Fantasy Saves the Day.

So, after two weeks of holiday, I’m reluctant to go back to work. And it troubles me because I really like my job as much as one can like a job. It took me sometime, but now I figured what is it that I hate so much about going back to a schedule: routine kills the fantasy of life. There’s so little to discover and so little to feel amazed by in a stack of papers to file, in a succession of calls to make, e-mails to write, problems to solve, in a shift that promises to take 8 hours of your day and ends up taking nine, ten…

While on holidays, I felt so certain I could even give tips on how to break the routine, but today the routine wore me off. Isaac 0, Reality 1. Not for that, I’ve given up on trying to incorporate fantasy in my tasks through the day. Generally, just to remain sane, I don’t cross the street but play Frogger real life size instead. I make up a random mission that justifies the need to go the office:

“The office is haunted and no one will be able to work if I don’t go and cast a protective spell.”

“I’m going to be an undercover boss today, and I’ll see if they notice. Whoever does, gets chocolate ”

“I work for an office that keeps the flowing of good energy between realms and dimensions. It is my mission to maintain the balance between worlds and make sure no bad flow of energy reaches the world’s portals” (uh?)

The antidote to monotony I use in my working space is origami figures other people have made (they store the memory of the person’s face making it in front of my desk and I can access that happy moment by looking at the finalized piece.) My note holder is a panda that allows me to play with it a little if the day is becoming too hard to bear.

And then when the night falls, I’m all kind of characters from a DJ in a club to the crafter of the world that only lives inside my head. I think that if I keep going like this, it will be very unlikely that I snap under stress and maybe the weekend, when fantasy reigns, might not be so far away after all.

One moment of fantasy you didn’t lose when you grew up.

The Rise of the Guardians, the last kid movie by Dreamworks, awoke my inner kid so badly that I wasn’t even trying to hide I had a regression. I ran to the cinema again and by myself to watch the movie for a second time. I ran to Mcdonalds  and ask the woman at the desk, so proudly she would have been able to give me the “you’re a gown up adult” look, ”I want a happy meal”. I got Sandman, hands down my favorite because he makes dreams and how cool is that!!! Anyway, I found incredibly profound that each guardian had a core. All of the cores together formed the essence of what being a child is all about: discovery and awe, fun, dreams and hope.  I don’t want to lose any of that, and now that I’m aware of how we lose all that with the years, chances are I remain acting a bit as a child for the rest of my life just to keep the magic going.

That’s because you are crazy, Isaac. Uhum,right, I forgot the rest of the humanity does not use their imagination.

Right, call me crazy for living in an alternative reality, but truth is you haven’t lost those fantastic moments and you have even incorporated them to your routine. Most people sing or at least have sung in the shower. The numbers of bath sponges that have served as imaginary microphones exceeds my counting capacity. I have heard people singing so passionately in the shower I dare to assert they are living a concert in their heads. They are even in the concert or giving the concert, surrounded by jumping people and laser lights if not a super complex stage and a roaring crowd at their feet. It might be an adult dream, but it is fantasizing nonetheless. For a few minutes, you’re in a musical, or you’re covering an artist, collaborating with them in a single, hearing the crowd singing your own song as you extend the mic over them while you listen, recline your back, nod,and smile because the fuckers know the song by heart!!!!

So, I’ve asked a few people if they sing in the shower, even knowing that some of them have zero talent, and most have acknowledged doing it. If I had a penny for every person I’ve heard singing in the shower…“It just comes out and you can’t avoid it!” Ha! Clear evidence of fantasy.

Those who remain silent in the shower might be hiding something worse: in their fantasies, they become water creatures, or ninjas who need to avoid needles, or explorers jumping in a waterfall. “Just a shower” Uh? No way.

Fantasy keeps the inner child alive because it in itself is composed by awe, hopes, dreams, and fun. You try to find any of those in your enviroment, you fantasize. I guess getting rid of good old fantasy ain`t that easy after all.

And just because I feel like it, here is a picture of Sandman having fun.