Secret, special magical spaces surround us. An invisible world where the night is lit by a million fireflies, faeries dance, and the trees sing. Be still and quiet; listen for the rhythms.
When we were children, such places abounded. In tangly backyard gardens; mushroom-floored woods. Underneath the boughs of willows; in attic kingdoms.
Pure magic; shimmering, silvery shadows stretching across our imaginations. Found on full moonish nights, or behind doors opening to secret passwords.
Epic sagas, or immediate stories, these places provided something that the soul needs – a sense of wonder, of the impossible, a play ground for the mind to wander.
Worlds we created or where created for us. Simple or elaborate; populated by one or thousands, our magical places offered hours of escape, enjoyment, play and pleasure.
Perhaps revisited with children and grandchildren, kept fresh and accessible. Or fallen into disarray from lack of use. Some slip into these magic spaces, never to return.
We need to find these secret magic spaces so that our imagination stays limber, our creativity awake. When magic is lost, the world is a darker, colder place.
Life robs us of our innocence, our faith in, the will and ability to believe there are hidden spaces were the Old Ways continue, where spells and charms and incantations bring about change.
Right now, I’m afraid I’ve lost my golden key to the castle. Lost the path to my secret magical spaces. They are wraiths; silent, half-visible, untouchable. Depression does that.
I still believe in secret, magical spaces. I’ve never stopped. But tears and deep sadness can block the telling of the tale; the dancing with faeries, of hearing trees sing. Maybe someday I’ll find that path through the woods that leads back to my secret, magical places – out in the world, and inside me.
A thought piece for mlmm Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale 104: a magical place.
(image via pixabay.com)
(c) Lorraine
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January 29, 2017 at 6:46 pm
Lovely piece. I’m sorry about your narrators depression, I understand myself how this can be a block to imagination and creativity, how much those can be hidden by other things.
I think as adults we often become held down by the complications of life and our worry which makes things all the more complex. Perhaps that’s why it’s vital to try to keep things simple. Not to overthink but to leave spaces in our mind open to magic and the impossible.
When we are young, we have such possibility before us and it’s easy to lose that. But Ithink it’s better to say “what if” and the craziest thoughts and pieces of our lives can become inspiring again, can throw us into that space we need to find to write. Perhaps sometimes we must force that inspiration out, sometimes it’s like that.
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January 29, 2017 at 10:42 pm
Good advice!
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January 27, 2017 at 12:05 am
I thought this was wonderfully reflective as I too know that as we age the magic begins to be harder to find…I think it has something to do with our inability to run for buses like we used to….it flows on to everything about us…..but you’ve given me much to consider and I think we need to hold on to the magic for as long as we can….
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January 26, 2017 at 3:26 pm
The magic is always there waiting for you. May it come within your grasp quickly.
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January 26, 2017 at 2:29 pm
Magic is always there waiting to be discovered. It’s a swiss cheese world with nooks and secret places almost everywhere. Maybe the keys git buried under the debris of everyday life. May you find them before too long. ☺
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January 26, 2017 at 2:41 pm
Thanks — like the swiss cheese analogy. At least I still believe in magic, so there’s chance I might find my magical space again.
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January 26, 2017 at 4:11 pm
It’s there. Life advice from a kid’s song. “Dragons live forever, but not so little boys” This leads to “Puff ceasing his fearless roar” Can we live in a world without roaring dragons?
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January 26, 2017 at 4:16 pm
I couldn’t — maybe that’s what’s wrong with the world — too many people who can live in a world without roaring dragons.
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January 26, 2017 at 4:21 pm
I still hold a grudge against people named Jackie. little bastard. I do frocklic in autumn mists because just in case a dragon is out there. We do need more dragons
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January 26, 2017 at 4:29 pm
Definitely more dragons. I frolic in the autumn mists because it’s my favourite season. Love kicking up big piles of leaves.
