call it magic.

I wanted a book.  I get like that.  Give me something that I can use to validate the way I feel.  Something written by someone who says I’m not alone.  That I’m not crazy.  That magic is real, and the Dynamic Duo exist- within me…that the Law of Attraction, or faith, or whatever you want to call it have some validity to them. That I have some validity.  Remind me that I’m not alone- even though to believe what I believe, one must know that we are never alone…Just saying that, feeling that, believing two things can be so different, but yet belong to the same statement- it drives me crazy.  What tears at me?  What is tearing me in two?  In the book of my life, there are two things present on every page; doubt and faith.  I want one to win.  If they were characters, and perhaps they are, I would want one to obliterate the other, though in my current state I can’t say which one I’d root for right now.  And it doesn’t matter…they cannot exist without each other. That’s what tears me in two.  Knowing that without the doubt that makes me question my own faith, I would have no faith at all to answer that doubt with.

I just wanted a book.  One that would speak to my soul.  One that would comfort me. Explain to me why I feel as I do, because to be honest, I don’t have the patience to listen to myself long enough to hear what it is I have to say.  I get so close to my own truth and then, I search for someone else’s to complete it.  Yes, I hear what I just said. In the past, when I was so far gone from my own truth, it worked.  It worked beautifully.  It brought me here.  Now.  It brought me to the truth.  Maybe it isn’t that I can’t hear what I’m saying…maybe it isn’t that I don’t know the whole truth.  Maybe it isn’t that there is more to know…damn it all when this happens.  Can you hear it?  The subtle creeks and moans as my heart shifts ever so slightly, or all at once, into the…truth.

It is the truth that I rally against.  That I fight.  That boils up within me…the scream that catch, catch, catches in my throat.  The fury that burns within my chest, hot like fire, heavy like burning coal, smoldering, melting, smothering the air within me until I feel as though holding my breath would be easier than trying to breathe through the burn, burn, burning that I feel.  The answers come, ever so fast now- the stars align, the heavens conspire, the Dynamic Duo orchestrate the entire fricking cosmos to give me every answer that I need- the next step.  The next right thing.  The thing to make the last wrong thing, right. And I stand still.  I stand in the fire.  Not to rise from the ashes, but as fuel.  Burn baby.  Burn that bitch down.  You give me magic, the cool waves of magic…and someone, maybe me?  Someone, strikes a match.  Burn baby. Burn.

I wanted a book that said, I am living my life this way…but sometimes I feel that way. I believe in magic, but I worry that it’s all an illusion.  I have faith.  And I have doubt. I live the truth, mostly, like a dam that holds back the water- except for those leaks that you can’t stop noticing…that you notice more than the solid structure that contains them.  You don’t notice the strength holding the power back- you judge the leaks as weakness, and the trickles as potential disasters- not as power.  As a sign of the possibility of failings- not as the immense strength it takes to hold up, hold in, hold on. You don’t see a perfect structure.  You see a design flaw.  I wanted a book that would tell me what to do when magic failed me, or I failed it, or someone or something that was most likely me or of my making, failed to be magic at all- what do you do then? When you find that prayers were answered and dreams literally brought true- but then one tiny crack, maybe two, leaked?  When what you created, suddenly feels so out of your control that you question whether or not you had a hand in it at all.  What if, you think, what if you aren’t magic?  Not just that you aren’t but that there is no magic at all?  Doubt and faith.  They square off.  Doubt trying to burn through that scream caught in the throat of denial and faith, just standing there, staring at you, as if to say, this is ridiculous.  You know this answer, and Doubt crying back, no.  No I don’t.  Prove it.  Show it.  Help me.

I found the book.  The Book of Why by Nicholas Montemarano.  The main character is Eric Newcomber. He’s a self help author, a believer in the law of attraction, who loses his father to magic and his wife to cancer. Last night I sat on my bed, pondering the burning of every book I own.  The ashes of notebooks in my dream jar- I told God to get away from me.  I called myself a fraud. A fool.  Magic?  You can’t be serious. Where is that magic now?  Where are your positive thoughts?  Your dreams and letters to times not yet present, but only in your head, with people you …. you manifested? Jesus.  You are crazy.  Burn it.  Burn all of it. Toughen up, shut down, let go, stop. being.  ridiculous.  Get a life.  Get real.  And those statements…those thoughts, also felt…fraudulent.  It was a dual of the frauds.  Am I in there anywhere?  The book.  I found the book.  I can’t finish it.  I’m torn.  I’m just as afraid that he won’t find the magic again as I am that he will.  How can I go on in this life being magic, believing in magic- so believing in who I am, when the world is full of those who don’t?  It’s so frail to me right now.  Not frail like the cracks in the dam, but frail like the fear from them that is not real.  It’s all so doubt and faith, when I just want faith.  I don’t want my doubt, or the doubt of another, or the doubt of negativity…

Is it my magic that is frail?  Is it my faith that lacks?  Is it my doubt compounded by doubts outside of me?  There is a scream in my throat.  Tears and pain that mock magic.  Try us, they snear.  And magic, which I suppose now, though I hate to say it because it weakens the prideful, hurt, screaming me, magic IS faith, isn’t it?  Magic look at tears and pain and just says, let go.  And the Dynamic Duo chime in with a strategically placed text message, which ironically- if you believe in irony, is a song dedication- Faithfully, by Journey.  Then love smiles across my face and the scream gives way to a whimper which Faith will help to let go.  I already know how that book ends.  There’s no other choice.


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  1. #1 by Cherie on September 27, 2013 - 10:22 pm

    Thank you, thank YOU, THANK YOU!!! You put the words to how I’ve been feeling for a LONG time. The faith/doubt, needing books, magic…yep, that’s what I struggle with in all the mess of my life. It comforted me to read this.

    • #2 by foundedna on September 27, 2013 - 10:56 pm

      It comforts me to know I’m not alone. Thank you so much for your comment-
      It isn’t just knowing that when I struggle I am not alone- but that when the struggle ends- we are stronger together.

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