My imagination is my polestar; I steer by that.

“My imagination is my polestar; I steer by that,” declared Clive Barker, the visionary author, artist, and storyteller whose creations have danced between horror and wonder, between the shadow and the divine. In these words, he reveals not merely a method of creation, but a philosophy of existence — that the imagination is not a pastime or an ornament, but a guiding star, a polestar by which the soul charts its course through the vast and uncertain sea of life. Just as sailors once looked to the North Star to find direction amidst storm and darkness, Barker confesses that it is his imagination — that luminous inner compass — which keeps him true, even when the world grows dim.

The polestar, that steadfast point in the heavens, has long been the symbol of constancy and guidance. Mariners of old crossed uncharted oceans by its light, trusting in its unchanging position when all else shifted around them. So too, Barker suggests, must each person find their own inner star — that principle, that vision, that burning imagination which gives purpose to wandering and shape to uncertainty. For in a world where paths are many and certainties few, the only true navigation comes from within. The imagination becomes the eternal flame — not a fantasy to escape the world, but a beacon to illuminate it.

Barker’s own life bears witness to this truth. From his earliest days, he was drawn not to the ordinary, but to the extraordinary — to worlds unseen, to creatures born of dream and darkness. He dared to trust his inner imagination even when it led him along paths few others understood. Many dismissed his art as strange or unsettling; yet he pressed on, guided by his polestar. His stories, from Hellraiser to Imajica, transcend mere horror or fantasy; they are meditations on the human spirit — its capacity for creation, transformation, and redemption. Through his imagination, Barker did not flee reality; he expanded it, showing that the line between the real and the fantastic is not a wall, but a mirror.

History, too, honors those who have steered by the light of imagination when all other stars had dimmed. Consider Christopher Columbus, who set sail not because he saw land, but because he imagined it. Or Galileo, who dared to see a universe larger than dogma allowed, steering his mind by reason and vision rather than fear. And consider Leonardo da Vinci, whose imagination was his lifelong compass — a polestar that guided him through art, science, and invention alike. Each of these souls, like Barker, trusted that what they imagined was as real as what they could see, and in so doing, they brought new worlds into being.

To say “my imagination is my polestar” is also to declare independence from the expectations of others. The one who steers by their own star must often sail against the wind, misunderstood and alone. Yet this is the path of the creator, the philosopher, the dreamer. The crowd steers by the lights of the harbor — by convention, comfort, and imitation. But the visionary lifts their gaze higher, toward the unchanging light that others cannot see. It is a lonely journey at times, yet it is the only one that leads to discovery. For as long as the imagination remains your guide, you will never be truly lost, even when you wander.

There is a spiritual power in this truth. The imagination, when properly understood, is not illusion — it is intuition, revelation, the mind’s conversation with eternity. To steer by it is to live not as a passive spectator of the world, but as a participant in its unfolding. The universe itself was born of an act of divine imagination — “Let there be light,” said the Creator, and there was light. So too does every human creation, every act of courage or art, begin with that same command whispered from within: Let it be. When Barker calls his imagination his polestar, he joins a lineage of souls who have lived as co-creators with the cosmos, shaping meaning out of mystery.

Thus, the lesson is clear: find your own polestar, and trust it. The world will offer you maps, opinions, and directions, but none will guide you as surely as the light that burns within. Cultivate your imagination — feed it with stories, silence, and wonder. Listen to its urgings, for it knows what reason cannot see. Let it lead you into the uncharted, for there, your true self awaits. When the storms of life rise, lift your eyes to that inner light and steer by it. For though seas may change and skies may darken, the imagination, once claimed as your compass, will never lead you astray.

And remember, as Clive Barker reminds us, that to steer by your imagination is to live as the ancients did — with courage, with mystery, and with faith in the unseen. Let your imagination be your polestar, and you will not merely drift through the world; you will shape it. You will find not only direction, but destiny.