I have a secret. You wouldnae think it of a lassie fae a wee Ayrshire village, but I was a pirate, sailing the seven seas. Pillaging and plundering, then fleeing off to the next port. In the fun way, mind. The heavy eyeliner and cool sword-fighting way. I wasnae the torturing and murdering type of pirate.
That was after my sell-out world tour. Sometimes I was lead singer, sometimes guitarist. Then again, I was also happy to hide behind the drums and bang out a rhythm some nights. I wasnae fussed. I’d been discovered while working as a waitress in a cocktail bar. Or was it singing along to top 40 hits in HMV, wearing the headphones they used to have in there? (Pre-covid, days, eh? Wild.) I cannae mind, it was something like that.
Then there was the time I slayed a dragon. Nasty business, but it had to be done. The townsfolk wanted to give me gold and jewels, and crown me their leader, but honestly, I was just happy to help out.
I’ve been intae space, zinging about between planets and stars. You know, our solar system is pretty toaty when you can travel at light speed. I’ve met aliens with five eyes, ones that are twelve-foot tall, have green skin, or blue, or purple, who are kind or murderous or are cleverer than Einstein or content with their lot in life. But no matter how far I travel, it’s always nice to get back home.
I’ve been a gun-slinger, a witch, a superhero, a dancer, a film star. I’ve been in car chases and bank heists. I travelled to Antarctica, Kilimanjaro, the Moon. There is nothing and nowhere I havenae been or done.
Sigh. You might’ve guessed I’m telling porkies. Physically, I’ve never done any of those things. But in daydreams, I’ve done them all and more. I guess I’m a bit of a Walter Mitty. Just call me Wilhelmina. I don’t think Walt would mind me imagining I’m his second-cousin, twice removed.
Because in daydreams, you can be anyone. In real life, times are tough. If you’re not worrying about your health, your job or the rising cost of abso-bloody-lutely everything, you’re worrying about the health of a loved one, or missing those you’ve already lost. It’s hard. For all of us. And while I’m no saying you should dream your life away, a wee five minutes here or there cannae hurt you.
So if life isnae treating you too kind just now, grab a cup of tea, your favourite biscuit and take a wee breath. In real life, your singing voice might be more akin to a pack of howling hyenas, but in a daydream, you could be starring in a West End production of Mamma Mia.
So go on. Close your eyes. The stage awaits.