I believe in magic. Not in the potions and spells kind, necessarily, but the everyday kind of magic. The pull of a good book that makes the world around me fall away and draws me into a different world. A song that hits a chord inside of me, that makes me reverberate with the right lyric or sound. A musician on a street corner singing his heart out. A painting in a store window or a mural outside of a school. The embrace of a lover, surrounded by his smell and warmth and desire.
These are the moments that I live for, the notes of joy that make life a thing of beauty. I have drifted away from organized religion, but these are the moments that I feel closest to the universe, to God. If I had to measure the value of my life, I would measure it in the moments of everyday magic that I noticed, that I took the time to experience. Because when everything falls away, those are the moments that sustain me, strengthen me.
And how often do I walk away from moments of beauty? I think that experiencing beauty is a choice, because the world is full of beautiful things that most people walk right by. A flower blooming, the brilliance of green after a strong rain, a fresh novel written by a familiar author, a book of poems, hearing someone else’s favorite song for the first time. Walking through an art gallery. The way your favorite person’s face crinkles up when they laugh.
These moments are a gift. These moments are magic.