WHAT IF WE LET THEM DREAM?

Sometimes you just need to sit in a basket in your underwear with a feather from your favourite chicken. 

This is how I found our youngest today. Sitting cross legged, in the basket that usually holds blankets, staring off into space. When I broke his gaze, I asked him what was wrong, he perked up and said, “Nothing! I’m just imagining,” and then went back to his own world.

Remember when we were kids and we used to imagine just for imaginations sake?

I forgot that as a kid I spent hours hidden under my bed, in my closet, or out in a forest, imagining something bigger and better than what I had.  As an adult it seems harder to imagine.  I think that you can’t imagine new things when you’re still swirling around in the muck or even the warm waters of the old/current ones.  It seems easier to stay and accept the water I am in than to pull away and dream of something different. Not necessarily better, just different. It seems indulgent to sit and do nothing, nothing but dream.

who would we be if we gave ourselves the space to dream?

If we remembered how to imagine, just let our minds run away and frolic for even just 10 minutes. Who would we be then? I think we would be happier. Or maybe that’s just me. I think I’ll try and remember more. And more importantly, I am going to do my best to not let him forget to imagine in the first place. So often I catch myself wanting to yell at him to go faster, stop messing around, pay attention. I’m working hard to be chill about it though. Because his imagination is one of the best parts of him, and I don’t want him to forget how to use it.

Did you dream as a kid?

Did you hide away somewhere quirky too, or did you just drift off into your own world in the middle of it all?

Do you dream now? What does that look like? Imagining minds want to know.