There was a time in my life that I had a superb imagination. During my childhood I never read comic books, I just looked at the pictures and allowed my imagination to form the action in my mind. As my reading skills were rudimentary, I paid no mind to the very simple dialogue written to enhance the story line. As I matured and relied on the printed word more and more for information, I realized one day that I had lost my ability to use my childhood imagination. Without the written word to provide me with the correct story line I felt lost & abandoned. I discovered this lost after a long hiatus from entertaining myself with the colorful & inexpensive comic book.
Picking up a comic book for public perusal at my child’s pediatrician’s office, I looked carefully at each picture. Before I could understand the complete meaning of it, I felt compelled to read each caption to complete the full measure of what I thought it meant. I paused, raised my head, looked downward & to one side without seeing anything in particular, remembering that during one time in my life I didn’t have to read the simple dialogue in comic books to satisfy my understanding of the story. In my childhood I just went from one scene to the next without reading, weaving effortlessly the story in my imagination. I attempted to recapture my childhood’s gift of imagination, but it didn’t work for me now. I felt a need to read each and every line of the brief dialogue. I knew immediately I couldn’t go back in time and recapture a cherished childhood gift. Through study and practice I honed my verbal skills, but I had lost my ability to rely entirely on my imagination to interpret my world, as if the profane replaced the sacred. The mystery of imagination became understandable in the verbal. Like all things in life, each step forward has its unintended consequences. garland dale.