The Magical Child

I had a magical experience on Sunday night. My two companions saw the magic in me. They saw me smile and cheered for me, told me I looked beautiful. My bitter friend rejected me when I tried to share my experience with her, like a grumpy parent rejecting an excited and enthusiastic child. I’m sure that was done to her as a child, as it was to me. The result is to compromise in trying to be accepted and lose your magic in the process. You become what you think you are wanted to be and not who you are.

My image for this is a child presenting a dandelion to their mother as a beautiful flower and being brushed away and told, ‘It’s only a wee-the-bed.’ How easily you can get discouraged by someone else’s jaundiced view, especially if they are someone you want to accept and love you. How easily you lose the magic in your heart. How easily you devalue magical experiences, debase them and turn them into something gross and mundane. How easily you deny the worth of your reality.

But, to meet a fellow traveller, (if you believe you are on a path), and share one insight, or more, for a moment, an hour, or maybe longer – it doesn’t matter how short or how long – is pure magic. This is the stuff that healthy relationship is made of.

When we are honest with one another, when we meet with open hearts to share our truths and receive each other, listen, take each other in, that’s when the magic happens because we are nurturing the magic, the divinity in each other. How many of you can claim you had that nurtured in you as a child? Some children do.