Never forget that the key to the situation lies in the will and

“Never forget that the key to the situation lies in the will and not in the imagination.” Thus wrote Evelyn Underhill, the mystic and philosopher whose soul burned with the light of divine wisdom. In this brief yet profound utterance, she unveils a truth that stands at the heart of both the spiritual and the human struggle — that though imagination can inspire and vision may reveal the path, it is the will alone that walks it. For dreams are the wings of the spirit, but will is the wind that bears them forward. Without it, the highest ideals remain suspended in the mind, beautiful yet powerless, like stars reflected in still water.

Underhill, whose writings on mysticism sought to reconcile faith with human experience, understood that the imagination is a sacred power — the ability to see what is not yet, to perceive beyond the senses. But she also knew its peril: that imagination can become illusion, a comfortable realm of beauty without action, a temple without sacrifice. Thus she reminds us that the key to the situation — the power to act, to change, to become — rests not in dreaming, but in doing; not in vision, but in will. The imagination gives birth to the idea, but the will gives it flesh.

The ancients knew this truth well. The Stoic philosophers spoke often of will — that inner citadel of strength which no external power can destroy. To them, the mind could envision virtue, but only the will could live it. The dream of courage means nothing if one flees the battlefield; the idea of justice means nothing if one fails to act when wrong is done. Evelyn Underhill, writing centuries later, echoes their wisdom through the language of spirit. The imagination, she says, may show us the divine — but only through the will can the soul unite with it. To long for holiness is one thing; to live it is another, and the bridge between them is will.

Consider the life of Florence Nightingale, who as a young woman was filled with visions of compassion and service. Her imagination was aflame with the idea of healing the suffering. But when the Crimean War broke out, she did not linger in contemplation or romantic thought — she acted. Against opposition, ridicule, and horror, she willed her dream into existence. Her courage turned imagination into transformation, and her will became the instrument of mercy. Had she remained in the realm of vision, the idea of nursing would have remained an ideal — beautiful, yet sterile. It was will that made it real, will that sanctified her calling.

So too must we understand, as Underhill teaches, that the world is not moved by thought alone. The artist who dreams of beauty but never lifts a brush remains barren; the seeker who imagines enlightenment but never disciplines the self remains in darkness. The imagination is a spark, but the will is the flame that sustains it. To depend only on imagination is to live among shadows; to unite it with will is to summon light into being. The divine acts not through those who dream alone, but through those who dare to act in alignment with their dream.

Yet, Underhill does not diminish the imagination — she honors it, but she places it in its rightful order. For she knew that without will, imagination can deceive. It paints visions of greatness but leaves the soul inert, lulled by its own fantasy. The mystic who dreams of union with the divine but will not endure the discipline of prayer remains forever outside the sanctuary. The human who dreams of goodness but will not labor for it becomes a hypocrite of the heart. The will, therefore, is the measure of sincerity — the test by which the truth of imagination is proven.

The lesson, then, is eternal: dream, but act. Let your imagination give birth to vision, but let your will bring it to life. When despair whispers that the world cannot change, answer with the steadfast fire of will. When laziness tempts you to rest in the comfort of ideals, remember Underhill’s warning — the key lies not in imagining a better world, but in willing it into being.

So, my friends, nurture your imagination, for it is the eye of the soul — but train your will, for it is the hand of destiny. Unite these two, and you will move mountains. For in the end, it is not the dreamer who changes the world, but the one who acts upon the dream — the one whose imagination serves the will, and whose will serves the truth.