When my daughter was little, Santa brought her a magic kit. She was so excited about it. We sat down on the floor of my parents’ family room (which probably still had gold shag carpet, impeccably raked) and opened the box. A box of magic!
We pulled everything out and I said, “Let’s see what the instructions say.”
I saw her face fall. It wasn’t a box full of magic after all. It was instructions and adult involvement.
I still feel guilty about shattering her belief in magic. I wish I could go back and say something to make it right. Something like, “There is definitely magic in the world—Santa simply misunderstood what you asked for.” I wish I would have thought to show her how both real magic and stage magic work.
I love both kinds of magic. My husband and I went to the Magic Lounge in Chicago last Friday. He likes to try to figure out how the tricks are done. I prefer to be astounded. And magic, either kind, should astound.
Years ago, I was out with my friend Jean. From seemingly out of nowhere I started talking about my old buddy JR. I finished my anecdotes saying, “I wonder what that old JR is up to!” I went home, dug around online, found him, and sent him a message. It felt so out of the blue. I wasn’t even sure he would remember me since I hadn’t seen him in over twenty years.
It turned out that JR had been looking for people who had been in Estes Park during the summer when a horrible flood killed close to 150 people. At that time, that’s where I lived. In a sense, he conjured my email to him.
When my husband and I were looking to move out of Oak Park, we were originally looking in a city called Huntley. We had settled on a subdivision and a builder and were in the process of designing our house. While driving in the area, I kept seeing billboards that said, “Bigger Is Better!” I didn’t pay them any mind.
Around the same time, I went to get my hair done, but my regular stylist, Petra, was sick. I was chatting with the woman filling in for Petra, telling her how we were planning to move to Huntley. Even though Huntley is fifty miles away from the salon, that stylist lived in the exact subdivision we were looking at. She said, “Don’t move there! Move to Crystal Lake.”
The next time I saw the Bigger Is Better billboard, I noticed it was for a neighborhood in Crystal Lake. With the same builder we were working with. I drove over to look. There was one house available. The very model house we were designing. With all the upgrades we had chosen. On a much bigger lot. For a lot less than we were going to be paying in Huntley.
That’s magic.
I have a top hat full of stories like that. Hearing from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in over twenty years after seeing a photo of him the week before. Being magically unscathed from car accidents that should have killed me. Having jobs, jobs I was sure I wasn’t qualified for, even jobs I never applied for, fall into my lap. Books that had the information I needed appear. Teachers. Healers. Friends.
The secret is in believing that powerful magic swirls around you. In knowing that you can conjure, that you can co-create with the Universe. In never giving up on the childlike wonder that allows the magic to be real.