You. Are. Magic.
You matter. You have had an impact on people. There are the obvious examples—your friends, your children (if you have any), your siblings (again, if you have any), coworkers. Probably neighbors. Maybe strangers.
But you have also touched the lives of people you’ve never met.
When I get there, she’s got intertwining candles… My husband was singing Rick James’s “Super Freak” the other day.
Intertwining candles? Learn the words! I yelled at him from across the house.
Learn the words is something we’ve been saying to each other for almost thirty years. He and an ex-girlfriend used to say it because the ex’s friend’s fiancé yelled it at her once when she sang some mangled lyric. I never met the ex, let alone her friend or the friend’s fiancé. And yet learn the words is a part of our daily lives.
I have a handkerchief from the father of the concierge of the small hotel I stayed at in Istanbul. My father gave me a piano that I’m guessing gave someone joy many years ago—but I have no idea who. I collect crazy things on my walks, like a pair of dice, an angel-wing pendant, a business card for someone named Jim May who bills himself as a storyteller. All these people who have touched my life and who have no idea.
Maybe someone makes your mincemeat pie recipe. Or uses your birthday as their PIN because you were best friends in grade school. Or an ex still has a shirt you left at his house.
Our lives are made up of so many people and their significance can live on long after they leave.
And in the same way, it’s a comfort to know that there are so many lives you’re still a part of that you have no idea about.
It’s a comfort to know that you matter. And the fact that you matter is in no small way a part of your magic.
