One of my favorite short stories is The Last Leaf by O. Henry. It’s a story of three artists: A mother and daughter and an old man who befriends them. The daughter, gravely ill with pneumonia, watches the leaves fall from a vine on the side of a building outside her window. She tells her mother that when the last leaf falls she will die. Her mother tells their friend, who comes to pose for her, about her daughter’s morbid imagination. That night a fierce autumn rain storm rages outside and the daughter is sure that the last leaf fell during the night, but, amazingly, when she looks out her window the next morning, it’s still clinging to the vine. She regains hope, forgets her death wish and starts thinking about an art project. When she eventually recovers, her mother tells her that the last leaf is actually a painting of a leaf that her artist friend painted the night of the storm.

This story impressed me with the power of imagination to heal or to harm. If the leaf had not been painted, the image of the last leaf falling to the ground and decaying would have sent the girl to an early grave. Children have very powerful imaginations. A friend of mine recently told me that her son used to be plagued by nightmares. She noticed that he loved to play video games like Dungeons & Dragons. No, she didn’t try to stop him from playing the games. She used the imagery from the games to prepare him for sleep. She handed him an imaginary helmet, armor, sword and shield and told him to put them on over his pajamas. He no longer was troubled with nightmares. The other day, my two daughters were playing in our living room when they started screaming. I ran into the living room to see what was the matter. They shouted a warning: "Watch out! The floor is molten lava!" They were jumping from the chairs to the coffee table to the sofa in order to get around.

Adults as well as children have powerful imaginations and most of the time we use them not in playing make-believe games but in creating our reality. We do this mainly with word pictures such as metaphors and similes. For example, take the similes: "he was as bold as brass and as cold as ice" and "she looked as pretty as a lily and was as proud as a peacock." Or how about the metaphors: "time is money" or "marriage is a field of battle and not a bed of roses."

These word pictures form our personal beliefs about ourselves, about others and about life in general. These beliefs, whether true or false, steer the ship of our life and shape the bust of our personality. Those are two more examples of metaphors. The subconscious is influenced by these beliefs even though in most cases they are not real. If a man calls his boss a slave-driver, his subconscious will believe it and turn him into a slave. If a woman calls herself "Supermom," her subconscious will believe it and enable her to raise a family, work a full-time job, and be involved in community affairs. The man’s boss isn’t really a slave driver, and the woman really doesn’t have super powers. These are just fantasies and figments of the imagination which create their personal myths. Carl Jung wrote that "One of the most important questions you can ask yourself is ‘What myth am I living?’"

Take, for example, my uncle Ovila. He was a young man with a wife and child to care for when the Great Depression hit. So, he developed an image of life as a struggle and that’s what it became, even after the depression, even after his children were grown up and moved away. I remember that every time he came to our home for a visit, he always greeted my mother in his native Canadian French, "Se la guerre!" - "It’s a war!." And he was always concerned about our welfare. When my mother would finish telling him about her troubles, he would shake his head and say, "Ah! Se la vie!" - "Ah! That’s life!" So to my uncle Ovila, life was a battle full of hardships and tragedies. And as he imagined it, so it outpictured. His life was filled with hardships and tragedies too numerous and heartbreaking to mention. But, like an old soldier, he’s still alive and healthy at 98. I suppose all the slings and arrows of adversity have made him tough and long-lived like an elephant, but they also made him thick-skinned.

I like to imagine how my uncle’s life would have been different if he had created a different personal myth. I can’t imagine him picturing life as an adventure or game after going through the Great Depression. But I can imagine him picturing life as a victorious battle. Just that one adjective could have made a huge difference. If he had greeted everyone with "Se la guerre victorieux" and listened to the stories of their successes, perhaps he would not have suffered so many tragedies and heartbreaks.

In the Ecstatic Living course I teach, I have students write their personal myth. They have to write about themselves and their lives in mythological terms. I give them a list of key characters such as a soldier, wizard, or artist, several key settings and important objects, and two dozen key themes such as life is a journey or love conquers all. For example, in my personal myth, I picture myself as a hunter and life as a search for knowledge.

Writing my personal myth helps me to see myself in a new light, and gives me the courage to continue with my plans and achieve my goals. Thus, instead of an average Joe trying to make a living, I become a treasure hunter like Indiana Jones or Aladdin. This not only increases my self esteem, but my appreciation for life as well. And I feel hopeful and encouraged to continue my search because the story has a happy ending. As Carl Jung noted, myths resonate with the deepest levels of our psyche, because they reflect the archetypal forces within us. As we learn to access these inner resources, we can develop, in the process, a greater understanding and sense of our oneness with other cultures and with the universe as a whole. So by picturing myself as a hunter, I access the hunter archetype within my unconscious and the collective unconscious. I become one with Aladdin. And what would be the magic lamp? Why my imagination of course. And the geni would be the genius of my subconscious mind fulfilling my wishes and helping me overcome the obstacles in my way.

We can use the power of imagination to not only change our personal myth, but that of others as well. So the next time a friend paints a gloomy picture, why not help her see things a little differently by adding a rosy hue. The positive mental image you paint for someone can change her personal myth and, in some cases, like the girl in the O. Henry story, can save a life.