When thinking about possibilities for the letter M, I had a few ideas in mind, chief among them mountains and music, two of my loves. But as I lay on the couch Sunday afternoon, looking out the window at the freshly blooming trees, I decided I had to do something else.
M is for magic.
Most people, if you ask them if they believe in magic, they will give you a short and sweet “No.” The idea is ludicrous. Magic is for kids and illusionists. It’s for the people who are out of touch with reality and need to seek professional help.
I disagree. Surprise surprise.
I believe in magic. The supernatural variety to a certain extent, but also every day magic. Back to the newly bloomed trees and flowers I mentioned at the beginning. After such a long, hard winter, why wouldn’t we look at the green suddenly all around us and think there is magic in the air? Maybe it’s the fae of spring, weaving their magic to make things grow, maybe it’s just the natural process put in place by our creator or developed after millions of years of evolution and development on Earth.
Whatever you believe about how we got here, can you really deny a certain kind of magic in our continued existence? You could argue that science is just magic, a few discoveries of “how it works” later.
So, what exactly is magic? It’s not abracadabra and making an elephant disappear. Not the real magic, not what I’m talking about. I define magic as special. Things that happen without our human hand to push them along. Things that are beautiful. Things that make us smile.
Simplistic way to look at it. But hey, who’s grinning over a cup of coffee, happy to be alive? Sometimes the small things are what really count.