Mystical Roommates

I believe in magic. No, I'm not making that up and I'm not kidding. I really do believe in magic. No one can convince me it doesn't exist. I see it constantly and as a child was always a bit confused as to the why of no one else noticing these same unique moments. Fortunately, I was born into a family with an amazing, witty, warm hearted Mom who also saw the occasional magical moment. Humor lives in the overall personality of my large, prolific, Irish Clan of a family, as does an active imagination and a decidely healthy Story Teller gene. We all have it, some more than others. Perhaps that Story Teller gene is responsible for some of us recognizing magic here and there. For whatever reason, I received an especially strong application of that genetic tendency.


I joke often with friends about House Elf activity. I'm sure you've either heard of it, or you've experienced it. You know....your car keys mysteriously disappear and are eventually discovered in some absolutely bizarre, unexpected location that you swear up and down you were not responsible for. Socks disappear in the dryer on a regular basis. Pretty, shiny things like rings, watches, earrings and cell phones, or important things like wallets also unexpectedly disappear for weeks at a time, only to surface, out of the blue right slap in the middle of the livingroom carpet that you just finished vaccuuming earlier the same day. No way on Earth could the jewelry items have escaped the relentless suction and rotating rollers of the vaccuum.

How, then, do they suddenly materialize in the very middle of the freshly cleaned carpet? If this sounds like first hand experience to you, you have a good eye...it is my first hand experience and yes, that has happened to me, jewelry, vaccuum and all, quite recently. What causes this? I have an answer for you. It's Elf Activity. Again, no, I'm not kidding. You don't see any exclamation point on the "not kidding" part because I'm serious! Okay, that last did require an exclamation point, just for a little extra emphasis, but I'm still not kidding.

This has happened to me throughout my life, the mysterious disappearing items, quite often of the shiny, sparkly variety and then the equally mysterious reappearance of those items in unlikely locations. I suspect it is the Wee Folk. Do I feel this to be true because I'm of predominantly Irish descent? It might be a factor. There is also Native American Indian heritage, Cherokee, in my family tree. Those are two very strong, mystical races who believe(d) in the natural cycles of Mother Earth, respecte(d) the Four Elements of Earth, Fire, Water and Air, and also believe(d) in the presence of magical beings. The Irish call them the Wee Folk. "The Cherokee call them Nunne hi (forgive me for not being able to place the proper diacritic pronunciation marks on that word - blogspot word processing tools do not accomodate that at this time), or the 'immortals', and believed they lived near running water sources"...springs, waterfalls, rivers and lakes. (The Folklore of Faeries, Gary R. Varner, AuthorsDen)

I live in East Tennessee, which is graced with endless fresh, fast running water sources. Much of the geological makeup of this area is sandstone and limestone, which not only provide a purification process for water as it trickles through the sediment and layers of the aquifers, but also harbor quartz rock crystal. Quartz crystal, my friends, is a conductor of energy. It is scientifically proven to have a measurable electrical signal of very precise frequency (Wikipedia), which is why it is commonly used to regulate clocks and wristwatches.

Can you tell I've given this topic a lot of thought? Why did the Native Americans believe that the Nunne hi inhabited the land surrounding fast running, fresh water sources? Why did the subsequent Irish immigrants who came and settled this area also believe that the Wee Folk were in evidence here? Could it be possible that back then, when there were no machines to mask sounds or deaden our natural senses, that Native Man and other races who respected the Old Ways might have been more in tune with the cycles of Nature than we are able to achieve today? Could it be that the surrounding geological makeup of certain regions provide(d) a frequency that, perhaps, thinned the doorway between dimensions and allowed those with certain sensitivity to "see" these beings? In olden days, this ability was called having "The Sight" in the Smoky Mountains and in the Old Country - in this case, Ireland.

These are just my own ruminations on the topic. I can't prove any of it, but I do see some connecting points in my theory and in many of the ones I have researched over the years. I know that I have regularly experienced those odd moments of personal items disappearing and reappearing that convince me there is more afoot than my modern age eyes and senses can quite grasp. So, in my own unique way, I choose to be open to the possibility that the Wee Folk exist. When something disappears in my home, I've learned to be patient, maybe have a lighthearted conversation or two with the Invisible Ones who may be using that item for a bit, and eventually it will reappear in one of those random, unlikely locations. The occurrences are so extremely odd that it tickles my sense of humor to no end.

When I lived in a different apartment about 6 years ago, I had a platinum ring that I wore daily. One afternoon I took it off, as I did nightly, and placed it in the little crystal bowl that held the few pieces of jewelry I wear daily. That crystal bowl was in my bedroom, on an antique buffet that doubled as a chest of drawers. The next morning that particular platinum ring was missing. I looked high and low, scoured the area around the chest where the crystal bowl sat, retraced my steps, searched the clothes I had worn the prior day, even searched my car and the walkway leading to my front door. The ring was nowhere to be found.

I acceded to my invisible roommates and stopped searching for the ring, letting them know they were welcome to wear it, admire it, play with it, do whatever they liked and that I looked forward to having it returned when they were finished with it. You may be reading this and thinking that I am a bit more than eccentric. If so, that's okay. You probably have some habits that I would find curious and that you'd probably not be so bold as to write about in public forum; that's what makes us all unique and beautiful.

