I used to believe in magic.
I used to believe in things unbelievable.
I used to believe in miracles.
Doubt came in. Questions rose up. Magical thinking made its exit. I packed it up and pushed it out the door. I needed to consider faith and life without the smoke and mirrors, to pull back the curtain, and to confront he why, how, and what of my belief system. I shed pieces of me in that process and I haven't felt quite whole since. I can't go back to those guiding principles but I need something. I want something.
I want magic. I want things to be magical. I want the wonder and mystery of the supernatural, the inexplicable, the unbelievable.
What if I could make my own magic, my own magical way of thinking and being in the world? What would that look like? I think it may be the only magical life possible.
There are things in my life that feel like pure magic. Painting. Yes. Painting always feels like mixing potions. It feels like there is something beyond me, above me, that inhabits my process. What if I could invite that something into my moment by moment? What if I could turn the mundane into magical? I think it's time to start believing again.