I found myself thinking about Oz, that kingdom of illusion, that place where you came to understand that you’d had everything you needed all along—good witches to call on in an emergency, all the courage, brains, and heart that was necessary in order to manage your way through this life. Oz was that place where the God you were going to for help could not help you, not really. All he could do was turn your eyes to what you already were and ask you to see it differently. Oz was that dreamlike place you returned from and couldn’t tell anyone in your old life about, because none of them believed
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