I am beginning to think that I have some camaraderie with Winnie the Pooh. Some Pooh-isms just seem to flow out of my memory bank, somewhere tucked away for just the right perspective on life.
Like: I’m a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words bother me.
Or: You can’t help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right, but spelling isn’t everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn’t count.
Perhaps too much thinking can get in the way of creativity when it comes to writing and spelling?.
And the way Pooh Bear spells, why it’s so unlike the way I was raised to spell.
Every word, precise, used in the ‘right way’…Oh the thinks I ponder and the spellings I spell when I try this hand at writing, at being creative.
After all, what does it matter to me or my readers if I spell honey, ‘hunny’. To my rather rigid mind, it does bother me, but to my creative imagination, it looks and feels quite nice to write ‘hunny’ for I feel a bit more giddy and less thinking about the thinks I am pondering.
Yep, a bit more Pooh Bear in me should help unleash that creative imagination which I know is deep down there somewhere.
Through my years of aging, becoming wise and protective in my thoughts and my speech, choosing my words with more restraint sometimes than with wisdom, I have inadvertently placed boundaries around this thing called imagination.
The very thing I have been asking God to expand in me, I have been protectively building walls up around it.
My imagination that is. The ability to creatively think outside the box.
Oh it sounds soooo fun to be able to write and think that way. Yes, that’s what I desire. But and there is a big but in the sentence, I am afraid to let God have the boundaries, the parameters that I’ve set around my imagination.
Pooh was cool about who he was.
Pooh Bear wasn’t befuddled by too much jargon. He was simple.
And creative in his approach to life in the woods.
He would scratch his head a lot and think aloud. Yes, aloud! Whether there was an audience of one, two or none. Didn’t matter.
He hemmed and hawed and hummed and hmmmed his way through the hundred acre wood. Pondering and imagining all sorts of adventures.
His imagination oft times led him into trumped up troubles and worries that were quickly dispelled by the appearance of Christopher Robin on the scene. With his ‘silly old bear’ Christopher Robin would try to remedy the situation.
Now I am not really comparing my brain to a bear, especially an imagined bear but I do love the character that AA Milne let us in on, which was a big part of his own imagination.
Perhaps a sprinkle of carefree and somewhat crazy but loveable thoughts that are ‘thinked’ out loud, can set this old imagination free.
Pooh says: Poetry and Hums aren’t things which you get, they’re things which get you. And all you can do is go where they can find you.