That old magic!

Do you remember knowing that green was your favorite color because it’s what made the grass grow?

Do you remember when the 3-eyed, orange-fanged monster lurking under your bed was real (and smelly), waiting to pounce as soon as your toes touched the floor?

Do you remember how powerful and brave Dad was when he banished these beasts with a chanted command: “Go away, Go away! Nobody here wants to play!”

Do you remember when coloring outside the lines just meant you had more space to fill with brilliant colors?

 

Do you remember when ANYTHING was possible if you tried hard enough (especially if Dad was there to help during the hard parts)?

Suspending the willing suspension of disbelief

I can’t point to a specific point in time, but somewhere along the way, I stopped believing in magic. No Santa Claus. Flying meant buying a plane ticket. Dreams became strategic visions that were only implemented after a thorough feasibility study.

It wasn’t all bad. I learned that even though I was told babies were “delivered,” we get to play a pretty fun part in the production process. I learned that the human heart is more than an animated vessel that dispensed warm fuzzies, it’s an amazingly complex pump that continuously circulates life-sustaining blood. And those feasibility studies, they likely prevented countless disappointments from unrealized dreams strategic visions.

While I can’t point to a specific point in time that I stopped believing in magic, I CAN pinpoint the moment I wanted to start believing again.

MAGIC. 

©Whimsicalthoughtsblog

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