Childhood sometimes seems like a magical time. A time when we were free and only limited by the vastness of an overactive imagination. A time of youthfulness, vigor, fearlessness, exploration, and a time when the brain would be in overdrive creating fabled worlds with Aliens on mars and you could bring along your pet stuffed tigers too.
But how did I "live" these exciting daily adventures of my youth? Well, My G.I. Joes didn't fight Godzilla next to He-Man (who also happens to be the Master of the Universe) for no reason. NO, like any other explanation for the action, there was a cause. Cause and effect, see? Yes, the seed was planted by a greater force and presence than the one I already knew. While I was pre-occupied with those intergalactic robots called Transformers, conquering the greatest of sand castles that my child-like hands could sculpt from the depth of my imagination, I was fully unaware that something had taken place, that there was a growth in my mind. It was that which came from mother, the seed she planted, the story. From that initial spark from a greater imagination than mine, mom read me stories before bed each night, and with this fuel I was able to go beyond the outer limits of reality and back again. From that initial spark, an overwhelming flame of curiosity consumed my imagination, and I was left to create the answers that brought sense to the Universe. At least the best a five year old could do, when explaining the reasons of the Universe to himself. The G.I. Joes stormed the sandy walls of my backyard empire, and confronted the evil Skelator, only to be outnumbered and undermanned. But not to fear, those gallant robot vehicles that could become humanlike, the Transformers, came from the heavens down to Earth and liberated man...and the little plastic men rejoiced. Yet the celebration of great victory was cut short, by non-other-than the greatest threat of all. The radioactive, eighteen story tall monster lizard with radioactive breath, known as Godzilla. This thunder dragon breathed chaos into the recently brought harmony. Darn that Godzilla!
It may have been only that of a child's overactive imagination, yet for this child, that war really did happen, it was a reality. In those twenty minutes, wondrous things occurred, I lived within the moment and was part of the story, but it didn't end there. Well, actually it did, because I had to go inside for lunch. However, what was unbeknownst to me was the fact that my own mother constantly formed and fed my imagination every night before bedtime. And then in my dreams my stories would become reality. And so powerful was this influence, it has stayed with me to this day. Probably another reason for my becoming English major. So someday when my mom scolds me for not getting a real job, I can remind her, it’s your fault for reading to me! Thanks mom.
And now years later, my professor asks me to return to that mind of a child.