I have this box of little magnets in various shapes. You join them to sculpt images of your choice. It is said to relieve stress. I have never tried it. I know that building something out of tiny pieces of iron that get attracted to each other will be precarious. I will have to destroy them again to deal with another stress.
Then there are those magnets that you stick on refrigerators. I pick them up on travels. Once I had written down all important telephone numbers on a sheet of thick cardboard and placed a few of these magnets to hold it in place. The cardboard had a smooth surface and the magnet was rather small, so it kept slipping. The thing it was attracted to had been interfered with. That portion I had clothed in paper was not letting it meet the object of its desire. There was no skin-to-skin contact.
There is this beautiful country house with a cobbled path and a doorway with awnings. I had left that magnet alone on the surface. It stood in all its magnificence apart from the rest. One day, due to hurried opening of the door, it fell to the ground. The house broke. I tried using an adhesive to put it back together, a bit of the white sticky glue had covered the façade. It did not look like the house it was. I touched its surface one last time, especially the window, and put it with the junk.
I threw open the real window. It was dawn; the sun was just coming up over concrete buildings that looked surprisingly beautiful in the hazy light. Two clouds got together, fluffy pillows whispering to each other. I stood transfixed. I had found new magnets.
They moved away from my view, one following the other. Would they stay like this? Would they break into bits or clash? Were they attracted to each other or was the unreachable sky their magnet?
I looked up at the sky. I know it will stay in place. I fold my hands together and feel a warmth surging within. I am my own magnet.