I’ve come to realize that the older i get, the more magic i see, appreciate and want to create. But then, there are those who try to dim our sense of awe, who concernedly avoid the word as it doesn’t correctly and rationally integrate in their world. But we mustn’t allow their perceptions to obliterate the magic dimensions. Because magic is real. Because magic is in you and me, and stretched as far as we allow ourselves to see. It’s the thread linking all to all, an interconnected web of relationships woven as a cosmic whole. Magic is in your pulse, in your glands. It is in the grain of sand. Magic is holding hands and squeezing loved ones in a warm embrace. Magic happens when you stand your ground and stand up for what matters. When you cry for hours and feel the pain of others. Magic is when you talk to trees, plants and seeds, when you appreciate their artistry through which you breathe, sustain life, and heal. Magic is in making love – penetration to mystic ascension. Magic happens at birth and death, manifestation of the unseen only felt in our hearts and the wavelengths in – between. Magic lives in all creatures and living beings, and in our consideration and actions towards their well -being. Magic is in friendship, in travel, music and art, magic is in every fresh start. Magic happens when you give love, and when you open yourself to receive even more. Magic is in weakness and sorrow too, magic is in our persistence no matter how faded the hope. Magic happens when you let go. Magic is your spirit that transforms all that which doesn’t belong. Magic is a helping hand to those in need and those who bleed. One thing that magic is not, is fleeting in this world of mental drought. Because to know magic you must walk the path of heart and only then will you come to see how it pervades both space and time.