I was told once “Don’t ever lose your magic”.
I remember saying,”what magic?” (Because I certainly never thought of myself as ‘magical’)
They said: “The magic of when you’re deep in thought yet have that sparkle in your eyes with a wisp of child-like joy.
Or when you hurriedly bandaged up the cuts of your dog that got in a fight before your kids could see the trauma.
Or when you laugh at yourself falling off a rock.
I thought about that. Laughing, joy, carefree. Finding the magic.
If I could pick one word that describes my ‘persona’ the last few years it would be consumed. Not with magic but with saving my son and my family.
It’s been the most horrendous, exhausting journey I could ever imagine. Do I blame my son? No. Many others already have that role. My role, my character in this version of life seems to be the one who holds onto hope. With every last thread I can get my hands on, I hold onto believing in the power of miracles. Dare I say- the gift of magic.
You know, the funny thing about that magic is that it is always there like a never-aging friend. It can be plucked off its low-hanging fruit of life. However, most people don’t know where to find it or even that it even exists at all. As we get more bogged down with problems and life’s hardships, we become blinded to finding joy.
There are two superhighways to find it. I have spent my life walking the fine line of the division of the two. Trying to balance the responsibility of woman hood with the joy of childlike fun.
Like a pendulum clock swinging side to side, I spent so much time over the years seeing both of the sides of the spectrum and meeting in the middle the best I can. Both sides pulling at me with their energy of everything I wanted the most at the time.
The innocent childhood hopes and dreams gave way to new hopes & plans now riddled with so many expectations.
These expectations, interspersed with blankets of fear and mountains of tears, left me questioning the innocence and joy of life.
My heart now beats in the middle of all this, wondering how to maneuver the pain of the last few years with the possibility of living out my years in peace.
Yes, every day is a choice.
A choice for peace.