“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”
C.S. Lewis
Children seeing things that adults cannot is a favorite horror theme. The idea is that imagination and openness fade as we age. I don’t think that is true in the way most storytellers would have us believe. The ability to imagine the impossible, the improbable, and the unseen is in the nature of human beings.
Of course, I believe we are fashioned in the likeness of the Creator, and you have only to look at Creation to see imagination at work. The platypus jumps immediately to my mind.
The problem with “adult” imagination lies in a change of focus. We shift from an imagination that causes wonder and amazement to one aimed at production and manipulation. Nature and Creation become something to bend to our vision rather than an awe-inspiring, all-is-possible, environment to find our place in. Imagination gives way to invention.
Thankfully, we have the ability to reinvent—to put ourselves back where we belong. As Lewis points out, fairy tales become a delight once more. Yes, I know some of these tales are horrific. For the writer in me, all the better to scare you with, my dear.
There is one other aspect of a return to imagination that I enjoy—invisible friends. They are the real writers. They come from the imaginary(?) worlds in my head to visit and tell me stories.
When I try to write them down and fail to get it right, they correct me.
My body has lost the vigor of youth. I have metal in my back as a reminder of the wear and tear of life. But my mind has recaptured what it lost in my quest to “earn a living”. Paradise was lost in trying to manipulate the world. I have found that daydreaming—being transported to worlds known and unknown—is our purpose in life—it is paradise regained.
“I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.” ~Bob Dylan
Maranatha
