I want to spend the day reading Plato on laws or Hume on religion. Along with my writing, I consider reading philosophy central to the day. However, today, I will not do much writing or reading. Without those, what will I imagine, or rather how will I imagine?
Maybe, in those moments when I can concentrate, I will imagine a different life. The new life will contain plenty of writing and reading, but I might add love to it. Instead of love, I could add bowling or hiking in the mountains. My imagination already runs wild, but not as wild as when I write or read philosophy.
These late spring and early summer days strewn by the sun are best. The days of light and warmth pass all too quickly. Once they pass, the long descent into the dark days stifles the imagination and creativity. Nothing should interrupt these long light besotted days if possible.
We are not rational animals; we are imaginative and creative animals. That is what distinguishes us most from other species. The world forces itself upon us. After that, we make of it what we will, and we will make something new of it regardless of whether that is our desire or intention.
Now, where did I put the bowling ball, and where in the world do I want to roll it besides inside my head? Maybe, I can find a lover to go bowling with me.