Stuck in reality

Age has created a hardened shell that protects me from my dreams.  Doesn't allow me to access the realm of imagination.  I remember as a child waiting around through the dumb and boring part of Mr. Roger's until they got to the Land of Make Believe.  I would write stories in 3rd grade that were pages and pages long, I couldn't stop going on about things that weren't real.  My mom told me that she got me a set of colors or paints when I was 2-3 years old and the day she gave them to me I sat down in the morning and painted and wouldn't eat or sleep and would shush her away every time she got close to try to feed me or see if I was ok until she found me passed out on the floor at 11pm with my hand in the air clutching a paint brush.  I have remnants of these imaginative moments but can't just call on them any time, and don't fall into them as often as I used to, and have this idea that in my 40s the shell is covering more of my brain.  I wonder if the dreams of make believe are still there?

The abstraction in the mind, the imagination, the dream state that sees a truth that may not be logistically or literally possible is what makes a story or work of art timeless.  The future is unpredictable and what seems impossible, unrealistic, and wouldn't even occur to anyone in the present, could be the norm in the future and this is where the magic of the dream state comes in because it doesn't come with any universally defined edges and it's inexplicable content can fit into anyone's cultural box.