Imagination is a wonderful thing. It makes real-life mundane situations way more exciting than they actually are. Take the picture above, for example. The purpose of taking this picture was to tell a story that was not even happening. The setting invokes a sense of desolation, isolation and danger. My posture in the picture suggests that I am being hunted and am on the run, or am lost and confused, or was taking an innocent walk when a forest of dead trees suddenly surrounded me, invoked by the dread warlock Horrifus. In this moment I must gather my resources and wits to secure my survival. I must choose between fight or flight - else all might be lost!
Alas, reality was not so interesting.
The truth is, I was taking an innocent walk, but with a group of people on the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. We were on the Middlehead trail, taking in fantastic views of the Atlantic ocean when we came upon this forest of dead kindling along our path. Our steps faltered for a moment as my friend spoke what was on all of our minds, "Now, this is spooky." Inspired by his statement, I quickly set up my camera, shoved it into his hands and told him to take a picture of me in the trees. Voila! Setting captured, story told!
Sometimes it makes me sad that reality is not as exciting as our imaginations can be. That walk we took along Middlehead trail was very pleasant and enjoyable, but nothing as stimulating as being attacked by the dread warlock Horrifus happened on that journey. Then again, I should be grateful that is the case. This past week the people of Paris, France went through a situation that I am sure they wish was imaginary - the fodder for action-adventure movies or evocative photographs telling a fictional story. Seven coordinated terror attacks on French civilians in public places killing 129 people. Suddenly what was always considered safe was no longer so. The stories that had been read in news about other people in places like Syria, had suddenly become the people of France's own reality. The imaginary had come to life.
The worst thing about the imaginary becoming real is that the sense of control we had when the event was solely confined to the imagination is lost. No longer are we able to be fit and mould events into a narrative that leaves us as the heroes of the story. When the imaginary becomes real, instead of being the heroes, we fall into the role of victims. Worse, we no longer know what to define as reality, so we begin to accuse innocent people, who are trying to flee a similar terror, of being the same as the terrorists who attacked us. We try to take control of the story by initiating a counter-attack, becoming aggressors in our own right. This is not a video game though. Here counter-attacking means the loss of real lives, sometimes innocent lives. Even as we take up arms to be the heroes in our own eyes, we become the villans in others. Reality is not as simple as the imagination and there is no game guide to get us through it.
In our reality the fight or flight response is the natural human reaction to a situation like this. It takes a lot more imagination to find a positive alternative for our historical narrative. What irony that it is when we can no longer separate the imaginary from reality that we need our collective imaginations more than ever! This is the time when we all need to individually ask ourselves this question: how do we as a people take control and start shaping a narrative that is actually heroic, where aggression that breeds aggression is no longer a dominant theme in the world story we are telling?
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