Bernard O'Shea: 'I have fantasies about Dermot Bannon walking into one of my creations'

Dermot Bannon features in Bernard O'Shea's daydreams. Picture: Moya Nolan

In 2013, author Jon Methven wrote in The New York Times, "The problem is that people are daydreaming incorrectly. Because of widespread misuse, daydreaming has achieved the rank stigma of slothful procrastination."

I am a daydreamer. If Walter Mitty could climb inside my mind, he'd think, "this guy is ridiculous." The only thing I would get into trouble for in school was zoning out in the middle of a class. I could be miles away and unaware of where I was. I remember a teacher asking me, "Are you anywhere nice today, Mr O'Shea?" I quickly snapped out of it and tried desperately to remember what class I was in.

I could sit in a room happily for hours and zone out. Two decades later, I'm still daydreaming. I've always argued that there's little difference between a good imagination and daydreaming.

According to Future Minds Lab, an experimental startup that funds research into human behaviour and innovation, "neuroscience research has shown that mind-wandering lights up connections across a series of interacting brain regions known as the default mode network (DMN). This network is most commonly active when the brain is at wakeful rest and planning the future, or focusing inwards. Recent studies suggest that creative thinking is enhanced when our DMN is activated, and its neighbouring network, the frontoparietal control network (FPCN)."

Essentially, daydreaming helps fuel the creative process. However, my daydreams are pure escapism and don't involve any future planning. My contrived mind delusions are, to put it mildly, embarrassing. I am consistent, and they generally don't stray beyond three categories.

The sporting daydream

Whatever sport is on the telly, I'll daydream that I've become its obscure outside champion. Almost akin to kids playing Wimbledon or World Cup in the back garden, I could happily pass the day away pretending that I'm the first 43-year-old rookie to win the Monaco Grand Prix. I'll generally dream about being in the press conference as the chaotic press scream out my name. Eventually, I take a question; "Bernard, the world wants to know how a 43-year-old overweight 16-stone Irishman who's never driven in a competitive race never, let alone a Formula One Grand Prix, ends up winning at Monaco?" I'll take the gallery through my meteoric rise and laugh and joke about how I "might as well retire now". This same daydream goes for tennis, golf, hurling, football, and once darts.

D.I.Y. and gardening daydream

I am utterly useless when it comes to D.I.Y. My wife is the handy one in the family. However, that doesn't stop me from envisioning myself building an extension on my own with groundbreaking speed and precision. I have fantasies about Dermot Bannon walking into one of my creations. He gasps, "I cannot believe you did this by yourself," but even in my daydreams, my wife appears out of nowhere to comment, "he did in his hole." The same goes for gardening. I mind-float into a cosy brain space where I grow my vegetables and keep animals, and chickens. Of course, I could do this, but it's not as messy and back-breaking in my head.

The beach body daydream

In Bernard's daydreams, only Michelangelo could have carved those chiselled abs, as they certainly weren't built from heavy lifting or the gym. In these fantasies, Bernard is an international sports star, surprisingly never actually performing cardiovascular activities but rather holding press conferences where adoring fans and the media alike marvel over his skills.

I think this is a common one. I imagine myself with a chiselled body running down the beach, embracing the kids as the sea water glistens off my glowing body. I have a very pronounced six-pack, and my shoulders are enormous. In my daydreams, I'm even tanned. I do not know how that could happen, as I don't even get to the freckled stage. I go red, and I mean red. Of course, I could achieve this with hard work. Still, it's so much easier to sit back on the couch with a nice cup of tea and a few chocolate digestives and think, "tomorrow, I'll start tomorrow."

I wrote in this paper before about my love for driving aimlessly and the concept of being in perpetual motion. There is something about travel that makes my mind wander. It's that form of escapism that lets the mind rest. Daydreaming essentially is calorie-free chocolate for the brain. Unlike meditation, where the essence is to try and clear your mind of thoughts daydreaming is forcing your mind to travel and create.

There is a stark warning for me in the guise of Marcus Aurelius. The don of the stoics warns:

"Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not but reckon up the chief of the blessings you possess, and then thankfully remember how you would crave them if they were not yours."

Who am I to argue with one of the greatest minds that ever lived, but I might as well. The thing is that a daydream is the best present you can give yourself. They don't cost anything. They are friendly to the environment and consistently sustainable. They also have that extra x-factor in "Christmas Eve excitement."

I would explode with excitement every Christmas Eve when I was a kid. I would constantly think about what Santa would bring me. I would imagine playing with it and showing my present to my friends. Essentially the anticipation was as rewarding as the gift itself. As we get older, we tend to have the same feeling about holidays and time off, but what if you could give yourself that feeling daily?

What if your holidays were months away? What if you're sitting at your desk or in the lorry's cab and wishing you were sipping a nice cold drink beside a pool. Close your eyes. Imagine packing your bag, getting an overpriced sandwich at the airport, arriving at your destination, and feeling that initial warm breeze as the automatic door opens. You have a real reason to wear your sunglasses. Check into your hotel, go for a nap, and head down to the pool. You can do that now, and the best thing is all your luggage has arrived home, and you spent no time in a queue.

Sure, Marcus Aurelius has a point about being grateful for what you have already — but in fairness. He might have ruled the Roman Empire, but he never lost his suitcase at Ciampino Airport and had to wear a pair of Wrangler jeans and an Ireland away top for three days traipsing around Rome during a heatwave.

So treat yourself today to what your mind, heart and brain consciously or subconsciously want. If anyone interrupts you, you can tell them you are working on your DMN.