what's going on outside the window?

the sharp voice pierced my reverie and i snapped back to reality. in that instant i'd been dragged back from a make believe world of imaginary characters and fantastic locales. back into this claustrophobic classroom with boring (bored?) humans.

the teacher's question was easy to answer. nothing. that was the only answer that could have made sense to her. now if she'd asked me what was going on in my head, that would have been a story indeed!

day dreaming

as a child, i spent much of my time day dreaming. or so they thought. but these dreams were actually no less real to me than reality (as presumed by social consensus). they were excursions into the land of imagination.

spinning stories of fantastic adventures where i was the main character of course. swashbuckling hero and all that. why, even divinity was beneath me as i twisted and turned the game as i liked, the whole universe falling in place as i saw fit.

if the world outside was just the teensiest bit curious, i'd have happily taken them along for the ride. and this is what i'm trying to get at right now.

the dreams we whip up in our quiet moments alone are the magical stories waiting to be shared with one, few, or many. across a cozy campfire with a loved one or broadcast over the interwebs to millions.

telling tales

we're taught to not tell lies. but i think it's an amazing ability one can learn to harness and forge toward a greater, mutually beneficial impact for self and society.

lies can hurt and harm both self and others while the white lies genre often claims innocence and at times compassionate qualities as well. but let's forget reasons and consequences to focus entirely on the how.

how does a child spin a story to either avoid getting punished or to get a (undeserving) reward?