I’m just going to rip that line out of a paragraph so we can digest that a little bit. It seems to me that there are two big parts to this thought: a) we can reach others, and b) we can appeal to imagination in order to do so. Suddenly, imagination is a tool in our hands, and a connective one at that.
Maybe there is writing out there that does not strive to reach others. It is destined to burn at the hand of its maker or descendants. Still, generally writing strives toward others. And, even if we skip over the huge topic of audience, what if we consider imagination and writing to be a way even more simply to reach others?
Daydream interractions. Seriously consider what another would have to say. Let external influences creep in in an intentional, but discerning way.
I’ve always said that writing is therapeutic for me. It helps me balance. It helps me to think and therefore be better at everything else. Still, maybe it is therapeutic in another way. It is a place for me to speak and a way that I face, yet feel less, loneliness.
Part of that is definitely the aspect of adult time. And just maybe part of that “adulting” is our innate reaching out to like minds or generous hearts.
What do you think? Maybe we can pose the question this way: does writing accompany? Is it one attempt toward reaching out?
And, how does our imagination reach others in our daily lives? Does it only shape conversations or analogies? What kind of limitation exists between imagination and perspective?
Ponder well, folks. 🙂 Or not. Anyway, warm wishes your way!
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