Magic Tricks

My daughters love music. I have introduced them to my favorite Broadway show soundtracks and thanks to their older siblings they are up on the current music teenagers have on their iPods. There is nothing quite like hearing my three year old sing the lyric, "I crash my car into the bridge! I don't care!" at the top of her little lungs.

Sunday night I was driving home with the girls in the back seat. We had on the pop station their big siblings request whenever they are in the car. One of their favorite songs came on and they asked me to raise the volume. I hit the plus button on my steering wheel and the music got louder.

"How did you do that?" my six year old asked.
I almost started to explain the logistics of what I had done but then I decided to go in another direction."It's magic." I told her.
"Are you serious?" she asked.
"Yup."
"Do it again!"
"See." I waved my hand up while I turned the volume up more, then waved my hand in the opposite direction while I turned the volume down. I repeated the moves alternately while the girls squealed with delight.
"That is so awesome!"

My heart was exploding. The girls were fully convinced there was magic taking place. It reminded me of the moment in the play Peter Pan when Peter turns to the audience and asks them, "Do you believe in fairies?" then begs that they applaud in order to revive Tinkerbell. The children in those audiences believe it is their applause that brings Tinkerbell back to life.

As much as I loved that they were so easily convinced I felt a pang of guilt for misleading them. Eventually, I explained that I was pushing a button on the wheel in order to control the volume. They weren't disappointed. In fact, I think they admired that I took them on that ride.

When we got home I showed the girls the button on the wheel. They both wanted to "control" the music by waving their hand and I obliged by pushing the buttons up or down. Knowing that they were creating the magic seemed to be just as thrilling as believing it was real.

There is magic all around us if only we believe.

Audra Spinning

Audra is spinning. She is my sixteen month old daughter. My husband, stepkids Thomas and Nora and I are watching her in our family room. We have just eaten pancakes. It is Saturday morning and Audra is spinning. There is music playing. The tune has a driving beat that is thrilling to her because she carries a grin that suggests there is no place she'd rather be. Audra is also falling. After to two three spins she topples over and lands on her bottom. As soon as she can she is back on her feet and the spinning begins, again. An addition to the spin and fall routine occurs when Audra spins, falls, stands and then attempts to walk a few steps. She teeters to one side with her arms outstretched. She tries another step and her body repeats the action on the opposite side. She falls, stands up and spins again. She is delighted. My husband and I look at eachother with a marvel that non verbally expresses, "Oh my God, we made her. Oh my God, we made her and Oh my God, can you believe we made her?" Every time her butt hits the ground Bill smiles, I laugh and Thomas and Nora giggle as if they had no idea the punchline was coming. Yes, Audra is spinning and her entire being is set to accomplish that task. When she falls she is not disappointed. Falling is part of the act. It holds the same value as the standing up and turning north, south, east and west. On it, she places no judgement. Thomas and Nora's protective instincts cause them to sit on the floor and create a barricade with their arms. The intention is to prevent her from hitting the ground but soon they realize she has no desire to be kept from falling. Their arms become a ring showcasing her movements and in a beautiful moemnt of grace they don't force their will upon her. Audra is still spinning and smiling and now she has added squealing to her repetoire. I've gone from laughing to holding my breath and fighting back tears. Usually one sees art-like beauty when they visit a gallery. The day is planned and they've paid their way. I had no plan to witness aching beauty on a Saturday in my living room. She is poetry, metaphor. She is an example in motion of what what we would hope to be. Determined. Joyous. Inspirational. Free.