I learned

Rating: Null/10 (9 September 2015)

Sometimes, however rarely, it is possible to tell a story without an enemy, yet still have meaning, to tell something that matters. Something that changes those who hear it. Surely, all stories require conflict. Change, something happening, is conflict in and on itself, for change means that something has to go away, to die, even if it is just an idea of a moment. But conflict does not have to be an enemy.
I learned that from My Neighbor Totoro.
I also learned how to walk through a house yard, viewing it through the eyes of a child. I learned that tall grass can hide wondrous creatures and that it can be a pretty scary place. Overgrowing forests are a labyrinth, a place to get lost, but also to find something. Not all monsters have to be scary, even if they might look and sound like it. The spookiest grin might belong to the nicest person.
Children believe in magic. For them dreaming is the same as the waking world. The older we grow the more we start to lose this truth, but as long as we're still children, we remember. If we're lucky, we realize, at some point in our lives, that dreams are important, for they are hope. And hope is the thing that allows us to step out of our doors. But often we realize this too late, if at all.
Trees can grow overnight into mighty giants. And the oldest trees have power of their own. Empty houses are never truly empty. It's nice to have a roadside roof to hold the rain, though umbrellas are mighty useful as well. Laughter keeps thunder from being too scary, every old lady should be called a grandma and the reason no adult believes in trolls is because they can turn invisible.
All this I learned from My Neighbor Totoro.