So,
yesterday, I visited my uncle’s village. It’s a beautiful small group of houses
hidden in the mountains. It has a lake not far from his house, and a beautiful
lonely church standing a bit aside from the main village, as if watching the
people from above. I am more of a sea person, but I kind of enjoy nature in all
its forms… If it ever came to a choice between mountains and the sea, I‘d
definitely go with the sea option. Yet, nature amazes me in every possible way.
Laying in the grass, watching the sky and admiring the lake while the only
music around me comes from the bird singing and the winds soft whisper in the
tree leaves… it’s like a fairytale! It’s freedom!
As a city
child, I ‘ve never had had the opportunity of spending hours running in the
wild, exploring caves and forests or swimming on a lake – possibly searching
for all sort of magical creatures and treasures hiding out there. On the
contrary I was spending my time reading books about unicorns and fairies,
warlocks and witches and dreaming of the moment that this world of magic would
finally open its doors to me! I believed that, just like Alice, I would drop
into a rabbit’s hole or maybe a fairy would fly one night through my window and
take me to a magical place hidden between the stars. Sometimes, I even imagined
finding a dragon and with him I‘d travel the world or sailing all the way
through the sunset with a golden ship made of sunshine. God knows how many
years I‘ve waited for my Hogwarts letter to arrive – wondering what might have
happened to my owl or how I wished I ‘d discover a wardrobe leading to Narnia.
Day by
day, I was adding more and more heroes in my collection. So many, that I could
not possibly write about all of them here. It was as if the letters were rising
from the white pages of my books forming weird bridges between fantasy and
reality. One day I was wearing a mask and a bed sheet pretending to be a great
swordsman like Zorro and the next one I was off to an adventure with D’Artanian, Luke Skywalker or the Black Tulip! Oh, and those great trips with the Black Pearl and vicious
pirates while plowing across the seven seas? What could I possibly say about
them? Funny how fast a princess can turn
into an assassin or an avenger when you are a child , is it not?
I am a
grown up girl now. I know, or more likely I got used to the idea that such
fairytales and wonderful creatures don’t exist in the real world. I’ve learnt
that humans can’t grow wings and that horses cannot fly. I ‘ve learnt all the
rules of Chemistry and Physics – with a part of me still hopping that somewhere
in there lies the answer of why we can’t find all the wonders we imagine. I
also became fond of new heroes. I dreamt of having a chat with Leonardo DaVinci
or Newton. I imagined of what it would be like to have a cup of tea with Queen
Victoria in the Buckingham palace. I started to dress like Lady Dianna – adding
class and style into my everyday life. My whole life I was an undercover
cosplayer of all the heroes – both real and not real – who made an impact to my
personality. I‘ve met them all. I know them all so well. And still, I carry
each and every one of them in my heart.
Even now,
even though it’s been a long long time since I started realising that the Disney princesses where only beautiful
drawings with an inspiring message, a part of me denies to accept that all this
colourful childhood was only a fraud of writers and directors who played with
my mind. I admit that I am still looking forward to the next Disney or Barbie
movie. And that the last few years I became a Viking who could tame dragons and
a Celtic princess who was extremely talented on archery. I’ve spent a lot of
afternoons with the company of young Merlin and Arthur (sometimes making
research about the whole Arthurian legend and trying to separate facts from
myth with help from the Knight Malory) I laughed and cried with them, sometimes
both at the same time to be honest. Then a dear friend of me helped me make an
acquaintance with a new kind of Sherlock Holmes. Having read the original tales
from Arthur Conan Doyle, I was surprised seeing the weird and vagarious hero being even
weirder and an extreme “high functional sociopath” placed in the modern world.
At first, it was not pleasant for me to see the hero I’ve always imagined
sitting by the fire, using cellphones and acting all crazy-er that the usual
Sherlock.
Until
now, all I‘ve done was mumbling about my childhood’s and present dreams and
illusions. You may wonder “what was the point of even reading all of this”?
Well, I can’t help but notice that the last few years children are lacking
their childishness. They don’t dream anymore. They don’t go to adventures. They
don’t want to spend a day on the wild. They just want stand in front of a
computer screen scrolling their way out of their problems. Watching my baby
cousin handling a tablet yesterday with such ease it made me wonder: Is
technology starting to invade our DNA? We made technology to conquer the world.
Instead it starts to consume our lives, stealing our moments and dreams. Most
children don’t ask dolls for Christmas anymore only for the new iPhone. That
may be quite normal for a teenager, but do you really feel it’s normal for a
child? I never wanted a stupid cellphone when I was young. I wanted a unicorn
plushie. Don’t you feel like the heroes we so loved are left forgotten and
covered in dust while vulgar and precocious Antonella (From the Patty TV show)
and more weird creatures (aka Monster high dolls holding coffins and stuff)
steal their show? Since when vulgar is a replacement for elegance? Why bring a child – the very source of life -
close to death by giving them creepy looking dolls? Your kids still have the ability of dreaming. Just teach them the way.
It’s true
that even though I have spent countless nights searching among the stars I
never found a way to Neverland and that, at least until now, I ‘ve never found
a secret door leading to Wonderland. Still, sometimes, a voice, like a whisper
in my mind tells me that maybe this little secret path does exist. If not, how
could people write about all those thing? Was Tolkien crazy? I seriously doubt
it. I came to discover that maybe this entrance hides somewhere in this world.
And if we cannot literally cross paths with it within a magic cave or an
enchanted forest we will definitely find it inside our hearts. I know how to dream. I
know how to grow wings. I’ve learnt
how to fly. Do you?
-E.T.
(all rights reserved)