“So Mummy, what’s your story?” comes the daily question from my ever-inquisitive preschooler. It is always tacked on to the end of a tale that he’s just plucked from complete obscurity, a result of an over active imagination.
My son, you see, is a storyteller in the making. And not only is he eager to share his own unusual anecdotes but also be regaled by ours. And I love, love, these little exchanges we share because to me it is the beginning of fostering a mutual love of all things literary that he will share with both his Daddy and I.
And what better time is there to cultivate story-telling and imagination that when you are a child? This part of your mind is likely as fertile as it will ever be. It hasn’t had time to be thwarted by the pressures daily life of or ground down by reality. Idealism is found everywhere, and the possibilities of weaving together quirky tales are endless. It’s a thing of pure beauty, a child’s make believe universe. If only it was not so fleeting a feeling and this whimsy would stay with us as we transitioned into adult life…
As an 8 year old, I had bright, shiny dreams that twinkled like stars in the sky. I desired nothing more in the world than to be an author. And I still remember the day that dream was shattered by my Grandfather who, while only wanting the best for me, scoffed at the very suggestion. “You don’t want to be broke you’re entire life, do you?” he demanded – speaking no doubt from experience what it was like to start with nothing and have to work damn hard for every penny. And suddenly, my bubble burst. I packed that little treasured heart’s desire away into the furthest recess of my mind. And while I couldn’t bear to see it slip away all together, there it has lingered, ever since. Like a butterfly with a broken wing, not quite able to fly, but nowhere near ready to give in.
So for my son, I wholeheartedly vow, I shall support each and every dream that he cares to conjure. If he has an aspiration that mirrors my own as a young child, I will be doing everything in my power to nurture it. And if it something so completely foreign to me, but is his true heart’s desire, I’ll be doing whatever I can to understand and support it.
He’s already dreaming big, my boy. Already I couldn’t be more proud of him…
You can also read this post over at I-AM Magazine by clicking here