Be Still, My Beating Heart

The tragic truth was, they got it all wrong.

It’s not “all you need is love,” and it never was. People need a lot more than love. They need to eat and drink. They need shelter when it’s cold, and shade when it’s hot. They need adequate immune systems and properly working biological systems.

But, that’s not what they got wrong. The sentence was what was wrong. Somehow, through centuries of progress, evolution, ambition, creativity, whimsy, and absolutely divine hope the wisdom of the world had been mixed up. The message had gotten a bit confused. Convoluted. The universe of man and woman had played a game of telephone with it; each generation whispering into the ears of the next what it had heard. And each time, something was added, or tweaked, or removed. And so, by the time it was whispered by those infamous insects, love was turned on its head.

It was way too far gone.

~ ~ ~

When magic was first discovered, people mistook it for MSG. They claimed it wasn’t real or natural. They thought it was an overcoat, something draped over reality to make it seem better (or worse) than it actually was. It took what was and pretended it into something else. And, rest assured, that “something else” was powerful and elegant and full of the things that would certainly become legend. But people were always sure that it would be over one day, and that magic would disappear as merely a fantasy. A fairy tale.

As magic became more closely monitored, people began to attribute their daily misfortunes to it. And so, people who came in contact with magic started complaining of headaches, and mild nausea. Complaints of irritability and irrationality popped up wherever there was an exposure to magic. People now kept their eyes open at all times. They examined every one of their realities to make sure they were pure.

Anti-magic policies started showing up at workplaces and in public arenas. The army officially frowned upon the use of magic, but made use of its qualities to ensure the loyalty of their soldiers. Pharmaceutical companies started producing drugs to assist the bereaved – victims of magic abuse. Spiritualists and naturopaths provided alternative treatments. Psychological studies were funded by the government to analyze the long term effects of magic on subjects from different backgrounds. Historians and archaeologists joined hands in an attempt to catalogue how and when magic was first found and utilized.

As time went on, parts of magic were isolated, and understood. Different academics and scholars found names and categories, and drew some reliable correlations. Modern science began to recognize that magic was far more complicated than originally thought. Even though it had been commonly understood under one label for as long as people could remember, it was actually a series of complex phenomena that overlapped over time. Advocates for a simpler understanding gave rise to alternate theories. World epidemics heightened awareness of the thing, and conferences were called while political movements rallied. Eventually, everyone either claimed they understood it or didn’t care about it. Everyone had built up an immunity to it – even the extremists who still claimed to embrace it.

~ ~ ~

Finally free from magic, this world didn’t do so well. It seemed as though, just as they had overcome it completely, other ills started popping up. Depression, rage, rebellion, confusion, hopelessness, meaninglessness. The world was a far more dangerous, difficult place than they had realized. Having spent all of their time minimalizing magic, these other epidemics ran rampant.

“What were we to do?” their governments and their scientists said. “We only have so many resources, and so much time. Magic was clearly the worst of all the ills.” And it was true, they did have pills for headaches now. A new press release confirmed the growing confidence of society’s dominance:

“We do not know why we are in such a sorry state of affairs now, but there was a time when we were plagued by magic. While it sounds like a buzz word and a fairy tale now, there was a time when it was a real force in our lives. Thanks to our continual efforts and diligence as a people, we are no longer plagued by it. It is now only a minor inconvenience that our doctors can medicate for and our counsellors understand. Given time, we are certain that things like depression, confusion, and hopelessness will all be similarly contained.”

As years went by, the world got worse. They finally found a way to manage depression, but meaninglessness increased. They finally found a way to manage hopelessness, but not without raising the levels of blind fundamentalism. The world was not content the way it was.

Why was it built this way? Why did the universe throw one ill after another after another. No matter how technical the hospitals, people kept dying. No matter how skilled the workers, buildings still broke down. No matter how much money families had, they still hated each other. No matter what intentions lay between friends, disputes always arose.

Most said the world had grown cold to them. That they were abandoned, or that they were forsaken, or that they were otherwise doomed to live their lives conquering a disease or malcontent that was worse than the last. What else could it be? That seemed to be all existence had been for as long as they could remember.

~ ~ ~

There was a boy who held an ancient treasure. He had gotten it in his travels, and had tucked it safely away in his bedroom. A small cylindrical bottle with a tough-to-twist-off cap. Inside, he imagined, was the last remaining real Magic left in the world.

He wouldn’t let his parents or friends know that he had it. They would laugh at him and tell him that there was no such thing as magic. That was just an old bottle of pills, they’d say. So he hid it.

Sure, privately, deep down he must have known that they couldn’t be magic. Magic was not found in bottles. But he knew what they made him feel like. Taking one of those pills made his heart flutter. It made it beat strangely, and erratically. It made him light-headed. And something of that felt strangely familiar. Normal.

And such a feeling could only be magic, he mused. Nothing else in the world compared.

~ ~ ~

“You all need love”