i don’t remember finding out out there was no santa. i do remember realizing that i would never have a twin sister. i do remember having to come to terms with the reality that i would never be mary from the secret garden. i do remember flying as a child and the wistful dream of living in the clouds.
some realities must be accepted. it is a biological impossibility that i will ever have a twin sister. but the interesting thing about wanting to live among the clouds is that, well, we often do. fog is around plenty often and we don’t think anything of it.
sometimes when we get too close to things the grass is not so green, the clouds are not so white. only when we’re far enough away does it look like what we want. then we get it and we either don’t notice or think there’s been some mistake, and go chasing off after something else that looks more correct.
we have to be clear about what things we want look like from the inside, not the outside. once we’re in there we won’t be looking from the outside anymore, and if we’re not careful we won’t recognize it at all. (it can get a little foggy in there sometimes ;)