What is magic?
At some point in our childhood, we are taught that magic does not exist.
“It isn’t real.“
“It’s just in the movies.”
At some point, the wonder and hope and dreaming is squashed out of us.
Or at least that’s the way it feels sometimes.
But I am an adult who chooses to believe in magic.
To embrace it, to create it, to make it a part of my everyday.
How do I reconcile that?
What does that mean?
To believe in magic.
For me it’s not movie magic, but I think that makes it more real.
It’s the dance of fireflies at dusk.
Setting out to go thrift shopping and finding just the thing you were hoping for.
Getting lost in a good book.
Setting goals and looking back after a year to know that you achieved them.
The smell of Christmas time.
The sound of a baby giggling.
Seeing a doe and fawn in the woods while hiking. Standing still, hushed, to stare back at them.
Sharing your heart and soul with people who truly get you.
The crisp, cool feel of sheets on a freshly made bed.
Listening to your intuition.
Looking yourself in the eye in the mirror and speaking your truth.
A sunset turned gold and pink and orange and violet.
The melt-in-your mouth sensation of your favorite food.
Hearing your toddler express thoughts with new words.
Sitting in silence with your own thoughts.
Dancing without a care.
Looking up at the night sky.
Healing old wounds.
It’s all magic to me.
The little wonders, the physical sensations of living on this earth in this body, the power of writing down your intentions or speaking them into existence.
Magic is what we create.
It is what we choose.
Magic is making the decision to be intentional in our lives.
To live on purpose.
To soak it all in.
To be present.
To be alive.
I have found magic in being alone.
I have found magic in being with good friends.
I have found powerful magic in being a mother.
It’s always there, waiting for us to reach out and claim it.
I choose to live my life magically.
Join me here if that sounds fun.
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