I Believe In The Magic

Throughout my life, I have collected little meaningless pieces of information such as the exact green of sunlight filtered through the leaves of an oak or the seemingly random zig-zagging of ants. I have slowly stitched these universal quirks together over the years, leading me to appreciate interconnectedness. My first glimpses of this web occurred during school lunches outside, lying in the grass, watching ants crawl up blades of grass and bees land on dandelions, pollen sacks at their sides. Words buzz around me, students conversing over their lunches, my friends debating politics or religion, playing Celtic rock music, studying.

I am there in it all.

Some days I enter the fray, passionately discussing the logistical pitfalls of socialism or explaining why the Fibonacci spiral is prime evidence of a conscious universe. Other days, however, I lie back and let it all wash over me, the heavy warmth of the sun resting on me, and watch. I’ve read that everything is prettier from a distance, but I refute that.

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When you obliterate that distance, look up close, even the most ordinary of things become positively stunning. It was during one of those lunches, while observing and absorbing, I noticed a small, purple tip to each blade of grass and ever since, grass has been more than just another mundanity. When viewed close enough to see the accent of purple, it became something mystical, a reason I know magic exists. I see the magic in these incidents revealing the world and the significant impact of small things.

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Leaves sparkle. When inspected very closely under sunlight, each color of the visible spectrum is present, the photons dancing together upon the leaf’s surface, a sparkling sheen to the usual lively green.

The night sky is filled with stars seemingly thrown randomly across the skyscape, but they’re both cyclical and constant. They light the inky blackness, urging humanity to draw mythologies from a scattered array of glimmering specks, a largeness to something small.

At the end of a storm, when the sky is still painted grey and everything is dripping, a few rays of sunshine break through the cloud cover to create a rainbow. The world pales to greyscale in comparison. I am urged to take a pause in my day, to stare up at the sky, and revel in its beauty.

That’s magic: the ability to transform a day from surviving to something joyful. Sometimes things go wrong. But no matter how terrible my day, leaves still sparkle, stars still shine, and one day, I will see another rainbow. Even as I compile scientific explanations, the wonder does not diminish. It grows. Knowing rainbows are ultraviolet light being filtered through raindrops makes them more miraculous; understanding the circumstances that must align perfectly to create them is spellbinding. Science is the recipe for magic, not its antithesis.

My tenet of the world and my interactions with my surroundings distills to this: I believe in the magic of connection and small miracles. In leaves, stars, and rainbows, but also the magic that lives within ourselves. I affect that which surrounds me and it has an equal and opposite reaction. I love watching the face of my best friend light up as she talks about something she loves. Her words become stronger, and no matter what she says there is the same underlying message: I am alive and living and so are you and so are we all. I want to be that reminder to live and love, to be a force for the positive in the same way my friend is to me, to live in the interconnectedness and recognize and celebrate the magic in the smallest of things, even if it is as seemingly insignificant as a purple tip on a blade of grass.

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I Believe In The Magic. (2022, Apr 21). Retrieved from https://studymoose.com/i-believe-in-the-magic-essay

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