There is something beautiful about an active imagination
It takes courage to imagine out loud. Expressing your desires for the world to hear will leave you wide open for criticism and negative opinions.
I will never forget this client I had when I lived in Florida. He was 75 years old, cranky and very outspoken. I loved talking with him because he said exactly what he meant. We were having a conversation about business and the realization that to grow, you have to step outside your comfort zone. I told him that the one thing that gets to me is peoples opinions. He looked me square in my eye and said: “opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.” That was 16 years ago, and those words still live with me.
I wasn’t born brave that much I know for sure. I was such a chicken, always afraid to speak up for myself when I was getting picked on. Because I was such a chicken, my imagination did not exist. I remember when the teachers would tell us to draw a picture of a scene that made us happy and use any colors that were necessary to express that moment. I would sit there the entire time trying to pinpoint a feeling, and I always came up with nothing until I looked at someone else’s picture and was like oh sure that seems pretty good maybe I’ll go with that.
When I went to college I figured now is the time to do exactly what I want to be exactly who I want to be and try something new… I’m going to be expressive and dig down into that bag of nothing and try to find my imagination. So what did I do? I minored in theater and dance.
Life Changing Experience
That’s when I stood in front of a class and had to act out an impromptu scene and nailed it. I had to pretend that someone had broken my heart and in the middle of dealing with that I was delivered the news that my mother was dying. My mother had cancer which that I knew, but now cancer has spread to every part of her body, and she was laying in a hospital bed with only moments to live…GO
I waited my entire life to not give a shit what anybody thought of me and live and breathe only to please me. I tore down all the walls that I thought were made of brick and stone. But once I started tearing through they felt like newspaper easy to come down and easy to throw away. Tears were streaming down my face, and I was beaming with pride. I was left trying to imagine what it was like to not imagine.
You could have chosen to read any blog, but you chose mine, and I’m honored.