Magic happens
when we are distracted
by the ordinary.
There is no sleight of hand,
simply a hole in the fabric of reality
where we’re not looking.
These holes are everywhere.
All around us.
We conceal galaxies in them.
But that’s irrelevant,
because we’re transfixed by the shells.
Containing nothing.
Trail Wood,
8/27
Indeed, magic often chooses to reveal itself amidst the mundane, slipping through the cracks of our attention to create moments of wonder. It’s not a trick, nor a calculated act of deception; it’s the artistry of existence, unfolding in the spaces where our gaze is momentarily diverted.
The ordinary, with its familiar contours and unassuming presence, lulls us into a sense of complacency. And in these moments of distraction, the extraordinary emerges. It’s as if reality itself parts its curtains, inviting us to glimpse the hidden mysteries that reside just beyond the surface.
There’s no need for the magician’s sleight of hand; the true magic lies in the enchantment of everyday moments. The fabric of reality weaves itself with threads of the extraordinary, creating gaps and openings where universes reside, galaxies are born, and beauty blossoms in silence.
And yet, how often do we become captivated by the shells—the external trappings that seem to promise grandeur but often contain nothing of true significance? The allure of materiality, of appearances, blinds us to the vastness that lies beneath the surface.
But those who seek the magic, who peer beyond the veils of illusion, find themselves privy to the secrets of existence. They recognize that galaxies are concealed in the gaps, that the profound dwells within the ordinary, and that the shells are but transient adornments.
So let us be the seekers of magic, the discoverers of the extraordinary in the midst of the everyday. Let us shift our gaze from the shells to the spaces between, where universes collide, where mysteries dance, and where the heart of reality beats in a rhythm of enchantment.
Trail Wood,
8/27