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January 28, 2017 at 11:35 am
And maybe, you need to shut your eyes tightly, then open them again, seeing the spots and dashes dancing …. and freshly look – not for the old and familiar, but the new – hidden and secret – waiting for you with a soft blushing breath – because sometimes, it’s the old that holds us back – safe, familiar, comfortable – and the memories we grasp at – they too have changed and transformed as we have …. so maybe, it’s not that the mystery and magic is so different, but rather, we just don’t recognize it in its new forms …..
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January 28, 2017 at 11:42 am
Guess that’s why I still believe in magic — that someday I will find it again. Not the magic of the willow tree as a child, nor the magic of sea glass and beach walks, just the feeling inside of the magic glow — that the impossibility is back in a good way. Hard to explain. You have put so much into wonderous words, and I feel finger-tied and mind-sloughed.
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January 28, 2017 at 11:49 am
finger-tied and mind sloughed ….. now’s that a starting point …. as for magic – it still lives and breathes in you. in me. in all of us. sometimes though, I think my downfall is my desperation to find it – and when I do – I freak out, because it wasn’t allowed when I was small – at least not by the few who should have just let it and me be – I swear, you would think that I was some sort of black witch threat to people …. so I kind of panic because it makes me feel very unsafe ….. *sigh* …. ah well, secret dreams, wishes …. perhaps a pixie or 3 might visit for a while …. but today, it has to be snow pixies ;)
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January 28, 2017 at 12:30 pm
Should you need or want it, I do have vials of pixie dust.
I’m not sure I was allowed magic. My mother thought that my imagination was over active and therefore didn’t believe anything I said. But to withhold magic from a child is awful — and leads to your feelings of being unsafe. Magic, the special, wonderous magic, should cocoon you, embrace you, make you feel safe, not scared or a threat or a black witch. There are times I scare myself with my intuitions and such — magic of a sort I suppose. But I don’t think you capable of black magic. Am I that wrong?
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January 28, 2017 at 1:18 pm
I hope I haven’t over stepped any boundaries here. Wishing you get the pixie visits — they like snow too.
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January 28, 2017 at 1:25 pm
I love the idea of vials of pixie dust :)
I wasn’t allowed magic, so I can relate – and yeah, my mother, made of sense and sensibility and stern stuff (blah blah blah) didn’t like my imagination and “crazy wildness” …. so it was “squashed” and there were moments, when I swear (honest to God or whatever) that she was, hold your breath, repulsed. So, no – being on the receiving end of that kind of reception, rejection is not cool.
As for black magic? Well, yeah, I can easily go either way, but “black” arts is not something I actively seek – and if I have gone “dark” – it was well and truly warranted. But in my heart, I’m not that type of person. But wow, can I spot a “black” practitioner from far off. And all I say, in those moments, is best be on your way, go about your business and I’ll go about mine.
I used to be far more intuitive – but over time, especially in my mid-twenties, and by the time I was in my early thirties, I let it die out in me – more’s the “stupidity” – on my part, it would have saved me tons of trouble and grief ….. and now, now that it’s coming back and I’m learning to trust it, it can be a weird place, as you know. So yes, intuitions and psychic abilities are magic too. Sometimes, it’s not knowing why you know, or what meaning or relation it has to something, that is so unsettling.
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January 28, 2017 at 1:33 pm
Yes, those feelings are unsettling — like the things that pop into my head — that I suddenly know. Or seeing behind the mask of someone when no one else seems to, or what ever form it takes with you. Rediscovering these abilities could be strange and unnerving.
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January 28, 2017 at 1:38 pm
Absolutely. Sometimes it feels like a blessing, often a curse. And the fact, as you well know, that in the moment, it’s not like you can turn to someone else and say, “hey – you know …. ” so it can be odd.
I guess it’s just like trying to get re-acquainted with an old friend …. a bit awkward.
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January 28, 2017 at 1:51 pm
That’s a good way to describe it.
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