Tag Archives: imagine

Think Like Me

I’ve discovered that most people don’t think like me. And I’ve also discovered that a lot of people do. Sort of.

Like yesterday. We had a bit of a thunderstorm (a rarity here on the lower west coast of Canada) and having grown up on the prairies where they really know how to do thunder, I enjoyed the rumbling. In the midst of it, I got a text from my daughter saying that Nikolas, her almost three year old, had informed her that the thunder was either green or yellow. I can only assume the color was dependent on the intensity of the sound. We laughed about it, but I realized later that Nik thinks like me. Maybe not in terms of the color of thunder (which I have never thought about), but in principle.

I chose the picture for this post because it is a jumble of multicolored letters and numbers. This is how I think. Letter and numbers have colors, they have genders, and they reside in specific places. I bet you didn’t know that. But before you call the psych squad to come and pick me up, allow me to explain. It’s all a part of the imagination process. While I doubt that an accountant would think of the number 4 as male and red in color, I have no problem with seeing it that way. I’ll even go one step further and tell you that the male, red number 4 has a British accent. He likes to be a closed 4, not open at the top so the cold can get in. He’s quite reserved. Unlike the letter G, who is an orange female who can’t keep her mouth shut.

With this rather over-the-edge post, I have shared a bit of weirdness. For a reason. You are limited only by what you can imagine.

You may not think like me. And some of you are breathing a sigh of relief that you don’t. Or scratching your head about why I do. But you DO think.

May your ideas know no bounds.

Oh yeah. It irks me that the number 4 in the picture is the wrong color.



Filed under Being Creative, Imagination, Writing

Thinking in the Rain

When you live in Canada on the west coast, you learn to live with rain from November until April. A lot of rain. I look outside and see little streams of water running down the road, puddles in potholes, and windshield wipers flapping on every car that drives by. Yeah, I know, it’s an exciting life I lead.

Today I am thinking in the rain.

Who is the lady with the bright pink umbrella who walks so slowly past my house every day at 10:30? Where is she going? Does she have a husband, children, friends? Is there something troubling her? Maybe she catches the bus to go to a job she despises, knowing that if she doesn’t work the bills don’t get paid. Perhaps she goes to visit a friend or to care for a loved one.

What about the couple next door who come and go numerous times a day in their beat-up Chevy van? Or the teenage boy who never wears a jacket.  Or the man with the limp who walks his dog.

These are the people I see when I sit at my desk, looking out the window. They don’t know I see them. They don’t know that I wonder what their story is. So I imagine stories for them, and some of them show up in the stories I write.

That’s what thinking in the rain does to me.

Weird, huh?


Filed under Imagination, Thinking, Writing