So in all my calls to bravado of “Share Your Dreams!”, my dear friend Alex picked up on the fact that my shouts to action hadn’t quite drowned out the glaringly obvious fact that I, myself, had not yet divulged the deepest longings of my heart.
Why? Because it’s terrifying. It’s one thing to allow yourself to dream up grand plans, but it’s quite another to share these longings with the world, to put them (and more notably, yourself) in the direct eye of others, who can see exactly if and when you actually put your money with your mouth is. Because if you don’t, oh hells to the no, you might actually look… *shock horror* STUPID.
But, even just writing that there, makes it feel a lot easier to pour it out. Namely because:
a) Who cares if I look stupid? Really? You’re looking at somebody who’s flashed their nether-regions at an entire room-full of strangers under fluorescent lighting no less (during birth, thanks very much, I’m not THAT bad. Ehem.)
b) Going public makes me feel that little bit more accountable. Perhaps it shall inspire some action? (Agh, okay, I’m totally freaking out now. Ventolin? Okay. No, no, please don’t worry, I’m good now, really.)
c) By me saying “Share your dreams, it’s better for you than an apple a day!” but then refusing to walk the walk myself and hiding my stuff away where it’s safe, private and – here’s the clincher – unlikely to ever see the light of day, I am really saying that I’m full of it, and that really, you should keep it to yourself too.
So, adieu my inner hypocrite!
Now say hello to my biggest, wildest, untamed dreams:
To create an arts retreat centre, (inspired by the incredible Banff Centre in Canada, where I was extremely fortunate to do my own residency last year) somewhere in the hills of northern NSW or Maleny, to which people can come to create new works (in one of the gorgeous little studios around the property), run workshops, conferences, retreats, and the like including an annual Improvisation retreat.
To run my own production company, which not only produces projects for screen (feature films, docos and television projects) but is an extraordinarily family friendly place to work.
To write/perform in/host a comedy television show of such utter brilliance and sheer fabulousness that it is only spoken of by future generations in whispered gasps of awe.
To launch an organisation which encourages and supports families to do volunteer trips abroad.
To be a philanthropist, setting up some sort of organisation or initiative whereby improvisers, comedians and other performers can access opportunities to improve their skills and create new work.
To write a national column and publish my cartoon on parenting through funny-coloured glasses.
To write books, non-fiction, fiction and of course, spend my twilight years pouring myself into my extremely self-indulgent memoirs.
To travel, travel and travel. Perhaps even come up with some projects which delve into the tribulations and triumphs of doing this with kiddly-winks.
To deck out an amazing family-friendly Tour Bus and do comedy tours of various continents with the fam, no less, perhaps documenting this ridiculousness in some form.
To spend my final years with family and soul-friends around, my marriage and integrity in tact and my soul at ease.
Phew. See? Piece of cake.
*knocking back a Scotch*
Image courtesy of Stephen Mitchell
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