Thank you for inspiring me to imagine more - not just for others - but for myself - building myself with these imaginings even at a point in life where more seems behind me than ahead.
I’ve always wondered why the whole power of sheer positivity thing didn’t work for me, seemed like an empty promise, smacked of quackery. That we need “our lows to appreciate our highs” is a different perspective - probably not a popular one but honest.
I like that you don’t merely tout imagination as a quick solution but as a starting point for the “work” of making choices based on our dreams. What I also find interesting is the idea that imagination, dreaming, isn’t just a fluffy pastime but something that is necessary for our survival, what will save us.
I've always felt the empty promise...it felt like only watching life through one eye open, the other closed and ignoring anything else, or watching a scary movie but fast forwarding past any scary parts? What's the point?
This weekend, our core four zipped across town on new bits of motorway that reminded us what we're capable of. That the tricksy & messy bits are worth it.
And, when we reached my grandparents, we laid baskets of flowers. Because we will always radiate joy for them, and tell them that we love them & miss them.
I may be the only one of the eight who does so in Canto & English. But, I've always been the namesake with the "piano hands" & the older one of the two who "speak like firecrackers". And, the other seven know that Porr Porr's death anniversary hits me different as I'm her Mini with her name as my middle one. So, we mark the calendar & always show up on or before August fourth. For them both. Always.
Our kin passes on lessons & insight & support & laughter & light & love like sticker sheets, and bags of sweets from a pick + mix. For generations. We know no different.
I was literally counting down the days to my retirement. My dream job was always teaching, but as you said, it was whittled down to a political mess I didn’t even want to be a part of.
I guess I let my imagination run wild! I have since retired and am now in my second season as an ice cream truck owner and operator, living out my childhood daydream and BEST LIFE!! 💕
I imagine ... there was a little girl who imagined herself as so many things: a star with long gloves and a cigarette holder in a black and white movie, a fine woman having tea with all her friends, a librarian, Miss America, a dancer [think gypsy in chiffon], a princess, a mom, among SO many other things. I had a very active imagination.
It came into play very well for me when I experienced a nervous breakdown. I heard [benevolent] voices. I could picture my inner child, who I called Swamp Ophelia since she lived in a Louisiana swamp all alone [she since has a great playhouse, a pretty party dress, and we talk often]. I had a therapist who embraced my voices [since they were telling me ... imploring me ... not to kill myself]. And yes, I even had those three little birds on my doorstep I found them very comforting. [Maybe because my father and brother were both avid birdwatchers?].
"They" asked me to "fake it to make it", which I thought was bullshit. I was too far deep to fake anything but living in the darkness and being followed by soul sucking Dementors. So, I lived in my swamp and felt everything, talked with Ophelia, and did a lot of energy work [I could no longer meditate].
"They" gave me medications. I talked and talked in therapy. Learned to integrate fond memories and good vibes [with tapping] and eventually the Dementors just sort of drifted off on their own.
Imagination saved my life. At 63, I am still all for it, even if it triggers anxiety sometimes instead of a safe space to be in.
I am genuinely happy these days because I have a little girl in a sunny swamp, and because those three little birds keep telling me that every little thing's 'gonna be alright. ... because I have imagination.
Oh Tyler your nimble soul and words, wow. I attended a family reunion this weekend for the first time in 40 years. The true open soul of those real people, and yes there were those who tried so hard, with their positivity. We know ....we feel. It's okay I thought to struggle and then there is the glorious up. You have nailed it like Shakespeare. Thank you Thank you Thank you.
Tyler,
This one gets a standing ovation, my dude!
Thank you for inspiring me to imagine more - not just for others - but for myself - building myself with these imaginings even at a point in life where more seems behind me than ahead.
It’s not over yet!
So much of what lies ahead is unwritten, too. How exciting!
A standing ovation from you, sir, is a treat and an honor indeed. Thank you!
I’ve always wondered why the whole power of sheer positivity thing didn’t work for me, seemed like an empty promise, smacked of quackery. That we need “our lows to appreciate our highs” is a different perspective - probably not a popular one but honest.
I like that you don’t merely tout imagination as a quick solution but as a starting point for the “work” of making choices based on our dreams. What I also find interesting is the idea that imagination, dreaming, isn’t just a fluffy pastime but something that is necessary for our survival, what will save us.
