If you know the story of Mary Poppins you’ll know that the children could only understand what the birds were saying when they were very young. Open hearts and minds; unfettered by responsibility, or yearning to be anything other than what they were; gave them a portal to endless wonders. Explanations were unnecessary – imagination a tool rather than a task. Peter Pan never grew up, Alice disappeared down a rabbit hole, and Dorothy travelled to Oz.
My early years were spent in those places. Never bored or at a loss for what to do, nothing seemed impossible. I devoured Greek mythology, could name every constellation in the night sky. There were forts to build, tunnels to dig, hollow logs to explore. I wasn’t afraid of trolls or goblins, I knew how to avoid their tricks. Fairies danced for me every evening, certain it was just a matter of time until they invited me for tea.
Not…
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