As a child I loved to watch the Wizard of Oz every time it was on television. For obvious reasons of course. I was facinated by the horses that changed colors as they trotted, the transition Dorothy, the Scarecrow, Tin man, and the Lion made after their elaborate makeovers. Even Toto got a puppicure. I was deathly afraid of the wicked witch and her flying monkeys. I’m surprised I didn’t have nightmares after my eyes were unglued from those scary creatures. Magical color-changing horses, magic wands and magic shoes were the only things that stayed with me in those days.
Fast forward to the adolescent years when watching the Wizard of Oz became a story about hope. It left me with feelings of euphoria giving me the illusion that with a little magic and strong desires, all of your dreams could come true. As the years went by and as the Wizard of Oz aired on television, I would watch it again and again seeing something different from the same movie every time I viewed it.
One year as I watched, I begin to see similarities between the characters in the movie and the characters in my current reality. I was amazed to see how each scene played out just as I had experienced them in life. Instead of flying monkeys and munchkins, I was surrounded by annoying debt and people whose only goal was to set traps for my demise. And the challenges that Dorothy faced as she desperately searched for a way home reminded me of my struggle to find where I fit in this world. It made me question my purpose in life. Will I ever find that place called “home”? That place where I longed to be fulfilled?
As long as we breathe, we learn.
I believe we are forever children in this thing called life. No matter how old we get, the things around us take on different meaning as we mature allowing us to rediscover life and it’s meaning anew. Same movie, different me.
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