Believing the Impossible Before Breakfast
Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. — Lewis Carroll
A Whimsical Manifesto for Imagination
Lewis Carroll’s line, spoken with cheerful confidence, treats impossibility not as a dead end but as a playground. By placing “six impossible things” in the ordinary rhythm of “before breakfast,” he collapses the distance between daily life and fantasy, suggesting that wonder is a habit we can practice like any other. This framing matters because it shifts imagination from childish escapism to a deliberate posture toward reality. Rather than waiting for inspiration, the speaker trains the mind early—when routines are forming—to entertain ideas that break the usual rules.
Nonsense as a Tool, Not an Absence of Sense
Moving from whimsy to method, Carroll’s “impossible things” reflect the tradition of literary nonsense, where playful logic exposes the limits of conventional thinking. In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865), paradoxes and riddles don’t merely confuse; they reveal how easily we mistake familiar categories for truth. Because nonsense rearranges assumptions, it can sharpen perception. When the mind tries to make sense of the impossible, it discovers which rules are essential and which are merely inherited habits of thought.
Childlike Belief Versus Mature Skepticism
From there, the quote quietly challenges adult seriousness. Children often accept improbable scenarios with ease, not because they lack intelligence, but because their models of the world are still flexible. As we age, skepticism becomes a form of self-protection, yet it can harden into reflexive dismissal. Carroll’s breakfast-time boast proposes an alternative: keep skepticism, but loosen the grip. If belief can be tried on temporarily—like a costume—then the mind can explore without committing to gullibility.
Creativity as Rehearsal for New Realities
Next, the “six impossible things” reads like a creative warm-up. Many innovations begin as contradictions to what “everyone knows,” and the ability to hold an absurd-seeming possibility in mind is often the first step toward testing it. Even Einstein’s thought experiments relied on imagining scenarios that initially sounded impossible, such as riding alongside a beam of light. In this light, Carroll’s line becomes practical advice: rehearse the improbable early and often, so that when a viable new idea appears, it doesn’t get rejected merely for feeling unfamiliar.
The Psychology of Cognitive Flexibility
Shifting into a modern lens, the quote aligns with what psychologists call cognitive flexibility—the capacity to switch perspectives and consider multiple frameworks. Entertaining “impossible” propositions can function like mental cross-training, making it easier to adapt when real life violates expectations. Moreover, the playful tone reduces the threat of being wrong. By treating impossible beliefs as experiments rather than declarations, the mind can explore alternatives without the anxiety that often shuts curiosity down.
A Daily Practice of Wonder and Humility
Finally, the breakfast detail hints at routine: wonder is something you can schedule. The habit of imagining impossible things fosters humility, because it reminds us that today’s certainty may be tomorrow’s outdated assumption. It also fosters hope, because it makes room for outcomes beyond what current evidence seems to allow. Taken together, Carroll’s sentence is less a claim about reality than a philosophy of attention: begin the day by widening what you can conceive, and the world will offer more ways to be surprised.