Portals in Puddles.

Reflections on the creative gift of Thought.

photo by Author

Walking or perhaps I should say wandering is one of my favorite pastimes.

My looking flowing softly over shadowed mountains and then Bam! Tripping itself up in sunlight spilling from a wildflower at my feet.

Breathtaking beauty in the grandeur of distant vistas, clouds like castles floating, and then delight! The castle morphs into a dragon rolling on it’s back in laughter.

A puddle that looks like a portal to another place ... sky, clouds, and trees beckoning me to Jump! ... into an upside-down world.

Drawing closer a tiny feather spins gently on the portal puddle and again I'm drawn to worship.

The feather changes into a fairy boat, sailing in deep, dark waters. A miniature mouse looking remarkedly like Reepicheep standing on the shaft-bow, hands shading eyes searching the shore for something.

Suddenly I'm way way back. Back in the far off past remembering...

Deep, dark water lapping my child face.

Deep, dark, green water in an algae-filled swimming pool. Imagination filling the dark depths with an enormous, ferocious crocodile, then flailing terrified for the bank... laughing at myself, as I scramble ashore.

Shaking off the same deplorably delicious terror felt all those years ago, I laugh again as I play with my new found toy "Thought".

Thought! This divine gift with which I am able to create portals in puddles, diamonds in dewdrops, and crocodiles in a neighbour's pool.

Of course, it’s always been there, this Thought with a capital T.

This toy, this play dough of experience.

Yet only in recent years have I begun to grasp a vague understanding of its miraculous nature and begin the delicious life long lesson of learning how to play with it.

Before this awakening, it seemed that Thought used me. I, a prisoner to its whims, never knowing the illusion of it all.

Thought. Fluid, flowing, fearfully scary, gloriously powerful, always changing.

From wild imaginings that lead to stories keeping children enthralled on a wintery night; to cooking up a sumptuous nut laden feast in the kitchen...

Its plasticity is phenomenal.

It is the queen of malleability.

With it, I create moment by precious moment every experience I will ever have.

Love, joy, wild laughter, fear, frenzy or frailty it’s all up for grabs.

I am the witch of my world, creating heaven and hell with equal effortlessness.

Eyes from long-gone times clear and, "click", I’m back on the edge of a puddle watching a little feather spinning gently round and round.