Our lives are imaginary.
Life does not have to look, feel, smell, taste or BE anything you might believe it IS.
We live very little of our lives in the moment of Now.
As I write this, my pen keeps me grounded to the earth through the wood pulp of this paper but my heart and mind travel through space, time and dreams to weave some narrative here on this paper.
At least two realities occurring at once.
Constant creation that can be played with if we can take time to recognize this is in fact what is happening, always.
For me, this is what my varied practices of slowing down teach me. To become a better witness to my own creative process and that of the world around me.
“In My Imagination” is a very fun exercise I have turned into a daily habit.
Anytime I am talking about what I feel or think with regard to anyone or anything outside of myself that may feel challenging, uncomfortable or heavy I begin my words or thoughts with “In my imagination”.
This phrase allows me to reframe my feelings and thoughts as exactly what they are, my imaginings.
They are not real. I am creating them. I create my lifes story everyday through imagining. Through that imagining I create my daily and life long realities.
In my imagination I can let go of harsh truths or habits that inhibit my free movement internally and externally. I can play and wander in my thoughts and feelings without judgement and fully explore the curiosity and creativity of my own heart.
The last year and three-quarters have brought me two opposite and inter- transforming realities.
The first reality; constant unrelenting solo care-giving to my son who went through his 4th and 5th birthday during this time period.
Zero outside input or support, day in and out for 18 months. The first 6 months my son and I were locked in a Beverly Hills townhome, surrounded by roses and sunshine while we withered and grew inside.
The second reality; a deep state of solitude and inward reflection. Meditation fully actualized in the reality of daily life.
This last 18 months was the the most secluded and solitary space I have ever inhabited. A stretch of months with little conversation or heart to heart connection, if any, save my own.
A profound time to see and experience myself without distractions or mirrors of any kind.
In my imagination I am being reborn, yet again. A new path to walk. New challenges and adventures.
In my imagination I am wiser, more even in temperament, more forgiving and open to what is.
I am supported, loved, capable, free and easy to move, create and begin again – and again – and again…
Our lives are imaginary.