by Giuseppe Chiaramonte

A story can be considered a moment, experience or fragment of imagination that is unique to the individual and born of another substance. This substance is subjective, malleable, and directed by the whims of inspiration. Look to the heavens and therein lies substantial proof of another dimension which one is able to observe but not touch. We are not designed to be contained within a phrase, sentence or word; consider for a moment the ocean depths who harbor great monsters that we will never see. Our imagination sets into motion the cognitive ability to fill in the jigsaw puzzle with the necessary pieces to make sense of the unfathomable. Have we not done this with religion? At what point will we finally consider that truth is a story representing parts of the whole.

Tales woven from the beginning of mankind connect our humanity with meaning, understanding and a search for what we cannot hope to comprehend or understand. It is inevitable that we will come to a point when the exploration into our imagination leads to conclusions we may not accept. For example, when we are young children our parents are perfect in our eyes and one’s imagination cannot comprehend that our parents regardless of their apparent faults are imperfect. Life evolves through the aging process and experiences shape our perception of relationships leading to a better understanding that both parents are fallible and will one day die. The imperfection observed in personality traits and actions sours our outlook and results in a brief lull; a redirection in the sensibility and logical applications that naturally transition from child to adult. Acceptance of these fact and/or truth’s are therefore not a choice but an inevitable outcome. I may not want to accept all or some of the facts which purports a whole new set of problems because emotional growth becomes impeded. Again, look at a mature flower that has been watered appropriately and received enough sunlight and allowed to thrive. Take away one element such as water and the flower loses one petal and thirst begins the destructive process. Slowly the flower withers and dies and in much the same way we humans function through our ability to write a story. The story itself functions as a vital element in feeding the deep recesses of our subconscious. Video games, television, and movies have replaced traditional plays, writing and operas but they trigger similar processes. A human must escape to the soul and embark on a mysterious journey into the infinite imaginatory abyss. 

The beginning of a story allows one to seek what was lost in their brief childhood; rescue the unimaginable so that the imaginable becomes possible and continue the cyclical ponderings each human is endowed with upon birth. Unfortunately, the majority of persons have experienced traumatic childhoods and this accounts for the lack of continuity our species associates with one another. Broken shards of glass are impossible to put back together yet as children, we try in vain to reconstruct; not understanding the outcome is always the same. Failure does not lead to success only a reimagining as the cyclical pondering is reversed, molded, and reborn into a new creation.

Can we drive a car with the same amount of speed and control on a circular racetrack in reverse in comparison to forward? There are some who would argue that there are driver’s with this ability but for the sake of expediency there has been no proof to say that one can drive a car in reverse 150mph with the same amount of control as going forward so we will conclude it is not possible. Consider the what happens when a childhood imagination is prematurely damaged by mental or physical injuries. Trauma injects a poison into the soul tearing apart any hope of building a suitable structure to house the burgeoning wandering mind. The mind and soul cannot move forward and begin to function in a slow reverse seeking rest or escape from that which is painful. What should have been a time of exploration becomes a time of freefall. Think of a climber scaling the walls of a high mountain. Hands search for the next handhold and feet grip foot holds all the while internal muscles are learning to be pushed beyond their limits and growth occurs without notice or intent. What happens when the hiker falls? Death or serious injury reverses all the positive forces working internally and externally. The fall is the reverse motion of forward movement. We cannot continue to ignore the stories power to affect our human experience. Even a fragment of imagination holds the authority to change social structures, create new ideologies and illustrate a fundamental truth. But there is an end to all of this and we must be able to reach a mountain top and move on to the next. Even though I see a star, I cannot touch it and thus the infinite is subjected to the finite capabilities only we as humans can explore within our confined bodies. Our soul is constantly stoking the eternal fire; it burns when we get close and we must be careful not to extinguish it before our moment to capture what is our unique cosmic-moment.