The Magic We All Hold

Don't you think it's rather strange the levels that we, as people, will reach in order to feel some level of comfort? When I think of that word, I picture my mother's hug, the smell of tobacco and a slight musk that can only be described as her.

Have you ever owned something that brings you comfort? I own two things that I can count, one of them being my vape, the plumes that leave my lips on each exhale brings some level of domination to the world around me. It almost acts as a living metaphor that proves I can affect my environment with my mere existence. It's especially comforting when I feel as though the world spins too fast and my life is a rope slipping helplessly through my fingers.

The second item that I can think of must be my baby blanket. I know, laugh it up now. But I'm not telling you all this to derive laughter or mockery, but to inspire understanding and acknowledgement. 

As a fully grown man, it can be embarrassing to go to a hotel or sleep at a friend or family member's house. I can't seem to leave the blanket behind. As it stands, it's a sheet of fabric, just binary lines of thread that have been woven together. 

But that's not just what it is to me. My blanket is soft, so soft in fact that it feels like a plane of silk, slowly gracing my skin with the barest of feather touches. It's corners are frayed and it's lost it's pearly white to a more shadowy grey. I suppose loving something so much will do such a thing.

I remember, as a child, asking my mother to feel my blanket so she could sense the pure unadulterated magic that flowed through its seams. She could never feel it. When I had a pain or sore stomach, pressing my blanket to the spot that hurt always seemed to cure my ailments. 

And it is this that has brought me to you all today. I wonder if it's at all possible that the magic we read about in fairy tales and Harry Potter actually exists and it's within all of us. Maybe it's the imaginary friend we had a child, or the childhood item we loved so dearly. Maybe it's the coping mechanism that helps you to survive your day to day throng. 

I think we empower devices, that we cause such things to be engorged with life and enchantment. Our minds, so filled with electrical impulses hold that magic that I speak of. I think that with every tear, laugh or word that leaves us is filled with the very thing that causes such magic energy that the power thrives within our very core. 

I hope you can all follow my convoluted metaphors and similes. For I think I can be too ambiguous for my own good. But I'll conclude this rambling with a question. 

What is so magical in your life? Is it the love of another? Do you have a comfort blanket or teddy bear? 

But most of all, what gives you comfort? Because I think that is the greatest magic around us.

Season greetings to you all.

Devs out!