Do you remember being a child, and believing in love the same way you believed in magic? I do. I remember the books, the fairytales, and for some time I believed I came from a family of fairies…another story…which is likely one of the reasons I am the way that I am. Not just a dreamer, but a believer.
Like most people, as I grew older, a series of realities would crush my beliefs. What could have been a little shake here and there, ended up breaking my heart. When you believe love is everything and magic is everywhere, so purely and genuinely, it’s hard to face off with the non-believers, eventually one is likely to fall jaded.
After sometime I lost my way, I stopped questioning the world around me, I forgot how it felt, to believe in the magic. That’s when I forgot where I was going for a little while, but the magic wasn’t ready to give up on me so quickly.
Little by little, I was shown how NOT everything has to be too good to be true. It was like being given reminders from “the universe”. A certain person would run into me from the past. Or a piece of rubble would remind me of a treasured piece of my self I’d almost forgotten. Some people say these are just coincidences, others call them synchronicities, but I call them magic. For what is magic, but a reminder that everything is incoherently connected? Maybe unscrambling the incoherence is a part of understanding how it all works, but maybe we aren’t meant to understand everything isn’t that faith?
I think that those with feminine souls feel more connected to magic, as it is apart of the yin aspect, the creative force of nature that doesn’t have to make sense but comes in a whirlwind the enlivens the senses. We yearn to smell the dirt, to put our hands on the barks of trees, to pick flowers and wear them in our hair. To dance in the warm rain like nobody is watching, because it makes us feel alive. This is basic magic.
The magic that we seemingly do not control is the more difficult to wrap our minds around. It hides in the moments that matter, like when you see yourself in another person, and they have the same dog as you do, same bark, same gestures… practically a clone, and then a few months later you find out that this guy you just met who sparked something familiar, had been living on your late grandfather’s boat for 8 years.
Then it hits home, and you remember again what it felt like to believe, at least I do now. Everything begins to open up again, it’s like you created a dam of disbelief and now that you’ve let it go, there is a limitless flow available.
Im not saying Im going to start jumping off my bed with a broomstick, again, in hopes that I fly. But Im not far off, because now I’m dreaming big again, and believing that whatever it is I put my heart into it will fly beyond my wildest dreams.
(Picture- From the Wishing Arbutus Tree- where I slept next too for months in my van)