Isn’t it interesting what we agree to as children? Like staring out the window in school only to be told to stop daydreaming. Or belting out a song with passion only to hear our voice is obnoxious and off-key. Or bleeding emotions on paper attempting to fulfill a dream of being an author only to receive mediocre marks because “It’s been done better before.”
Of course, all of these appear ridiculous now. But as children, we don’t know. Believing them as truth is what matters. I heard all of those things and believed them until I decided not to anymore.
For years, I didn’t actively use my imagination. Instead I coasted through life relying on the conditioning of my upbringing to control my thoughts and my results. I didn’t sing either. And the worst part is that I didn’t write. Actually I did, but in secret exclusively for my own pleasure.
Then I began studying how to use my mental faculties. It became apparent very quickly that I had always lived life...