i just finished watching Pan’s Labyrinth after coming home to an empty apartment after a long long day at work. Losing my voice and got a mean headache. Poor Ophelia. She got a raw deal. Stuck in Franco’s Spain surrounded by murder murder murder kill kill kill. So she escaped into fairy world and magic. Got lost in the woods where the guerrillas were hiding. And in the end she died but her last thoughts were of the fantasy world and so that is where her spirit went on to.
I don’t have any elaborate belief of the things beyond this world. The science of nature feels like magic to me often enough to think that there’s no need to believe in gods. No need to personify the moon, the sun, the ocean, the sky, the earth. They are powerful and relatable as they are and I feel their forces everyday.
But then again, I pray. Most times to God. I pray just about everyday in some form or another. When I imagine my prayers, they float upwards like dandelion seeds. They travel anywhere in an instant though when I picture them they are slow and drifting. When I pray for someone in particular I imagine they find their way directly to their hearts and land there like miniature astronauts on the moon, bouncing up and down on the surface of his or her chest. Something like that. The point is, it physically reaches them. Maybe my prayers go straight to God first in a little red drawstring pouch and God blesses them. Maybe then God opens the pouch by its string and turns it upside down into the world like emptying lint from a pocket. i think of my prayers like little tiny pieces, flecks of love without shine or grace. Just a drifting thing that wants to make itself useful. A way for my heart to mingle with the science of nature without getting in the way.