Contagious Magic

September 4th, 2024

It’s easy to feel disenchanted.

Like every trick has been revealed and every rabbit is dead in its hat.

But what if the natural state of this world is magic? What if all it takes is patience and our attention to unlock it?

I repeat this idea to myself as I try to embrace every moment, every person, every failure, every opportunity, every day.

I fail as much as I try but I never fail to try again.

One of the biggest lessons of my life has been this: if I stay open, if I am patient, if I don’t just notice but see, then I open myself up to finding magic, and to magic finding me.

I know where to find magic. People joke that a squirrel of any age always seems like it’s living its first day as a squirrel; but that’s the way to the magical life, where everything is always novel, everything is always new.

Coffee is magic to me. It’s literally just water and heat and beans but it feels like so much more, doesn’t it? The smell, the taste, how it feels. Sometimes we pour it absentmindedly to fuel or even resuscitate ourselves, but something special is lost when we don’t meet it with our full (though not-yet-caffeinated) attention.

When I see an airplane — not just feel it in my peripheral, but notice it, see it — I’m five years old again. That goes for anything that can fly. You guys, things fly. In real life. And we act like that’s normal shit.

Yes, I know where to find magic, but it won’t ever find me in return unless I let it in.

I often embarass myself when I meet new people. Duh. Not because I’m an inherently embarassing person (though that verdict is still out), but because I get really excited to see people.

I used to think I only got that nervous way with “celebrities” but my energy with “celebrities” and everybody else is the very same; most of the world is vastly more interesting and talented than I am, and a chaotic enthusiasm spills out of me that I just can’t seem to blot out.

Being open to people is a way that magic can find me again and again. So many life-affirming conversations have happened because we allow ourselves the space to cast these interpersonal spells. Spells of weather and laughter and gossip and hope; healing spells for every time we hurt.

Feels like people hurt a lot lately.

I don’t know. Maybe the magic is made up. Maybe it only exists when I try really hard, and even then it’s only in my head.

I fail as much as I try.

But, like a true magician, I never fail to try again.