MCW_8751 900px Todd Mayo.jpg

Daydreaming

To celebrate the release of Caveman Chronicles, an Amazon best-selling memoir and mythic musical memoir already beloved by readers, Todd Mayo has crafted a compelling series of essays. These essays provide a glimpse into the rich narratives woven throughout the memoir, offering readers a taste of the remarkable stories that chronicle Mayo's journey.

I was daydreaming when the idea for a subterranean music venue first took root in my mind. I had never been underground, but that day in 2008 I found myself on a cave tour in Grundy County, Tennessee. As the guide informed the group about geology and stalactites and stalagmites, I was not present, not listening. I was in that nowhere place of awe. It’s there that nature smiled upon me with an imaginative idea: what if this cave were a music venue?

Ten weeks later, after plenty of work and collaboration with a lot of great people, The Caverns became a reality and my life changed forever—all because of a daydream. Today, the Caverns welcomes over 130,000 patrons a year—73% of them come from out-of-state, making it a destination music venue.

The Caverns also features a 6,000 capacity above-ground amphitheater, a “show” cave with a room three football fields long, an adventure cave with waterfalls and underground lakes that is straight out of The Goonies, campgrounds, hiking trails, and a yurt village. Soon there will be cabins, cottages, and a brewery. None of the ideas and evolution of the property have taken place in a meeting, nor have they involved any sort of conscious planning. All of it has been the direct result of drifting off and musing, “well, this might be cool.”

I have daydreamed my way through life for 52 years. I can't remember a time I wasn't daydreaming; I assume it was always there. I routinely miss exits when I'm driving on the interstate. My two kids, Jackson and Maggie, have learned to be vigilant on a daily basis, reminding me to make one of only two left turns on the mile or so trip to their school. If I'm telling a story or we are engaged in some conversation my mind is out there and not here, wherever “here” is at the moment.

As a lifelong hustler and entrepreneur, daydreaming is a useful, natural skill to possess. If you can't dream it, if you can't imagine it, if you can't visualize it, you have nothing to aspire to. I've learned the key to my success is "head in the sky/feet on the ground." It's a blessing to have half of that equation come naturally to me and a challenge to have the other half come so unnaturally. I ground myself through proper sleep, diet, exercise, prayer, meditation, my family and friends. In business I surround myself with folks who are naturally much more grounded than I am. It works.

I don't think anyone can realize their personal potential or any group or organization can reach its zenith without consistent untethering. We must let go of whatever it is that keeps us from floating off to where visions and ideas emerge naturally and spontaneously. Kind of like dreams themselves.

Everything from cathedrals and rocket ships, to string theory, paper plates, and fluorescent dog leashes stems from humans imagining a possibility. Daydreaming helps us build a bridge between now and soon-to-be . . . a future “then” that could never happen if we were constantly “present.” Though I'm all for mindfulness and the power of the present moment, there’s something quantum about escaping my present leash and free-roaming—wildly and with unfettered abandon—in the realm of imagination. I’ve made it a practice to play in that space where I can consider a vision and then reground and labor towards it.

So how can you make daydreaming work for you? Start by having a sense of wonder. Let yourself wander outside—whether driving, hiking, or strolling leisurely, move without agenda or purpose. See how this blank slate invokes a state of mental play. Rather than chiding yourself for being distracted, celebrate the practice of daydreaming. And in those still moments when something makes your inner voice say, “well, that might be cool,” listen.