On the Dragon’s T(r)ail

Is it true then, that as we get older, we have a tendency to stuff our magical make-believe friends and creatures into chests where they lie unattended, gathering dust in some stuffy, adultly, intellectual attic? For some of us that’s true.

We get so secretive about such things when we grow up! Afterall, it’s hard to believe that as an adult we can be permitted to ‘imagine’ (still) along with the best of children. It’s the reason I love C.S. Lewis and his Chronicles of Narnia.

Walter Hooper, Lewis’ longtime Secretary, writes in his book Past Watchful Dragons how “Lewis created the imaginary world of Narnia as one way to steal past those watchful dragons.” Dragons don’t exist I hear you say under your breath, not now, not in 2008. And I say, BUT they do! Not in a physical sense of course (well, I suppose a Komodo Dragon would count) but I mean, intellectually.

There are days, like today, I dislike being an adult because trying to find my imagination feels so difficult. There’s a toady old dragon I’ll call ‘adult sensibilty’ that keeps poking his nose into my business. “No time for imagination today,” he breathes singeing my eyebrows from ten feet away. Sheesh, I hate it when he does that! He’s a ‘watchful dragon’ indeed. But you know, there’s a hellcat in me.

The thing I love about the kid left in me, is that, I can still be a little sneaky and I still feel an inherent desire to bust out. So I toss a few distracting stones to his left and get the desired effect, it’s the perfect ruse, small things! It’s the first day of Spring and ol’ toady is finally distracted.

I can hear the deeply Shakespearian-like voice of Michael Yorke ringing in my ears as he reads Lewis’ The Last Battle “It’s time … ” and so it is, I revel in the freedom afforded me by so wild an imagination, I feel the lusciousness of the grass beneath my feet and my eyes hurt a little at the blueness of the sky. ‘Watchful dragons’ funny thing is, they never seem to notice children.