Unconventional Spiritual Practice: Imagination
I finally went.
I visited the National Museum of African American History & Culture in Washington DC last Sunday morning. We skipped our regular church service and caught a train with my family and brother to meet my sister-in-law who was leading a band trip there. So I can’t claim that it was my idea.
We had missed church service the weekend before, and my inner church girl who owned several Sunday school perfect attendance airbrushed tee shirts was fighting me about missing church again.
Little did I know how much that visit would be a Divine encounter in and of itself.
We didn’t take the suggested route through the museum since we were trying to meet my sister-in-law, which ended up being a gift to me. We started on the higher floors that display celebrations of Black culture, creativity, music, athleticism, and Afrofuturism.
The beauty, dreaming, creativity, and resilience struck me right away, and I spent the rest of my time through the museum holding the idea of imagination as an act of resistance, hope, and spirituality.
As we descended to the lower floors of the museum where you come face-to-face with the atrocities of Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and chattel slavery I was met with grief, lament, despair, AND holy imagination.
Again and again, the horrors of dehumanization, greed, and harsh environments were shown next to stories of imagination that bred resilience, resistance, and eventually freedom.
As we moved up the lower concourse we saw how racism and slavery shifted through reconstruction and the civil rights movement. Each shift spurred further calls for equality and freedom all borne from the bravery of those who dared to imagine a just future even if they never got to see it themselves.
Songs, art, fashion, scientific advancement, innovation, silent protests, and non-violent resistance - all brought to reality by those daring to practice an art we often lose in childhood - imagination.
Last Sunday, I learned what the practice of holy imagination looks like and how it can reshape the world thanks to this honest and honoring telling of Black History in America. Understanding the strength, wisdom, and determination it must have taken to continue to imagine a better future in seemingly hopeless circumstances is a lesson and inspiration that will stick with me forever.
Much of the news cycle lately has given me feelings of helplessness and hopelessness. The large-scale atrocities happening across the globe make me feel like my impact, work, and voice are pointless. There have been full days where that despair keeps me stuck and wondering if the work I am doing – and am trying to do – even deserves the effort.
And then as I walked through this museum, I saw so many stories of resilience and imagination slowly overcoming what had to feel like the most impossible situation at the time. True change begins in holy imagination.
Here’s the other truth I’m carrying forward from my visit to DC this weekend: fear kills imagination.
Alongside the stories of hope and imagination were stories of gatekeepers, status quo preachers, and violent retaliation against progress. Though some could see the abundance of all men and women free and equal, others couldn’t see beyond their fear of losing power. And fear drives violent action, bitterness, and division.
Walking through the National Museum of African American History and Culture last weekend stirred up a hope within me that I haven’t felt in a while. It’s got me wondering and reflecting again.
• • •
In many ways, I’m afraid of dreaming. I know when I start to imagine again, I might never be the same and my life may change. And truthfully, I’m comfortable and coasting right now. Lately, I’ve found myself resisting reflection, resisting reading, resisting all long-form content, and resisting little healthy routines that clear my brain to dream. Why? Because I’m afraid none of it will matter, so why shake things up?
When I saw the stories of fear and imagination juxtaposed, I was convicted. Fear and status quo aren’t worth it, and they aren’t good for anyone.
So how am I working to combat fear and start moving toward imagination again?
This week I’m simply paying attention to the small glimmers of imagination around me. Here’s an example:
We live in an older neighborhood full of colonial and split-level houses with no HOA to tell us what we can or cannot do on our own properties. This means my neighborhood is a bit of a dream to the free-spirits and enneagram 4s in the world. Every yard and home are different and hold their own character. Some homes, gardens, and yards are tenderly cared for, you can see hours of work growing in the beds and steady home improvements. Others are overgrown, weedy, and rocking old paint. You can see the resilient weeds growing up through big hedges claiming their sunlight however they can. And then there are folks like me, the ones who want a little beauty and have little time or money to put toward that dream. Tiny plants awkwardly plopped wherever a dirt patch already existed burst into colorful blooms reminding the homeowners that they too can cultivate beauty with limited resources. Or in our case, simply growing new grass in the spaces that were excavated to replace the plumbing that made our toilets gurgle.
Every new mailbox, painted shutter, expanded porch, new tree, and raised garden box I walk past in my neighborhood shows me the beauty of imagination at work. Each of these projects started as something else, and then someone imagined the potential ahead and got to work bringing it into reality. Tirelessly we chip away at realities that fall short and we usher in the hope of something new, better, and more beautiful. Are these yards changing the world? Nope. But they are practicing imagination in a small way, whether they know it or not. What if my imagination can start small and at home too?
I’m now staring down summertime with kids at home, a long month of travel we still need to plan, and routines gone away, and I’m hoping I don’t let myself stay stuck in fear. I’ve already started trying to imagine ways to grab back onto my healthy practices when the creature comforts I enjoy daily like my chaise lounge, weighted blanket, and walking route are out of reach. My compulsion is to throw the baby out with the bathwater of summer and wallow in my stuckness for a while, but today at least I’m going to imagine a different way.
Baby steps of imagination, improvement, redemption, and peace will lead to action and change - I’m sure of it because there’s a whole museum in Washington DC proving this to be true. My ability to imagine and act may feel small for now, but it can grow.
What if we were all brave enough to dream? What if we could slow down enough to imagine?
We humans hold the potential to shape our environment however we please. We can drop bombs that flatten and desolate, or we can till ground that will produce nourishment and generosity beyond what we thought possible. Do we have the courage to close our eyes and picture the beauty that could be? Are we strong enough to create space for Hope and let her gentle arms wrap us up as we march toward what could be?
Let’s start taking small steps forward together. Let’s be people who cultivate a holy imagination and believe that we can see a bit of redemption and heaven here on this planet. Who is with me?
If you are a person who intentionally dreams and imagines, what are your regular routines or practices that cultivate your imagination? Leave a comment below so we can all learn together.
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