Yesterday morning I woke to a general bleakness. My first thoughts of the day were along the lines of: It’s dark. It’s raining. It’s November. And I don’t want to go to work today.
I didn’t want to get dressed, didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to talk to anybody or do anything or be anywhere.
Bleak.
I took the usual bleak morning steps: fire in the woodstove, good cup of coffee, check in with my twitter support network. Spent some time with my journal. And came to the general realization that what I am suffering from is a serious dearth of Magic.
Scoff if you will, but Magic is alive and real and as necessary for my well being as vitamins and coffee. And when I’m feeling magically deprived, it’s usually not so much that there isn’t any magic around, but rather that I’ve become incapable of perceiving it.
So, yesterday morning I began a conscious quest to find the missing magic. There were glimpses of it all throughout the day – small things, easily missed. Hints of magic, not the real deal, but reminders that it’s all around me whether I can see it or not.
My Magic Quest sightings included:
- rain turning to a skiff of snow as I drove into work
- a rare, slow day at the office – no crises, no insolvable knots, no human heartbreak
- unexpected gifts of time
- bubbles of irrational happiness
And there was magic just the other day, wandering through an antique store and playing with a camera and mirrors. I love mirrors. They alter perception, make the magical realm seem imminently possible and right behind you, like if you turn around fast enough some fairyland denizen will actually be standing there. Small wonder that mirrors serve as a magic conduits in so many stories.
I love the reflections in the glass here, and the way the bluejay figurine almost looks real, peering out at me.
And here – colors and textures and me in a different place entirely. Or so it seems.
Today I plan to again walk through the day with my eyes open. Join me?
So lovely, Kerry. I’m glad I was on when I saw you tweet this. I believe in magic, too. I see it in a drop of rain hanging from the curled tip of a leaf. I see it in clouds. Most of all I feel it in my heart. When I feel a distance from it, I journal, sketch, learn a new piece of music or just sit somewhere still and quiet and notice the small things that are so easy to miss in a loud and insistent world.
Beautiful post. I have no doubt that you’ll fill the dearth. Happy Wednesday to you!
A magical comment – I hope your Wednesday brings many beautiful things your way. : )
Mmm. Perfect. The blue jay photo was so strange. I looked and didn’t see it until you mentioned it and then there it was–central to all else. Definitely magic.
The blue jay was a funny one – I wasn’t focused on him until after I took the picture. Love surprises like that.
My dad, a very wise man, often reminded me that magic is small for a reason–its meant to be a gift when we discover it, but we have to look for it. Otherwise, it loses it’s potency to move us. Magic happens in the blink of an eye, in a whiff of scent triggering memories, in the heart opening to new possibilities.
May you always find the magic, Kerry!