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.
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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