The Magical Child

Young children are magical and if you dare to release your own "adulthood" you can be invited into their magical world. A privilege to take part of. A world where you have to take your shoes off before entering the sacred ...
One also have to crouch to pass through the little low door . But once inside the space is endless and everything is possible. Imagination is just as real as reality and the poem more true than the truth if only you as an adult dare to think that you can fly and that reality maybe is just an illusion.

Sometime ago I did an eye operation to which I had been very worried. My then four years old grandchild tried in various ways to reduce my fear. The day before surgery, she retrieved a small dog miniature in porcelain.

She kept it a long time in her little hand and kissed it. Then she handed it over to me with the call:

" hold my little dog in the hand during the operation and squeeze it grandmother, then you will feel ME"
That's what she said with the overthrow evident in her voice and in full confidence.

I did as she said and hugged hard the little tiny dog in my hand, which was so charged with her love that I could feel it’s warmth. When the scalpel approached the eye the forthcoming panic failed to come and I felt HER
She was there with me, my little Elle. That’s magic ...

Sometimes I wonder if you have to be a "grandma" to be invited to this world where everything is possible. As a parent and ”in the middle of a stressed life” the noise from a rational world maybe stands in the way for enough sensitivity to this kind of hints about joining magical worlds

Or maybe it has to do with me and my refusal of being an adult in a stereotype way and that I’m closer to my inner child than to the ”old bag” I am ;)