“When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don’t recall it. See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves.”
I want to be 12 years old again not because I want to change the course of my destiny.
I want to be 12 years old again to re-experience the age of innocence: fairies, dwarfes, knight-in-shining armor and magical kingdom.
I want to be 12 years old again to tell all those who passed away in the present time that I love them very much every single day.
If there is a time machine, I want it to bring me back to that time even for an hour. No, I don’t want to change everything in the past because my past life taught me lessons and molded me into a better person that I am now.
I don’t want to change who I met and who broke my heart because I am happy with my children now…and changing the past means not having them in the present.
Perhaps I can just be 12 years old at heart: loving, fun and magical.