Imagining the Unimaginable

We are all trained to stay within certain boundaries of thought. To imagine too darkly is to be told we are paranoid. To imagine too optimistically is to be called naïve. So, little by little, we learn to stay in the center. We accept what seems reasonable, what fits the common sense of our time.

But practice begins precisely where imagination falters. If we only picture what we already know, how could anything new appear? How could compassion grow beyond the narrow circle of those we already include?

Tantra and the Unthinkable

Tantra makes its home in the unimaginable and the unspeakable. In India, it was the unthinkable taboos of meat, sex, and death. In Tibet, it was the terrifying spirits of the land. Where others saw impurity or danger, tantrikas saw potential. They didn’t deny the energy, they worked with it.

And in doing so, they imagined something beyond the limits of their culture. They pictured that even what was feared, shunned, or cast out could be worked with on the path to awakening.

So what about us? What feels unimaginable in our world today?

A society that values people over productivity. We can barely picture it, because worth is measured in jobs and titles. But what if we recognized innate dignity over earned?

A digital world that nourishes attention instead of consuming it. Hard to imagine when social algorithms are designed to consume our attention. But what if our tools helped us return to presence?

An economy not built on endless growth. Impossible, say the experts. Yet what if sufficiency and balance replaced accumulation as our measure of success?

An earth restored rather than consumed. We live surrounded by news of environmental decline. But what if restoration was not just a dream, but a path we could choose together?

The modern day tantrika doesn’t just fantasize about a better world, they imagine the unimaginable. They stretch us to see what the present moment hides.

Imagination as Practice

On the cushion, imagination takes the form of visualization. We visualize deities, mandalas, and pure realms, not as escapes from reality, but as training in a way of being in reality. We learn to see what’s present but not visible, to stabilize that view, and to let it reshape our way of being in the world.

Off the cushion, imagination is compassion. To imagine another person’s suffering, even when it is different from ours. To imagine the possibility of healing, even when the world insists it cannot happen. Imagination is the courage to see beyond what appears fixed and unchangeable.

The tantric posture is simple but radical: never refuse the unimaginable. When something feels too impossible, too broken, too far gone, that is exactly where we are called to presence.

The practice is to pause and consider: What if this, too, were workable? What if this, too, were included in the practice?

When you meet despair, imagine the possibility of renewal.

When you feel useless, identify the part of you that is already naturally fulfilled.

When society casts someone aside, imagine them at the center of the mandala.

We do not know if these possibilities will “come true.” I don’t really think that is the point. The point is to keep training the heart and mind to refuse to shut down. To keep the door open where others close it.

Making the unimaginable imaginable is a practice. Whatever arises–fear, grief, or hope–becomes a ground for possibility. And in that possibility, the buddhanature of ourselves and others comes to light.