Imagination

I remember being a kid and experiencing keenly the thrill of an overly indulgent imagination. I remember creatures lurking at the bottom of basement stairs, moving shadows darting out from behind trees, and masked madmen lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to seize upon a distracted little girl.

I wasn't a frightful child. I knew as well as I knew my own name such fanciful things weren't actually real, but my imagination worked mightily to convince me otherwise and at least managed, on more than one occasion to send me scampering from the woods to the safety of the front porch, or the calm of a well lit kitchen.

I sit on the porch just now and listen to my kids talk about the little green elf they sometimes see watching them  from the edge of the forest, or the E.T. like alien they expect to see walking around the corner of the house. I know they know, as I did, these things aren't real. There isn't actually a voice coming from the basement, calling out their names, or a three headed deer running through the woods. But I also see the gleaming light of mystery that only exists in the eyes of a child - a tiny glimmer of possibility that seems to say, "Of course nothing like that will happen... but it might!"

Sometimes, I mourn the loss of such mystery. Grown up eyes are boring, I think - only seeing a basement full of ordinary boxes or a forest full of trees and simple squirrels. I think it might do us all some good if we shook off a bit of the practical and allowed our minds to embrace the possibility of something magical, something entirely unexplained.

We can't stop being grown ups. Life requires realism, a healthy sense of grounded awareness. But a glimmer of magic certainly can't hurt. I think it will keep us young, keep us optimistic and perhaps make it much easier for us to relate to our children.

Post Script: The post was drafted at the end of last week, and saved for further review. As I reread it tonight, I felt I ought to add that just a few minutes ago, I went out to my car to retrieve my cell phone. Something WAS lurking in the dark woods beside my home... something that sounded animal-ish - big enough to make quite a racket moving through the brush, but not so big to cause alarm. I'm guessing it was a raccoon, perhaps a possum. Even still, I paused on the front porch and listened... and what should happen? My heart started to race, my mind running through the possibilities of what might be in the woods. Whatever it was, I knew it was coming to get me. Not really. I knew it wouldn't get me... but I still covered the distance between my house and the car and back again in record time. Perhaps my imagination hasn't checked out after all!