25 years of wishing for the hero. She / He would appear in a variety of forms: My fairy godmother, a knight in shining armor, a magician, a wizard, a god, magic itself. It sounds like the mind of an imaginative 9 year old, and it was.
Yet, there I stood in the hotel room examining my new wand. It rose from deep in my core. A tingling sensation that shot through my veins for a single instant. One moment of pure childlike desire. A second of clear belief that my will could overpower the world of science and magic would become real.
It was ridiculous and slightly humorous – to still desire magic after so long. The wand in my hand was a replica, a souvenir from none other than the wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter. The feeling may have passed over in a second, but, for that one moment, every atom of my body from head to toes felt electrified with belief.
Why? What sparked such a desire? Am I a failure of an adult? Is it really possible I never gave up on secrets within our world? I’ve always cherished my ability to retain a childlike imagination and view. Was this just a remnant of that or did it point out stunted growth on my way to adulthood? I mulled it over for hours trying to understand.
An old professor once told me that we could never find the solution if we hadn’t yet found the right question. By dwelling on my belief vs. realism, I had mis-framed the question. It wasn’t “Is it wrong to still desire magic in my world?” The right question is “Why do I want so badly to believe it’s real?” That change altered everything. Suddenly, all the answers became clear.
8 year-old me and 25 year-old me both had a full stock of wishes, wants, and desires. Many of my wishes today are the haven’t changed in years. Excitedly, I jotted down every last one. Yes. Most of these would have made my list 17 years ago. They’ve matured over time to fit my life today, but the desires are deeply rooted in my childhood.
…to be continued…