When I was little, I believed in magic.
I used to make magic potions out of flower petals I’d find in the garden, mixed with food extracts from the kitchen and anything else I could find that I thought would fit. I would cast spells and pretend that anything I touched would turn to gold, or if I wanted to, I could make myself invisible.
I fully believed in fairies at the bottom of the school playing fields and at night time I just knew there were angels around. I would sometimes talk to them and felt they were there protecting me.
Being a child, was for me, a truly magical experience for the most part. When I was left alone, I believed anything was possible. I’d set out fearlessly on mini adventures around our jungle-like garden in Kenya – I’d gather different types of tropical flowers for creations and adornments; I would pretend I was a mermaid and swim for hours in our little pool; I felt totally safe and the world was my magical kingdom, to be, do and have whatever I believed in.
As I grew up and life ‘happened’, I stopped believing in this magical place. Instead I started to numb and escape my reality in other ways that were harmful.
But, throughout all of these experiences, since I brushed the magic world away, there’s always been that little girl inside who DID still believe. There was this buried feeling that something was missing, that there had to be more to life than what’s on the surface, than what we experience physically.
Throughout my teens and twenties I was fascinated by anything ‘new-agey’ and had a little stash of crystals, incense and some books which were considered weird by many. I remember being drawn to friends, particularly older women who had a bit of a hippy, alternative lifestyle. In particular, one friend who introduced me to meditation when I was 19 and got me sessions with a reiki practitioner and psychic, which I found fascinating and so helpful. But, still I would never admit to being ‘into’ these things.
It’s over the past few years as I’ve kept on with my self-care path and doing more of the things that make me happy (particularly through reading widely in a number of self-development areas), I started to come across others who also believed in magic, or at least the same kind of magic that I did, and as I later came to know it – the spiritual world or the metaphysical.
The spiritual world has been like a candy shop for my inner child. All the different tools and practices you can play with such as: Angel and oracle cards for that little bit of extra guidance, energy healings and clearings, tapping into the potency of moon cycles and the earth’s changing seasons, astrology, meditation, and so much more.
These are just a few of the tools and practices I’ve experimented with and it has been so much fun and totally magical. But, and this is the BUT, the real thing they’ve done, alongside lots of other self-care practices, is help ME to find ME.
They’ve helped me to unlock the real me hiding beneath all the layers.
They’ve helped me to connect with my true self inside so I can show up more in the world, express what I want to express and do more of what my heart truly desires.
They’ve helped me to come home to myself.
My life has honestly changed since I’ve allowed myself to believe in the magic once again.
I guess the real magic is believing in myself.
I encourage you to notice the magical moments that happen around you or in your life.
Maybe it’s the sunlight flickering through the trees; a spontaneous kiss; a mouth-wateringly delicious meal; a gorgeous sunset; a bus arriving as soon as you get to the bus stop, and you getting a seat right where you want; a moment of synchronicity – the list is endless.
The more you notice and appreciate these little things which make you happy, the more they will appear.
Where’s the magic in your life?
This blog post is a snippet from my book, Embodied. You can get your own copy of Embodied here or anywhere you buy your books online.
Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash.