The Quiet Magic of Imagination

Mary Poppins once said, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.”

For me, imagination is that sugar. It helps us get through when life feels difficult or heavy.

I first discovered the power of imagination during my master's studies. I was trying to read a complex, academic book and found it almost impossible to get through. It was heavy, difficult, and—if I’m honest—boring. I knew understanding the ideas would help develop my research, but each time I picked up the book, I felt weighed down.

One day, I had a strange thought: What if I just pretend to be someone who loves this kind of stuff?

So, before reading, I imagined myself as a brilliant academic, someone who was genuinely curious and excited to engage with the author’s ideas. And whenever I hit something I didn’t understand, there was no need to feel anxious. I simply trusted that, as this “clever” version of myself, I would eventually figure it out.

This little trick didn’t actually make me smarter. But it made me more confident and made the whole process more interesting. Without it, I honestly think I might have given up.

Later, as a counsellor, I found myself sometimes sharing this idea with my clients. Not everyone, of course, when someone is deeply depressed, even imagining can feel like too much. But for some people, imagination can be a surprisingly helpful way to soften the weight of tasks or situations they have to face.

For example, I once worked with someone who struggled deeply whenever she was alone. Being on her own brought her right back to the most painful, isolating time in her life. Even though her circumstances had changed, being alone still triggered those old feelings, and she felt like she was sinking into the same nightmare again.

Part of our work was gently exploring those experiences of isolation. But I also wanted to help her find small ways to break that pattern—to experience being alone differently. So we played with the idea of planning her alone time, giving it a theme.

If she needed to work, she imagined herself as a capable, focused professional.

If she wanted to rest, she pictured herself relaxing on a peaceful beach.

Imagination didn’t erase the past, but it helped her connect to new feelings in the present.

We can use imagination in so many ways—before a job interview, a difficult conversation, or even just to bring a bit more lightness into daily life. And sometimes, imagination needs a little support to feel real. That’s where small rituals can help.

A ritual can gently guide you into the mindset you want to create. You might choose music that fits the scene you’re imagining, wear clothes or jewellery that match the role you’re stepping into, light a candle, or make a special cup of tea. There’s no single way to do it. I often encourage my clients to experiment and find what feels playful and helpful to them.

I believe imagination not only helps us feel more confident in challenging situations. It also invites us to be more playful with life—and in that playfulness, we often find a quiet sense of hope.

Hope that life’s challenges are not quite as impossible as they seem.

Hope that hard times will eventually pass.

Hope that, even when things are difficult, we still have some small and gentle ways to care for ourselves.

And maybe that’s enough.