I don’t think we have come close to imagining just how powerful we really are. Even I, who lives in her imagination most hours of most days, has a hard time expanding my imagination past what’s imaginable. Lately, I’ve started to get the idea that perhaps I should start scheduling daily imagining sessions with myself as a way to help me with my manifestations and as a way to help me focus on the goals I very much would like to reach in this lifetime. These would be similar to endurance sessions, in which one participates in order to see just how far one could go. Imagining sessions would serve a similar purpose, to see just how far I could stretch reality into the unknown.
But for a hundred and one reasons, I don’t. I would love to have the time to sit and imagine the future of schools, the future of relationships, the evolvement of the internet, or the news, or politics, or the media, and even Hollywood. Yet, too much happens daily and I don’t set the time to assess, reflect, refocus. Instead what I do instead is I catch pockets of reflective moments while going about my business. Sometimes, a good honest conversation brings about a moment of epiphany. Sometimes it might result in a resolve for a new leaf or an inner promise made quietly, deep within me. Sometimes, these reflective moments happen spontaneously, when one least expects them, like when walking outdoors on a gorgeous day. Sometimes, a particular phrase in a book might stir something to rise to the surface, and set forth a determination, an inner assurance. These resolutions often are so silent, so seemingly insignificant at first that even we ourselves might miss it if we get distracted.
Yesterday, I had such an event. I was watching a YouTube show about teacher preparation and sex education standards in schools and all of the sudden I felt an irresistible pull to be involved, to have my individual voice be part of THIS very conversation in some important, meaningful way. Without divulging my crazy past too much, suffice it to say that my entire adolescence and late childhood would have been completely different had I had proper sex education in elementary school. In other words, had someone, anyone, simply dared to bring light to my situation, to shatter the silence of what is in fact sexual abuse, of its illegality, of its sinister affects, of its criminality, I might have felt brave enough to speak, seek help. But nothing like that happened in my late childhood.
These hunches are the ways in which Infinite Universe speaks to us all. As Florence Shinn, my all time favorite metaphysical author always said, “Never argue with a hunch”. I plan on following through this hunch and making sure my voice is heard in the teacher preparation sexual education standards. But in order to act upon a hunch one needs to imagine this idea stretched out. What will it feel like? what would it look like? what would it sounds like? only in imagining the idea splayed out like a blueprint will it even be possible.