Magic Is Real (and It Matters)

I’ve always longed to believe in magic.

When I was young, I relegated myself to a tiny sliver of my twin bed because dozens of carefully arranged stuffed animals took up the rest of the real estate. When I awoke in the middle of the night, I moved the ones I’d kicked off the bed back under the covers because I fervently hoped they came alive when I was sleeping and didn’t want them to get cold or lonely.

On my walks through the woods, I imagined mythical creatures hiding in every nook and cranny and desperately hoped one day I’d be worthy enough to meet them.

I spent more hours than I can count trying to have conversations with our dog and cats.

But once I started school, the world became too small for magic. Textbooks, teachers, and the laws of science left no room for it, and I was forced to let go of my dreams of partying teddy bears, reclusive unicorns, and highly opinionated pets.

So imagine my surprise when, forty years later, I discovered that magic is not only real, but surprisingly common.

It happened when I was walking through the autumn forest in a nearby nature preserve and came across a doe and her nearly-grown fawn.

I knew this particular pair. I often wander off-trail in the preserve, letting my body lead wherever it wants to go. Most of the time, it seems to want to go where the deer are and leads me directly to them.

At least twice the previous spring, it had led me straight to a fawn (the same one, I believe) who was hidden in the underbrush while she waited for her mom to return. She was unbearably adorable, and I felt a strong connection to her. We’d passed some lovely moments together.

On this early fall afternoon, as I stood and silently greeted both deer, the mama suddenly folded her front legs into a kneel, then collapsed full-on into the deer equivalent of a La-Z-Boy lounge. It surprised me, since she was only about thirty feet away—quite close for a deer. The young one was a little further away but soon plopped onto her belly just like her mom.

I can’t explain how deeply honored I was that they felt safe enough around me to make themselves so vulnerable. I was standing there, open-mouthed and overcome, when suddenly the exhaustion of an unusually busy few weeks hit me hard, and I too sank to the ground.

I sat there and watched the concentrated autumn sunlight hit the leaves from behind, making them glow green and gold in front of a brilliant blue sky. Tree trunks stood around me like the legs of giants, silently bearing witness to the soft flick of deer’s ears and the explosive bursts of bounding squirrels.

A deep sense of peace seeped into my bones from the earth. As I sat with the deer and felt their serene energy in my own body, I realized something—

This is pure magic.

If you’re not convinced, let’s recap:

1. My body very often knows where the deer are and leads me to them, long before I’m able to see, hear, or otherwise sense them.
2. Two deer—animals just as beautiful and powerful as the most revered mythical creatures—reposed next to me, even though they know humans as dangerous predators.
3. The experience suffused me with an immense joy that filled my entire being with light and convinced me of the goodness of the world, despite all evidence to the contrary.

What is that if not magic?

As naturalist and master tracker Jon Young likes to say, this kind of magic isn’t supernatural—it’s super-natural. We just don’t usually notice it because we’re moving too quickly or are too distracted, or we convince ourselves it doesn’t exist.

But magic isn’t just real—it’s essential.

I’ve spent much of my life trying to find the right ideas, knowledge, skills, relationships, activities, career path, home, belongings, or anything else that will give me what I long for. But after reposing with the deer, I realized that nothing I could acquire in this world could make me feel happier or more fulfilled.

Could it be so simple? That all I needed was to discover the magic around me?

Because it isn’t often obvious what our magic is, and your magic isn’t the same as mine.

I think we know instinctively what it is when we’re kids, but we’re trained to give it up, and we certainly don’t know how to find it amid adult worries and responsibilities.

It took me decades to remember that my magic often lies in reading and creating stories, connecting deeply with others, and spending time with the wild beings around me, big and small.

Other people find their magic in music, art, dance, relationships, and many other things.

So what I want to know is—

What’s magic for you? Where might it be hiding in plain sight?

• Where, what, or with whom do you feel, at least in moments, that anything is possible?
• What satisfies all your longings?
• What are you drawn to that doesn’t make any sense?
• What makes you forget who you are, but also—on a whole different level—remember?
• When do amazing things happen that you didn’t orchestrate?

I’d truly love to know. Please drop a comment to share.

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First featured fawn photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash