I often think about an idea I call "Magic". I don't necessarily mean magic in any of the formal definitions of the word. Magic, to me, is the quality of worlds in fantasy novels. Magic is when there is something else. Religion is magic. Faeries, ghosts, monsters, these are magic. Space aliens are magic. I believe that there is not magic, and this causes me grief. This is not news to those of you who have been around here for very long.
What if there is magic in the world? if it's out there, how does that make you feel? If I believed it was out there, I think I would feel a great deal of motivation to be a part of it. Once people believe in some kind of magic, in something else out there, they tend to be a little fanatical about it. It becomes a passion in their lives.
I wonder if there is a kind of person who would believe that magic was, indeed, out there somewhere, but not want to participate in it. Is there a person who would say, "That's very interesting, but it's not for me. I'll just stay here and hammer new heels onto shoes all day and watch the futbol games on the television in the evenings and enjoy my relaxing life and not bother with those things?" I wonder. I'm not that person.
Kassi wrote a lovely post yesterday about this. It's very nice. You should read it.
How do you feel about magic? Is it out there? Do you want to know?
Later. Love.
P.S. - I posted two new little poems on my cogito writing site. They're called Drifting and Adventure. Check them out, if you'd like to. Thanks for stopping by.
