Did you grow up believing in magic?
I did.
I was the kind of child who spent hours in the backyard with our two dogs, Lucy and Lion-O (Thundercats, named by my brother). I lived in an enchanted world that was not just a backyard full of grass and trees. No, that stone path led into another world full of mythical dreams, illusive characters, and a realm of imagination I can never get back.
When I would exit the house, I would enter into a land of twisted fantasy with dark and ominous trails that would lead to the witch's house. And nothing was the same when I was out there. In that yard I saved villages of people, all in one powerful swoop of my sword that projected fire. I met the love of my life. I killed the evil beasts. I overcame abusive rulers. I conquered demons of many powers. I discovered new life in simple pieces of nature. I salvaged lost souls of the forest.
And fine. Every now and then, I ate mud pies.
Because out there, anything was possible. Because out there, anything was available. Because out there, my mind didn't listen to anything or anyone else. Because out there, I was safe. No matter how dangerous of an eerie backwoods where I may have found myself "injured and alone," I was fine. The only danger that beheld itself was my own imagination. It became unsafe when it began to stay indoors.
When I stopped going into the backyard. When I stopped creating stories and living them out. Something happened. Something changed. I closed a piece of the chapter on my childhood. I said goodbye to my imaginary best friend. I said goodbye to the evil gremlins who looked like those of The Labyrinth. I said goodbye to various characters that were my sidekick, my enemy, my suitor, my partner in battle.
I don't write this in a state of sadness. I recall these memories with a fond recollection on the beauty that is childhood. I am reminded that when your creativity is crushed, a part of you is as well. I don't think I would like to write as much if I didn't get a chance to live out my imagination as a child. Because that's what writing is. Imagination on paper. Stories that you always wanted to tell. Or ones that are only able to be reproduced on lines.
And, if you had to grow up too fast, for that I'm sorry. If you were never able to experience those years in your own Wonderland, I really hope at some point you are able to embrace it. Or see it through the eyes of a child. Because, those years...Well, I learned a lot of things. Here are the three most important pieces of wisdom I would like to offer from my years outside:
1. You have nothing to lose. Do whatever you want.
2. You have nothing to lose. Do whatever you want.
3. And, it's not a wooden frog. That amphibian has seen its last days. Trust me. It's just a dead frog. Put it down. And walk away.
On the days that I feel ordinary or boring. I remember that girl. The one who would get lost in her own world. And I smile. Because, baby, let's remember our backyard years. Sometimes they help us move forward. Sometimes they inspire us now. Sometimes they put the magic back into our minds.
Wooden Frogs and Mud Pies.
-S
