Until I read an article in Scientific Mind this month about daydreaming (“Living in a Dream World” by Josie Glausiusz; not available for free as far as I can find), I wasn’t aware that I lack this mental activity. Definitions vary; one used in the article is that daydreams are “an inner world where we can rehearse the future and imagine new adventures without risk“. Another is “imagining situations in the future that are largely positive in tone”. I would add something to differentiate daydreaming from planning—perhaps that daydreaming includes emotional reactions.
It’s not clear in the article whether research results apply only to positive fictional imaginings or to routine planning and review, as well. The latter is much more common. Also the author conflates daydreaming and the mind’s use of off-task time to solve problems non-consciously.
People can daydream in extravagant adventures à la Walter Mitty, or more mundane imaginings of how good that hot bath will feel after work, or how happy one’s child will be when she receives her Christmas present. Most people, the author says, “spend about 30 percent of their waking hours spacing out, drifting off, lost in thought, woolgathering, in a brown study, or building castles in the air.” And it’s important to our sense of self, our creativity, “and how we integrate the outside world into our inner lives”.
I remember, as a solitary child, pretending to be Superman or Tarzan, but not often; I read, instead. After the age of 10 or 12, I don’t think I had imaginary adventures at all. Not surprisingly, I’m also unable to visualize scenes: “Imagine yourself on a tropical beach” is impossible for me to do. I can think, okay, I’m on a tropical breach, it is warm and sunny, and so on, but there’s no sensory aspect to it, just words. Similarly, my memories of the past (mostly gone now due to fibromyalgia cognitive damage) are all just words, as if someone had described a scene to me rather than my having experienced it. There’s no “mind’s eye” in my mind. In novels I usually tune out while reading the descriptions of landscapes and people; no corresponding mental pictures rise in my mind.
Daydreaming can be escapism but it can also be a way of trying out different futures, and experiencing the associated emotions. I think this could also help motivate a person toward a chosen or hoped-for future, by allowing advance tastes of its rewards or of the misery of its alternative. I make decisions about future choices and I make plans but I don’t try them out mentally in advance, and I also (in jobs, for example) tend to stay where I am rather than striving for something different. I’ve thought of myself as lacking in ambition, but maybe it’s more that I don’t have a way of modelling the future choices with emotional content. Mostly I’ve stayed in jobs until they became intolerable, then moved on, sometimes with no replacement in mind. I can’t even really visualize ideas for a vacation or a trip, especially to someplace I’ve never been.
So, what do I do with that 30% of my waking hours that other people use for daydreaming? Not enough. Sometimes, for a couple of minutes, it seems nothing is going on in my mind, or merely observation, without commentary, of what’s happening around me; I have no idea how typical that is. But mostly the engine’s running, chewing over what’s in front of it. Why are things this way, how could this activity be done better, how does this work, that sort of thing. I used to do a lot of sequential thinking, as if working through thoughts with pen and paper, exploring ideas and putting things together, taking them apart, finding correlations and causes. I could continue working on different mental projects during intervals across days and days, and sometimes wrote that way—at the end of the mental work I’d have an outline and some exact wording to put down on paper. Then I’d revise and expand, but I could work out a lot of it mentally and recall it. No more, since fibromyalgia. Thinking is often slow and I can’t remember from one day to the next what I came up with. Sometimes thoughts flit through and are gone before I can even try to remember them. This is one of FM’s major losses, for me, both a loss of pleasure and a loss of what I can accomplish.
Maybe reading fills the role of daydreaming for me. I read a lot, about equal amounts fiction and non-, and if circumstances prevent me from reading for a couple of days I feel the deprivation. The article mentions non-daydreamers only in passing: “Cognitive psychologists are now also examining how brain disease may impair our ability to meander mentally”. If my impairment is due to a brain disease, it’s one I’ve had since early on.
Others, it turns out, suffer from the opposite disorder, daydreaming that is a compulsion or simply so enjoyable that real life takes a back seat. Some have a second life in an alternate world where continuing characters age just like people in the world the rest of us live in. They may fit this narrative into available mental down-time in their lives, or spend up to 90% of their time “away”.
