I have initiated many surprising discussions with children over the years about what they see and imagine; how they actually see things in their mind.
I start with a general question and follow up to help clarify. I am no longer surprised to find out there are many different responses.
What kinds of things do you see in your mind? Are they things you have remembered? That you’ve seen or done before?
Are some things new and unusual to you?
Anyone see blobs of colors sometimes? Do the blobs move around or change?
What seems to cause pictures to appear in your mind?
What usually happens ‘just before’ a picture or something visual appears?
What kind of stuff do you see in your mind? Objects? Scenes with People?
Are the scenes in Color? Black and White? Gray? Nothing (blank screen)?
I am no longer surprised to find out that there are many different answers.
Give me a thumbs up if you have actual pictures in your mind most of the time.
Thumbs up if you see action movies.
When you hear music, do you get a picture?
If I mention a giraffe, do you see one? If I mention a giraffe with polka dots, do you see what color the dots are? If I mention ‘blue’, do you see something blue?
What about dreams? Do you dream? Do you remember your dreams? Always? Sometimes? Never?
Are your dreams in color? Black and White? No color, just feelings?
Do you have a favorite dream of all times?
Do you have recurring dreams, repeating often or every once in a while?
Do you hear and remember conversations in your dreams? Voices? Sounds? Music?
Familiar songs? Songs with words and melody? Just instrumental? Are you making the sound or hearing the sound? Do you hear drums or rhythms?
Are you aware of smells, scents in your dreams?
Do sensations seem separate from you, as in ‘over there’?
Do you move in the dream? Are you walking, running, dancing, flying, swimming, climbing, falling, crawling, rolling, jumping?
Do you see yourself moving? Or does it feel like you are actually moving?
If you fly, do you have a particular way of flying? Can you describe how you fly?
I can remember a recurring dream of flying when I was in kindergarten. I knew how the two story brick building was laid out, with the sidewalk to the street out front, and the playground off to the side. In the dream I flew over the school grounds, enjoying the aerial view, landing lightly on tree branches. It was a feeling of controlled weightlessness, moving at will, gliding across the playground up through the air to reach a place to perch and observe. Night time, on my own, quiet. Cleared for secret floating, take-offs and landings.
In my waking hours, my favorite person at school was the handsome custodian. Mr. Henry had a smooth rosy tan face, with substantial brows atop those smiling eyes which I later recognized as the good guys on radio, movies, and TV.
Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, of course. Then on to the TV Sheriffs, Detectives, and Private Investigators: James Garner as Maverick and Jim Rockford; Tom Selleck as Magnum, P.I. and the Commander of the Bluebloods patriarchy.
Mr. Henry was simply wonderful, keeping all the wooden floors in the building waxed and glossy; the cafeteria in the basement, spotless after lunch. When it was time to come in from the playground, he would stand on the front steps and call us back by clanging a magnificent golden bell. I loved to gallop toward that sound, then watch him while I caught my breath, waiting for the stragglers to arrive before he ushered us back into the building.
Many years later, a distant cousin visited whom I hadn’t seen since we were kids. In getting reacquainted as adults, I was telling him how interesting it is to ask my third graders about their experiences with imagination and dreaming. I hadn’t given him any specific examples, but admitted that my favorite dreams were of flying.
He nodded and agreed that flying was the best.
“Yeah, and it’s so amazing to realize the kids all have a different way they fly!”
His eyes looked up as he searched his right upper hemisphere and got a goofy blissful smile on his face. “There’s nothing as wonderful as a good flying dream,” he sighed.
“Well, if I may ask, how do YOU fly?”
With no hesitation, he stood up and lowered his head, looking down between his outstretched arms, extending one leg straight back, parallel to the floor, while balancing on the other leg. Then he slowly turned his head sideways to answer. “Like Superman, of course.” And “Whoosh!” He was gone.
“There’s nothing as wonderful as a good flying dream,” he sighed.
I love this Post! perfect for my Birthday day today! I did, just this day, see beyond my usual view of me. It has been a very tough 12 years and finally a double rainbow outside my window and............drum roll 🥁 Sherry's awesome ART! Love ALL - especially the elephants, To the moon, blown away and me, I claim myself Lady Yellow Cloud!
Thank you Sherry 🩵☀️
Mr. Henry would be so happy that he made such a nice impression. You see so much beauty and are so creative and a wonderful teacher !🥰