“Imagination is more important than knowledge.” ~ Albert Eisenstein
Recently my daughter Heather and I sat outside beside the fire pit in our backyard. It was one of those breathtakingly beautiful August evenings, just at the moment of gradual transition between the sunset’s golden light and the black velveteen sky. A sky studded with its diamond stars – rolling out above our heads like fabric from a bolt. We had been reminiscing about the funny things she and her twin brother, Joel, had said when they were little. Their father and I had written these treasure nuggets in two journals; one for Joel and one for Heather. I came up with this idea with the intention of giving each of them their book on their 18th birthday. What actually transpired was beyond priceless.
Joel came home from The Institute for an approved “family visit”. He wanted to be with Heather for their shared birthday. Because Joel was still in The Program at The Institute, he was not supposed to see any of his old friends. So we celebrated their birthday across the waters of the Hood Canal with a family they had known all of their lives; Alan, Bonnie and their son Nathan.
What a magical evening it was. Bonnie had pulled together a ton of appetizer foods. And I of course, brought my signature birthday cake. I had made this cake for so many teenagers in the neighborhood, it had become semi-famous and dubbed “The Urban Legend Cake”. After we ate, out came the little books. Steve and I alternated reading aloud the little stories, phrases and just absolute gems only a child can come up with. For instance, Steve telling Joel to stop whatever infuriatingly naughty thing he was doing at the moment. And Joel informing Steve that he didn’t have to stop because the Bible said it was okay. Steve said ,”Oh really? Where does it say that?” And 5 year old Joel immediately retorted, “In the book of Joel!!”
So we sat there reading aloud the essence of their united twin childhoods, laughing our heads off and celebrating Heather and Joel’s 18th birthdays. It was a perfect way to usher in this rite of passage.
When Steve and I started these little books, I think the kids were around 3 years old. I started Heather’s and Steve did Joel’s. I entitled Heather’s book “Heather Hold the Moon?” That was just some random thing she liked to say when she was little. At one time, she switched it to “Heather hold the seagull?”
Tonight, now in her early 20’s, sitting and talking beside the fire pit, she was remembering that memory. And completely out of the blue she said, “Heather hold the seagull?” Without a pause, I replied,
“That’s one of those things that seem fun, but if you do them in real life, they aren’t fun at all. But you can think about doing them and having them be fun. That way, you still have fun.”
I meant what I was saying in all seriousness. That is, until I looked over at Heather. Without much success, she was suppressing laughter. What I had been doing was something she has pointed out to me for years now. She calls it “over-thinking”.
The Envelope
I always wanted to be a “Yes Mom”. Not a “No Mom”. I wanted to show my children a magical world filled with the wonder of the “why not?” and the “what if?” instead of constantly defaulting to a world filled with negativity, impossible impasses and steel clad envelopes one would never dare to think beyond. Rather, perhaps they could grow up not only “thinking outside the envelope”, but maybe even find a summer breeze blowing through a world where they could live so freely, they had no need to possess an envelope to be inside or outside of at all. To learn to not only “think outside the envelope”, but not even have an envelope.
What I forgot was how un-magical and un-safe this world really is.
“Nobody is really free. Even the birds are chained to the sky.” ~ Bob Dylan
