Day 116: New Dreams!

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Day 116:  New Dreams!

Day 116.  Several weeks ago—maybe a month even—Eye Doc Sister asked me to check to see if any new dreams had arrived in the PO Box because she’d been passing the postcards out at her office.  If you need a refresher on what the hell the postcards are and what I’m talking about reread Day 62:  What’s Your Dream.  Anyhoo, I checked the box.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  No postcards.  No new dreams.  “But one person said they were going to go home and do it right away,” my sister exclaimed.  We were both disappointed.  Although we had to admit, deciding on a dream, any dream, from the simple, (having a clean house), to the elaborate, (ending world hunger), and declaring it is not an easy or fast endeavor—especially if you want to declare a dream you can actually accomplish at some point in your life.  I examined the concept of dreams versus fantasy and how challenging it is to declare a dream on Day 65:  Declaring a Dream.  It’s like you want to go for your dreams but you don’t want to dip into fantasy.  Ballerina is out for me but making a feature film is a doable dream.  It took me forever to declare my dream for this experiment.   And Eye Doc Sis, well, she has yet to officially declare hers at all.  “Who knows, I said, “maybe no one is going to respond to this experimental motivation project?”  Oh well.  I let it go and went on with my many other irons in the fire—essentially forgetting about my post office box and its lack of dreams.

As I drive back from an appointment in Beverly Hills today, the Declare Your Dream mission and PO Box pop into my head out of the blue.  When I hit the intersection at Pennsylvania and Foothill, I decide to turn left which will take me to the post office instead of go straight which will take me home.  It’s hot out.  I’m driving Old Red not the BMW so I’m sweating my ass off.  I’ve been on a call with Screenwriter Cindy so I’ve had the windows rolled up in order to actually hear her—yes, manual windows and the air conditioner is dead.  I just can’t bring myself to spend the money to fix the air in such a beater truck.  “If there’s no parking,” I audibly warn myself for this flight of fancy detour, “I’m turning around and going home.  I have got to rinse off this schvitz!”

Scanning a dream!

It’s 12:39pm—prime madhouse mailing time—yet the post office parking lot has not one but three spaces available.  A sign?  It’s always full, especially around lunchtime, and a nightmare to find parking.  I easily pull into a spot, jump out and jog into the lobby—might as well keep the sweat pouring.  I have low expectations.  I expect to find more nothing, nada, zilch in my box.  I quickly slip in the key, turn it and open the 11″ x 5 1/2” x 14 3/4″ door.  Lo and behold I see Declare Your Dream postcards sitting in my PO Box!  I almost fall over from surprise or it’s because I haven’t eaten yet, I’m not sure which.  My heart starts pounding like I just won the lottery.  The cards are trapped under an American Express bill for some guy named John something who apparently must have had this PO Box before me.  My hand shakes as I scoop them out.  What dreams will I read?  Will they be funny?  Serious?  Silly?  Sweet?  I toss the bill back in the outgoing mail slot and take a deep breath.  I turn over the postcards one at a time.  As I read them my eyes start to well up.  I suppress my reaction, pull myself together, get back in my sweatbox and rush home.  I can’t wait to scan them and get them up on the site.

Once home and in the middle of scanning and sizing the newly declared dreams to go on the Declare Your Dream page, the earlier squelched emotional response will not be denied one second longer.  I reread the new dreams and burst into tears.  “What an honor this is,” I squeak out between sobs—of course I’m alone and of course I’m talking out loud to myself.  “I am so honored to hold these dreams in my hands!  These clear, worthwhile and amazing dreams!  Dreams from the hearts of people who were brave enough to not only declare them but also stamp them and mail them in to be shared and help motivate others—the first step in taking action to making them happen!  What an honor!”  Then it hits me, “What a responsibility,” I say as I wipe my eyes.  “I must find a sacred physical space to hold these dreams,” I reverently whisper to the Universe and to the senders.

Total anonymity: can't even read the postmark!

Instantly, I want nothing more than for these people’s dreams to come true.  I say a quick prayer to that effect.  This immediately makes me want to know where they came from.  I have no idea who these people are!  Which, of course, is the point.  Joie de vivre and I didn’t use the language, “anonymously contribute to an experimental motivation project” for nothing.  But still, it will be fun to see what geographical location they came from.  I squint.  I get out the magnifying glass.  I turn on the brightest light in the house.  All to no avail.  I can’t make out any of the postmarks on them!  I don’t know whether they came from Missouri or Colorado or California—the only three states that a handful of them have been handed out in so far.  How interesting.  I can’t even guess who they came from because I don’t even know which state they came from!  I presumed at the start of this experiment I’d be able to read the postmark and share what state or country the dreams came from—that’s not against the rules.  But after I inspect the postmarks for the tenth time, it dawns on me I’ll probably never be able to read any of the postmarks from any of the dreams that are mailed in.  The glossy finish on the front of the postcards seems to keep the ink from adhering well and it’s then easily smudged.  The contributors to my experimental motivation project will never be known even by general location.  Surprisingly, I’m not disappointed by this realization.  It seems to make this moment and the experiment all the more magical.  The only person that will ever know whose dream is whose is the one who declared it.

There you have it.  This is a truly and completely anonymous experimental motivation project just as Joie de vivre and I originally envisioned it to be not only for the myriad legal reasons but also and more importantly for the dream shy or averse—those who are afraid to declare their dream for fear of being laughed out of the dream room or those who don’t think they have the right or freedom or time to have a dream.  How freeing is total anonymity?  The dreamer is safe to dream.  The seer of the dreams is free to be motivated sans judgment because they know nothing about the individual who is declaring the dream.  There can be no, “Oh Sally will never be able to do that!  Who is she kidding?”  Because I don’t know who is declaring these dreams, I have no preconceived ideas of whether they can actually make them come true.  I think there’s something to this because despite not knowing who the dreamers are or what capabilities they have, I find myself extremely confident that whoever has these dreams will make them happen!  And that makes me believe I can make my dreams come true too.  Knowingly or unknowingly, we’re in this together.

To see the new dreams and get motivated to declare yours, go to the See A Dream page.

Until tomorrow, create from what you have…new dreams.

Kelli Joan Bennett is a filmmaker, actress, writer, entrepreneur, advocate for creative thinking and Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Think Outside The Box Inside The Box Media.


  1. If you build it . . . I LOVE YOUR DREAM PAGE, KELLI!

  2. This is so fun! And it does make you feel motivated to put your dream in writing and work to make it come true.


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