I find it strange that it took me so long to discover that other people spend a third of their waking hours on a mental activity which I lack entirely. It goes to show how little exchange there is among us humans regarding how we think, how our individual minds work. Humans yo-yo between xenophobia—members of other groups are different, dangerous— and “we’re all really just alike”, but a study of psychological research found “significant psychological and behavioral differences between what the researchers call Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich and Democratic (WEIRD) societies and their non-WEIRD counterparts across a spectrum of key areas, including visual perception, fairness, spatial and moral reasoning, memory and conformity.“ Maybe in daydreaming as well. But nearly all psychological research is done on WEIRD subjects, for both practical and ethnocentric reasons, so who knows? Same for neuroscience; who’s going to airlift fMRI equipment to the lands of the Yanomamo and then persuade them to lie down with their heads inside?
Still, the article raised in my mind some questions we could look at right here in the post-industrial West. If people were prevented from daydreaming, by some technological device probably not yet invented, how would they feel? (Recalling the familiar ‘fact’ about deprivation of night-time dreaming making people hallucinate, I looked to see if it was true, and apparently not.) What proportion of people don’t have imaginative daydreams, and is this always a sign of brain disease or dysfunction or just a normal mental variation? We characterize one sort of excessive negative daydreaming as “catastrophizing”; what about individuals making deliberate use of negative or positive futures, to influence their behavior? And how can “daydreaming” be more precisely separated out from other mental processes such as planning, brooding, brainstorming, and worrying?
Muse on it all, and see what your daydreaming mind comes up with.
King vulture photo by Tambako the Jaguar, flickr.
I found this post so interesting!!! I just found your website as a fellow FMS sufferer, but I’m really glad I found it because I’m also an intense researcher and writer and I’ve been thinking about starting a blog of my own, and yours has given me some good ideas!
I really liked this post because I’ve been thinking about dreaming lately. I used to daydream a lot as a kid and teenager. I had all of these intense thoughts that would send my eyes gazing out of classroom windows on a daily basis in high school. Once I was diagnosed with FMS at the age of 26, the daytime dreaming had subsided substantially. The reason I’ve been thinking so much about dreaming now is because I have been having these really intense dreams at night (on those nights I actually do sleep that is!) I remember most of them too. Everyone keeps telling me I should keep a dream journal but I don’t even have to, they are so vivd I CAN’T forget them, some amazingly wonderful and peaceful, some terrifying. The strangest part of these dreams though is that there is usually something that happens when I’m awake that reminds me of one of these dreams, usually the good ones, and I end up getting this intense feeling of deja vu and then a feeling like I wish I was in the dream place instead of awake. I wish I could think of an example right now but my mind is blank. Next time it happens I’ll come back and tell you. It is soooooo strange, but just what has been happening lately…making it even more interesting that I was lead to your post about FMS (which I am struggling with the worst in 10 years right now) AND dreams! I’m always amazed how the world works so mysteriously sometimes.
I love your blog and I’m so glad I found it!
Thanks, and I’m glad you found it too! But sorry to hear your FMS is going through such a bad spell. All I know to do about it, after over 20 years, is take care of myself, stay positive and as active as I can so I don’t lose ground.
I can’t recall real daydreaming even when I was younger but maybe I did. FMS has certainly trashed my memory, that is for sure. I am working on remembering my night-time dreams better, with some success; for many years I didn’t even know I was dreaming, and it felt like a loss.
Hang in there!
Glad you like the blog, and wish I had your dream recall. Only rarely do I wake up remembering a few bits of a dream and that makes me feel kind of separated from part of myself. About dream journals, you might want to give it a try because it can be not just to help remember the dreams but also to get some perspective on them and think about them. Maybe there are elements in your dreams that you could encourage in your life, or parts of yourself you could pay more attention to, and that feeling of wishing you could be in the dream place is a signal. We can’t usually replicate our dreams but thinking about them we might be able to see what part of our waking life relates to it.
There is a diagnosis for the inability to make mental pictures. Is this what you are talking about?