I was lucky enough as a child to have artist parents who taught me about Wonder. Especially my dad.
My dad is the best Storyteller. With a capital “S”because being a true storyteller is a big deal and I feel like there aren’t that many out there anymore. Like, my dad would be a traveling bard (if he could sing) and storyteller that went from kingdom to kingdom to pass along wise anecdotes and entertain people for his supper, if he’d been born in a different time. It’s pretty awesome. He just knows exactly what to say and the faces and voices to make to keep you enthralled. It’s a talent.
My dad told me about fairy circles that would transport people to Fairy where I could dance for a day but come back years later. He told me about Baba Yaga and her house that moved on chicken legs. About mermaids that lured sailors to their deaths with songs of their most precious dreams. I heard about Little Red Hood and all the Grimm’s and Hans Christian Anderson stories. I learned the dangers of magic as well as its beauty.
I still believe in magic. It’s everywhere. Magic makes me appreciate the little things, like fresh fallen snow and that newspaper that’s blowing across the street that might just be a little goblin in disguise. The truth is, the world is a fucking disaster on so many levels. It’s also incredibly beautiful. Sometimes, I get really caught up in the negative and I forget about all the beauty that surrounds me. Whether it’s holding hands with the person you love, kissing your best friends on the cheek goodbye, watching kittens chase their tails, or puppies piling on you when you get home. It’s the unexplainable delights that appear late at night, when you can’t sleep, and nothing makes sense anymore. The best things come from that little bit of magic we all hold inside ourselves.
Watching the news and everything going on with politics has me spinning. It has me angry and upset. I’m thankful for the little bit of magic that I hold that let’s me see that though there are plenty of awful things going on, I am lucky to have found that most of the people I choose to call friends are fighting for a better world. They are filled with love, even for those they disagree with and those who are different, and THAT is magic.
P.S. Fairies are totally real and I think squirrels are little mischievous elves running amuck.