Maybe the “bridge” between those highs & lows are our dreams and time spend in imagination that carry us on for that one more moment?
I've always felt the empty promise...it felt like only watching life through one eye open, the other closed and ignoring anything else, or watching a scary movie but fast forwarding past any scary parts? What's the point?
This weekend, our core four zipped across town on new bits of motorway that reminded us what we're capable of. That the tricksy & messy bits are worth it.
And, when we reached my grandparents, we laid baskets of flowers. Because we will always radiate joy for them, and tell them that we love them & miss them.
I may be the only one of the eight who does so in Canto & English. But, I've always been the namesake with the "piano hands" & the older one of the two who "speak like firecrackers". And, the other seven know that Porr Porr's death anniversary hits me different as I'm her Mini with her name as my middle one. So, we mark the calendar & always show up on or before August fourth. For them both. Always.
Our kin passes on lessons & insight & support & laughter & light & love like sticker sheets, and bags of sweets from a pick + mix. For generations. We know no different.
I live this phrase/imagery- “Our kin passes on lessons & insight & support & laughter & light & love like sticker sheets...”
Aww, that's kind of you. Ta.
My wee face is probably next to any definition of an '86 baby & 90's kid who has a cousin/twin longer of limb & 26 minutes older.
Hopefully not anything creepo on Urban Dictionary.
You have truly “radiated joy” with your words and moved my heart with your imagery...beautiful
Oh. Well then. Big call there, Mr. Colvin.
Thank you.
Gorgeous last phrase, oof. Wow.
You’ve done it again, my friend. Captured all those thoughts swirling in my head! 💕
Ahh Lisa, thank you so.
I was literally counting down the days to my retirement. My dream job was always teaching, but as you said, it was whittled down to a political mess I didn’t even want to be a part of.
I guess I let my imagination run wild! I have since retired and am now in my second season as an ice cream truck owner and operator, living out my childhood daydream and BEST LIFE!! 💕
That is wonderful! I am about to enter my last year of teaching. It is time for me to imagine my 2nd life as well!
Congratulations! Enjoy describing everything as “the LAST!”
You will love your hard-earned retirement—everyday is Saturday! 🤗
This is so FLIPPING AMAZING! I love this transition more than I can possibly say. YES!
Beautifully said 👏🏼
I imagine ... there was a little girl who imagined herself as so many things: a star with long gloves and a cigarette holder in a black and white movie, a fine woman having tea with all her friends, a librarian, Miss America, a dancer [think gypsy in chiffon], a princess, a mom, among SO many other things. I had a very active imagination.
It came into play very well for me when I experienced a nervous breakdown. I heard [benevolent] voices. I could picture my inner child, who I called Swamp Ophelia since she lived in a Louisiana swamp all alone [she since has a great playhouse, a pretty party dress, and we talk often]. I had a therapist who embraced my voices [since they were telling me ... imploring me ... not to kill myself]. And yes, I even had those three little birds on my doorstep I found them very comforting. [Maybe because my father and brother were both avid birdwatchers?].
"They" asked me to "fake it to make it", which I thought was bullshit. I was too far deep to fake anything but living in the darkness and being followed by soul sucking Dementors. So, I lived in my swamp and felt everything, talked with Ophelia, and did a lot of energy work [I could no longer meditate].
"They" gave me medications. I talked and talked in therapy. Learned to integrate fond memories and good vibes [with tapping] and eventually the Dementors just sort of drifted off on their own.
Imagination saved my life. At 63, I am still all for it, even if it triggers anxiety sometimes instead of a safe space to be in.
I am genuinely happy these days because I have a little girl in a sunny swamp, and because those three little birds keep telling me that every little thing's 'gonna be alright. ... because I have imagination.
and Tyler ... you are an inspiration. thank you so much for being here.
Oh Tyler your nimble soul and words, wow. I attended a family reunion this weekend for the first time in 40 years. The true open soul of those real people, and yes there were those who tried so hard, with their positivity. We know ....we feel. It's okay I thought to struggle and then there is the glorious up. You have nailed it like Shakespeare. Thank you Thank you Thank you.