I have been an imaginative person my whole life long. I remember filling hours each day in some sort of world existing only in my mind. I loved the blank canvas experience of painting any picture I wanted. I could go anywhere and be anything.
Recently, I have written an essay I am very proud of called The Power of Imagination. You can read the essay in its entirety over at Kindred Mom. Here is an excerpt.
I thunder among the stars galloping at a breakneck pace astride my noble steed, a stunning pegasus-unicorn hybrid. She is the most breathtaking creature: crowned with a glittering horn, a face and body the color of a twilight sunset, and gigantic wings that push through the air with hurricane force. A jeweled tiara adorns my head, catching sunbeams and scattering light in a million directions. I leave beauty, courage, and truth effervescent in my wake with the white satin cape that flows weightlessly behind me. Golden sword drawn to fight for those who cannot muster their own strength. I am altogether graceful and fierce–menacing in the eyes of those who perpetrate evil.
All of this occurred in my mind’s eye as a seven-year-old brown-haired girl. In hi-top tennis shoes, a green sweater and faded blue jeans, I ran wildly around the playground, flapping my arms, yelling for evildoers to look out. I was a timid and cautious child throughout my early years; shy when put on the spot, but as I imagined myself to be a fierce and courageous warrior, I began to see I possessed those heroic qualities within me.
I put these new found traits to work as the hero figure of my imagination became reality on the playground one spring day that same year.
A couple of kids in my class began to tease my new friend. She was a sweet, quiet girl with a crooked smile, new to our school and shy. In some ways, she was just like me, except she had very noticeable hearing aids, which became the subject of her torment. I was the only friend she had at the beginning of the year. I could see past the hearing aids and noticed the fun-loving girl wearing them. The other kids taunted her about not being able to hear, calling her hearing aids ugly. Unwilling to tolerate the ridicule, I stood up. Just average me, no crown, sword or intimidating mythical beast by my side. I looked them squarely in the eyes.
“Leave her alone.”
Please head over to Kindred Mom to read the whole essay.
*What truths did your childhood imagination unlock for you as an adult?
*How are you encouraging imaginative play in your own children?
*What is your fondest memory from your own childhood?