Category Archives: imagination


There are nights I lay awake.  I listen to Andy and Otis breathing beside me and I just can’t sleep.  I close my eyes and try different types of relaxation tactics to lure myself to sleep only to find I am still awake.  I change my breathing patterns to adjust my heart rate and 20 minutes later readjust my pillow thinking that will help.

Sometimes I just have a hard time getting my brain to just stop thinking.  Sometimes I carry the weight of the world as I am trying to ease into a deep sleep, but sometimes the things that keep me awake are so absolutely ridiculous that it infuriates me.  If I have to think of those things, why can’t I do it at lunch?  Or while I am driving to and from work?  Why does it have to be at 3 am?

So last night was one of those nights.  I was just about to sleep when in my head I heard Andy say “I didn’t lock the door.”  It was a comment he stated hours earlier when he let Otis into the back yard, well when he tried to let Otis out but Otis refused to go outside.  When Andy closed the door he said, “I didn’t lock the door.”  Knowing we would let Otis back out before bed it didn’t matter because we would lock it then.  But as I lay there I started to wonder.  Did we take Otis back out before bed?  Did we lock the door?  What happens if tonight is the night someone decides to break in?  Two weeks ago I got up with Otis around 2:30 and was waiting with his leash at the front door when I looked across the room out the back door and saw a flash light.  I thought I was seeing things, so I closed my eyes and looked again and sure enough the unmistakable glow of a flashlight was in our newly fenced in back yard.  I got Andy up and he investigated and the person was gone.  We have our theories on what/who it was.  But while I was laying in bed last night I couldn’t help but think, maybe we were wrong?  What if they really were casing our house at 2:30 AM and now they are going to come back and break in because our back door is unlocked.  So I got up and checked the door.  By that point in time my mind was going crazy with “What if” situations.  The back door was locked.

By now there was no stopping the barrage of thoughts running through my brain.

For example: most of us can agree that the sky is blue (on a normal non cloudy day).  This is excluding people that have any visual impairments (color blind or other).  So people with normal vision can say the sky is blue.  But how do we know that we are seeing the same thing, the same shade of blue?  I know blue is blue because I have been taught that blue is blue, but what if the blue I am seeing is completely different than what other people see blue to be?  What if other people see blue as what I see as green?!  We all see a red apple, but what if we aren’t really seeing the same color?  We are all seeing what we have been taught is a red apple, but who is to say what I know is red is the same that someone else knows as red.  Does this matter?  No it doesn’t.  Especially not at 3 AM.

Or.  Do people hear me as I hear me?  My recorded voice on an answering machine isn’t the same voice I hear when I am talking.  Which voice is what other people hear?  And if it is my answering machine voice – I am sorry because that is annoying.  Which voice does Otis hear?

Or.  When we smell a rose, are we processing that smell the same?  Some people smell coffee and hate it while others love it.  Is that because we are processing it the same and that is preference, or because we aren’t smelling it in the same way?

Or.  Why are my toes, short, fat, baby gherkin toes?  They have always been this way.  My toes have always been stumpy.

Or.  What is Otis thinking?  He was dreaming at 4 AM.  He was running and whimpering.  It wasn’t his whine like he was on a trail, but whimpering.  Then his tail wagged.  What is going on in his head?

Nights like last night annoy me so much.  It wasn’t the night that I thought about the past and the future, just random things that make it to where I can’t shut my brain off.  All the while Andy and Otis had no trouble sleeping.

I see a nap in my near future!


imagination: my own little world

i blamed my dad earlier for long drives and since i don’t want my mom to feel left out so…i blame her for my imagination and being in my own little world.

let me explain:  when i was growing up my mom was rarely without a book in her hand (a real book with paper and words and a cover – shocking i know).  i can remember watching tv as a child and mom with her nose in a book.  i can remember her laying on the beach on family vacation and her nose in a book.  i can remember her floating in the pool with a book (threatening me and will not to splash her or else), i can remember her hiding in her closet to get away from me and will with her nose in a book (ok maybe not that one).  but the point is that she read – a lot.

i always thought that my mom was ignoring me when her nose was in a book.  i always thought i could get away with whatever i wanted because i could stand in front of her yelling her name, hang on her arms or climb in her lap begging for something, hang from the rafters of the house, stand on my head, roll in the floor crying and having a temper tantrum and she wouldn’t bat an eye…just calmly get one hand free so she could turn the pages.  but at the last second she would say my name and i don’t know how she did it (reading and being fully in the book and still able to tell the exact moment i was going to hit/pinch will and to stop me) but she did.  it wasn’t until i got older and started going on youth trips that i understood.  i remember taking a book on the youth beach trip and sitting on the towel and being totally involved with my characters and the murderous plot and being able to police the kids without batting an eye.  one of the other adults with me was like how do you do that?  i can honestly say i have no idea…it’s my mom’s fault (i am pretty sure that was my actual answer).  i was able to ignore the things that they did to try to annoy me but was able to get them to be nice to each other and focus on the important stuff (like not letting them drown).  after that weekend trip i knew that i had her magical power too.  it is amazing.

needless to say, i got my love of reading from her and for me when i read i throw myself in the story completely. i get attached to the characters and invested into their fictional lives. i feel the emotions that they feel and the experiences that they go through. when i am reading a good book i see if unfold with my own eyes in my own little world and am completely consumed (i am sure if andy were sitting next to you while you read that statement he would be nodding his head like crazy). that doesn’t sound so bad but see the problem is i don’t do that with just my books. i do it with songs and movies and tv shows. (since my regular shows aren’t on until fall i am back to my summer show rookie blue and have gotten so attached – and we are just 2 episodes in). my imagination in my own little world runs away from me and i get excited to watch my shows, read a good book, hear a song with a story line, see a play, people watch in walmart (or restaurants) or day-dream while i was dishes and do laundry.  as i hesitate to admit this but i jump into it completely that if i am reading a sad book sometimes it takes me a minute to “get back into the real world” and remind myself that it is just a book and they are fake characters or to realize that it was just a very vivid day-dream that i created and not actually an event that happened.  i hesitate to admit that i get so caught up in some of my shows that i get mad at the characters and have to remind myself that they are playing roles and not actually in love or hating or trying to kill their costars.  i hate to admit that i jump so fully into my own little world and imagination because sometimes i think if i admit that i will be admitting to and owning up to the fact that i am crazy…but i’m not crazy.

i often find myself consumed by my imagination and in my own little world…and i am ok with that – it isn’t really my fault.