Back to Wonderland

Have you ever wondered where hope comes from? We all know it is the last thing that dies. But why? And why is it so tragic to lose it?
I dream of angels. When there's nothing I can do or hoper for, I only hope I can reach them. Imagine the world was empty as many of us depict it!
It would be hopeless.
Sometimes when I sit alone I wonder what it would be like if every single materialist on this Earth was right. And guess what?! Nothing good comes out from it!
What if everything in this world was exactly as we see it? And just think about what we see or experience every single day!
Very early mornings, work, traffic, pollution, stress, cigarettes, plenty of black coffee, family fights, shortage of money, bills to pay, too long days and too short nights or just the opposite... The list is endless.
So it is understandable if one totally goes insane. Or hopeless. It is just enough to feel this kind of hopelessness a few times to get sick or scared, to get uncontrollably desperate. And with all our "wisdom" we call that state of mind "growing up", or "being an adult"!
Well, you can name it Escapism if you want, or the Peter Pan Syndrome, but I see magic everywhere. I think every single beautiful thing, no matter how simple can be a source of inspiration. Like a flying bird, for example. Or a flying kite. Or a green forest. Or the rain. Sunrise and sunset. A butterfly. Or a child playing. Or candles. And laughter. Or just a cup of coffee. Or loneliness. Pain could be an inspiration, too. Or poetry. Or summer. Or music. Or a gentle little flower. Or...
Did you notice something? All the things I just numbered are creations of Nature. Of God (or The Great Mystery, if you prefer). It's a perfect plan. No one can question it. Mother Nature is a Goddess. She heals wounds. She makes you breathe calmly. She helps you connect with your inner true self. Stop pretending. Go out and hug a tree. Kiss the rain. Caress the flowers. Spring is coming. Your chance is now.
I've been studying and practicing the Craft for 4 years. Recently I happen to daydream more often, no matter my material obligations. And I wish Doreen Virtue was right. I wish Konstantinos was right. I wish Silver Raven Wolf was right. I wish Tolkin and J.K. Rowling were right!
You call it Escapism, or Peter Pan Syndrome, or whatever you want. But I believe in fairies, angels (mostly!), unicorns, elves, magicians, ancient secrets, elementals, and Nature. I believe they exist. They're just not here. We just can't see them. If you think about it often and start visualizing, probably you will feel them. I may sound foolish right now, but I don't care. If you're a superstitious one, why not believe in magic?!
So, next time you come across a ring of mushrooms, or a tree with a strange shape, or a pure white feather that seems to have come from nowhere... Do not pass it by! These are signs of the magic's existence. And its children being real. Because they truly exist. And they must be here. Somewhere. We just can't see them.