Guest writer ShiftFrequency February 23 2014
What Do You Mean You Don’t Believe In Faeries?
Faeries aren’t real, you say. They’re just characters in nursery tales we put aside when we graduated to second grade and had everything all figured out. That’s what I thought too, grounded grownup that I am… until I met one. Up to that day my only prior experience had been financial transactions with The Tooth Fairy: leave a discarded baby tooth under your pillow, receive money. That worked great until I ran out of baby teeth. After my dental cash cow died, faeries were no longer on my radar at all, ever.
Despite my insouciance, a faery had been watching me for many years in human time. She followed me as I fed the wild birds every day, no matter how cold it was or how deep the snow. She watched as I conversed with bees and dutifully carried spiders out of the house instead of smacking them with a newspaper. She lives in my riotous lavender bed and watched me plant fields of wildflowers, play nice with mice and snakes, and I guess at some point she decided I was worthy enough. I felt her presence in a vague way but had no idea I was being tested, and I passed anyway.
To take visible form was very difficult for her, the Fae are uncomfortable in our dimension, and for good reason; to them we are haughty, lumbering creatures who bustle about, bristling with self-importance, believing we are far too sophisticated to engage with magical beings. We wrap our lives around so many misconceptions that we really cannot see the forest for the tree spirits.