Mental vacation well worth the trip

The infinite power of the imagination never ceases to amaze me. You could look to such things as the 11 million copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows that have sold since its release last month and say without qualification that folks love a fantastic journey.

I don’t know if our lives have become so humdrum that such an odyssey is necessary, but it’s clear - more now than ever before - that escape is essential.

Cast your mind back to pop culture classics like Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings trilogy or perhaps Stephen King’s early work like Carrie or ‘Salem’s Lot. You can experience landscapes that are so unique and yet so much a part of our world that they coax us to enter even though our hearts race at the thought and no small rat of fear gnaws at our intention.

No matter the danger, we identify with characters that battle against all odds to find redemption, true love or the righteous balance between good and evil. Imagination is the conduit along which we careen as fictional heroes struggle to achieve the resolution we all crave.

I thought about this as I observed the kiddies playing early Saturday morning. They’re no longer infants, of course, and quite capable of entertaining themselves, which is a boon to mama and me. Each is independent and often more interested in doing his or her own thing than participating in a joint effort.

However, once in a while there’s no rivalry for space or time and cooperation occurs. What’s even more remarkable is imagination becomes the bridge between them; they act in concert when each pursues a similar path that’s purely a byproduct of a shared and wonderful creativity.

I had proposed bacon and eggs for the twain and gained consensus (another miracle!), so I was in the kitchen amidst the clamourous sizzle of food on the griddle and the heavenly aroma of brewed coffee. I peered around the corner to ensure that World War Three hadn’t broken out and there they were, sitting on the floor together, each with a baby (doll) in hand, comparing notes.

Our big girl’s daughter, she explained to her brother, was swaddled in a baby blanket because she was a newborn, you know, and needed to be warm. It wasn’t time for her feeding, but she wasn’t tired yet and should be close to her mama.

Our young man had his child – another girl – on the floor beside him. A number of toy trucks and tractors dotted the landscape around him and he told his big sis that he was currently on the job.

She asked how his baby was doing and he told her that she was sleeping right now. She would probably wake up soon and he’d have to take her into the truck so he could finish the work, but she was okay with that. She liked being in the truck as much as he did.

Funny, but I darn near burned the bacon watching this exchange; two little people being so much bigger than they actually were and yet so child-like that I couldn’t help but smile.

For all the Harry Potters and Frodos of the fictional world, I thought it magical that the incredible power of imagination had become reality in our living room. We forget its potency and importance as we age, but kids remind us and take us back, in spite of ourselves. Good on them for that because William Wordsworth was right; the world is too much with us and a mental vacation fueled by imagination is well worth the trip.