Duster

I haven’t made a wish in a while, not an official one anyway.

I didn’t blow out candles last year for my birthday and I can’t remember the last time Michael held out one of my fallen eyelashes. I have not closed my eyes on the stars, tried to channel a genie, or played tug of war with a turkey bone in quite some time.

I’m not sure exactly when I stopped, but it was probably around the time that I realized wishing doesn’t work.

If I were at Disneyland right now, I might be asked to leave. On the surface, this seems a sad declaration, proof that I’ve lost my youthful whimsey, but I don’t think what I’m saying is dark at all.

Wishing doesn’t work, the only thing that works is work.

I’ve never heard of a heart surgeon who saved a life because he wished it so, or a mother putting food on the table because she was a good person and wished for it. People don’t fight their way out or home by throwing pennies in a fountain. They walk again, rebuild, “get there” because they try and keep trying. Success is not delivered in a cloud of fairy dust, it’s blisters and scratchy eyes.

Wishing is a lovely idea, but it doesn’t move the wheel.  I think we turn to fuzzy flowers when we are tired, or giving up.

This post may feel a little disheartening, like I’m grumpy, but I’m not.  Life is good. I just wish I knew why my printer keeps breaking.

My thoughts from the laundry room. Forty Winks.

7 thoughts on “Duster

  1. I’ve been stalking your posts for hours, minutes–who’s counting since I stumbled upon this blog? I’m fascinated, not sure if I love the beautiful photos, or the enchanted writing more? Thank you for the such a beautiful site! #NewFollower

  2. An empty nest kind of does this. Wishes and fairy dust may not work at this time but when you’re face to face with little kids who truly still believe, they’ll grab you by the heart-strings and pull you along on their journey of discoveries. You’ll find the “Magic” is still there. . .

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