Someone recently asked me if I believe in magic, and it was one of the most certain yesses I have said in my life. This is just a little glimpse of what magic means to me:
Magic is finding solace in a quote, in a hug, in a view. Magic is connecting the dots and understanding how past decisions, life detours, and the past ten years make sense because they have brought me where I am today. Magic is the need to keep walking and moving forward, even though where I am is a happy place, probably one of the happiest. Magic is appreciating the beauty of here, today, while wanting to keep walking. Magic is a sublime certitude that this too shall pass, and a deep understanding of what THIS means.
Magic is thinking of someone and telling yourself: “I am calling or texting him/her in a little while,” and then having your phone ring or ping and being absolutely sure that it’s them. Because, who else could it be?
Magic is how cheap wine tastes on a Friday at 5:30 p.m. or even a little earlier. Magic is the moment you stop and look at the mirror and focus only on the progress. Magic is seeing something and saying aloud, “thank you, life for allowing ME to see this.”
Magic is when one of the women that I admire the most, describes herself as someone who “fiercely believes in magic and the power of intuition.”
Magic is when you wake up thinking about writing a blog post about magic and experiencing many magical things just before noon.
Magic is knowing by heart “The Prayer of Jabez,” magic is finding the right book at the perfect time. Magic are little miracles and soul-shaking, “who am I to deserve this?” miracles. Magic is prayers, and prayers are magic.
Magic is so much more.
Have a magical weekend, and if you can have a moment to ask yourself these two questions:
- Do I believe in magic? 2. If I do, what does it mean to me?
I have missed writing to you. I’m trying to do better. I’m trying a lot of things right now, but mostly to do better and be better.
M.
Em and the Shelf 