I was a lucky child. I grew up in a great neighborhood with plenty of kids.
We came of age in an era when you shouted “bye” to your parents as the door was closing behind you. Or slamming in some cases; unintentionally, of course. We were just excited to go outside and play. Baseball in the street (car!), riding bikes, swimming in the pool next door… There was plenty to do and lots of kids to do it with.
As much fun as I had with the other kids, I still relished the moments when I could play by myself. I think I sometimes said, “no, I can’t come out right now,” just so I could do my own thing. Just me and my imagination.
Of course, we used our imaginations collectively too, but have you ever seen a group of kids trying to imagine the same thing?
“Alright Buddy, you’re under arrest.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yeah you are. We caught you robbing the bank.”
“Nuh-uh, I’m invisible.”
“Watch out, there’s a monster in the bank.”
“Hey guys, let’s pretend I can shoot laser’s out of my eyes.”
It can be utter chaos.
My brother always made a great collaborator. I guess you could say he was my imagination mentor. One of my earliest memories is he and I playing Olympics. He suggested we used tipped over chairs as our toboggans. He was older, so of course, I always came in second. Thus, arose the desire to play alone at times.
Playing by myself was different. There was no compromise. I was the author of the narrative. I was the hero (and the villain). Not to brag, but I won the World Series several times. I was a detective chasing down the bad guys. I was one of the the smallest, skinniest kids in my class, yet I was the heavyweight champion of the world.
With imagination, my potential achievements were limitless. My world was limitless.
My backyard served as the stadium, the desert, the jungle, or another planet. The linen closet was my high school locker. (I don’t remember what I was pretending, but I specifically remember putting my books in my locker. One of my text books was a cook book.) My bike was my motorcycle and my parent’s car… well, that was my car. But it was also my space ship.
Imaginative play was some of the most fun I had as a child. The scenes Boc dreams up in Imagine the Day are the types of things I dreamed up as a kid. They were truly some of the funnest days of my childhood.
Once we lose our ability to imagine and dream, we forfeit all the life adventures we can witness by ourselves and with others.
It’s our childhood that continues to inspire me to imagine and dream big as an adult. Great post Erno! Love you brother.
Loved your article! Imagination is wonderful to have!