Life and magic are queer bed mates. Just as success and failure are off-tangent partners. Loyalty and friendship however are more likely to hang out together.  Life coaches in this lifetime agree that loyalty works in tandem with friendship. It is in fact the bedrock of friendship. Loyalty is the best tool so far in measuring the motive of a true friend whether good or otherwise. Unfortunately, it is a double-edged sword for loyalty is better understood when betrayal becomes the only option.

That I believe is the law of logic which sadly defies and negates the aftereffects of magic. I don’t really subscribe to this statement, although my brain is telling me I do. To be honest, my actual premise is that in every stage of human life like love or marriage there are constant tradeoffs. The joy of loving for example, becomes intense only when we experience the same degree of hatred.  Success becomes sweeter only after several bouts of repeated failure. Suffice to say, the full measure of wholeness depends largely on our status as remnants of brokenness. Only when we are floored down on our knees, can we power-up our souls to scale new heights. Only by then can we appreciate the beauty and true magic of wholeness and perceive things in a new light.

It is scary just as life and love is a frightening saga of trial and error. Ironically, it is also downright encouraging. The risk and pain may be that extreme, but the joy and rewards are too tempting to resist. That is where the magic truly lies. I hope I am making sense here.  On the other hand, I now fully understand why in the last twenty years, more and more self-confessed “commitment phobic” personalities are coming out. I reject (vehemently at that) the experts’ opinion that this aversion to commitment and keeping one’s vows is a symptom of unreliable personality.   I strongly believe this phobia to commitment merely mirrors a point in life where single blessedness becomes a happy option.

When life becomes quartered with rough edges, who wouldn’t succumb to change to heal themselves in the process. Maybe it is time to turn the other way. Maybe it is time to court nature instead, re-visit its contours and enjoy the little secrets of magic in the wild. Don’t get me wrong, I am not insinuating something lewd here.  What I really mean is give ourselves the needed break, smell the gift of silence and breathe in the glory of God’s creation with all its scars and ugliness. If the lambent moon is the answer to the mystery of the silken sun, then so be it.  And that, I say is magic.