A new pair of sneakers once were the most magical things in the world. I remember believing that somehow and in someway they transformed me into the fastest kid on the block.
I would race up and down the stairs.
In and out the front door.
Down the block as fast as my little legs could take me.
Pigtails bopping.
Wind rushing by.
I was unstoppable.
It wasn’t till I got a bit older did I realize that a new pair of shoes didn’t made me any faster. Only that the excitement of the idea made them seem that way. As I grew older the idea grew smaller until one day I never thought much of magic or magic shoes.
I never thought of the adventure they used to carry.
Never thought of the places I once believed they would bring me to.
Never realized that it was never the shoes themselves
....only me.
I have placed a lot of importance on things outside myself for much of my life. Never recognized in all the beauty, all the wonder, all of the things I looked at with such awe were not outside of me....
They simply reflected all of what was inside of me.
I was the magic and I forgot.
But it was still there.
It’s always been there.
I still felt within the darkness of night the silver, silence of the moon gazing down from above.
I still felt the love in the warmth of the sun that streamed down caressing and gently nudging everything to life.
I felt the magic....but felt apart from it.
Beliefs that life carried and which I choose to drag along for the ride left no room for the magic.
Only the grim and bleak outlook of the bitter experiences of those that had also forgot they too were the magic.
Trudging along the paths of my life I would sometimes catch glimpses.
The fiery explosion of the sun as it succumbed to the night.
Butterflies dancing together high into the deep blue of the afternoon sky.
The smell of a thousand dreams carried within the sweetness of a springtime breeze.
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