I do not understand my imagination. It baffles me. At times, I will hold an object in my mind, seeing parts of it with great detail, while other parts are rounded, flat, even vague. What is it that causes one particular aspect of the image to impress itself with such clarity on my mind? Why one part over the other? I find that the imagination works at a dull, even lazy pace. It presents the image, but without investing too much energy.
If, however, I focus the imagination, it produces startling results. Then I truly see. I hear. I touch. I even smell. I suspect that my imagination is a sort of conceptual organ which needs exercise. Reading provides this exercise, but only to some extent. Writing provides more, but still only to some extent. I have to stop, go within myself and deliberately project on the canvas of my mind. The more I do this, the more this capacity seems to develop.
The imagination is underrated and under-appreciated. It is such a powerful way to deal in the abstract. It is such a powerful way to make memory feel present-tense. It is such a powerful way to make the future seem present-tense. I am able, with this remarkable organ, to hold in my mind unities, when all I truly understand are some of their parts. I suspect that the imagination is a key to understanding that which transcends the empirical.
Einstein used his imagination to propel his theoretical findings. I would like to use my imagination to propel even a bit more self-understanding. I am fascinated by my internal cosmology. The physics of my person seem foundational to my understanding of that person’s interaction within the physics of the external world.
