When a person imagines things, he or she is one of the images in a universal field of images that makes it obvious that we are in the reality of the imaginary world, rather than that the spontaneous activity of this field is something that is contained within the individual. We are made up of images from that source as of a reference to our existence. It is almost too obvious. The notion of who we are is right there. Our presence in the imaginal field is an aspect of our perception as a sensing organism that holds everything that exist in a symbiotic connection to the world.
The reality of this field of imagination lies within its reciprocity with the tangible. With the space-time continuum of matter in physics, giving its instructions as information in the sense of how our perceptions interacts with the vibrational occurrences of its precence. Which is our emotional reaction to the sound of the imaginal. Often it feels like I’m just taking dictation from it when it has something to explain to me, and it does not let go of me until it has forced me to formulate what it had to say. But that is my relation to imagination, and to the ability to enter into it and to understand the connections that exist within its realm of our reality in time.