Imagination is not something apart and hermetic, not a way of

“Imagination is not something apart and hermetic, not a way of leaving reality behind; it is a way of engaging reality.” Thus spoke Irving Howe, a thinker of rare depth, whose words shimmer with the wisdom of ages. To the careless ear, imagination seems a flight — an escape into dreams, a retreat from the hardness of life. But Howe reminds us of a greater truth: that imagination is not the enemy of reality, but its deepest ally. It is not a window to flee through, but a lens to see more clearly. When we dream with open eyes, we do not abandon the world — we awaken it.

From the beginning of time, humankind has sought to understand the nature of reality. The farmer reads the clouds, the poet reads the soul, the scientist reads the stars — each through the language of imagination. For it is not through logic alone that we grasp truth, but through vision. The ancients knew this well: they told their truths through myth, for myth is imagination made sacred. The fire Prometheus stole from heaven was not only flame, but the divine power to reimagine the world — to see beyond what is, toward what could be.

So when Howe speaks of imagination as a way of engaging reality, he calls us to a noble labor. To imagine rightly is to look upon the world’s brokenness and dream of healing it. It is to face despair and still picture hope. It is the work of prophets, artists, and builders alike — those who refuse to accept the world merely as it stands. The painter sees beauty where others see ruin; the reformer envisions justice where others see decay. Imagination does not turn away from pain — it walks into it, bearing light.

Think of Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years behind prison bars. He might have used his imagination to escape inwardly, to dwell in fantasy and forget the iron around him. But he did not. Instead, he used it to engage reality — to envision a future in which black and white could walk together as equals. His dream was not a mirage, but a blueprint for liberation. That is the imagination Howe spoke of: a flame that burns not to distract from darkness, but to dispel it.

This truth is ancient, yet ever new. Imagination is the mother of invention and the companion of compassion. The one who cannot imagine another’s suffering cannot heal it; the one who cannot imagine a better world cannot build it. Every act of progress — every bridge, every poem, every law of mercy — was born first as an image in the unseen realm of mind and heart. The imagination, when pure, does not lead us away from life’s struggles; it sends us back into them, armed with vision and purpose.

Beware, however, the false imagination, which seeks only escape. For there is a kind of dreaming that dulls rather than awakens — the hermetic sort Howe warns against. To live entirely in fantasy is to fall asleep amid the living. The wise use their imagination not as a hiding place, but as a forge. They shape within it the tools with which to carve reality anew. Thus, to imagine is an act of courage, not withdrawal — it is to stand before chaos and whisper, “I can make this beautiful.”

The lesson, dear soul, is this: do not flee the world through your imagination — transform it. When your days grow heavy, do not dream merely of escape, but of renewal. Let your imagination teach you to see the sacred in the ordinary, the possible in the impossible, the hope beneath despair. Fill your mind with images not of flight, but of creation — gardens where there were deserts, peace where there was violence, joy where there was silence.

For Irving Howe’s words remind us that to imagine is to participate in the divine act of creation itself. When you engage reality with vision and wonder, you become a co-author of existence. Therefore, dream boldly — but dream within the world, not beyond it. The true dreamer is not the one who flees the earth, but the one who, through the power of imagination, makes the earth anew.