Sitting on bench in the town square I noticed a young man opposite staring at his feet. After a few minutes he looked up with sad vacant eyes, eyes that looked empty as though he might be blind. For a short while we held each other’s gaze then like titans in a gladiatorial ring we unlocked. You might have already thought drugs, alcohol or mental health – but no. Later I came to know the young man and to work with him. I came to discover he suffered from a low horizon or undernourished imagination. This in turn weakened his ability to value himself.
Personal value has been badly portrayed in our modern parlance. Over the years as I looked into the faces of men and women like that young man I saw an inability to believe they could amount to what they saw as a person of worth. That idea of worth was always financial or fame. I learned to walk with people living out life with little perceived prospects and therefore value as measured by society. Like millions of people that young man’s sadness found its home in his undernourished imagination which in turn drove him to the edge of the community. For many, the well of images we all store which helps us see our lives in a better place has run dry. Our horizon draws closer and we see nothing ahead to change things.
We could blame all kinds of situations and circumstances, parents or teachers even the government. Whilst in my early teens and struggling to read I remember a teacher calmly telling me that I needed to master the art of reading books for entertainment. What he actually said was, ‘When you’re in prison Wykes what will you do in the cell with no TV if you can’t read?’ Now I can’t say that was encouragement or inspiration! Like the young man on the bench in town, I too have known a low horizon and interestingly it was reading that changed things for me. In reading I discovered other narratives in life I had not encountered for real. I met people who overcame greater hurdles than I had yet encountered. Most importantly I discovered that the value of my life is not hid in the things society expects of me but the reality of my uniqueness and individuality. My teacher was actually correct in thinking reading can take us out of our cell and broaden our horizon. It can nourish our imagination.
Over the years as I walked alongside people on the margins I heard them describe the smallness of their world. Their horizon was too close and it barely reached the door of a little apartment or bedroom. As I probed I understood that all the well-meaning initiatives society brought to these adults were only a small part of the puzzle. As human beings we need to see beyond our sight or feelings not simply to find our place in the constructed world we occupy. Our gain comes not only from jobs, skills and possessions. We are more than our status and accumulated wealth. Some of the happiest people I have met use the smallest spaces, eat the least amount of food and find the greatest adventure under the cover of a book. In filling our minds with words and narrative we build a vocabulary of thought and enter the realms of possibility, dreams, inventions and ultimately become better equipped to write our own story.
The first book I ever read was Stig of the Dump by Clive King. The first line demanded I continue – ‘If you went too near the edge of the chalk pit the ground would give way.’ This was no warning it was an invitation.
The book I have read the most is probably the Bible. Notice I said read and not understood the most. The first line of the first book broadened my horizon – ‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.’ How did that happen then? So off you go into science, astronomy, biology, geography and every other ology. One of the Psalms captures this translation from under to well-nourished imagination and speaks of when the words we read become the inspiration to where we walk and what we do. ‘Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.’ Psalm 119:105
Rob Wykes 