Why I Started Looking For Magick
This just in: Life is more than suffering
Well it’s been a whirlwind month, y’all! Because I’ve been reconnecting with myself while starting a new job and doing some traveling, I thought it would be a good time to dive into why we’re here in the first place. Why should we care about the little magick in our lives? I’ll dive into all of that below but first, the media that’s been entertaining/uplifting me these past four weeks:
Book of the Month: On What Grounds by Cleo Coyle
Song of the Week: Fish & Whistle - John Prine
Movie/TV Show of the Day: Widow’s Bay on Apple TV (I’m really loving this so far)
Why I Started Looking For Magick
I’ve written before about why I started looking for the magick in the world but I wanted to do so again, not just to share with new subscribers (hello, and welcome!), but also as a gentle reminder to myself. With an influx of very good things comes new waves of anxiety that sometimes make it hard for me enjoy them. Innocuous moments like a simple cup of coffee or the smell of the air after a rain go unnoticed because the thrum of an internal narrative is too strong, or my physical body feels sharp and oddly angled. In these moments it’s easy just to shut down, to write stories about why things are the way they are, and then to proceed with those narratives as if they explain everything.
I don’t think they do. I think what I’m trying to say is that suffering is not the only story worthy of being considered profound.
I kind of want to cry after that sentence. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s what some would have us believe, that suffering is worthy and happiness is not. Film, TV, and books that are deep are about dark, twisted topics. Anything more heartfelt is considered corny or unrealistic. It’s what drove me away from the media I loved for so long, the sweet hometown stories, the cozy murder mysteries, and tales of tragic young women who move to remote mountain towns and build a new lives (which is not that far off from where I’ve been. That’s life imitating art again.)
These narratives are ones I cherished and they were also the ones I fought to destroy from my array of fascinations because I believed them to be unworthy. I found myself waiting for the twist, waiting for the wink at the end, waiting for it all to go downhill. That’s what life is, right? A series of ruined moments just trying to get you to go philosophically deeper into something looking more like nihilism than realism.
The problem I have with that attitude is, it’s not only boring, it’s not particularly brave. It reeks of depression-guided cynicism.
When I was having a hard time being myself, I would have given anything just to feel a little bit. To enjoy those slices of cake and those long summer walks and those flirty moments between crushes. I did not realize how much I missed them until one day they rushed back. Not all at once, but in waves. I’ve cried over more cups of coffee, more velveteen dog ears, and more smiles from strangers than I have in awhile because I am facing everything I had lost.
How sweet it is to savor life. What a privilege it is to walk somewhere, to taste good food, to have someone to share a moment with. And life is full of those moments. It takes courage to enjoy life after you’ve seen how cruel it can be. It takes bravery to say I’m going to keep feeling and I’m not going to reach into the world with the same poison I was once gifted.
I heard a quote awhile back by an author I don’t care to look up right now. They said they wanted to “suck the marrow” out of life and I think that is exactly what I mean when I say I look for the magick. The dark side will find you, but there are always fireflies. The sun can shine too brightly but there is always shade. It is because I know darkness that I can appreciate the small, seemingly inconsequential moments and it is because of those moments that I know the darkness is just a part of things. Both are necessary for depth and I continue to go after all of it.
I am returning to the art and writing that I once loved because I believe in it. I think fiction ought to always be true and I think there is truth in the way we love the world. If the way we love the world is writing stories of its resilience and hope then sign me up. That is where I want to live.
So why did I start counting the little magick moments? Because they exist, and because they exist they ought to be documented. We seem to be very good at all the paperwork that documents what has gone wrong. Why not keep a log of everything we’ve done right?
If you’re new here, welcome. If you’re a veteran of the magick, thank you for still being here. I’m learning to apprieciate it as much as anyone and I look forward to doing that with others. Please enjoy some photos and stories below of the magick I found in May.
Happy Halfway Through The Year!
The Magick This Week:
There are many ways to define magick, but I define it as the little glimmers of what makes being alive worth it. Because it’s important to remember these moments, I keep a running list and share them here.
I painted my nails four different shades of blue and green because I couldn’t decide which one I liked best. I asked all the guys at work, kind of jokingly, to tell me which one they liked best and to my surprise, they took it very seriously and gave honest opinions. They have good taste, I found out.
At the new local bakery a line had formed and I found myself at the back of several giant orders. Boxes of croissants, muffins, and other pastries were gathered by the one gal working the register. When it was finally my turn I ordered one croissant to go and she looked at me, incredulously. “Just one? You’re not going to send me rushing all over the store? Thank god!” My tiny, frugal order of one croissant was a blessing to someone, who knew!
During the last week of school the park across from our house was full of screaming children enjoying daily Field Days. Made me miss summer.
While I was reading Ina Garten’s Memoir Be Ready When The Luck happens, the man at the breakfast bar next to me asked me about the book. I told him it’s about preparing to be ready to take advantage of good things and then we both went back to our breakfasts. When he left soon after he said, “Good luck with your luck, miss!” I still think about it.
I was waiting to pull out of a space in a parking deck when the gentleman who was picking up trash was joined by his coworker. The coworker whips up in a work truck, absolutely blasting some indie rock song. He’s singing along and when he clocks me watching, instead of stopping, he sings louder. I love joy unashamed. Way to be, maintenance guy!
Follow the magick all the way down:
Instagram: @aka.leahmorris
Loved every bit of this! Thank you for sharing your magick ✨