Magic Elsewhere
Lessons I learned in 2023—Part three of three.
This is the third in a three-part series. Here are the first and second parts, icymi.
I think this is something I want to keep short and sweet cause I think it really differs from person to person...
There are good times and bad times in life, but what makes childhood so special is that it's the one period in life where everything is novel. Everything is fresh and new and nothing is known, and it can be known if you try, and that's exciting.
Then comes knowing. And heartache. And numbness.
What was fresh and new is now drab and routine. What is and will be simply becomes what already has been. Again and again. Colors escape and in their place come mere shades of grey.
2023 was (quite obviously now) an inflection point in my life—I lost something I thought to be magic. When I'd lost it, it all faded into memory, moving pictures of a past life. With it brought the curse1 of knowledge. Heartache. Numbness. I don't think I could've continued to live if I'd resigned to life remaining that way. My rebellious spirit wouldn't have it that the end of that one thing meant the end of everything, that color can’t ever be had again.
Some of the magic I'd encountered since then were mostly rediscoveries, particularly that of heights. I think I'm producing some of my best writing to date. I made it a resolution this year to be more creative and so far I think I'm doing pretty good.2 The places I've sowed hope into seem to finally be blooming.
"The grass is greener where you water it," so they say. Here's to greener grass and more magic this year. 🥂
More a blessing these days, thankfully.