When I was a kid, I was a great believer of magic. I believed too much that if you tell me things would vanish in thin air, I would be quivering in fear. I looked up to everything around me as MAGIC.
Until third grade, I would cross the bridge going to the house of my grandparents crawling. I was dreading the time that "magic" would appear and swallow my whole body. The bridge was not really so high. But then, when you were young, you think that everybody's too tall or everything's too deep.
|I have no map that would steer me all the way. No "magic" to help my voyage easier. Nobody to point which path is right, but I won't put myself in a bitter strife, my journey continues...against all odds.|
Magic also made my childhood easier. I fought my adversaries thinking that magic would do the fighting for me. I would imagine that because of magic, my opponents would go home inflicted with misery and I need not to commit sin by fighting them back.
Getting sick was also easier. My mind was already conditioned that "magic" would do the healing and I would not suffer for long. Family problems? Oh, I have given them up to "magic" for fixing, it made my life easier.
The lush meadows, the splendid blue skies, the marvel of the butterfly coming out from its cocoon, the multihued rainbow...they made my tiny heart ached for more wonders of the world. "Magic" imprinted in my soul the anticipation of my future where "bigger magic" dwells.
Many years later, my conviction was slowly tainted as I sailed through hard life. I was not really sure how it happened but I just woke up one day devoid of the "magic" feeling.
I guess that's the hardest part of growing up. All the innocence slowly ebbed away as tribulations hit me over and over again.
Life's hindrances shred me with the fervor to trust "magic". I no longer crossed the bridge with trepidation or look at an illness as ephemeral. Problems cast dark clouds making me gloomy the whole day. Foes created permanent hole in my heart.
Things around me suddenly lacked wonder and they were just simply part of everyday living. It was not what I envisioned it to be where splendor of magic was abundant.
Life is simply a puzzle I work out each day. Sad as it may be, there is no such thing as "magic".
Each day I face is simply a stepping stone of a continuous learning process. There is naught to fear in the journey ahead but deep down in my heart, a part continuously hope that I just remained a child forever.
However, returning could be done by memory alone. I could only track the road only once. If I see the end of path ahead, it doesn't mean that I could stop. It was just there to help me rest for a while. There is no "magic" that would help me to detour.
I have no map that would steer me all the way. No "magic" to help my voyage easier. Nobody to point which path is right, but I would not put myself in a bitter strife, my journey continues...against all odds.
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