Like friendship, magic shows up when you invite her in. She sits to stay a spell when you take a deep breath and say “This is who I really am.” After that, to stay with magic becomes easier and harder. Easier, because now she’s an old friend. Harder, because old friends don’t let you get away with being less than real or less than true to yourself. We don’t make old friends stay. That’s not what friendship is about, and it’s not what magic is about. The best we can do is walk blindly into our old walls, bitch or laugh about those walls and selves together, and then haltingly, stumblingly, walk through the veils of our old selves, becoming more fun and aware versions of ourselves. If we’re serious about staying with magic—and I highly suggest we not be—then it is we who must get lost, fall down, look the fool, and receive help. It is we who must learn to move with magic wherever she takes us…
Intuition
makes all my decisions.
Dragons
live in the fog across the sea from me
I’ve visited them.
Trees
are my advisors
wind
my mentor
rabbits, eagles, dogs, and cats
my closest friends.
I write
for the pure joy of it.
I edit for joy, sure, sometimes,
and also to pay the bills.
At 45½, aka, today
I learned that I love
easy-listening country music
when I dropped my guard
and just let it help me
write poetry.
(My love didn’t have to leave me,
my car didn’t break down,
nor did my dog have to die.
Bye bye, silly old beliefs.)
Today I prefer the company
of poets, artists, musicians, and farmers
caregivers, scientists, and new parents
the wildly curious, the extremely vulnerable,
the very young, and the very old:
basically, all the people who won’t notice
let alone mind
that I wore these same socks and this same sweater, yesterday.
I don’t have the high adult walls that some other grownups seem to.
You might spot me in the front yard
laughing
to attract bumblebees,
crying
to hold friends or embrace demons:
doing both
apparently
uncontrollably.
But you know
surely you must know already
if only within your soul
or you wouldn’t still be here…
It takes extra-terrestrial freedom
to not have high adult walls today
to not fear some humans
in the world right now.
It takes extra-terrestrial control
to let unimportant things go
to go where your heart takes you
to go all-in
on what matters most.
It takes extra-terrestrial guts
to be kind in the now:
to offer the benefit of the doubt
while also bravely speaking your mind.
It takes wonder, awe, and magic
to have true courage, deep power, and trusted change.
This is my known.
For the longest time I forgot this.
I did what was asked of me.
Then I went to school after school.
Then I went to leaders, gurus, and, God help me, even to politicians.
I searched Google and Facebook, too:
went spelunking for all good ideas known to man and
still I came up empty on this.
So now I’m back to me.
I’m back to intuition and dragons.
Back to well-worn sweaters, cozy chairs.
Back to baby steps, random leaps, and deep love in all directions around me.
Back to writing poems, building sand castles, and paying bills.
Because it takes extra-terrestrial magic within
to breathe fully now.
It takes extra-terrestrial magic within
to answer the question:
Who am I, really?
Open space + invitation = finding that magic within.
Saying “This is the real me today.” is sitting with magic, old friend.
Then,
muster all the courage you have
or don’t.
Then get up and walk away
or stay.
Do whatever you’ve got to do
to leave your beloved old self and ideas behind
hit the road
again
and stay with magic.