The sun was shining low on the western horizon, and there was a light sprinkle of rain after a heavy downpour. Conditions were perfect for a rainbow, so I poured myself a glass of wine and went out on the front porch, which faces east, and waited for the rainbow to appear. I was not disappointed. A few minutes later a complete, unbroken 180 degree rainbow arched across the eastern sky.
I was thrilled. I had been sipping my wine and muttering little prayers to myself that, should a rainbow appear, a certain wish I've had almost all my life would come true. I've wished that same wish, or a variation of it, many times under similar "if-this-or-that-happens-my-wish-will-come-true" circumstances. Well, guess what? After all these years, I'm still wishing it.
Yup. I'm a magical thinker. The term "magical thinker" sounds as if it should be a good thing, but it's almost always used in a dismissive, derogatory way. Flaky is a word I've heard often to describe those of us who indulge in such modes of thought. Intelligent, informed people do not. But there I was standing on my front porch waiting for a rainbow, and my dreams to come true.
So why was I so thrilled if I've wasted so many precious moments in wishful thinking? Firstly, because a rainbow is a beautiful natural phenomenon that doesn't happen every day. That's why I ran across the street, glass of wine in hand, exhorting passers-by to look upward and behold a wondrous thing. Most of them were thankful I pointed it out, but there were also a couple of people who looked up very briefly, responded with a banal "uh huh" or "oh yeah," and then continued on their mindless way. As for me, I gazed at that rainbow until it disappeared.
I can't see a rainbow without being inspired. Apart from its beauty, it is surely one of the most storied of natural wonders. It is the return of light after a stormy night, a place where you'll find a pot of gold, a bridge between heaven and earth, the royal road of Iris the Greek goddess, the necklace called
Brisingamen of Freya the Norse goddess, and the heavenly sign that told Noah the flood was over at last.
So now we know that a rainbow is created by the refraction of light through the prism of multiple raindrops into the seven colours of the spectrum. This fact does not make seeing a rainbow any less magical for me. Indeed, it only enhances my appreciation and understanding of it. Upon first sight of a multi-coloured archway across the sky, my eyes still widen, and a smile still crosses my face before I have time to think at all, magically or otherwise. I'm always left in awe.
Sure, I've been disappointed many times by obsessively associating every natural event to some aspect of my life. But for a few moments I'm spending time in another world - a world of natural wonder, myth and legend. I have no problem with that. And thank goddess for the way the mind filters memories. The disappointments are almost always forgotten, but the joyful recollection of the rainbow remains.
As for the rainbow that prompted these notes, I will always recall the place and the time, because it was significant - to
me. I'm finally feeling truly at home in my new digs, and have much to look forward to. The future looks bright, and I'm grateful that the Universe agrees. For now, at least, all the pieces seem to fit, and
everything's coming together. If noticing that my inner and outer worlds intersect so perfectly for a brief moment in time makes me a magical thinker, well then, so be it.
- G.P.
A small child sat with her father across from me on the subway train. She appeared to be about three years old. I had just rushed onto the train and was hot and flustered. Although I was a harried sight as I fumbled through my pack sack for the book I was reading, the little girl paid me no heed. No doubt she regarded me as just another old lady of no consequence. Boring for sure. 
