When I was a kid I checked out a book from the public library about how to do magic. I remember that interest and curiosity waning quickly when no rabbit appeared out of my hat and my parents wouldn’t allow me to have a saw to cut my stuffed animals in half.
My husband and I went to see David Copperfield in Atlantic City years and years ago. I used to record all his TV specials on my VCR and when Mister Rain and I began dating, we watched them, with him sitting on the floor close to the screen, trying to figure out how each illusion was done. When we saw Mr. Copperfield live, we were convinced he had a pact with some supernatural power.
In the years since attending that show, I have come to understand that “magic” is 90% hard work and 10% wonder.
Case in point: trying to stuff my puffer jacket into its pouch in order to pack it in my suitcase. When I look at the end result it seems magical but there was frustration, sweat and a few colorful words involved in the space saving endeavor. No smoke. No mirrors.
There are mystical moments in our life, when the stars align and the universe gives us a gift. But most of the time it is up to us to make our own magic.
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