Why growing older should never mean growing out of wonder.
There is a peculiar thing that happens as we grow older.
Somewhere between learning to tie our shoelaces, paying electricity bills and remembering which night to put the bins out, we're apparently expected to become sensible.
We are told that fairies don't live beneath mushrooms, that trees don't whisper secrets, and that the creaking floorboards are simply the house settling.
Well, speak for yourself!
Some of us still leave room for fairies, converse with the occasional tree, and remain deeply suspicious of unexplained noises.
And frankly, I think the world is all the richer for it.
Who Decided Wonder Had an Age Limit?
Children have a remarkable talent for seeing possibilities where adults see practicalities.
A cardboard box becomes a magnificent castle. A crooked stick transforms into a wizard's staff. A puddle becomes an unexplored ocean, possibly inhabited by a rather disagreeable sea monster.
An adult sees a box that needs recycling, a stick that ought to be removed before someone trips over it, and a puddle that will undoubtedly ruin a perfectly good pair of shoes.
Same world. Entirely different adventure.
Somewhere along the way, we're encouraged to exchange wonder for common sense.
Personally, I think we were sold a rather dodgy bargain.
The Imagination Doesn't Retire
Whoever decided imagination was something we should grow out of clearly hadn't met some of us.
Mine, for example, appears to be getting increasingly unruly with age.
It has a dreadful habit of producing ideas at inconvenient hours, inventing characters who refuse to behave, and suggesting projects when I already have quite enough to be getting on with.
And do you know what?
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Imagination isn't simply about believing in impossible things. It's what allows us to dream, invent, solve problems, tell stories and envision a life different from the one we're currently living.
Every wonderful story began with a question.
What if?
What if a perfectly respectable gentleman discovered something utterly ridiculous lurking in his garden?
What if an ordinary dream carried an extraordinary message?
What if the universe was considerably more mysterious than our daily routines would have us believe?
And what if we stopped dismissing every peculiar possibility simply because we couldn't explain it?
I'm not suggesting we abandon reason.
I'm merely suggesting we leave the door ajar.
You never know who — or what — might wander in.
A Little Nonsense Is Good for the Soul
There is something wonderfully liberating about being just a little bit ridiculous.
Not irresponsible. Not completely barking mad.
Just sufficiently eccentric to make life interesting.
To laugh at unexpected things. To make up stories. To follow a peculiar idea simply because it makes us smile.
To look at an old house and wonder about the lives that unfolded behind its windows.
To gaze at the stars and remember that we're standing on a small spinning planet in an unimaginably vast universe.
And yet we spend an extraordinary amount of time worrying about whether the towels match the bathroom.
Good grief!
Surely life is far too mysterious and magnificent to be entirely occupied with practicalities.
Growing Older Disgracefully — With Imagination Intact
I've come to suspect that one of the greatest privileges of growing older is finally reaching the age where you can stop worrying quite so much about what other people think.
Want to write a children's book? Write it.
Want to explore Tarot, astrology, dreams or the mysterious workings of the universe? Splendid!
Want to create an imaginary world populated by peculiar characters who seem to have minds of their own?
Welcome to my world.
And if you happen to believe that fairies might still be conducting secret meetings beneath the hydrangeas, well, I certainly won't be the one to spoil your fun.
There are quite enough people in the world prepared to tell us what isn't possible.
I'd rather spend my time wondering what is.
Welcome to My Peculiar Little World
House of Mystique was born from a lifelong fascination with stories, symbols, dreams, mysteries and the extraordinary possibilities of imagination.
It's where whimsical children's adventures can happily coexist with mystical arts, curious questions and the occasional philosophical detour.
Some days I'm creating stories about Mr Puff and Ruby Queen.
Other days I'm exploring the language of Tarot, the mysteries of dreams or an idea that arrived uninvited while I was having my morning coffee.
There is no shortage of ideas.
Hours in the day and my brain cells, unfortunately, are another matter entirely.
But that's the curious business of imagination.
The more you use it, the more it seems to have to say.
So whether you're eight or eighty-eight, I hope you'll resist the temptation to become entirely sensible.
Read the stories. Ask the questions. Follow the peculiar ideas.
And never, ever let anybody convince you that wonder has an expiry date.
As for the fairies?
Well, I'm certainly not evicting them.
Stay curious. Stay wonderfully peculiar.
House of Mystique
Realms of Imagination
