It was only our second family trip to the “Happiest Place on Earth,” but before we stepped through the gates leading to Cinderella’s castle, the “magic” of Disney was fading.
Don’t worry, we had fun. Quite a bit of it actually, mixed in with the stress of crowds, the humid heat, and our search for a healthy meal. The waiting in long lines, sometimes never to get on a ride, was mostly shrugged off as an unfortunate side-effect of this popular place we were visiting.
Those of you who have been there will know that although Disney may strive hard to make its properties the “happiest” on Earth, there are moments of unhappiness experienced by its guests. Over-tired children dissolve into tears, while their over-heated and over-stressed parents try to weigh the probability of arriving at happiness before total melt-down occurs. Disney is a landscape of extremes. Turn one way and you will see joy, turn another and you will witness a face of frustration, or even fear amid a back-drop painted concrete. It’s a place of princess dreams coming true, but only for as long as you’re inside those magical Disney gates.
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of going to Disney, but I was a child of modest means. Disney is for the child who rarely wants for anything. Perhaps that is why I’ve brought my own children to Disney twice, to make up for what I felt I “lacked” as a child. Through my children’s delight, I am able to experience the wonder of Disney I missed when I was young, yet in this atmosphere of opulence, I can’t help feeling lack. Strip away the canned smiles and the concrete megaliths painted to look almost real, and what is left? The masses searching for happiness, including those not there by choice.
If you strip Disney down to energy, you can see how easily one can be left feeling every extreme in each moment. With little personal space, there is ample opportunity for energies to mix and mingle. Disney is not only haunted by the “living,” but also a popular retreat for the”dead” still searching for happiness. Take a ride through “It’s a Small World,” and you’ll feel what I’m talking about.
Not surprisingly for an empath, after my first trip to Disney I returned home completely ungrounded. I had temporarily lost my vital connection to the Earth after spending 5 days in the world of make-believe filled with the energies of thousands of souls.
We all were a bit more prepared for our second trip to Disney. I brought along my crystals and made use of AA Michael’s shield of protection, while my family and I let go of too much expectation. We chose to leave the crowds behind when we were all tired, even if it meant we only put in 5 hours of “fun” at a park. After all, there was always the pool.
The Disney resort pool, where every girl is a “princess” even when donning a tankini and racing (“Princess, no running please.”) her brother to the water-slide for the 5th time in an hour. The tired affect and notable lack of smile on the life-guards’ faces were hard not to miss, despite their kind words. One can’t help but think of those “cast members” who, each day or night, step out of their realities into the world of make-believe. Those thousands of employees whose job it is to make you believe you are living your dream in the “Happiest Place on Earth.” I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend for that long. And, what exactly is this dream of make-believe we’re all taking part in? Why do we keep coming back?
During my 6 days at Walt Disney World this December, I was constantly searching for anything “real.” To be more specific, my energy moved toward Nature in the most natural form I could find it. While my children swam in the turquoise water chlorinated crystal clear, my eyes strayed to the fairy-flight of katydids. When the insects happened to fly into the pool, I was over-come with delight at their misfortune. A rescued “fairy” meant the chance to hold the magic of life on my hand.
Nature, and the reality I could create around it, became my sanctuary for those 6 days. The snow-white egrets poised in patience over the lagoon made me almost forget I was yearning for a Narnian landscape at Christmastime.
I was not alone in my search for Nature’s sanctuary. My husband escaped by running along the lagoon, coming back happier than when he left, with tales of herons and the bald eagle flying over the golf-course. My children spent more time searching for lizards among the rocks and bushes, than they did for Mickey and Snow White.
We unanimously agreed to return to Animal Kingdom for our 5th, and final day of park-fun. Here, the Disney visitor can find Nature amid the concrete, even if She’s in a tamed state. Walking through the garden paths, and standing in the sanctuary of birds, the energy lifts and the light changes from artificial to real, and sometimes magic happens on its own.