I thought the bottle was magic. It worked every time. If I was scared, carrying the random worry from the darkness that any night can bring, my mother would put me in my pajamas, brush my hair, then wash it with Johnson’s Baby shampoo. No more tears it said, right on the label. And it was right. Hair dry, tucked safely into bed, I was no longer afraid, or scared, or worried. I was saved. No more tears. Pure magic.
Years later, I realized it wasn’t the shampoo, but my mother. It wasn’t magic, but love. (But maybe that’s what love is – pure magic – that will always save us.)
In the shower today, I was feeling a bit anxious about the world. Covid. War. So much to be worried about. I washed my hair. Dried it. Went to my studio, walking past the words that I placed there intentionally. “The answer is still, and again, love.” I need to see them. Remind myself that I have been loved. I am still loved. I have so much love to give. Cheeks dry, above a large grin, I begin to create. Whatever you do today, do it with all the magic that love can bring. And we will be saved.