Sometimes all we need are miracles. Something extraordinary. Something inexplicable. Something that breaks through the mundane walls of everyday life. A respite. A change.
They ask me why I’m a dreamer. They don’t know how much I believe in magic. It doesn’t necessarily have to be flying on broomsticks or turning bullies into tiny animals.
The title says magic. You thought there were going to be no Harry Potter jokes? Pshh.
Harry Potter gives a good intro to all things magical but it also puts this idea in our head that magic is only about Alohomora and Avada Kedavra is wondrous. When I say I believe in magic, I’m not saying I think I’ll sprout wings if I jump off from a ten story building. I believe in the smaller things. I think it’s magical when I find a new friend who shares the same guilty pleasures I do. I think it’s magical when I find crumpled up money in the pocket of an old jeans. When someone from my past hits me up after years. When the sun sets and my room is covered in a reddish-yellow hue.
And in the bigger things. Like when someone makes an unexpected recovery from a disease. When someone close to you was addicted to a harmful substance and start taking steps to quit. When a couple cancels their divorce at the last minute. When two people who hate each other decide to put their pasts behind and lend a hand for friendship.
I guess all I’m trying to say is that magic doesn’t have to be glitter and pixies and hobbit holes. It is inside us, in the choices we make everyday, in the actions we take, in the words we say. We can do magic everyday. Just pass a smile to someone who looks sad and see.
Here’s some from me. Or well… Selena Gomez. But the intention is mine, I swear.