It is above all by the imagination that we achieve perception and

The words of Ursula K. Le Guin, “It is above all by the imagination that we achieve perception and compassion and hope,” are like a torch held aloft in an age grown weary of wonder. Le Guin, the great weaver of worlds and poet of human truth, reminds us that imagination is not a toy for dreamers, but the sacred instrument by which humanity understands itself. In this single sentence, she teaches what sages have long known — that the heart cannot feel what the mind cannot imagine, and that without imagination, we become blind to both beauty and suffering.

To the ancients, imagination was the bridge between the mortal and the divine. It was the faculty through which the human soul glimpsed higher truth. Le Guin’s words follow this lineage. In her stories, she showed that to imagine another world — with its own struggles, hopes, and loves — is to awaken the capacity for empathy. By imagining the lives of others, we perceive them more deeply; by perceiving them, we learn compassion; and by compassion, we kindle hope — the belief that what is broken can be healed, that what is divided can be united. Thus, imagination is not escape from reality but the very means by which we transform it.

Le Guin’s own life was a testament to this truth. She lived not as one lost in fantasy, but as one who used story to reveal the inner structure of human truth. In her novel The Dispossessed, she imagined two worlds — one rich, one poor, one free, one bound — and through that vision, she forced her readers to confront their own societies. It was through imagination that she achieved clarity of perception — seeing the moral landscape of her time as plainly as the mountains on the horizon. She did what every philosopher and poet has sought to do: awaken others to the invisible forces that shape their lives.

Consider the example of Harriet Beecher Stowe, whose book Uncle Tom’s Cabin helped ignite the conscience of a nation. Stowe did not wield armies or sit in councils of power; her weapon was imagination. By giving life to the enslaved through story, she allowed millions to perceive their humanity. And through perception came compassion, and through compassion, hope — the belief that slavery could end. What logic or argument could not move, imagination accomplished. Thus, Le Guin’s words find proof not only in myth but in history itself.

The ancients would have said that imagination is the soul’s eye. Without it, perception is shallow and incomplete; with it, the heart becomes capable of seeing beyond appearances. A man who cannot imagine the pain of another becomes cruel; a society that cannot imagine a better world becomes stagnant. Le Guin’s teaching is therefore both gentle and revolutionary: that imagination is not mere fancy, but the source of moral vision. It is how we learn to feel before we act, to understand before we judge, to envision before we build.

It is also through imagination that we resist despair. When all seems lost, when reason falters and fear prevails, the mind’s inner fire — the capacity to imagine something better — keeps us alive. Hope itself is an act of imagination. The prisoner who dreams of freedom, the scientist who envisions a cure, the child who pictures a brighter world — all of them wield the same power that Le Guin praises. To imagine is to believe that the unseen can become real.

So, my listener, let this teaching take root in your heart: guard your imagination as you would your soul. Feed it not with noise or vanity, but with wonder, beauty, and compassion. Read deeply, listen to stories, and look upon others as if they contain entire worlds within them — for they do. Imagine what they feel, what they fear, what they love. In doing so, you will grow in perception, in compassion, and in hope — the three pillars that sustain all human dignity.

For as Le Guin teaches, imagination is the light by which we see one another clearly. It is the first spark of kindness, the first breath of creation, the first whisper of peace. Without it, we wander blind through the world; with it, we become co-creators of a more merciful one. Nurture that divine gift — and through it, you will help keep the flame of humanity alive.