When we are young, we have no choice.
Our imagination is all that we have.
There is no past.
There is nothing to reminisce.
There is nothing to morn.
There is nothing to hold on to.
But soon, without counsel, we are nudged forward.
Forward into experience.
Into discovery.
Hope.
Love.
Loss.
And all those things that encompass a life worthy to remember.
Through this process, we may care to notice that we are often operating from one of two places.
A place of imagination.
Or
A place of memory.
I cannot begin to tell you why we lose our sense of imagination.
But it happens.
Of course, there are those among us that always seem to show up from one or the other – and never the other.
These past few weeks , I have lost my sense of imagination.
I have found myself sitting deep within the confines of my memory.
Part of me has resisted from and does not want to emerge from here.
There’s happiness and yes, also sorrow – but it’s familiar.
And I think that is what keeps most of us here, the familiar.
This begs the question, however, what is it that makes the familiar so appealing? So sought after?
Is it safety?
Is it as rudimentary as our lizard brains, telling us that familiar = predictable = survivable?
Maybe.
But this brings me to a very important question.
From where are you operating from?
Memory or Imagination?
If you’re bored this week, try the other one.
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