I have at least two inner voices, a poet and a scientist. Most of the time, my scientist is in charge. I need to hold him back now and again to give the poet a chance. That's one of the things I accomplish by writing. A few years ago, I wrote a piece entitled "Don't Dis the Tooth Fairy". I rewrote it last year. Now I find I have more to say on the topic. You may not want to follow me down this road because you have enough to worry about without deconstructing your model of reality one more time. No worries. I am writing not to convince believers that they are irrational nor to convince nonbelievers that they are heartless, but to suggest to everyone, wherever you find yourself on the journey, there is still a long way to go and we scientists and poets should travel this road together. 

First an excerpt from the original story, then some 2020 addenda.

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Don't Dis the Tooth Fairy

If you believe in the Tooth Fairy and want her to keep her job, I won't be responsible for messing up your head, so stop right here.

Now, if you are still reading, you have probably wondered why that fairy is willing to pay for baby teeth. To be realistic, if the Tooth Fairy is now paying two dollars per tooth and when I was a kid it was a measly dime, there must be a bull market for baby teeth. Why should she get the capital gains when kids just get bleeding gums and two bucks? I'm going to see what the Dragons say about this.

There. That's what it's like being a fully functioning, rational human being. There is a room in your mind for magic, and there is another room for reality. The door to each room is open, and you may come and go as you like. Visiting one keeps you hopeful. Visiting the other keeps you from losing out to shifty fairies. If either one of those places in your mind is missing, or if you get stuck in one and never visit the other, you are beat...

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November 2020

The Tooth Fairy, was my first employer. The job was to give up a tooth without too much crying in order to earn a dime under the pillow. Early on, although I don't recall it at all, I assume I believed the magic, and therefore was distracted from the pain by the promise of a reward, which was the purpose of the game. For a while it worked very well. A bit later, I must have caught on that Mum was the Tooth Fairy. Larcenous child that I was, I continued playing the game to get the reward until the pain of losing a tooth became familiar and easy to ignore. By then I had collected quite a few dimes and a mouthful of teeth that would be more or less permanent. At some point, I no longer needed to believe or pretend. Then I grew up and married the love of my life who later turned out to be a tooth fairy. 

My wife isn't the only tooth fairy I know. She and I both have teeth that require regular maintenance. So we go to the dentist, actually two dentists, a young married couple both working in the same office. Both are skilled at filling teeth, and both have some techniques to calm you down if you're scared. He knows the right words, but unfortunately when he speaks I hear his inner scientist talking, and the message is clear: there is a big needle coming. I wait for the jab and therefore I get jabbed in imagination more than once before the needle is in my mouth. As for his partner, she is a natural empath who sends my imagination off to the beach, or the meadow or the forest. Then while I'm gone she jabs once, and I don't mind. 

Life presents pain in many forms, and one never stops needing some version of the Tooth Fairy. When you grow up, it is your job to pass on the comfort the best way you can because there is lots of pain to go around. However, there are people who don't believe in the fairies. You will find them lurking on the internet ready to accuse you of telling irrational lies to children. The Tooth Fairy is a perfectly rational strategy for distracting people from pain and reducing suffering. It works. Ask the neurologists. I heard they have pictures and graphs. But you don't have to believe. Just pay attention to the story instead of rehearsing your fear. 

Let reason be silenced

by the startling congruity 

of metaphor and mind. 

Let inspiration flow free

unfiltered by crystalline semantics.

Soothe your suffering 

in sweet story,

and let your poet have a say.