A
female
age
30-35,
MissesConfused
writes:When you were a child, was everything somehow magical? You always knew something that the adults didn't. It wasn't a secret, just some form of fleeting knowledge that fades with age. When you were a teenager, weren't you in a hurry to grow up? You wanted to be treated like an adult, because that's the only way people would take you seriously. When you were an adult, didn't you want to be a child again? You remember having that innocence about you, because maybe you believed in fairytale magic.So here I am, a teenager starting high school, and realizing that I'm no longer the cute, little child I used to be. I know more about the world, a truth that is both wonderful and depressing at the same time. Yet, you could be however many years older than I am and going, "What does this girl know at fourteen?" See, and I'll be fair, because you're right. What do I know at this age? But let me clue you in on a little secret. Most adults think us teens don't know squat, and the feeling is mutual.Point is, there are instances where I wish I could go back in time and remember that climatic rush of emotion of soaring high above the clouds, when in reality I was just on a swing. Now when I go to sit on a swing, the feeling as great as I recall it being. I'm taller, pessimistic, and bored now. I've changed. The only excitement I get is when I hear the bell at the end of the day, telling me I can FINALLY go home.And yeah, I used to believe in Santa Clause. Every Christmas Eve, I slept on the couch and I could have sworn I saw a red blur and somehow, I'd always end up on my bed with a letter tucked in my hands from the big guy. Being a little more skeptical, I realized that I suffer from the occasional sleep walking (I guess it happens that I sleep walk on Christmas Eve) and it was my mom's handwriting. Though, I can't explain the red blur, but for all I know, I could have dreamt that part up. I'll never know.The day I found out that Santa Clause didn't exist is when I began to question all things of magic that I used to think exist. Mermaids, fairies, good monsters, wishes made on stars could come true, the moon could talk back, and more recently love. After all this time, knowing that the extraordinary doesn't exist still depresses me, and I miss being a child. I have to confess this: reality is highly over rated.But what is extraordinary? What is a miracle? Does magic exist? Or is it all a childhood fantasy? When I was a child, I remember my heart always saying that those things were all one in the same and that 'grown-ups' were crazy for always going on about their stupid problems instead of cherishing the magical world all around them. As fate would have it, I'm beginning to have those same problems and it's hard to remember that the world can be sorta wonderful at times.However, the dreams aren't all gone. I realize now that maybe not all miracles have to be extraordinary or even magical. It's the common kinda miracles that surround me every single day that we all take for granted that have some sort of hidden meaning. Whether it's just the touch of a flower petal, the color of the moon, or just breathing air... They have some sort of miracle that maybe I'll understand someday. If not, what's wrong with a little mystery?Just a few thoughts...
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reader, Inuyasha +, writes (30 July 2010):
sorry to say this but besides little miracles like someone is kind enough to allow you to pay $20 on a $21 and 51 cents bill magic realy doesnt exsist in the natural world that we are all stuck in.:(
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reader, anonymous, writes (4 September 2009): This was really interesting to read. I know what you mean. When I was a child, I didn't need any toys to keep me amused. No, my own imagination did the job perfectly well! I believed that absolutely anything and everything was possible. I believed in fairies. In fact, I even believed that I could fly, if I tried hard enough! Life did seem really magical and vibrant.
Now, I guess I have grown up. I'm now more in touch with reality. Or am I? I mean, what is reality? Isn't it what we make it? So if you think it, if you imagine it, if you believe it, then in some way it exists.
Some people say that when you are a child, you are living in a dream world, in a fantasy. And that when you are an adult, you wake up. But what if it's the other way around? What if, as an innocent child, you are more open and aware of the other, more subtle possibilities in life? And when you get older, rather than waking up, maybe you are in fact falling asleep?
I think that's a possibility, because as you get older, and the harsh truth about life hits you, you lose a lot. Sure, you gain things. Independence, confidence, self-reliance, choices, control. But what do you lose? Your imagination? Innocence? Playfulness? Adventure? Wonder? Those things are hard to hold on to when you are bogged down with the demands of modern life.
I try to keep a balance. I function in this world, all sensible, practical, down-to-earth, realistic. But I keep all of the magic, all of the dreams, the wonders, the fantasies, all alive inside my head. It's sort of like a little private place I can go to when life seems to be getting too hard. In this fantasy place inside, anything is possible. I am free to dream, to do and be anything I want to be. In this way, I am still keeping some of that childhood magic alive.
Those are just my thoughts on the topic. Thank you for this article, I found it very unique and thought-provoking. x
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reader, anonymous, writes (4 September 2009): Magic is being oblivious to reality. The more you know, the more you fade from magic.Kinda feel like my childhood is being taken away though. I mean, you're 14 and starting high school, i'm 15 and finishing it! England sucks. But back to magic and miracles...i stoped believing pretty early on. I was like 6 wen I put my nasty little tooth under my pillow and the next day that mocking piece of calcium was still there. Tooth fairy was a no show.But hey i gotta disagree, love is as real as the recession.
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