Are your fantasies a pleasant diversion or is reality a rude ineruption of your fantasy?
So what am I on about here? The definition of fantasy is the act of imagining impossible or improbable things. You might be expecting that since I very much enjoy getting my hands dirty thus the feel for the feel for the tangible and all that is reasonably within grasp that I’d take a rather dim view of fantasy.
In fact that isn’t the case. I think imagining the impossible or improbably is part of what makes us creative, what has us stretch the boundaries. Today a smart phone is reality – but fifty years ago it was fantasy, even when Startrek came out the “communicators” were fanciful. Today it’s reality – and cheap reality. Now the developments that resulted in the technological marvel that is the cellphone where incremental – and were distributed over a wealth of folks. But each of them had component fantasies, those bits of technology and knowledge that they figured out and paved the way forward.
Things don’t even need to be that far out to be “fantasy”. The wood fired pizza oven that I am in the process of building can reasonably fit into that category. That it’s well known how to build drops the achievability bar pretty far, but still in an environment where most folks buy rather than build there is a level of fantasy there – especially since I am new to working with stainless steel, which has a reputation for being a demanding material to work with.
I’m also not going to knock kicking back and enjoying a fantasy for relaxation and downtime. As a kid I read under the covers with a flashlight because I’d get so into a book, and I do quite enjoy kicking back on the couch to watch a good show or movie.
But, you know, as that kid who’d read most of the night because I couldn’t put the book down I also knew that I had to face up to the reality that the next morning I’d be dragging my ass but better put a smile on and make the most of the day. I knew that while I might be buried in the pages of a fantasy that reality was still there and needed to be treated with respect.
Maybe that’s part of why I am so ok with fantasy – I can enjoy it or use it to spur me on – but I always keep a bit of me planted in reality so when the fantasy fades and only reality remains it isn’t a shock.
I wonder how many folks today don’t have that other foot planted in the reality field, for whom life is lived between fantasy and deeper fantasy. Those are the folks whom when reality confronts them – as it is almost sure to do at some point – are likely going to be grumpy at the intrusion of reality.
For my part, I’m off to do a bit more work to make the fantasy of the wood fired pizza oven a reality.