So what of imagination when it’s splayed open, the little ones exposed and raising their voices like commercials in explanation: Look here, Mama, at the great invisibles; see the wolf in the curtain, the train come to take us, the deep water below the bed?
So what of it - when I give the yeah -yeahs and the uh-huhs? What of it dies down a little?
As a mother, now it is my honor to put out fires or to let them burn, and how can I know how to enter in without my own attentive imagination in tact and the power of empathy in force?
…continue reading at (in)courage.me.
Friday, November 6, 2009
{the.invisible.real}
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