This is sand. It leaves me filled with wonder.
I believe in magic. I don’t mean illusions or parlor tricks, or Harry Potter. I mean wonder.
I live in a world of stories and images, real and imagined. My life is a collection of moments of intense emotion, good and bad. I have boring normal times, like everyone else. Actually, I bet I have a life filled with more mundane than most people. I think it helps me see the beautiful vivid times in my life.
I am truly, deeply lucky.
I believe we all need magic, or wonder. I think it is like faith. We turn to science or religion to help us fill our need for wonder or imagination. I’m not saying this is bad. I think exploring other planets and looking at the tiniest particles of earth is a fantastic expression of wonder. I also think that religion, unless taken to the point of harming others, can fulfill a need basic to every human. I think they fight and are afraid of each other, but I believe there is room in the world for both. But the magic and wonder I am talking about isn’t about science or dogma, it is something similar but separate.
Magic is looking up at the play of light and dark in the trees, or a cancer survivor giving his lottery winnings to charity or a woman looking at the nastiest part of the internet and showing it love and beauty. Magic is the feel of the Viking’s arm hair and soft skin and hard muscle all under my fingertips at once. It is something nothing like me and distinctly him, and the memory is so vivid and sweet it is almost painful to think of. Magic is those small, unexpected things that move us.
Magic is real and all a matter of perspective. Maybe, if I am really lucky as a writer, I will get to show the world some magic.
Geeks a Geeking