William Michael came home from the school the other day and said that one of his girl classmates told him “boys don’t have magic.” I wondered what their conversation had been leading to this conclusion. I’d love to be a fly on the wall to listen to their innocent 4 year old conversations.

This came up again as I was loading the car with groceries from Wal Mart. This time I replied, all kids have magic and are magical. My niece Sidda was with us and she said, “Adults don’t”. I agreed; adults don’t have magic and told her we were boring.  This conversation led me to start thinking about when it is as children we lose our magic.

The magic I am referring to is the ability to use our imagination (making pasta out of dirt as William Michael and Sidda are doing at the moment) or to not have a concern in the world (even when I’m relaxed, there’s always something lurking in the back of mind-maybe that’s just my personality but I think most adults are some what this way-with different extremes). This magic also disregards what others think of us, and we are truly able to be ourselves.

I am jealous of this magic and there are only a few times I thought I was experiencing it but that was only after a number of glasses of champagne. I paid for that magic the next day. I’m not saying that we don’t experience magical moments as adults; what I am saying is that we no longer possess the magic.

When we become parents or even blessed to be around children, we get to witness the magic again-seeing life again for the first time through their eyes. However, I sometimes think we hurry our children along to the next step in life too soon. This leads to a gradual loss of the magic. I could hear myself today in Wal Mart calling after William Michael and Sidda-slow down, pay attention, echoing the sound of a magic-less adult.

Sometimes it’s best if we adults slow down, let them be little (as someone wisely said today). Jump in the mud puddle with them. Be part of the magic show because sooner or later it will disappear.