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capri0mniThis is a contination of a sort of essay that I posted under a cut here last night (Okay, okay! it's really the ramble of an only-half-awake mind, but I intend on whipping it up into an essay, some time).
To pick up where I left, I wrote:
"Sometime, during the months when I wasn't actively thinking of her at all, [Eloise] went from being my fictional alter-ego to being my imaginary friend. The last time I had an imaginary friend, I was 4. I'm now nearing 40, and I have one again.
I think this is a Good Thing, for many reasons. ..."
Often, we grown-ups have an uneasy relationship with imaginary friends. As this article from The Sesame Workshop, illustrates, parents worry that imaginary friends are not normal, or that they are a kind of lie, and that maybe children should be taught that their friends are not real. When a child character on a sitcom or tv drama is written to have an imaginary friend, it's often as a symbol and a sign of deep emotional trauma, a sort of crutch to support the child until she 'heals', to be discarded like any other crutch, when it is no longer needed.
But when Eloise "appeared" at my left shoulder that morning, instead of at my right, as she had always done since the day she appeared, I was very happily surprised. The left side is controlled by the right hemisphere of the brain, both in terms of the physical body and the cognitive field (For example, I read somewhere that folks who are "Right brain dominant" tend to sit on the right side of a classroom, so they can look to the left as they follow the proffessor). So when Eloise appeared at my left shoulder, it was a sign that I was thinking about her with the right half of my brain.
The right brain is in charge of interpreting relationships -- both the spatial relationships between objects in three dimensional space, and emotional relationships between people... When Eloise "Switched sides" it was a sign that I was thinking about her in the same way I think about real people and things.
Now, don't worry, I'm not sliding into madness (I don't think). I know Eloise is not real in the corporeal sense, and that she only exists inside my own mind (and I think this is one reason why little kids insist that their imaginary friends are real,,, They haven't yet developed strong boundries between their own experience and those of others -- if they have a tummy ache, or know a secret, they assume that everyone else does, too).
But the fact that I am now thinking of Eloise as if she were real is a sign that she has grown the narrow role she first came into existance to fulfill (to be the comic rebuttal to the incessant flamewars on rec.arts.drwho). That means she has developed enough as a character that I can move her on into fictions and worlds of her own, and not just keep her in the "Doctor Who Fandom Box". As a character, she may be becoming real enough for me to move her into any world I choose. Anne Rice had Lestat, I have Eloise. No writer could ask for a richer treasure.
But beyond a writerly treasure, I now have a treasure reclaimed from my childhood: I have an imaginary friend -- someone who may, in a realistic way, be just another part of me, but who speaks with a voice and an attitude independant of the one I recognize as my own -- a voice and a persona which, because it is so distinct from the voice I habitually use in my internal dialogues, is free from the sniping put downs of my Inner Critic (who has parked himself quite firmly in my left frontal lobe). When that inner critic starts telling me my art is no good, and if I experiment or try something new it will be garbage, my friend Eloise can reassure me that the critic is wrong. My real friends often do that, too, but that damned Inner Critic finds it very easy to drown them out. He can't drown out my imaginary friend, because she is so much closer to me :-)
When Eloise woke me up the other day, and asked if I could please get back to writing for the Quadrille, my first response was: "It's been to long, the thread has grown too much -- I can't handle it!"
She sat back on her heels, pushed that birthday hat of hers to the back of her head, and said: "We handled Nyarlothotep last year! We can handle this, too!"
And my Inner Critic had nothing to say.
So yes, maybe imaginary friends are a kind of emotional crutch -- a way we can support ourselves when we are feeling weakened or hurt. But unlike crutches, they can also be a source for joy and play, and imaginative expression. And I think we all need that, no matter what our age!
So there: :-P
To pick up where I left, I wrote:
"Sometime, during the months when I wasn't actively thinking of her at all, [Eloise] went from being my fictional alter-ego to being my imaginary friend. The last time I had an imaginary friend, I was 4. I'm now nearing 40, and I have one again.
I think this is a Good Thing, for many reasons. ..."
Often, we grown-ups have an uneasy relationship with imaginary friends. As this article from The Sesame Workshop, illustrates, parents worry that imaginary friends are not normal, or that they are a kind of lie, and that maybe children should be taught that their friends are not real. When a child character on a sitcom or tv drama is written to have an imaginary friend, it's often as a symbol and a sign of deep emotional trauma, a sort of crutch to support the child until she 'heals', to be discarded like any other crutch, when it is no longer needed.
But when Eloise "appeared" at my left shoulder that morning, instead of at my right, as she had always done since the day she appeared, I was very happily surprised. The left side is controlled by the right hemisphere of the brain, both in terms of the physical body and the cognitive field (For example, I read somewhere that folks who are "Right brain dominant" tend to sit on the right side of a classroom, so they can look to the left as they follow the proffessor). So when Eloise appeared at my left shoulder, it was a sign that I was thinking about her with the right half of my brain.
The right brain is in charge of interpreting relationships -- both the spatial relationships between objects in three dimensional space, and emotional relationships between people... When Eloise "Switched sides" it was a sign that I was thinking about her in the same way I think about real people and things.
Now, don't worry, I'm not sliding into madness (I don't think). I know Eloise is not real in the corporeal sense, and that she only exists inside my own mind (and I think this is one reason why little kids insist that their imaginary friends are real,,, They haven't yet developed strong boundries between their own experience and those of others -- if they have a tummy ache, or know a secret, they assume that everyone else does, too).
But the fact that I am now thinking of Eloise as if she were real is a sign that she has grown the narrow role she first came into existance to fulfill (to be the comic rebuttal to the incessant flamewars on rec.arts.drwho). That means she has developed enough as a character that I can move her on into fictions and worlds of her own, and not just keep her in the "Doctor Who Fandom Box". As a character, she may be becoming real enough for me to move her into any world I choose. Anne Rice had Lestat, I have Eloise. No writer could ask for a richer treasure.
But beyond a writerly treasure, I now have a treasure reclaimed from my childhood: I have an imaginary friend -- someone who may, in a realistic way, be just another part of me, but who speaks with a voice and an attitude independant of the one I recognize as my own -- a voice and a persona which, because it is so distinct from the voice I habitually use in my internal dialogues, is free from the sniping put downs of my Inner Critic (who has parked himself quite firmly in my left frontal lobe). When that inner critic starts telling me my art is no good, and if I experiment or try something new it will be garbage, my friend Eloise can reassure me that the critic is wrong. My real friends often do that, too, but that damned Inner Critic finds it very easy to drown them out. He can't drown out my imaginary friend, because she is so much closer to me :-)
When Eloise woke me up the other day, and asked if I could please get back to writing for the Quadrille, my first response was: "It's been to long, the thread has grown too much -- I can't handle it!"
She sat back on her heels, pushed that birthday hat of hers to the back of her head, and said: "We handled Nyarlothotep last year! We can handle this, too!"
And my Inner Critic had nothing to say.
So yes, maybe imaginary friends are a kind of emotional crutch -- a way we can support ourselves when we are feeling weakened or hurt. But unlike crutches, they can also be a source for joy and play, and imaginative expression. And I think we all need that, no matter what our age!
So there: :-P
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-09 04:28 pm (UTC)As witnessed by your new icon...
Date: 2003-12-09 05:13 pm (UTC)Everytime I leave her alone for a while, I get the polite tap on the shoulder to remind me she's there. :)
A polite tap as opposed to a butt-kicking... she must like you, too! ;-)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-09 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 07:46 am (UTC)(I was sticking out my tongue at all those who insist fantasy is something to grow out of)