Do You Believe in Magic?

“If you don’t believe in any kind of magic or mystery, you’re as good as dead.”

- - - Albert Einstein

When I think of magic, I think about music. It has no physical presence and yet, it moves me. It soothes. It communicates and it heals. It hovers in the atmosphere and it speaks to me without a voice. When I play music from the sixties, it transports me back in time to a familiar place that is familiar and nourishing. It’s an invisible force that turns sound into feeling, memory and meaning. Mozart’s music inspired the phrase, “the magic of Mozart.”

When I think of magic, I think about dreams. They have no beginning, middle or end. They have no substance. They have hidden meaning that’s open to interpretation and they run away from you when you try to chase them. They show us possibilities that we never imagined. Walt Disney’s vision revolved around the magic of wonder and imagination.

When I think of magic, I think about light. Hit a switch and it wipes out the darkness. It beckons you without a touch. It silently warms you and soothes you when you feel gloomy or negative. It arrives each morning without fail and it can turn an ordinary vista into something breathtaking. Master painter Rembrandt used light as if it were a living presence, not merely to illuminate a scene but also to tell a story, reveal a character and evoke emotions. He embodied the magic of light.

When I think of magic, I think about hope. When the world is swirling around you, out of control and enigmatic, hope is an invisible beacon that can guide you to friendlier shores. It can pull you out of a devastating rabbit hole and give you an shoulder to lean on even though it has no substance. It can help you take the first step to something that previously felt unattainable. Concentration camp survivor, Viktor Frankl, used the magic of hope and meaning to keep him alive amid the worst kind of suffering.

Magic exists in the everyday world around us. Early one morning when I was seven, it was still dark when my father took me to an open field beside our local airport.

“Why are we here?” I asked him. “Are we going on a plane?”

“No. Something is coming to us. It’s a solar eclipse. When the sun starts to rise, the moon’s going to cover it and make it dark again for a little while.”

“Why?”

“The moon is jealous. It has to disappear every morning when the sun comes up, but today, it’s getting special attention.”

We got to the middle of the field. The sun was starting to rise as a faint glow appeared along the horizon, lighting up the edges of the sky. My father’s upturned face became a dark silhouette against the shining heavens and I reached my arms upward, stretching out my fingers into the oncoming light that was beginning to fill the skies. Suddenly, it reversed itself. The world began to get dark again. I stood still, amazed. I took my father’s hand and held it until it the sky began to glow again, the light wiping out the darkness until everything was back to normal.

I was filled with awe. The experience had touched me in ways I could never articulate. In a child’s innocence, I saw that some things just happened the way they did and if we tried to make sense out of them and give them a name, the magic poured out and left a gaping hole.

The world can be a disappointing place at times. We are prone to making up negative stories and expecting the worst. But if you remind yourself to expect the best, if you tell yourself good stories instead of bad ones, there’s a good chance you’ll find the magic waiting in the wings.

I’m not talking about how a magician appears to saw a body in half. Make an elephant disappear. Pull a playing car out of your ear. I’m talking about the kind of magic that exists in the world around us. Many spiritual teachers believe that the greatest magic is not controlling the world but rather transforming oneself to find peace. You don’t have to look for it. Believing it’s there will automatically draw it to you. Pema Chodron describes magic as the sacredness, vastness and aliveness of the present moment. Writers, philosophers, and spiritual teachers have described “magic” not as a supernatural power, but as the result of believing in wonder, beauty, and mystery that is woven into ordinary life.

J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan, said, “The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.”