I believe in faeries.
I believe in mystical, magick. In wonderous affairs. In miracles. In soul mates and rainbow gold and the power of wishes made on shooting stars and dandelion seeds sent floating on the breeze.
I believe in these things because in the past, when all around me other folks chose to turn to bitterness and jaded sight, I clung stubbornly to a blind faith in the potential of a situation. When I was living in a loveless marriage, I still believed in love. When I was poor, really truly struggling to survive, living-in-a-tent dirt poor, I still knew in my heart I would see easier days with financial blessings. When I felt all alone, I knew I was still cared about. When I was walking down a path that had a ton of disappointments I still trusted that eventually my pathway would lead me to brighter days.
I’ve seen it. A million times over.
Sometimes I forget for a bit.
Like in the days after my fiancé Ken died a few years ago.
Losing him was like losing the sun in my sky. I was ripped raw, tore up, broken down. I got on a bus to make an 18 hour journey to his funeral in Ohio. On the way was a layover for a couple of hours at a bus stop. At the bus stop was a man waiting to board another bus. He was telling a group of passengers about his journey. He explained how his sister had been beaten to death by her boyfriend. How he had “known some people” who had dealt with the boyfriend and they had beaten the boyfriend to death, his body found frozen in the snow he next day. And now this young man was on a bus to go identify his sisters body so they would release it for burial. I listened to his story in horror. A week ago I had been happy. living my simply little life with a man I loved who was my best friend, and our 5 sons. Life was good. But then I discovered that life can take away people you love in a blink. And I listened to this mans story and realized how much darkness and evil and horrible things truly exist. My faith in things like faeries and magick and love wavered. I was scared.
It took me a long time to believe again. I admit I lost my childlike belief system for a time. I quit believing in love and light and hope. It got beat out of me by the storms of life, by fists, by words, by broken promises, by my own doubt in God and myself.
But the sunshine can never stay away for long. Some things have no explanation or answers. Some things ……you just never find closure or comfort or peace in. But life is meant for the living. So, we have to. We must. To live in mediocrity within our own hearts is to live a half-life, a life dishonest to our own hearts.
So, I believe in love again. I once thought I would never love again like I loved him. But I am. I do. I believe in prosperity even when bills pile up. I believe in laughter and hugs on the darker days. I believe this world to be a simply amazing beautiful place and I believe people to be more good than bad.
An inscription was found scrawled on the wall of a cellar in Cologne,Germany, where Jews were hidden, that read: “I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. I believe in love even when I am alone. I believe in God even when He is silent.”
This is simple truth. That things exist despite what we may feel or be walking through or think or rationalize. That life has so much to offer, even when we refuse to reach out and grab it.
In The Dairy Of Anne Frank, a young but wise-beyond-her-years Anne wrote: “In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.”
Call it naive. Call it gullible. Call it foolish to see the world through rose colored glasses.
All I know is, sometimes, if I hike out far enough into the forest, and sit very very still, I swear I can hear the rustling of grass from tiny faerie feet dancing.
I swear they exist.