Looking for my magic

From Boy’s Life
Robert R. McCammon

"See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves."

I seem to have lost my magic, but the first step in finding it again is knowing that it is lost. I've started looking, slowing down, seeing everything...

Today, I mowed the "lawn" and puttered a bit, got dirty and sweated, blew the button off my pants, read a book, took a hammer to a cabinet that needs tearing out, hung laundry on the line, drove the big red truck, drank a slushy-cold Dublin Dr. P, wandered the overgrown end of Mom's property (after we climbed the fence like kids), found a big ol' barrel cactus, rescued a pink flamigo destined for the dump, found a new artist who inspires me, watched the birds take dirt baths in the un-mulched part of the garden, talked to my plants, made origami-newspaper pots to start more seeds in, talked to my neighbor about lizards laying eggs, ate cereal for dinner, refused to comb my hair, and just generally enjoyed my day.

Much better than yesterday!