Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Only Bad Thing

I love having a good imagination. When I was a child, I would lay in bed at night and put myself to sleep by imagining stories, scenarios, whole worlds - I never fought my mom on going to bed because it was so much fun for me to lay there and imagine. As an adult, I love being able to imagine how other people think and feel - it has made me more sympathetic to those around me. And yes, I do still imagine myself to sleep sometimes.

It's fun to be able to speculate about things and wonder, "What if this happened?" It provides so many possibilities to life, so much to anticipate, and it makes life a mystery, wondering which of the many alternatives might actually turn out to be the truth. 

But that's where the only bad thing about having a good imagination comes into play. I'm rarely surprised.

By the time something happens, I've already imagined it happening in a million different ways, in different settings, with everyone wearing different colors and styles and listening to different music at the time ... and so when it happens, it's like I already knew it would.

That's why I appreciate surprises so much. When something happens that really does catch me off guard, it's an extra delight.

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