Imaginationing

Sometimes, I stumble upon the realization that I no longer have much of an imagination.Practicality and reality have caught up with me.Then again, when I think back to what I imagined as a child- it was never strange creatures, or magical experiences, or even anything out of the ordinary. I imagined very real-life situations- like being a figure skater while dressing up and gliding on our blue carpet, or being an Indian, living off of whatever existed in the woods behind my house. I always imagined myself as some kind of made up person, and almost everything that I did accompanied a narrative flowing through my head.

While I was running through the woods with my father, I was actually in an Olympic race and the newscasters were telling my story as they watched me run, and try to win.

As I did the laundry, I pretended I was in a contest- yes, a laundry contest. I tried to pull the wet clothes out of the washer and transfer them to the dryer in as few hand fulls as possible. As I folded the clothes, everything had to line up perfectly and I had to smooth out every surface. I wanted to win this thing!

While I played Carmen Sandiego on our turquoise iMac, I imagined myself as a real-life detective, trying to find her.

As I rode my bike in laps around the church next door, I was in one of the biggest bike races that ever existed- and I was the youngest bike-racer to ever win the world title.

The wild stories that I wrote in elementary school? Yeah...they were about a girl who was really good at absolutely everything she ever did.

I guess you could say my imagination was still working...somewhat. It was a stretch to ever think I could be a famous athlete (I mean, really, I'm about as coordinated as an ostrich trying to walk a tightrope), or go back in time to be an Indian. But doing laundry and being good at everything? That's just weird. Apparently, real-life was just more appealing to me, and maybe it still is.

I find myself doing things like looking up recipes and cleaning the house...for fun. The simplicity, the purposeful acts, the practicality- that's kind of what I've grown accustomed to. Oh dear, I sure hope I'm not really as boring as I sound.

Maybe I need to pursue wild imagination a little more. Maybe I need to open up my creativeness a bit more. Or maybe, I'll just continue to sit and be surrounded by precisely what life really is. I think I'm okay with that, but am I missing out?

Maybe I'm being too harsh on myself. They say you are the one who knows yourself the best, but they also say you are your harshest critic. Someone please tell me if I'm as crazy as I seem...

(continuing to ponder these thoughts as I walk over to win the dish-washing contest)

-Hannah