“I don’t have magic inside of me,” Jeb says with a wide, gap-toothed smile.  His body is electric with giddiness as he utters this denial.

“Well, you’re smiling so big that I know that you don’t really believe that.  You know you have magic inside,” I reply.

“I can’t help it.  My body won’t let me stop smiling,” he says, busting an even larger smile.  He is brimming with happiness as he renounces his power – obviously pure lip service.

“That’s because your body knows, Jeb.  It knows the truth.  Magic is everywhere and you have it inside of you.”

Two geckos chirp simultaneously in the dark of Jeb’s room where we lie in his bed. “Now that’s magic,” he says.

We are quiet for a moment.  The nightlight illumins his face.  I look out the screen window above the bed and see clouds moving slowly, lit by moonlight.

“Magic is bravery,” Jeb offers.

“Ahh, yes.  That’s true.  And what’s bravery?”

“Facing your fears.”

I love that he knows this.  I’ve been teaching him his entire six years.  Selfishly, it’s just a way to remind myself.

I met an AT&T rep on the phone today whose last name was Warrior.  Now that’s a hint.  And I bet he still sometimes forgets.

We’re all warriors remembering the magic.  The power of our thoughts.  The freedom in our choice.

Sometimes it can be so frightening to truly express ourselves.

Flirting with annihilation, I keep coming to these keys.