Unprogramming the mind: Reclaiming imagination from systems that named you

Photo by Getty Images on Unsplash

Imagination is the first place we learn who we are before anyone tells us who to be. As children, we live inside images, stories, and sensations that feel limitless; the world is not yet divided into boxes with labels. Over time, that inward, self-generated reality gets slowly replaced by outward systems - school, religion, media, family expectations - that tell us what is “real,” what is “right,” and who we supposedly are.

How we get programmed out of imagination

From an early age, we’re handed scripts.

• You’re given a name, then a category: race, gender, religion, nationality, class.

• You’re taught what people “like you” should believe, pursue, and tolerate.

• You’re rewarded for compliance and punished - subtly or directly - for deviation.

In school, imagination is often tolerated in art class and on the playground, but the core message is: correct answers first, original thought later (if at all). The emphasis shifts from discovering how you see the world to reproducing how the world has already been seen. Over time, curiosity becomes something you indulge in your spare time, not a primary way of moving through life.

Religious and cultural systems can deepen this programming. They may provide comfort and meaning, but they can also narrow the range of acceptable questions and identities. You learn:

• Which thoughts are allowed and which are “dangerous.”

• Which parts of you are “holy” and which are “suspect.”

• Which futures are blessed and which are forbidden.

The result is a subtle bargain: give up some of your imagination in exchange for belonging and safety.

Identity as a script, not a self

Name, race, and religion are real parts of our experience; they shape how the world responds to us and how we move through it. But they are not the full truth of who we are. When society insists that you are primarily your labels, it is not just describing you - it is prescribing you.

This shows up as:

• “People like you don’t do that.”

• “This is what a good mother/son/believer/employee looks like.”

• “Stay in your lane.”

Inside those lines, imagination is treated as a threat: if you imagine differently, you might live differently, and if you live differently, you might no longer fit the role you were assigned. So the system protects itself by making your labels feel like a cage instead of just one part of your story.

Imagination, though, is precisely what lets you notice: “I am more than how you’ve named me. I exist beyond how you’ve categorized me.”

The theft of imagination through education and religion

The theft is rarely obvious. No one stands at the front of a classroom and says, “We are here to dull your imagination.” It happens slowly and quietly.

In many educational systems:

• Creativity is graded, timed, and evaluated, turning play into performance.

• Standardized tests reward memorization over synthesis, compliance over genuine insight.

• Failure is framed as shameful instead of as vital data for experimentation.

You learn to ask: “What’s the right answer?” instead of “What else is possible?” Imagination is demoted from a way of knowing to a childish phase you’re expected to outgrow.

In rigid religious environments, imagination can be treated as suspicion:

• Imagining different interpretations becomes “doubt.”

• Imagining different ways to love, work, or worship becomes “rebellion.”

• Imagining a self beyond inherited roles becomes “pride.”

Over time, you become more fluent in fear than in wonder. You shrink your inner world to stay inside the lines of what you’re told is safe.

Returning to imagination as an act of liberation

Reclaiming imagination is not about denying your history, your culture, or your faith; it’s about refusing to let them be the only lens on your life. It’s remembering that you have an inner cinema, not just an outer script.

You begin by asking forbidden, but necessary questions:

• If my name, race, religion, and job were not the whole story, who else might I be?

• If I wasn’t trying to be “acceptable,” what would I quietly want?

• Which beliefs feel inherited but not embodied?

Imagination becomes a tool of liberation when you:

• Imagine yourself outside the roles you’ve always filled.

• Imagine systems that don’t require your self-betrayal to function.

• Imagine futures that don’t yet have institutional approval - but feel deeply right in your body.

This isn’t escapism. It’s a rehearsal space for a more honest life.

Practices to reclaim your imagination

You don’t have to burn everything down to begin. You start by making small, deliberate spaces where your inner images can surface without being graded or judged.

1. Name the script.

Write down the roles and labels that feel most imposed on you (for example: “good daughter,” “good believer,” “model employee”). Then, for each one, write: “This is something I have been given, not the whole of who I am.”

2. Ask “what if” without editing.

Set a timer for 10 minutes. Finish the sentence “What if I…” as many ways as you can - no correcting, no justifying, no moralizing. Let the raw desires and odd ideas show up. This is your imagination taking off its uniform.

3. Draw or map your life without words.

Sketch your current life as shapes, colors, and lines. Then sketch a second version - what your life would feel like if it were more yours. Don’t worry about artistic skill. You’re giving your subconscious a chance to speak in images again.

4. Create a “protected hour.”

Choose one hour a week where you do not consume institutional voices - no sermons, no lectures, no news, no productivity content. Instead, read something imaginative, walk, daydream, journal, or make something with your hands. This hour is a small act of refusal: “I am not only here to absorb. I am here to originate.”

5. Rewrite a rule.

Take one rule you inherited (“It’s selfish to rest,” “Art isn’t a real career,” “Doubt is dangerous”) and gently rewrite it in a way that honors your humanity. Then live with that revised sentence for a week and see what changes in how you move.

You are more than the systems that named you

The systems that shaped you are not neutral, and they are not ultimate. They may have given you language, community, structure - but they did not create your imagination. That came with you.

You are not obligated to live as only your labels. You are not required to keep shrinking your inner life to fit the dimensions of what school approved, what religion sanctioned, or what culture expects.

Imagination is not childish; it is sovereign. It is the part of you that can see beyond the imposed frame and whisper, “There is more.” When you listen to that voice, you begin to move from being a product of external systems to being an author of your own life.

And that shift - from being defined, to imagining yourself differently - is where freedom quietly begins.

---

Sources / Resources

Psychology Today: “How Education Quashed Your Creativity”

Gilliam Writers Group: “Conventional Education and the Creativity Crisis”

World Economic Forum: “Education systems can stifle creative thought. Here’s how to do things differently”

Trevor Cairney: “The Slow Death of Imagination and Creativity at School – Part 1”

Aeon: “Why we need a new kind of education: Imagination Studies”

ERIC: “Aesthetic Movements of a Social Imagination: Refusing Stasis and …”

New Scientist: “Religion a figment of human imagination”

Religion Online: “The Uses of Imagination in Religious Experience”

The Junkyard: “Recent Work on Religious Imagination”

Adventist Today: “Is Religion a Product of Our Imagination?”

Fiona J. Lindsay: “The Rise of Labels: A Modern Phenomenon Shaping Our Identities”

Partnership for Children: “How labels can shape children and how to challenge them”

Achology: “The Art of Being You: Exploring the Importance of Genuine Identity”