As I write this post, I find echos of my childhood wafting through my mind...
Strange! I always thought that I was a religious child; but I now think I was really very superstitious. I remember going to sleep with my right hand on my soul (a little over my stomach) like a lucky charm to keep the devil from stealing my soul when I was asleep.
I remember signing myself with the cross (several times) before writing an answer paper just so to be sure that I had done it the 'right way'. My belief was that God would not be appeased to help me out if I didn't 'salute' him rightly...
I remember searching for crosses or names of saints in the vaguest of places, situation...clouds, scenery, cutlery, wall graffiti, as a good-luck portent that my quest will be blessed because I found the hidden sigma.
I have now come to see that these were fallacies of an over-active imagination and a deep anxiety complex of an inherently insecure child. I read another blogger describing the same symptoms and she says that they were her meager attempts to seek control over an uncontrollable world. This rang true with me.
The times when I found myself in a spot or disciplined, I immediately retreated into my make-believe world of perfection. Some would say, it's a beautiful talent to bring worlds and realities into existence. But there is something disoriented about a make-believe world which seems more real that than reality. This is no a la Calvin's Spaceman Spiff. There were days when I was in a haze, just sleepwalking through the day. The absent-present girl!
Strange! I always thought that I was a religious child; but I now think I was really very superstitious. I remember going to sleep with my right hand on my soul (a little over my stomach) like a lucky charm to keep the devil from stealing my soul when I was asleep.
I remember signing myself with the cross (several times) before writing an answer paper just so to be sure that I had done it the 'right way'. My belief was that God would not be appeased to help me out if I didn't 'salute' him rightly...
I remember searching for crosses or names of saints in the vaguest of places, situation...clouds, scenery, cutlery, wall graffiti, as a good-luck portent that my quest will be blessed because I found the hidden sigma.
I have now come to see that these were fallacies of an over-active imagination and a deep anxiety complex of an inherently insecure child. I read another blogger describing the same symptoms and she says that they were her meager attempts to seek control over an uncontrollable world. This rang true with me.
The times when I found myself in a spot or disciplined, I immediately retreated into my make-believe world of perfection. Some would say, it's a beautiful talent to bring worlds and realities into existence. But there is something disoriented about a make-believe world which seems more real that than reality. This is no a la Calvin's Spaceman Spiff. There were days when I was in a haze, just sleepwalking through the day. The absent-present girl!
As Coraline finds out, a fantasy world is not all it's supposed to be...
