This post  shares some highlights of a daily, self-assigned, homework exercise to explore the role of imagination in my day-to-day life. This blog is  a direct continuation of the previous post, The Tyranny of Imagination; if you haven’t already done so, please head back and read it before proceeding.

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• I was planning a little weekend getaway with Eric. I thought to myself, this is what I think my retirement/perfect future with Eric is going to look like — continual travel, moving around, staying in hotels and Air b&bs, exploring the world. In fact, this is what we work and struggle so hard for today. It is a fine fantasy when my asthma is in a good place. But last night, I woke-up unable to breathe. It was a reminder of all the times I have woken in musty, moldy, allergen-ridden hotel rooms gasping for breath. And, as I age, my asthma keeps getting worse: How do I really expect this imaginary future to unfold and, if it does, how pleasant will it actually be in light of my health?

 

• The dentist talked me into crowing a cracked tooth to protect it from further damage. Now, a few weeks later, it seems like the crown has made the tooth worse and now I will need a root canal. I imagined my intervention would ‘fix’ my tooth, but instead it made it worse.

 

• The fires were raging up in NorCal and a co-worker had lost his home. As I lay in bed, I thought to myself that, “tomorrow, I will invite him to stay with me till he gets on his feet.” I fell asleep congratulating myself on being such a ‘good alana’, taking someone in. I imagined the kudos from friends and acquaintances, the loyalty won by this co-worker. When I called him in the morning to invite him to stay with me, I learned another co-worker had already taken him in, marking the death of good hostess alana in just one night.

 

• Eric and I went for a walk in the neighborhood. We were bored, not expecting much from the day. But we stumbled on a small museum and went in to find an amazing art exhibit. It was such a great day even though we hadn’t planned it.

 

• Yesterday I went to Neiman Marcus because I have a gift card to spend. I walked through the aisles of fancy clothes, fantasizing myself in each dress, imagining the message such- and-such a pattern, or color, or cut would tell the world about me. Like a piece of fabric can force people to think of me in a particular way. Mostly, I love the fancy shit –the Goyard and Prada and Guccis of the world. At least when I want people to think I am rich, pulled-together, fashionable and buttoned-up. But then, at other times, I fear giving off that vibe: at work, at the Wat. All I want is for people love and accept me, clothes are just a tool. But if I anticipate the same exact outfit to will cause me to be accepted in some circumstances and rejected in others, can that outfit really make me loved or accepted or protected; after all, circumstances, people, fashion, clothes, me, are constantly changing. Why imagine a single object to be my eternal ticket to adoration?

 

• On some level, I think Eric and I had imagined we would make it back to the West Coast one day: Cali, Portland or Seattle maybe, that would be the place we ultimately retired. But this latest round of fires blew up that plan: Asthma + 6 month long fire seasons is not a winning combo. Now, the dream is dead long before it was ever born out in reality.

 

• I was sore from yesterday’s workout, so I wanted something easy today. I decided to go to a class that is usually pretty tame. But, for the first time ever, the teacher decided to do a “deck of cards workout”. Each suit has a different exercise: squats for hearts, pushups for spades, etc, and the face number is how many to do. The workout is totally random, it depends on the cards each student pulls. Totally contrary to my hopes and expectations, I pulled the hardest cards, doing a workout from which I almost collapsed.

 

• Eric and I decided on a last-minute trip to Vermont today. We love VT, and on the drive-up, in the aftermath of loosing our West Cost retirement plan to fires, we started talking about moving to VT. We started sowing the seeds of a new plan, a new fantasy, with out ever reflecting that the last one cost us pain to plan for, pain to loose, and never even an ounce of joy given its failure to come true. I watched how even just fantasizing caused tension ( he wants rural and I want city) and stress (could we afford VT’s exorbitant tax rate). Fantasy about the future cuts both ways. There is hope, but also dread and whatever the outcome, there is work and stress trying to force the one we want to come about. All for something that can latterly go up in smoke in an instant.

 

• Eric and I signed-up for a late night, lantern lit, guided tour of the famous Sleepy Hollow cemetery. It sounded like a fun way to celebrate Halloween. Only it was freezing, raining, the lanterns were putting out kerosene fumes that made me gag and the tour was unbelievably boring. I had been so excited, but ultimately I wish we had stayed home.

 

• I seriously hate NY. I think the worst of the city and everyone in it. Soooooo, when I forgot my purse on the train in from Greenwich, I was absolutely certain the purse was gone fr good. I had no hope. No expectation that it would be salvageable and I was already imagining the process of canceling my cards and getting a new ID. As a formality, just to be responsible, I went down to the train station lost and found to inquire if some mythical being –the kind NYer – had turned in my bag. Sure enough, it was there in lost and found. Ever Credit card, every cent still intact. Pretty lucky NY isn’t as bad as I imagined in this case huh?