Between the Dream and the Deed : A Symphony of Infinite Becoming
I stand at a crossroads — no map, no compass, just the faintest echoes of the footsteps I’ve taken thus far. Each path offers its own torment: on one side, the allure of the dream, on the other, the burden of action. Both repulse me, in their own way. Dreaming feels like a betrayal to the mind — an indulgence in the unreal, a playground of infinite potential that never quite solidifies. My thoughts, sharp and calculating, despise the boundlessness of the hypothetical, much like probabilities that hover endlessly but never collapse into a tangible outcome. It’s as though every dream is suspended in a state of waiting, like a cat in a box that is both alive and dead, yet neither at the same time.
But then, there is action. Movement, decision, commitment. This too I find unbearable. Action requires a narrowing of possibility, a brutal trimming of the branches of what could be, forcing the infinite into the finite. It is the crystallization of chaos into order — one pathway, chosen from the myriad that could have been. Each action feels like a step toward the inevitable, a submission to the forces of decay that seem to govern everything. Every move is irreversible, a reminder that as the world turns, it grows more disordered, more fragmented. And with every step I take, I feel less like I’m advancing, and more like I’m fracturing what could have been.
This friction between dreaming and doing defines me. Dreamers float unbound, grasping at ideas and letting them drift, while doers march forward, anchored to purpose. I envy neither. Dreaming without action is like solving an elegant equation without ever testing its result, while action without dreaming feels like walking a path laid down by another’s hand, one foot after the other, without ever questioning the direction.
Yet, I must live. And in living, I am forced to dream or act — or, more often than not, to mix the two. It is not a simple fusion, but rather a delicate entanglement, a state of being both at once. When I dream, I anchor myself to what could actually be, tethering the boundless to a semblance of the real. When I act, I do so with the awareness that each decision ripples into the infinite, affecting not only the chosen path but the countless others left behind. In doing both, I become a mixture — like particles that exist in multiple states simultaneously, waiting to be observed, waiting to be defined by the world or by myself.
This mixing of thought and action is the essence of life’s unpredictability. I hover in a state of superposition, holding within me all possible selves, all possible futures. I am unresolved, incomplete, a living equation with no final answer. And I am comfortable with that. Each dream left undreamt, each action not taken, adds to the layers of complexity. They do not cancel each other out but rather coexist, waiting for a moment of observation — a choice, a movement — that will bring them into focus.
I have come to accept that life is lived in this space of potential. We are all born with infinite possibilities, but every decision, every dream, collapses that potential, turning the infinite into the finite. This is time’s quiet trick: it moves us forward by reducing what could be into what is. With every tick of the clock, we are pressed into form, our lives narrowing from endless potential into the defined outcomes of our choices. But when I mix dreaming and acting, I resist this collapse. I linger in the undefined, in the possibility, injecting a kind of chaos into the ordered march of time. In mixing, I keep the universe on its toes, so to speak.
I’ve realized that this tension, this interplay between thought and deed, is not a burden to be resolved but a condition to be embraced. Just as no system of thought is ever truly complete, no life can be fully realized in either pure dreaming or pure action. There will always be paths left untrodden, futures left unfulfilled, and truths that lie just beyond the reach of the logical mind. I am not one or the other; I am both, existing in a state of glorious incompletion, forever straddling the line between what I could be and what I am.
Small actions can have large, unforeseen consequences — one decision, one movement, rippling outward in ways I cannot predict. In this way, I have come to see my life as a kind of fractal, with every step revealing more complexity, more hidden patterns, more unresolved possibilities. To mix dreaming and action is to recognize the inherent uncertainty of the world and to lean into it, to accept that I am both the cause and the effect, both the action and the dream, intertwined and inseparable.
And as for the human condition, I see in myself the same struggle that has defined us all for millennia. Ancient stories of gods and men, of heroes torn between their divine aspirations and their human limitations, are nothing more than this same tension played out on a grand scale. To steal fire, to roll the stone up the hill—these are not just myths but reflections of the same oscillation I feel within myself. To act is to commit to a path, but to dream is to reject the necessity of any one path in favor of all paths at once. Perhaps, in my own way, I am like those heroes, caught between two worlds, bound to neither but living in the space between.
So, I choose neither dreaming nor acting, and yet I must do both. I live in a quantum state, hovering between thought and deed, refusing to collapse entirely into one or the other. This is not indecision; it is the richness of life itself. It is to stand at the threshold of possibility, to acknowledge that every moment contains within it all potential moments, every self all potential selves. And when the moment comes to act, I do so with the knowledge that the dream remains, not as something lost, but as something woven into the fabric of my actions.
Here, I find a strange kind of peace — not in resolution, but in the tension itself. I am incomplete, unresolved, and gloriously so. And perhaps, in the end, that is what it means to truly live: to embrace the dream and the act, to stand between them, forever mixing, forever becoming.
Thanks for dropping by !
Disclaimer : Everything written above, I owe to the great minds I’ve encountered and the voices I’ve heard along the way.