Magic can happen on an ordinary day, awe can be right around the corner – it’s there if you’re looking for it and easy to miss if you’re not. The magic doesn’t make the choice to be noticed it just ‘is’, it’s us with the choice.
I’ve missed a lot of magic over the past year, a lot of awe went unnoticed. The ache in my heart has been all consuming, all encompassing – it ate my energy and dimmed my view of the world. I’ve been functioning on auto-pilot in the dark for so long that the brilliance of an ordinary day made me squint my eyes.
I’ve been reluctant to let time work its magic on me – I’ve resisted recovery in the name of devotion. I think I’ve been devoted to my grief, which is not the same as being devoted to the person I’m grieving. I’ve been afraid to recover lest it look like I didn’t care or love enough, that I wasn’t devastated enough or broken enough. I worried I wasn’t doing it right – but I’m discovering there is no right or wrong when it comes to grieving. Grief is grief, grieving is the action of coping with it.
My grief is big, real and will never go away but how I’m coping with it is evolving, and I have to let that happen. I have to admit to myself that the magic is calling again and that my instinct to look for it is becoming stronger. I want to be awestruck. I want the beauty of this planet, this day, this moment, to resonate with me again. I want to notice and take note. I want to admit I’m feeling the awe again and not feel bad about doing that.
The magic never went away, I did. I’m choosing to come home now, I’m choosing to notice.