Why Daydreaming Isn’t Wasted Time

I can be in the kitchen cooking up a comforting meal, staring out the window on a long drive, cleaning around the house, or sitting quietly, and suddenly I’m daydreaming and somewhere else entirely.

I’m lost in memory.

Imagining a conversation. Creating stories. Thinking about the future. Replaying moments from years ago.

For a long time, I thought that daydreaming was a bad thing. I thought that it was insensitive to other people around me if I just suddenly slipped out of reality and into a place where my mind feels more comfortable.

I think daydreaming is often treated like a distraction—as if it’s time being wasted when we should be doing something more important. But the older I get, the more I realize that my wandering mind isn’t a problem. It’s just how I process life.

Lately I’ve been caught up in a tangle of daydreams. Every day, for as long as I can remember, I have daydreamed about something—envisioning a lifestyle that suits my needs or creating some fairy-tale-like story where I’m the heroine. It can really be about anything that my heart desires and yearns for.

The other day, I started envisioning my upcoming trip to Europe. I’m going to Romania for a wedding, and then two weeks in my favorite place in the whole world—Italy. Thinking about all of the fun things I want to do there—explore the history, the art, the architecture, the cultural stories, the food, all of it.

I was caught up thinking about how I was going to spend my mornings—grabbing a cappuccino with a pastry, sitting outside a small café, just people watching and taking in the beauty around me. Listening to some scene-setting music, driving on the open road through the countryside, stumbling upon a villa for sale and buying it. Just like that movie Under the Tuscan Sun. “La signa”—a sign. I always remember that line from the movie.

But thinking of things like that is the most peace I find throughout my day. It gives me something to hold onto. Something to look forward to. Something to give me hope for a change I feel is heading my way.

Daydreaming Has Always Been a Safe Place

As a child, I spent a lot of my time in my imagination. When the world felt confusing, overwhelming, or lonely, I escaped into stories.

I created characters. Imagined different lives. Built entire worlds inside my head. Looking back, I don’t think I was trying to avoid reality. I think I was just trying to understand it.

For many neurodivergent people, imagination isn’t separate from how we experience life. It’s part of how we learn, process emotions, and make sense of things that don’t always fit into words.

I remember one of my childhood daydreams. I created a medieval-like town up in the clouds. The sky was always set to sunset hour—the bright colors of yellow, orange, pink, and purple.

I of course built this astonishing castle that I lived in—adorned in vibrant colors to match the sky. And the best part? I could fly.

I remember flying over the towns below, taking in the beauty of all that was beneath. I could feel the wind in my hair. I could smell the clouds—a dark musky smell or that of fresh rain. I could hear bells off in the distance as I reached my destination to another world made up of the starry night sky.

This was a go-to daydream growing up. It felt like my own little haven. Safe. Away from too much outside noise. Just pure bliss.

It was an escape when I needed one because I often felt too overwhelmed by reality, even at such a young age.

Some of My Best Ideas Arrive When I’m Not Trying

Creativity rarely shows up when I force it. It appears while on a walk, driving somewhere, standing in the shower, or folding laundry.

The moment I stop demanding answers, my brain starts connecting dots on its own.

Ideas drift in quietly. It could be through a blog post, a poem, a memory that suddenly makes sense, or a solution to a problem I’ve been carrying for days.

Sometimes daydreaming isn’t avoidance. Sometimes it’s creativity working behind the scenes.

Recently, I had a great idea come to me while I was walking outside. I’ve been trying to pull new ideas together for my blog—something I dedicate a lot of my time to.

But I had an idea to create a short ebook about my personal experience growing up, and living life in the shadows, feeling unseen and misunderstood. I thought it was a great idea to dive deeper into what Embrace the Unseen actually means to me, and how it can resonate widely with my audience. So I started writing… nonstop about my experiences.

I thought it was a great way for people to understand one person’s personal experience walking through life undiagnosed for years until I reached my late thirties and found out about my neurodivergence. I think a lot of people could resonate with my story. The result? I’m incredibly proud of myself for taking on the challenge to write something more personal and vulnerable to share with the world.

