I am with my parents at the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario this week. The Festival does a variety of Shakespeares, modern playes, and musicals. Tonight I watched Peter Pan.
Done well, and played through the eyes of Sir James Barrie, the writer; it was an interesting adaptation. Scrims were used to separate reality from narration. A thin veil showed us his dreams and visions, but in reality, Sir James poured into his story the heart of what’s left of a little boy who had a troublesome childhood from which he wished he could escape.
I learned something by watching this play, and that is this: I do believe in faeries. I believe in them because faeries are that which is unexplained. And that a thing is unexplained does not mean that it is not.
It simply means that it hasn’t yet been discovered. As our world grows smarter, we lose our faith in faeries, feeling quite confident in those things of which we are certain. But in reality, our loss of faith in the being of faeries simply erodes our sense of wonder, and therefore removes our strife to find truth.
He who says a thing cannot be would do well to learn that, instead, it is simply that which has not YET been.
