Dear friend,
Last night, my Caretaker picked bluebells for me and left them on my desk, so that I could start my day feeling loved and happy.
But I did not notice them.
I started my day focused on the latest update, impatiently checking the impact of the events The Merry Fairy takes part in. Spelkollektivet got 24 hours of front page featuring on Steam, and the Summer Postcard is such an amazingly well-planned event. Could these actions bring me more sales? Will I get more positive reviews and enough visibility so that my game becomes popular?
These thoughts robbed me of the joy of noticing these beautiful flowers. And I caught myself on the verge of forgetting why I made The Merry Fairy in the first place.
Many of us suffer, but we are not sick. We are misplaced. The magic of nature, including our very own nature, is denied. In a time when we can understand the abundance and enchantment of our planet like never before, too many of us are forced to live in square gray boxes, to prioritize meaningless jobs, and to live a stressful life.
When I started to imagine The Merry Fairy, I was trapped in a tiny gray box myself. I was starting to understand the depth of my diagnosis, cPTSD, and I was conjuring the courage of a lifetime struggle to find my home. I spent the most frightening years of COVID in a tiny windowless closet converted into an office space, and imagined an enchanted window that would open into a wild, untouched forest, where the trees were old and clad in musk, and with crowns so thick that the sun and rain would barely get a chance to touch the ground. This forest was safe and endlessly peaceful. During my darkest moments, it soothed my weary, dreadful thoughts.
Slowly, timidly, almost unconsciously, I started to describe it. I wrote down fragments of it in my newly started journal, a practice that felt dangerous somehow. "I am not a writer," I thought. "I cannot draw or doodle," my ego whispered, holding on to a lifetime of believing the fears of others. But despite that, I continued. This dream and practice build up my courage to leave everything behind and find my home in Fairyland. It turns out that I can do pretty much everything I set my mind to, and so can you, my friend.
Journaling helped me understand and embrace my magic. I now know that I was never sick, just misplaced and misinformed about my magical abilities. In the forest, away from the modern, rushed life, I feel my wings healing and growing, and I feel my creativity becoming bolder. Since I moved to Fairyland, I was able to build The Merry Fairy, even though my entire life, I believed that I was not a creative person and that I would never make my own game.
I conjured my courage to build The Merry Fairy by journaling, but I opened up The Merry Fairy to you because I seek friends. This is my little world, my tiny desk, my enchanted forest, and sometimes the modern world makes me feel alone. But the forest always reminds me that it is not so. I know there are many magical souls out there, like me, who love nature, who create beautiful, nurturing things, who might be misplaced, like I have been, but who nonetheless sense their magic.
Which brings me to what I had forgotten to say since I celebrated the Grand Opening of The Merry Fairy:
Thank you!
Thank you for being here with me, thank you for visiting my enchanted little cottage, and thank you for embarking on the bold quest of rediscovering your magic through scrapbook journaling, together with me. Sometimes I focus too much on arbitrary markers of success, and I forget what I wanted in the first place: kindred spirits who can become my friends. Thank you for visiting my cottage, thank you for becoming a part of my life, and thank you for inspiring me!