Sometimes you can’t sleep because the dreams feel too big for closed eyes.
I know your wheels are always turning. I see your piles of notebooks and underlined stories with notes in the margin. I see the trail of scraps and notes and one-day big ideas. I know that sometimes you can’t sleep because the dreams feel too big for closed eyes.
It happens a lot—the dreaming. You see something that catches your breath. The wind blows just right and a song touches you in a place you didn’t know existed and all of a sudden, your heart’s fluttering. You get excited. Nervous. Excited again. Scared that maybe it’s not worth it to throw your heart into another dream. But then, against your better judgement and the well-meaning cautioners who’ve weathered your storms, you’re leaping. You’re putting your heart on the line and you’re dreaming. You’re making something beautiful.
Then you push publish. It hurts to breathe so you don’t for a few minutes at a time. Your thumb hovers over the delete button and you toggle back and forth between ‘refresh’ and ‘close’. You’re paralyzed and sick and feeling all-of-a-sudden downtrodden because you love this thing and you want everyone to love it too. And you’ve put so much heart into it, and it seems like if they don’t love what you’ve done, in a way they also don’t love you.
You’re afraid that they won’t love you.
read more of this big dreamer post at The Rising Tide Society