I’m a big believer in the amazing qualities of a hyperactive imagination, but I’ve recently had cause to see the darker side (quite literally) of the imagination.
I’ve mentioned before that I participate in a very lovely activity called open water swimming. It’s wonderful. Combine swimming, a quarry, and rarely having to turn around and you have the bliss that is open water swimming.
I find swimming to be an incredibly peaceful experience, even in a quarry. But I like my wetsuit because it: a) makes me float, b) is my safety net in case anything happens because I won’t sink down into the depths, and c) feels like a forcefield to protect me from the creatures lurking below. I intended (like last year) to swim in my wetsuit this entire summer, but something happened along the way. Some of you might have experienced it too... a heat wave. So, the heat came and warmed the quarry water, rendering my beloved wetsuit a “sauna suit.” It had to go, but I was scared to swim without it.
I rallied my courage, patted my dear wetsuit that rested on a bench, and approached the water. I could do this. Really. And I did. Into the water and swimming along. And then...
... my imagination hit.
I could imagine every movie where a woman is swimming, her vulnerable legs swishing in the water as a creature watched her from below. I shook that thought off, but others were lying in wait. See, with the heat, came a water temperature conducive to the exponential spread of algae... that I was swimming through.
Was it killer algae from outer space? Flesh eating algae? Or was there a portal deep below into another dimension where my future agent was waiting to be rescued?
Hey, could happen.
Moral of the story: imagination is a wonderful thing, but not while swimming through warm, algae-filled water, that is home to scores of unknown creatures. At those times, check your imagination at the water’s edge—it’s really for the best.
Quote for the Day from Angel, episode entitled “Underneath”
Wesley: Are you telling me the great Illyria, idol of millions, was limited to one small dimension?
Illyria: I travelled all of them as I pleased. I walked worlds of smoke, and half-truths, intangible. Worlds of torment and of unnameable beauty. Opaline towers as high as small moons. Glaciers that rippled with insensate lust. And one world with nothing but shrimp. I tired of that one quickly.