Is Magic (Really) Real?

Today is our last magical essay for the launch of The Fool & the Threads of Time, because the Kickstarter is quickly coming to a close. You have until Sunday to back the campaign and get your magical goodies.

I’m going to tell you something that might come as a surprise: I’m not 100% sure magic is real.

I’ve had all sorts of experiences that feel incredibly magical, including conversing with spirit guides and getting very useful information; talking to a friend in a dream and later finding out they’d dreamt it, too; casting spells and then things happen that are awfully close (if not an exact match) to what I cast for; and the list goes on.

And yet.

Do I really, truly know if magic is real?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

There was a stretch in my youth when my parents were Evangelical Christians, and I became an Evangelical Christian, too. During that time, I believed all sorts of things that no longer ring true to me. These days, I’m more interested in what effects a belief has on my life and how tightly I’m holding onto said belief.

Believing that magic is real makes life feel, well…more magical. ✨ It inspires me to seek creative solutions to problems; it imparts a warm, fuzzy feeling that the universe has my back; and it encourages me to look beyond what meets the eye.

I enjoy these effects. I feel like they lead to wiser decisions and help me do brave things, even when it’s uncomfortable.

But my enjoyment of magic, the fact that magic enriches my life, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s real, and I certainly don’t think everybody else has to believe in magic, too. Here’s the thing: If there comes a time when my belief in magic is causing more harm than good, I sincerely hope I’ll have the courage to get very, very curious, and if need be, release that belief.

There’s an interesting parallel with writing.

Writing, in many ways, is a continual process of questioning every decision you make. Why that word, and why there? Would that character really behave that way? Why? Is that description confusing? Too long? Does it make the scene drag?

In fact, writing can teach us many things about the slippery overlap between truth and perception. Let’s take a look…

#1 You might be wrong (and that’s okay)

I can have the most fun ever writing a scene, only to go back and realize it’s actually kinda shit. 💩 As my fingers race over the keys, words spilling forth in a blaze of creative fire, there’s often a part of me looking on with stars for eyes, utterly convinced, By golly, this is GENIUS! 🤩

And you know what? While getting that first draft to the page, this inflated belief is super duper useful. It helps me push past the fear of maybe I have nothing of value to say, and it keeps my butt in the chair long enough to finish the job. First drafts are meant to be crap—it’s all good!

But.

If I let that starry-eyed part take charge of the revisions, guess what?

Nuh uh, I won’t do them! The writing’s already GENIUS, remember, and to accept that a scene needs polishing challenges this precarious idea. Nine times out of ten, getting unstuck requires spotting an unhelpful belief and releasing my white-knuckle grip.

#2 You might not know how to do what you need to do (and that’s okay)

It’s also possible I don’t yet have the skills to write the scene I’m envisioning. My starry-eyed part doesn’t know how to deal with this, not one teensy bit. Either things are already genius, or this part shrieks, kicking up a cloud of procrastination on its way out.

Thank god for Internal Family Systems and therapy, is all I’ve got to say. 😅

But really, not knowing is usually an indicator of growth in progress. Instead of hunkering down in the comfort zone, replaying your greatest hits, you’re whacking through the underbrush, blazing new trails. You are absolutely guaranteed to encounter stuff you don’t understand when you do this.

Well done, you!

#3 Things might get uncomfortable (and that’s okay)

🤩 Starry Eyes isn’t the only part in town, so while it’s busily proclaiming my genius to all the land, other parts are getting nervous. Let’s say I reread a scene, and it’s not as peachy as promised. When my inner parts aren’t connected via Self—meaning, when they’re operating in isolation—there’s no way to hold these conflicting experiences. *cue the hot-cold wash of cringe.*

Without the Self, I don’t know what to do with the belief that the scene is already amazing and the sense that it needs work. The conflict nags and doesn’t let go; one side has gotta be wrong. Right?

This dynamic plays out in relationships, too. If we aren’t able to tap into the holding, containing presence of Self, things get whittled down to either/or, and unless there’s total agreement, one person must be wrong.

In truth, inner conflict is a vehicle for growth. 🪴 Yes, we need to learn how to work with it, otherwise it becomes a festering source of stress, but the psyche expands when we learn how to hold multiple, conflicting ideas at the same time.

We don’t have to label one or the other as “truth,” but when we can acknowledge that they both exist, something new can take root.

#4 You only know what you know (and that’s okay)

There’s also the issue of not being able to tell, 100% of the time, when a scene isn’t working. This leaves my parts very unsettled. For instance, before I learned how backstory affects pacing and how to show setting through a character’s POV, I wasn’t able to spot rambling info dumps, whereas now, they stick out like a boring thumb. 👎

This fear of blind spots caused major anxiety in my relationships for decades. When I began learning how to communicate my boundaries, those conversations were often clunky as hell. And to be clear, it’s not like they’re flawless from here on out, but I’m better able to identify what I need and say that directly.

Similar to rereading an unpolished scene, thinking back on those conversations used to kick up a lot of shame. 🙁 To my inner parts, I somehow should have known better…but we only ever know what we know.

If we want to see what we’re capable of, build new skills, and push past our comfort zone, compassion is required.

I will make mistakes.

You will, too.

No amount of hypervigilance will prevent this 100%, and we keep ourselves so very small, and lose so much of our life force, in the trying.

#5 You can’t please everyone (and that’s okay)

Boy, is this ever true with writing. I was scrolling through reviews of a much-anticipated recent release that had tons of gushing five-star reviews like, “This is actually a seven star review! Favorite book of all time!!” Just when I was thinking, Wow, this book must be good, I hit a streak of irate one-star reviews: “How was this pile of trash even published??”

Right.

I have inner parts who look at this, and in a state of dissociated terror, proceed to search for the One Right Way to Write a Book. In case you’re wondering, it doesn’t exist. I mean, yes, there are plenty of books and courses out there claiming to reveal The Secret, but ultimately, every writer is on their own path.

I love reading craft books and learning new skills; it’s part of the process. But no book or teacher can tell me exactly what to do (subtext: in order to avoid criticism forever and ever). Instead, I have to give things a whirl, cobble together what works for me, solicit feedback from people I trust, and write write write.

And really, isn’t this just life?

There isn’t a path that will guarantee you’ll never disappoint anyone, never disappoint yourself, never do something you’ll regret.

Life, quite simply, doesn’t work that way. Instead, we do our best, and some days our best is a little sparklier than others (and that’s okay).

If I were a betting person, I’d wager you have something within you that wants to be expressed. Maybe it’s a book or a flower garden or an overdue conversation.

Maybe you’re not ready to do the thing today (or maybe you are), but I bet there’s something you can do, a step you can take that will move you a little bit closer.

Honoring those precious desires and tender dreams takes guts. It’s “easier” to pretend we don’t care, that it doesn’t really matter; it can wait. Later.

Or…what if now is the time? What if you don’t need to wait, if there will never be a perfect moment, if today will do just fine?

In a few days (Sunday), The Fool & the Threads of Time Kickstarter will be coming to a close. I’m so grateful for all your support, for reading these emails, for cheering me on—and if spicy romantasy is your cup of tea, for buying the book.

From my dreamer’s heart to yours,