Our imaginations have the power to create anything we like. We can invent magical things or experiences that we dream will come true. We can conceive explanations where none are forthcoming and in that way make life exciting and mysterious. We can dream big and in doing so give purpose to our lives. We can also devise our own personal hells by believing the worst possibilities. Either way, it’s our imaginations deciding which type of magic to create, and it’s our imaginations setting the tone of that magic.
For this reason, I like to hold some things back from my children. I’m happy for them to dream and wonder about some things, and not know the clinical truth, because believing that ‘anything is possible’ sets you free. So I’m happy for them to imagine what might exist and why.
Once, a mother criticised me for not telling my children the exact process by which babies are made. But my kids were six and eight at the time, so why did they need to know what part of the body goes where and how? I don’t lie to my children. If they ask me a direct question, like most parents I hope, I do one of four things: (1) tell them the absolute truth, (2) ask them a question back, (3) say I’ll explain when they’re older, or (4) all of the above. For instance:
Absolute Truth
Brandan: “Mummy, what do they mean I need an operation?”
Me: “They mean you need to go to sleep in a room like a kitchen filled with televisions and bright lights, surrounded by people in white coats, net hats and masks over their mouths and noses. You’ll breath in a special air through a tube and feel a bit sick and dizzy when you wake up. But it’s all just to make you better.”
Brandan: “Will you be there?”
Me: “I’ll be there as you fall asleep, and when you wake up I’ll be right outside the recovery room, waiting to be let in. But they won’t let me in until they’re sure you’re okay. Okay?”
Brandan: “Aha.”
I’ll Tell You Later
Ophelia: “Mummy, how will that lady’s baby get out of her stomach?”
Me: “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Ophelia: “Is it through her bellybutton?”
Me: “No, some other way. It’s really quite amazing. How about I tell you when you’re twelve?”
Ophelia: “Ten.”
Me: “Eleven.”
Ophelia: “Okay.”
Ask A Question Back
Brandan: “Mummy, do you believe in Santa / the Easter Bunny / Tooth Fairy?”
Me: “Well, how else would the presents get here / would the eggs get in the garden / who else would take your tooth? Do you believe in Santa / the Easter Bunny / Tooth Fairy?”
Brandan: “Yeah.”
Me: “There you go then.”
All Three Options
Ophelia: “Mummy, what happens when people die?”
Me: “There are a few different theories. Some people believe nothing happens, others believe we turn into animals or babies again, others believe we go to heaven or hell. What do you think?”
Ophelia: “Um, I’m not sure.”
Me: “Well, we can talk about it more as you get older and learn more about everything.”
In this way, I get to protect their imaginations and the possibility that magic exists… because for me it does. We create our own magic in life, and of course I use the magic of my imagination every day in my stories. Without it, how could I write… how could anyone write books / create movies / sing songs? The creative arts is an awesome industry to work in, and can be a lucrative career choice. My brother and I both earn a living from our imaginations, so why would I want to squash the imaginations of my children with too much reality?
Of course I also value the frank and honest relationship I have with my children. They trust what I say 100% and I respect that, hence the absolute truth I do give them sometimes – be it about religion, evolution, poor countries and the children who live in them, war and violence, heartbreak, or old age. Children are impressionable and easily believe those they trust. The danger of disrespecting their trust is that when they discover the truth, they blame those they trusted for the deception. I don’t want that to happen to me so this morning, despite wanting to keep the magic alive, I had to tell my daughter the truth about Spanish trees…
My husband had been walking around the house singing the 90s classic “We’re Going to Ibiza” by the Vengaboys, and he let the kids watch the song’s music video, explaining that Ibiza was a party island for adults off the coast of Spain:
Fast forward the clip to between 3.10 and 3.17 minutes… at this point in the video, Ophelia asked if the island really existed:
“Yes,” I said. “It’s in the Mediterranean.”
“But the trees don’t dance?”
“No.” Hubbie and I exchanged amused glances. “The trees don’t dance.”
“And the umbrellas don’t dance?”
“No, the umbrellas don’t dance, just the people.”
Hubbie and I found it cute at the time – that she even asked the question. But afterwards I was simply happy that her imagination was still well and truly intact.
If I had told her that yes, the trees and umbrellas dance, I’m certain she would have believed me – because Mummy always tells the truth. But it was enough for me that she’d asked her question – it was proof she still believes that anything is possible, and that’s a belief I want her to have now and for always.
Believe in magic, for it can set you free…
