The Bottom of the Ladder

I have previously written about the joys of climbing my rope ladder into my own land at the top of the Magic Faraway Tree. Or, for all those not so familiar with Enid Blyton, perhaps I don my fur coat and step through the wardrobe to gallivant with Aslan in Narnia.

My magic faraway tree?

Translation: it’s fun to let your mind run away from your real life circumstances to a much happier place. My anal tendencies regarding cleanliness and order have lead some to suggest that my happy place is the Ikea showroom. And whilst I cannot deny the joy of Daim Bars and Swedish meatballs, if I have to represent my happy place in retail form, I’d like to think it is Kikki K. Maintaining that Swedish sense of decorated order, but with polite thank you notes.

My representations of happy places have been previously documented. To recap: Fantasyland was Brooklyn, NY. I had issued a Visa to my special place to an equally special someone, and life was just grand.

Aaah Brooklyn.... Sausage King. What's not to love?

This little imaginary journey sustained me throughout 25 000 words of law essays and take home exams, and the accompanying music was the soundtrack to my semester. However it seems all good things must come to an end.

This particular fantasy was grounded in a small degree of reality. A few moments of flirtation and stolen glances as by chance we both frequented the same establishment one Saturday night. From this fleeting encounter I gave myself permission to dream.

And dream I did. However reality intervened. A meeting brought my fantasy companion into reality. And all was not as it seemed.

Not only was my imagination incorrect, it seemed this little journey could not longer be sustained.

What now? Where was I to venture when burdened with the stresses of work, university, writers’ block, insomnia and any other unpleasant aspect of life?

Do I find a new fantasy? Or should I do as Miss L advises, and maintain a catalogue of fantasy scenarios? When one fails, there are four others waiting to be resumed?

Had I put to much faith in one of the lands at the top of my ladder to the detriment of others? As the God of my own worlds, had I loved one too much, forcing the others to wither and suffer death from neglect?

Perhaps. Where to from here then? Do I recreate another land of imagination in the hope that it is better able to sustain me than my previous construction?

Or perhaps I should just remain firmly grounded in reality. At least then my imagination could not disappoint me.


And because this was such an unusually depressing post from me, here is some footage to make you smile





Happy times indeed.