It’s a “la signa”—a sign that I’m slowly healing. Slowly embracing myself in a new light.

My Mind Needs Space to Wander

The world encourages constant stimulation—news, videos, emails, endless scrolling—there’s always something competing for our attention.

But I’ve learned that my mind needs empty space. Not every moment needs to be optimized, and not every silence needs to be filled.

When I stare at the clouds, sit on the patio, watch the ocean, or just exist without an agenda, something changes inside of me. My anxiety decreases. My thoughts settle. I can hear myself again.

The beach is my go-to spot. It’s where my mind feels free.

There’s nothing like sunbathing under the warm sun, taking a dip in the ocean to cool off, and just simply watching the ocean stay still in its glory.

Some of my most memorable times have been at the beach.

I remember going to Laguna Beach every summer for a vacation with the family. I’d spend my days body surfing, boogie boarding, and swimming in the hotel pool.

At night, after having dinner, I’d go sit on the sand listening to the waves hit the shore and staring out into the darkness as the moon and stars lit up the ocean in a subtle way.

Those times were for daydreaming, reflecting, and just feeling settled when everything else felt so uncertain. Those are the times when my mind feels free.

Daydreaming and Neurodivergence

As someone who was diagnosed later in life, I’ve spent years realizing that many things I thought were flaws were actually a part of how my brain works.

Daydreaming was one of them.

My thoughts move in a hundred directions at once. One memory leads to another. One idea sparks five more.

Sometimes it feels chaotic. Other times it feels beautiful.

I’ve learned that my wandering mind isn’t always something to control. Sometimes it’s something to trust.

After years of silently knowing I had ADHD (the signs were always there), I was officially diagnosed. And you would think there would be relief in that, but for a time, it had me question my whole reality and what I thought I knew.

The same goes for my self-diagnosed autism (I’m not paying $800 for someone to tell me what I already understood about myself).

Of course, I didn’t know much about autism and how wide the spectrum was. I, like many, believed that it was mostly common in males and that it was shown in more “severe” cases. I don’t want that to come off as ignorant, but that’s what society taught me about autism.

Having both has been a real eye-opener. It came with relief and grief.

Relief of understanding myself better and finally having answers to questions I always sought out.

Grief because I had lived my life not knowing who I truly was.

I spent my life masking without realizing it. Emotionally and physically drained anytime I’d do a task. And overstimulated by lights, sounds, smells, textures, fabrics.

I daydreamed because it helped me cope.

Daydreaming Can Be a Form of Healing

Some of my deepest self-reflection happens when my mind drifts. That’s what happens when I process grief. Make sense of emotions. Reconnect with old parts of myself. Imagine possibilities I couldn’t see before.

Healing doesn’t always happen through productivity. Sometimes healing happens in quiet moments when the mind is free to roam.

A wandering mind can uncover truths we’ve been too busy to notice.

Sometimes daydreaming leads to a realization. I recently had one while thinking about a recent friendship that ended.

I was daydreaming that we put all of the nonsense behind us, moved past it, and became great friends again like we once were.

But then the moments of harsh words reappeared. We had exchanged rather awful truths about one another.

And it made me realize that even though I’ll cherish the fond memories, there is no need to go back into something that was never fully there in the first place.

I had the realization that some people aren’t meant to stay in our lives. Sometimes, you have to push past all of the good in order to see the real truth.

And for the first time, pretty much ever, I’m not willing to look back.

Usually, I’d crawl back with arms open wide and an apology (turning the blame to myself) and beg for forgiveness. But not this time. The older I get the more I see things with clarity.

Final Thoughts

For years, I thought daydreaming meant I wasn’t paying enough attention to life. Now, I wonder if it helped me survive it.

Some of my most creative ideas, meaningful insights, and moments of self-understanding arrived when my mind was wandering.

So, these days, when I catch myself staring out the window, lost in thought, I don’t rush to pull myself back.

I let myself stay there a little while because the places our minds wander are exactly where we need to go.

Listen to the podcast episode here:

When does your mind feel most alive—when you’re focused, or when you’re quietly daydreaming?

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.” — Lewis Carroll