No one knows it better than children that darkness can be beautiful and exciting. That shadows can have their charm. That solitude can bring up our creative spirits and make them hear voices that naturally disappear during our daily ramble of routines. No one knows it better than children that the unknown is always a promise of discovery, that the scary can easily be turned into the unusual or the magical.
Sometimes we need a bit of help to tread into the unknown and to become childen whose curiosity is stronger than fear, we need to be helped with going through the darkness of self-discovery. During our darkest moments we rarely resemble children who are interested in observing or making the magic happen. During our darkest moments we are utterly confused, stuck in the difficulty. And this is when we reach for somebody or something and this is usually the time when many of us start to pray again – or to pray for the very first time ever. The prayer works, mostly when we understand that
“The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.” Soren Kierkegaard
It’s when we start to smile at darkness that the magic begins. It’s when we take the responsibility for making the magic happen, that it does.
I grew up in a village partially surrounded by wide stretches of open land. In a building that comfortably housed my grandparents, my parents, me and my sister. There was a large garden behind our house, with other farm buildings and a field where different things were grown depending on the year. My cousins’ house was on the same yard as ours and not a day passed by without us playing together and visiting each other. I grew up in a warm-hearted community surrounded by beautiful natural spaces.
Postcards Without Stamps 