Infinite Possibilities

when i discovered my imagination

I don’t know why I remember lying alone on my bedroom floor, surrounded only by the energetic pink and blue walls. I was a spy, an agent with spectacular skill, because weren’t we all eight-year-old spies at one point? My current predicament: trapped in a cage by the elusively defined “bad guys.” It was closing in on me, threatening to keep me down forever. Its weight pervasive against my chest, my arms and legs unable to to move or lift. I was trapped, terrified.

Exhilarated.

Here I was, the blonde girl on Cutlass Street, with all my big brothers to remind me that I was nothing special in the way only big brothers can. But alone in my room, with only my imagination for a friend, I could be anything.

I had been on these adventures before, the ones in my mind where I could go anywhere or be anything, even a world-renowned ice skater who grew up in the desert. I lived in these adventures; I lived for these adventures. But this time, trapped in my invisible cage, the outcome seemingly hopeless, I felt grateful. A new kind of awareness.

This thing that had rattled around in my skull and provided countless hours of similar exploration, I became aware of what it was offering me. It felt as if I had stumbled across a superpower I had had all along but had not realized. My spirit tingled with the possibilities of a quiet space and the freedom for my mind to roam; I knew I would never be bored again.