A small child, happily playing by herself, inhabiting magical worlds only she can see, is mocked and jeered at for not having any “real” friends.
So she learns to leave those worlds for night time dreams and supresses them during the day, learning to smile and be friendly and sociable. Although for some reason she is always left on the fringes, despite her best efforts to “fit in.”
Only when she’s completely alone does she re-enter her other worlds: worlds of forests and mountains, of music and magic, of rivers that sing and trees that whisper secrets if only you can learn to listen.
Over several decades more and more layers of “reality” smother and drown the magic and the music. Walls of protection against ridicule and rejection bury her true self deeper and deeper. As she grows into a woman, she learns to become “practical” and “real” and almost forgets such worlds ever existed, except in the fleeting way one remembers a dream after waking.
It’s a painful process, stripping away the pretence. Aslan’s claws must dig deep to rip away the thick layers of lies. Long forgotten wounds bleed afresh when exposed to the air in order to be cleansed. Yet the truth must be unburied: the Truth that declares “I am unique.”
So the woman, accepting and embracing her uniqueness, learns to hear again the songs sung by wind and river and trees, the warm hum of soft earth, the deep bass of rock, the anthems of the mountains and the soaring soprano of the stars. She learns to find her own voice in the symphony of creation, and her own Heart Song wells up within her of love and worship.
Then she sees her own child playing, inhabiting magical worlds where playmates are unable to follow.
O, My daughter, Do not let the world rob you of the wonder of your own imagination. Do not smother your unique true self, nurture and embrace your creativity so when the time comes your inner light can shine forth unhindered.