When we were younger, we used to dream of becoming witches and wizards, surrounded by magic all around us. Well, most of that credit goes to J. K. Rowling, but nonetheless, everything about magic fascinated us. To be able to conjure something from thin air, to be able to bring to life inanimate objects of desire, to be able to fly as if we had invisible wings to soar up to the sky.
And then somewhere along that road of wanting all those magical things, we grew up.
We grew up hearing about how the world was a big, bad place, where people found joy in hurting others.
Where our parents asked us to become “stronger”, “less emotional”, “tougher”, as if they were good things to be; the only things to be.
Well… I wonder where that got us?
We all fell in and out of love, only realizing the truth of the world, that perhaps, love did leave people only with pain and loss. We were made to believe, over and again, that love was inseparable from grief, and just like that, we became afraid.
We became afraid of falling in love. We became afraid of feeling the magic soaring in our souls, because we were scared that it would leave us empty and broken. And we stopped letting ourselves love…
We forgot along the way that love was all magic, and magic was all love. We forgot, that the only way to conjure a Patronus was to conjure love and happiness. We forgot, that the only way to save someone, is to love them and love them unconditionally. We forgot, that the greatest power in the world is to love and be loved.
We forgot, that love and magic were one.
Lots of love,