I've always been a believer in Magic. For as long as I can remember I've felt a connection to something greater than myself, something mysterious, something mystical.
As a kid that feeling felt akin to having super powers. After all, it was the era of Superman and Jedis, and I believed wholeheartedly that those powers were real and available to me if I practiced hard enough.
I spent hours in my backyard jumping off of dangerously high things, with the intention of eventually taking flight. Even my dreams were inundated with supernatural experiences,...
Not too long ago I was eavesdropping on a conversation between two women, not just any women mind you, these were intelligent, attractive, accomplished, feminists in their mid-sixties. They were women I admired!
They were talking about their bodies, the conversation was blowing my mind. And not in a good way.
They were spewing the same bullshit I'd heard, and said myself since middle school. I guess I expected more from them. I had hoped that by the time I was in my sixties I would have reconciled my love-hate relations...
Have you ever felt yourself spiral into despair when things didn't turn out the way you expected, you know, that crash and burn feeling of disappointment? I have, to varying degrees. Most intensely when my best friend's son died suddenly at the tender age of six because of an oversight by hospital staff, an oversight that cost a beautiful young boy his life and threw a whole community into shock.
That was the first time my faith in 'the universe' was completely shattered. My entire belief system was burned to ash.