“Do you believe in fairies?” Sofia hands a little note to me. I’m a realistic adult, I have things to do, no time to waste. This is the real world and we have to get on the ride, otherwise we’ll fall behind. Time has no mercy; we need to work, work, and work.
Still, I’m envious of her. Sofia always seems so happy.
It took me several years to figure out her secret. Though she seems to be here, she’s usually somewhere else. She has a simple tool to make it happen: her imagination. You never know what kind of creatures she’s dealing with. She might be saving the life of the queen fairy or babysitting the one-eyed, pink dotted monster’s 38 newborn babies.
There is never enough time for all the wonderful things. Even sleeping is a waste of time for a child this busy. Everyday chores are an unnecessary must, but she finds a way to make them enjoyable. The other day I caught her playing with a napkin while setting the table. The white paper napkin became a little bird with broken wings that needed Sofia’s helping hands. By accident, it landed on our cold kitchen floor. Sofia carefully picked it up and lifted it high, up to the table placing it next to her plate where she could keep a close eye on it.
When I see this, I feel I want to be a child again and to be able to enter this wonderful world of imagination where nothing is impossible. But how can I do it when I’m constantly interrupted by the demands, complaints and comments of my three children?
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” “Mommy, sis’ is not sharing!” “Mommy, I found a ladybug!”
Suddenly, in front of my magic eyes, my children become tiny, phenomenal creatures, crying for help. I have to shelter them at all times with my big, protective wings. I’m part of their world, a superhero with superpowers. I repair ripped paper dolls, turn a strange broccoli into an edible meal and heal injuries as well as broken hearts. I am their hero.
Then it dawns on me: this is my Fantasy Land.
Wearisome chores, monotonous work and seemingly boring routines are much less tedious because of the faith I have in childhood-like reverie. We shouldn’t let our imagination die. We need it more than ever, as adults, in our daily life. It means enthusiasm, passion, eagerness. Without it, we are just frustrated, machine-like people doing our tasks only because we have to. Let’s bring joy into our life, invite friendly monsters, gracious fairies or fearless dragons to our day.
Therefore, when my nine year old asks if I believe in fairies, my answer is: “I certainly do”.
I believe in fairies and I believe that daydreaming is an important part of our life. It helps us through difficult, tedious moments. It means staying in touch with our inner self, our hidden dreams and goals. It makes us come alive.
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