“...life begins with living” 



The universe knows precisely where it’s going. It’s been headed there for almost fourteen billion years. The drive to get to where it’s ultimately heading is the fodder of countless philosophical inquiries. Our lives are tiny flashes against the massive scale of this journey. That leaves our presence as such a small contribution, we sometimes get lost within why we are here. As a child, my imagination took me to whatever part of the world I could possibly dream of. Whenever a moment didn’t fill my really with enough of what my consciousness needed, my subconscious crept into the scene. I could see and feel myself as whatever suited my fancy. 

  “...where does our imagination go to?” 

As a fifty-five year old, I don’t have those moments of dreamlike bliss. Today my imagination seems to piece together established components of actual experiences. A far cry from the childhood visions of where I imagined myself into the future. It’s as though actual experiences crowd out the capacity to consciously dream. Maybe this is the opportunity for writing to subjugate that void, and unleash the dormant imagination hidden within me. It’s not like I need to make a living from my efforts. Simply reconnecting with a part of me that’s drifted beyond my immediate reach. Feeling as though my flash in this universe might just linger past my ability to tell a story about what I see. Most humans live a soon forgotten existence once their voice fails silent. Just a small few make enough noise to resonate across the years. Many of those are notorious rather than notable. 

  “...butterflies, and zebras, and moonbeams, and fairytales” 

We all reach for a purpose in hopes of justifying our fears of realizing we’re alone within this thing called reality. Surrounding ourselves with people and things to calm our anxieties of never truly knowing why. Putting your head down and ignoring this peripheral element of consciousness appeases some, while others languish in their ego driven absorption for they know no better. There’s a better purpose captured within each of us. It doesn’t shine all by itself, it must be nurtured and cultivated by the right circumstances to take root and grow. Once it sprouts, there’s no hiding it’s beauty. It will grow as tall as your life will let it. Obviously, mine has outgrown my ability to imagine it, so I guess I’ll just have to spend a little time fertilizing and watering those roots.