I’ve always been a bit strange.
As long as I can remember I wasted my time with imagining things which weren’t actually there. Or so people claim who cannot see what I see.
Once or twice a year we’d drive up to Hannover were my grandparents lived. The car ride was long, but not dull. I would plug in my earphones and disappear in my own world of imagination. I began to create all kinds of beings in my head; Dragons, birds that flew next to my window releasing loud, horrid screeches from their beak or ugly predators that would chase after us, never actually reaching their goal of murder. I felt powerful; I could control these beings. No one was able to see them, except for me.
As I grew older, I thought this little strange aspect of mine would go away. But it didn’t. If I concentrated hard enough, I was able to imagine skyscrapers, planes even dinosaurs. Nowadays, I can imagine something so clear and vivid, that for me, it is a real part of my world.
I remember a conversation we once had in a classroom. It was about Shakespeare. We had gotten to the part were Macbeth sees the dagger before himself. Yes, for some that might be the final stage of his insanity, but something about that line reminded me of my little secret.
‘Miss B., but…do you never, if you think about something really hard, see it before your eyes?’
She was giving me the ‘you’re crazy’ look and quickly moved on. I was actually a bit hurt, considering she hadn’t thought about what I’d said.
So I guess not everyone has that talent.
Why I think I can see something, if I want to, which I have created in my mind? I think it’s my way of imagining my goals. It’s my way of creating my own world and having control over things. It’s my way of living my dreams.
I remember when I was six; I started imagining a dog at my side. Well, actually a white wolf. But considering I would never get my own dog, due to my parents, I was happy with it. Six years later my dad told me we would move back to the states. Just for that day, I hated him for making this decision.
Later my mother said that ‘if I would come along, I’d get a dog.’
I couldn’t believe it. My dream was finally going to come true after six years. Now I wanted to move. I wanted my dog.
My white wolf was replaced by a real flesh and bones Australian Shepherd female.
I am 17 now. I still sometimes waste car rides with imagining all sorts of things outside my window. It’s something that relaxes me. Time flies by fast. I can enjoy the spare time.
Who knows; maybe I’m not the only one who can create things in an imaginary world.
I have no choice but to believe in the power of imagination.
I live imagination and my imagination lives…or at least I believe it does.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.