As a visionary, I’ve lived a lot of my life in my mind.
In my mind lived novels and screenplays and stories. Dozens of characters. Entire worlds. Possibilities bigger than currently exist today.
Visions. Endless visions and ideas and excitement.
I remember once in second grade when I was relegated to “the wall” during recess as punishment, I told a friend that I didn’t care. Because there was nothing I couldn’t do in my mind. There was no place I couldn’t go.
I was a visionary. And I lived in the world of visions.
There’s something beautiful and poetic about the endless worlds that exist within our visionary minds. We thrive on possibilities. And the mind provides infinite, uncollapsed possibilities for us to toy with.
But, so often, we visionaries get so seduced by the wonders of the mind that we miss out on action. Because the dreaminess of the possibilities is a lot more exciting than the reality.
I can’t tell you how many times I’d start a new project or initiative, and I’d get so excited. Suddenly, I’d imagine where this could go in just a few years. My daydreams would take over. And I’d be off in another world—another reality—envisioning but not necessarily taking action.
And then life happened. Something brought me back to reality. And I felt disappointed that my reality didn’t match up to that grandiose vision in my mind.
Or maybe the opposite happened. And I began dreaming up the most dreadful worries about something that could happen. And I’d spin out in my mind there. Projecting to some unwarranted reality. And feeling paralyzed from taking any action at all.
We visionaries have such profound and imaginative minds. Visions that brings us home to ourselves. That make us feel like ourselves. That we can retreat into for safety.
And sometimes we come to over rely on the power of our mentation in place of action.
The trouble we visionaries face is we have the ability to see more possibilities than anyone else, and, paradoxically, because of it, we’re less likely to take action.
And that’s a frustrating place to be in. It’s the place of endless heartache and disappointment. To see possibilities that never match up to our realities.
We’ve even spent so much time in our minds that we convince ourselves to trust our projections over any reality. We’ll tell ourselves it’s pointless to keep going forward because we’ve already imagined nothing working out. Or we’ll tell ourselves we better protect ourselves because we can imagine getting hurt.
And, all the while, we never try enough to actually know.
As much as I love living in my visions, I’ve spent the last several years learning about how much richer it is to take continual action on those visions. Even when it feels impossible or an absolute certainty that I’ll fail.
Because, even when I do fail—and believe me, I’ve failed a lot—it’s still real now. Still embodied, grounded, manifested, collapsed. And I can do something with it. I can react to it. I can share it with others.
And it makes room for new visions to come forward.
Sometimes, I think I’m just taking action on one vision to make space for bigger ones to come through. And that’s okay. Because, all the while, I’m learning so much. And embodying more of my genius. And getting ready to hold bigger visions.
It’s not an either/or. It’s not a this–or-that. I don’t have to choose between visions and action. We visionaries are blessed with big visions. They aren’t going anywhere. But hoarding them for ourselves never lets the world benefit.
I can trust that I’m a visionary. And, even when I “fail,” more visions will come. So my job is to clear the pipeline and keep creating. Keep sharing when I feel inspired. Even when I’m scared. Even when my imagination tells me I’ve already failed.
Maybe it’s the unglamorous part of being a visionary. Of course, the glamor is all in seeing the big, glorious vision. And then we just have to do things like write e-mails and plan logistics, and it all seems a little bit tedious. And we might want to get right back to the seduction of the vision.
But there’s a big difference between being in lust with our vision and being in love with our vision. And love always chooses it all—even the tedious things.
Love shows up even when it’s hard to. Or scary to. Or boring to.
Love isn’t just the day of my wedding. Or even the day of my engagement. It’s all the little stuff. It’s doing dishes and laundry and cleaning the house. It’s the everyday actions that make that hopeful vision of a relationship into a reality.
It’s loving the vision so much and realizing that I deserve this. Every moment of it. Even the less glamorous parts. Just like I deserve to love every part of myself. Because every part of me is a genius.
Love isn’t about staying where we know we won’t get hurt. It’s about acknowledging that we may very well get hurt but risking it anyway. Because it’s worth it. To feel something that real is worth it.
And the things we love—the real visions—make us want to risk it all. Taking action anyway. Just to feel something that real.
It’s safer to stay in our minds. And we visionaries have done that for a long, long time. Our minds, our imaginations, our visions, even our anxieties and worries—these have been places we’ve known well.
We can convince ourselves that they’re more real than any action we could ever take. We can convince ourselves we know how this will end, so we don’t even need to take that action.
But that’s kind of like me imagining a whole story of how Garrett would have reacted to me telling him that I love him but never actually doing it.
It was a risk—a huge risk. For something that real. And I had every chance of failure. But it was worth it anyway.
We visionaries are so gifted at seeing into the darkness and pulling forward possibilities that others can’t yet see. Imagine what could happen if we actually made that a reality. And then take action.
Because a visionary who takes action is such a dangerous combination, they just might go and change the world.
Questions for Reflection:
*Answer in a journal, in the comments right here, or take it over to the Sacred Branding® Facebook group where we can support one another:
Do you ever catch yourself living in your mind?
— Do you ever catch yourself daydreaming? Or getting really, really excited about new possibilities? Or seeing a new idea and immediately imagining what could happen and where this could take you?
— Do you sometimes project into worry or anxiety and just know how this one will turn out? Do you sometimes feel you don’t even need to take more action because you already see where this is going? Does it feel easier or more appealing to just get excited about a new possibilities?
— What if you are absolutely a visionary, and you have a heightened ability to see possibilities? What if, sometimes, your reliance on those possibilities has stopped you from taking action to make it a reality? What if choosing action is about loving the full vision and wanted to make it real—not just lusting after how good the possibility feels? What if taking action may be the bigger gamble, but you are worth it?