Once upon there were fairytales. And there was magic. And there was wonder all around. It’s a world that still exists. It’s a world that moves and transforms. It’s more like a fog that is filled with mystery, excitement and shimmering lights within your soul.
Usually this magical fog only surrounds children, but every now and then, us grown ups get to share in the magnificence of this belief. This belief that there is more, and that it is spectacular. Perhaps when we dance on a warm summer night, or when we begin to fall in love, or when there is a moment that we just know was meant to be… the sparkling air tickles our hearts, and entices us into this world again.
I fell in love with this world, as a child. I’m sure my windowsill needed more paint than any other piece of wall, or even baseboard in our homes after we moved. I would lay my head and look up until my neck began to hurt from it. I would go to find swing sets and imagine i was flying, and i would climb up every tree, just to get closer to the sky.
I always knew that was where the magic came from; the sky, that is. The sky, and in water. in rainstorms, in rivers, in ocean tides, in sunsets, in rainbows, and in transforming clouds. Everything was possible.
I miss that world. I still look for it. But that magical haze comes not in a stressful pursuit of it, but in a peaceful submission that life happens and it’s beautiful anyway. I think we all miss it. We all want it.
I wonder if I’ll get to be a child again. What’s after this? is the haze the reality? is that distant magic actually a foreshadowing of the future? I hope so. I pray so. And in case it makes any difference, tonight i will wish so on a star…
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