I believe in magic.

I started this post back in November of 2015 and never finished it. Not sure if I was embarrassed by it or simply afraid to share this part of myself. It would occasionally taunt me from my inbox, saying “you can run, but you can’t hide.”

No more. It’s time to raise my magic-loving flag and wave it proudly. I am a rational and logical gal who also believes in things that go boom in the night.


For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by stories of magic and things that cannot be explained.

I love any and all vampire movies (I blame Buffy The Vampire Slayer for that). I’m still obsessed with The Ghost Whisperer. I had a big stint watching The Listener before it went off air here. And Merlin. I’m sure there are more, but those are the first that come to mind.

I’m also strangely fascinated by and drawn to things that I can’t explain. Things like angels and guides, spirits, past lives, energy work, and holistic practices that can’t be explained without a background in quantum physics. Or a huge leap of faith.

I believe in every day magic, like creativity and imagination. I love stories like the ones Elizabeth Gilbert shared in Big Magic* about an idea for a book taking residence with someone else. And there are a million others just like that one.

When I stop and think about how life is made, I literally can’t wrap my brain around it. I mean, I know the science behind it, but HOW DOES IT ACTUALLY HAPPEN? The sheer number of things that have to happen just right in order for an egg and a sperm to meet. And even then, there’s no guarantee of anything taking shape.

I believe in love, and the power that it has to transform the world.

In light of all of the craziness, unhappiness, and hatred in the world, I choose to believe in magic instead.

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