Daydreaming is Good for You
Ideas machine, surrealist-in-chief and my all-time hero David Lynch has taught me many things: how to nail a jump scare, the importance of never relinquishing final cut, believing in your own storytelling prowess, though it’s his love of daydreaming that’s stuck with me most. Lynch is a vocal proponent of daydreaming, and often likens having ideas in a quiet state to catching fish: “If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you've got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure.”
There’s something in Lynch’s belief that’s achingly poignant and resonant for many emerging writers at the moment. The world is experiencing an unprecedented and collective slowing down, with elongated periods of nothingness stretching out as far as the next press conference. It’s an uncertain time, but banking this recaptured diary space is one upside to cling onto. I myself am taking a leaf out of Lynch’s book and cherishing this time, using it not to overthink, but to daydream and fish for the next big idea.
Daydreaming is an oft misconstrued pastime, one that’s systematically drummed out of us from a young age. It was considered ‘bad form’ and symptomatic of idleness or laziness to let your mind wander at school, instead of a normal, healthy expression of creativity, and a natural part of being a kid. And now, under the dark clouds of a dying planet, a global pandemic, a president more focused on golfing than the G8 summit, collective feelings of anxiety, sadness, frustration, dislocation and discombobulation, I’m convinced a resurgence and celebration of daydreaming has never been more vital.
It’s crucial in stating my case to first make a distinction between daydreaming and overthinking: the former can help battle stress, fatigue and allow ideas to spring forth, the latter, regrettably, has the complete opposite effect. Daydreaming is not the same as overthinking, it’s a state that coddles you in a blanket of unmeasurable calm, and allows a stream of pure consciousness to take precedence. Casting logic, reason and structure aside in this way is not only a healthy way of staying sane in an increasingly frenetic world; having the time to ‘wander off’ helped me find my way back to writing.
It’s a daunting feeling opening a laptop or notebook and seeing an empty page leering back at you—team that with the warm glow of distractions and better offers, and that page is staying blank for sure. Though when lockdown hit London back in March, familiar distractions were no longer in abundance, so I decided to push through this feeling, and heed the words of James Joyce, “Write it, damn you, write it! What else are you good for?”. Those countless hours spent staring out at the skyline or up at the stucco ceiling unearthed an abundance of ideas, and for the first time in years, I believed in my ability to express them.
There’s no doubt that the luxury of sitting still and doing nothing is increasingly under attack. Though for writers in their infancy like me, it’s so important to find space in the day to float away, have imaginary conversations, tell stories and escape to that bubbling pool of ideas just beneath the surface of the subconscious. So to all the budding writers reading this, spread the good word, put daydreaming solidly back on the agenda, because as Mr. Lynch so poignantly states, “The world is getting louder every year, but to sit and dream is a beautiful thing.”
Originally published in Vaine Magazine.
