A few days ago Ruby asked me a question and I zipped my mouth closed. She laughed and I unzipped my mouth to laugh with her. In a few minutes she asked, "How do you do that?"
I answered that everyone had a zipper on their mouth, she just hadn't found hers yet. Then she said something like, "You're making that up. That's not real!"
"That's not real! That's not real!" I cried?
I can't believe it, she's only six! It's not already happening, is it? Has she already given up on imagination? Is she heading down the dark hall of "REALITY" in full throttle?
I told her that imagination fuels every movie that's ever been seen, every fairy tale that's ever been written, and all the advertisements that are made (well, maybe not ALL the advertisements.) Commercials are the thing that sends her Dad to Dallas every day, he uses his imagination and then gets to come be with us at the Ranch every night.
Imagination is everywhere. I explained to her that there are two kinds of people -- those that honor their imagination by creating and those discard and distrust their imagination. The distrustors must rely on the creators who tell the stories, paint the pictures, and dip into an infinity, a treasure trove of expansive ocean fronts and way out wests. The creators hold the title to their imagination real estate.
Ruby's eyes lit up and her smile sparkled. I felt the shift when she gave herself permission to play without judgment.
"Hey mom!" she said, "You want to play pretend?"
"Sure I do," I said, "you want me to help you find that zipper?"