A Magic Hat

I have recently come into possession of a magic hat.

I found this hat buried in a pile in a bustling street market in the mountains around Northern Vietnam.

Or is this hat a scarf? I’m not sure.

It’s a silly little thing. A set of bear ears make up the cap from which arm-scarves dangle down its ears. You wrap one arm around your neck and then you’ll find two paw mitts sitting in front of your chest. You can use these as hand warmers although doing so forces you to hold your arms up like a dog in begging position.

I can be a little intimidating. I don’t say this proudly, as I don’t like that some people might feel uncomfortable when they first meet me. I am a relatively tall man, standing at an easy 6’ 2", and have a build that’s on the large side. I’ve made an effort to learn how to compensate for this in my behaviors. I do a pretty good job but I’m not perfect and initial impressions are what they are.

I can be moody. During my stormy periods I really don’t do a great job controlling my expressions and my behaviors. In these times even the people who know me well can be put off.

I bought my hat on a whim and would only later discover that it was magic.

My hat’s magic is that it changes my relationship with the world. Maybe it’s all in my head but I think that when people see me in my hat they can’t help but flash a smile. My hat certainly makes me feel a little silly and a little more smiley by default. When I’m holding my paws up and gesticulating with abbreviated arms I can’t help but express and little harder and brighter. People respond with a silly smile in kind, and through the rhythmic exchange of human interaction the magic feeds on itself and it grows stronger.

I think my hat is magical and now I’m not the only one who thinks so.

Recently I was on a night out with a group of my friends. It was going to be a long night of exploration and adventure. Unfortunately two lovers had been quarreling and they were in the awkward situation of being in our group adventure but not on speaking terms with one another.

I was dancing and talking with one of these friends - of course the other was off in another corner - but he couldn’t escape his forlorn mood. We talked about their situation and I tried to offer words of comfort. But sometimes you’re in one of those moods that no amount of rational thought can cure. It’s a matter of heart, of physiology.

In a moment of inspiration, which if I’ll be fully honest was initiated by Matt saying he was feeling cold, I took my hat off my head and put it on his. “My hat is magical,” I said as I wrapped its arm around his neck, “and I hope it will give you a little of its magic tonight.” Matt smiled. I lost him to the adventures of the night not long after.

I met up with Matt again later in the early hours of the morning. “Your hat is magical,” Matt said to me, “we’ve made up and everything is better now.” Good. Keep it for a little while longer I said.

We are not passive recipients of our relationship with the world. Although the world feels large, and sometimes we feel small, and occasionally it all feels very overwhelming and we can feel victim to the way humanity treats us, we must remember that we are active contributors to the pathos that we receive. That we may only see outward but that we are agents in the story that is each of our lives.

I’m not always very good at this. I get lost in my thoughts and I get stuck in my moods. But I’ve found a magic hat, and my hat has become a tool that has the power to help me manipulate my relationship with my life.