Getting back to my story about this platinum ring, when I began packing to move from that particular apartment, one afternoon I moved a bar stool from a corner where it had been placed and not moved since the day I moved into that unit. I had never sat in that bar stool, had never placed anything there, nor had anyone else. It occupied an awkward spot in the dining room that made it impossible to sit comfortably, so that bar stool just filled that corner, untouched and unmoved. That day I pulled it out and sneezed from the resulting cloud of dust (okay, I said it sat there, untouched & unmoved...I'm not that vigilant about dusting unused furniture). I lifted the stool to carry it to another spot and saw a sparkle on the cushion.

You guessed it....right slap in the center of the bar stool seat cushion was my long lost platinum ring. Remember, please, that I said that barstool was placed in that awkward spot the day I moved into that apartment and then wasn't shifted a single inch until 2 years later when I was preparing to move - there was no logical explanation for how that ring could have found its way to that spot on its own. I know I didn't place it there. In fact, the day I moved into that apartment, I had yet to purchase that platinum ring so it couldn't have been misplaced there during the moving in process.

This little scenario has played itself out over and over throughout my lifetime with various shiny, sparkly items. I can only surmise that the Wee Folk who now have drifted into our personal living space become bored within the confines of an apartment environment and seek to entertain themselves with something pretty. I have rarely "lost" something of this nature permanently. Indeed, I find that as long as I acknowledge the item is merely being borrowed and graciously encourage the enjoyment of the borrowing, the item generally reappears fairly soon. The entertaining, often delightful part of the process is the humor that is employed in the reappearance of these items. They're crafty, the Wee Folk, with how they return things, choosing the most intriguing, exasperating and unexpected moments and locations to drop the item back into my dimension.

Because I see this as a strong possibility and because I firmly believe in the existence and truth of other mystical beings and magical occurrences, I find that I exude a lightness of Spirit that is attractive to others. Perhaps they recognize the simple joy that springs from embracing concepts that we most often abandon with childhood years. Possibly they appreciate that I am willfully, unabashedly and without shame, declaring that magic does exist. It is certainly a bold statement to make and many will read this and shake their heads in dismay that I, a serious writer, would choose to embrace such concepts, not to mention write about them in public forum.

I have to throw my two cents in here and tell you that yes, I am a serious writer, but that serious respect for my craft does not prohibit me from expressing, in writing, the beauty that I see in the possibility of magic still existing. In fact, I feel it demands that I write certain truths, be they delightful, mystical and magical, or more prosaic, occasionally uncomfortable topics such as grief managment, or droll ones such as the refusal to follow accepted rules of writing. My writing style changes with my moods and today, I felt like giving voice to my mystical, spiritual, Story Teller side.

In the forgotten mists of time, we were a different people. We moved with the seasons, respected the land, embraced the cycles of Nature and, I believe, had much clearer vision to see the realms and dimensions that we are now, sadly, nearly blind and numb to. A few of us, however, retain some small divining spark that allows us to still sense tiny indications of magic. Some of us notice what others claim as common forgetfulness and/or being careless with possessions to actually be the proof that mystical beings and magic are still afoot.

This topic was prompted by a recent conversation with a girlfriend in social media format that gave me "fizzies" (happy, warm, bubbly inside-ness) in abundance, as we went on a virtual visit of the Emerald City and took a detour to an enchanted dragon cave. It was a delightful bit of whimsy designed to lift this friend's spirits as she approaches a small hurdle along her Life Path, but it also was a conscious, intentional nod from my inner Spirit to hers, recognizing that yes, magic does exist, still, in both of us. In that moment, merely having that lovely conversation carried the spark of magic strongly enough to make us both smile, not just that evening, but in my case, well into the following day. This topic was also prompted by another friend, this time male, who is forever being visited and teased by his particular troop of House Elves - they like his keys, his cell phone, and most recently, his wallet. This friend recognizes the enchanted part of my Spirit and allows me to speak freely of magic and mystical possibilities. The two occurrences, with both friends, spaced so closely together in time, nudged me just enough to sit down and tap out these words.

Magic, these days, is an elusive element. It slips teasingly just beyond our fingertips, most often eluding our grasp, wafting lazily beyond reach to lure us forward, to continue searching...to continue dreaming...to continue BELIEVING. I do not feel the beliefs I espouse here in this blog article are in direct contradiction of my faith in God/Universe/Spirit. I believe that magic and mystical beings are an intrinsic part of the makeup of this beautiful Earth that houses us all, and that all of these things that are seen and not seen with human eyes are all Divinely created. Magic, and mystical things, therefore, although elusive, are all around us, waiting for us to consciously, willfully, joyfully, simply believe. That is when they sparkle most brightly, you know, and when they just might pay you a visit and borrow something pretty. If you welcome that magic and that touch of the mystical with a smile and an open heart, you just might find yourself engaging in sometimes comical, occasionally exasperating, often delightful treasure hunts. The purpose of having mystical roommates these days, I believe, is simply another friendly reminder to us that, just maybe...magic is afoot.

Simply believe...and be joyous!

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