Reclaiming Our Imagination

“If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.” - Toni Morrison

Have we lost our ability to dream? Are we unable to even imagine the possibility of a different reality than the one we live in? The short answer is that our imagination might be under siege, but it is not dead. The systems we live in; capitalism, surveillance, policing, colonial legacies, they all shape how we think, how we dream and how we imagine. Capitalism tells us that creativity only matters if it can be sold, turning art and culture and even rest and joy into products with a price tag. Authoritarianism adds another layer of control with its surveillance and censorship, shrinking our space for radical dreaming. Schools, instead of encouraging curiosity, train children to follow orders. They reward conformity and punish the messiness that imagination thrives on. And the media narrows our horizons even further. Algorithms feed us what we already think, keeping us very, very busy but limiting what we might discover. 

The war on imagination is fought quietly.  Not with weapons, but with profit, fear, obedience and distraction. Quitly, but successfully. Like the philosopher Mark Fisher said: “It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.”  This ‘imagination crisis’  is not a failure of our intellect or our creativity, it’s an intended symptom of systemic design.

But every now and then we see a glimpse of radical imagination in action;

Mutual aid networks Reimagining care beyond the state

The Black Panther Party’s Free Breakfast Program which launched in Oakland in 1969  is one of the most influential examples of a successful mutual aid network. At its core, the initiative was designed to address food insecurity among children in disadvantaged communities, providing them with meals before school each day. What began as a local effort quickly expanded across the United States, feeding tens of thousands of children and demonstrating the power of grassroots organising. The program was run entirely by volunteers who prepared and served meals, often in churches or community centres, and it became a vital space for nourishment but also for solidarity and empowerment. It was so succesful that it pressured the federal government to expand its own school breakfast programs, showing how community-led mutual aid can both meet immediate needs and inspire systemic change.

Solidarity Economies Building systems of abundance

During the pandemic in London, grassroots networks popped up everywhere, ensuring that everyone including sanctuary seekers, the elderly and those isolating due to health challenges had access to the essentials, often coordinated through WhatsApp groups. These initiatives were built on principles of solidarity, not charity and emphasised collective responsibility and empowerment rather than harmful one sided giving.

Indigenous futurisms  Imagining worlds rooted in ancestral knowledge

Indigenous Futurisms is a creative movement across literature and art that blends science fiction with Indigenous knowledge systems and tradition. Grace Dillon’s Walking the Clouds showcases how Indigenous writers use speculative storytelling to challenge colonial narratives and imagine different realities. For example, stories in 'Walking the Clouds' explore themes like time travel, alternative histories and encounters with technology, but always through a lens that prioritises Indigenous cosmologies and community values. These stories not only reimagine the future but also serve as hopeful acts of decolonisation where people reclaim narratives and project Indigenous presence into tomorrow.

Afrofuturism  Blending science fiction, liberation and Black cultural memory.

Octavia Butler’s 1993 book Parable of the Sower is one of the most powerful examples of Afrofuturism in literature. Set in a near-future America ravaged by climate change, economic collapse and social unrest (Sounds familiar?) , the novel follows a young black woman with a heightened sensitivity to the pain of others. She develops a new belief system called Earthseed, which envisions humanity’s destiny as “to take root among the stars.” Octavia Butler's work blends fiction with themes of race, resilience, spirituality and liberation, imagining futures where marginalised voices not only survive but lead transformative change. Parable of the Sower has inspired activists, artists and scholars across the world and continues to be read as both a cautionary tale and a roadmap for our collective survival.

Climate justice movements Imagining economies of regeneration and abundance

In the Amazon, the Asháninka and other indigenous communities in Peru and Brazil are leading incredible Indigenous agroforestry initiatives. These projects focus on regenerating degraded land through traditional ecological knowledge combined with modern agroforestry techniques. Instead of monoculture farming, the Asháninka have developed community-led reforestation programs that integrate cacao, coffee and medicinal plants with native hardwoods. Bringing back balance to the land. This regenerates the forest while building local economies rooted in reciprocity. By selling fair-trade cacao and coffee, communities generate income as they maintain stewardship of their ancestral lands. These initiatives embody the principles of climate justice and regenerative economies: they resist extractive logging and agribusiness, they strengthen food sovereignty and they ensure that Indigenous voices lead the way in designing sustainable futures.

These are not just dreams, these are actual projects and systems that have been implemented successfully.  These examples say: The future doesn’t have to look like the past. It can be reimagined, and rather than serving the few, they serve the many with creativity, care and community at the center. 

Reclaiming our imagination begins with daring to dream differently, simple every day acts of resistance like asking “What if?” and “Why not?” as often as we can. Letting those questions open doors to new possibilities. We can create outside the marketplace, making art that doesn’t need to be sold and building spaces that don’t have to grow or scale. Things that simply exist for joy or connection. And these things hold value.

We can feed our minds with stories that stretch the boundaries of what is possible, turning to writers like Octavia Butler, Ursula K. Le Guin, Adrienne Maree Brown, and Silvia Federici, who remind us that the world can always be reimagined. And when we dream, we have to dream together and out loud, because imagination is strongest in community.

Most importantly, we have to challenge this myth that things must always be the way they are. Money, police, borders, these are just inventions, not inevitabilities that have always existed. And since they were created, they can be recreated. And in that truth lies the power to reclaim our imagination.

Imagination is political, it’s radical, it’s hopeful and it’s messy. When systems try to kill it, they try to kill the possibility of change. But every act of creativity, care and resistance is a refusal. You’re already open to the possibility of imagining a different reality by reading this, and that’s where transformation begins.

 “The place in which I’ll fit will not exist until I make it.” - James Baldwin