The Authentic Power of Imagination

I recently looked out of my living room window and noticed a distinct face in a tree nearby. I continued to stare, and suddenly three more faces appeared in the same tree. The leaves are beginning to unfurl here in New England, creating a watercolor landscape of vibrant green against the earthy backdrop of the forest.

I felt a sense of nostalgia—a time when I still believed in magic. I suppose I still believe in magic, but it is filtered and processed through my exhausted adult brain. So maybe I believe in magic, but I often struggle to feel it. It was easier when my kids were little and still happily willing to go on woodland adventures with me. The trees in my yard have always created a sanctuary for my kids to run through and play various games with their friends.

I loved reading stories when I was little. I imagined the woods being filled with fairies, trolls, and little nymph-like creatures who lived in a microscopic world, sheltered by ferns. I could lie in the grass for hours and watch ants. I collected earthworms in my driveway and observed their movements. My favorite time to play was after a rainstorm in the summer. It would smell like rain on the pavement, and all of the insects would come out and work diligently on the soaked earth.

One of my favorite movies was Mary Poppins (the original), and I loved when the chalk drawings that Bert created began to melt on the streets after the rain fell—a kaleidoscope of color. There is something magical about how the earth looks and feels in the rain. All of the colors are distinct, and the gentle sounds

seem to cleanse away the fiery energy of the sun. It is a chance to connect to another world that emerges when the water soaks the earth.

I have so many more questions now than when I was a child. Sometimes this is frustrating because I know my mind was once so pure and unfiltered, and asking questions often leads to more confusion. As a child, I was present, absorbing everything around me with a sense of wonder and enchantment. I remember lying in my bed, watching the yellow curtains gently dance in a warm breeze. Time didn’t exist in those moments—only feelings.

I always wanted to be a superhero when I was little. I had Wonder Woman Underoos, and I wore them around the house with pride. I would eat my Flintstones vitamin and suddenly have superpowers. My imagination was boundless. I spent a lot of time alone with my favorite toys. In those moments, I was pretending to be someone else, but it was, perhaps, the most authentic I have ever been.

As time went on, I began to have experiences that slowly disconnected me from this mindful, playful interaction with the world. Over time, the world taught me to be afraid. It taught me to keep my emotions inside and to cry when I was alone. I had a difficult time communicating when I was younger. Everything that came out of my mouth seemed to be out of sync with the thoughts in my brain. I began to feel different. I started to feel scared and disconnected from unconditional love.

As I get older, I realize how important imagination truly is. It is a gateway to something greater. If your imagination is playful and full of joy, it can become a deep connection to something eternal. Asking questions is important, but when the questions feel too big, when you feel stifled by the weight of it all—come back to simplicity. Come back to joy and laughter.

I am childlike in many ways. I think people sometimes assume that I am naïve. I would say that externally I am soft, but internally I am resilient, and I never give up. I will never stop learning or transforming in this lifetime. I will always want to understand the human condition and help others. I came here to be of service. This much I know to be true.

It has been years of falling and pulling myself back up again. How else do we truly understand resilience if we have never suffered? So my advice (to anyone who cares) is to love yourself. Connect to the light, and when you do, transformation is inevitable. Be yourself. Trust yourself. You will develop a strength that even Wonder Woman would be in awe of.

You don’t need a Wonder Woman costume or Flintstones vitamins. You simply need your breath and the moment you are in. It truly is that simple.