I believe in a lot of things. A LOT.
I believe in:
1. An afterlife. I have always believed firmly that there IS something waiting for us after we die here. I have moments where I FEEL the presence of a loved one who has passed and it is so palpable it’s almost like I can touch them. So, I believe it. I don’t need to see it, I just feel it. I know it.
2. Family. If I didn’t know without a shadow of a doubt that my roots are firmly planted in the rich, emerald soils of Ireland, I might think that I was Italian. Because family is probably the single most important thing in my life. I couldn’t breathe without my children. And, well, you all saw what happened when Shawn died/didn’t die. And yes, the family I grew up with, my parents and siblings, are still very important to me. Especially my little nieces and nephews. But my own family, the one I created together with Shawn. I would die for them.
3. The power of music. I love music. I love to attach feelings and emotions to events based on what I was listening to at that moment in time. I love finding a piece of music that feels like the artist or composer was speaking directly to me. I love turning on my favourite “mixed tape” compilation of arias and just getting lost in it. I love old composers and long dead storytellers. I love that there are certain pieces of music that can and do still move me to tears even after twenty years of listening to them. I love that certain movements feel like they heal me.
4. Books. Stories. Words. I believe in these. Strongly.
5. Magic. Yes, I am a 40 year old woman and I believe in magic. There are things in this world (and WE ALL KNOW THIS) that cannot be explained. Sometimes, there is simply magic. How else do you explain the fact that the smell of the top of the head of a newborn baby can heal you. Or that chocolate fixes sadness. Or that sometimes you can touch someone’s hand and literally feel the sparks flying. Or that a walk through the woods can make you feel like the trees are alive. I believe in magic. I just think we get older and forget to look for it.
I have so many things I believe in. Which makes me wonder sometimes:
why is the hardest thing to believe in, myself?
Nuala Reilly: A Writer's Journey 