Magic in the Moment

“Your stories, the English I mean, contain magic. Mysticism. Our American stories are more realistic…Tom Sawyer for us, Mary Poppins for you.”

Becoming Mrs. Lewis, Joy Davidman

The healthier I become the more I long for magic and mystical moments in life. I look for sweet escapes and new adventures. More childlike and playful, I find myself believing the impossible is possible.

My dad always says, “Anything can happen on any given day!” Usually, he’s talking about soccer games or March Madness upsets. Whatever the case, it has stuck with me and I don’t ever want this phrase to leave my mind. I want to believe in the impossible. I want to keep looking for the unexpected. It keeps me alive, hopeful and engaged.

This very belief is what led me to the United Kingdom over Spring Break with a good friend. Back in January, I told my friend, Kelsey, “I need out of the United States. Just help me catch my breath abroad for a second.”

Kelsey didn’t hesitate. “Ok! Where do you want to go?”

A little hesitant, checking the pulse of what I’ve currently been drawn to, “London!” I said.

British shows littered my Netflix and Amazon lists. A journal sat on my coffee table with an over-simplified hand-drawn map of London. A slight obsession with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert was forming from the PBS show Victoria. I had recently seen Mary Poppins Returns – twice in the theater – and felt all the feels both times surrounded by a crew of my friends’ kids or my niece and nephews. All signs seemed to be pulling me to this place. It seemed “practically perfect in every way,” just like Mary Poppins herself was calling me to one of her curious adventures.

Kelsey wisely said, “London it is! Make your list and we’ll add on a few stops I’ve never been to.” Enter: Wales, Bristol, Stonehenge, Bath, and a few extra roundabouts along the way. We were set for the most magical trip.

The trip wasn’t perfect. We didn’t see everything, we didn’t jump in line for all of the tours, and we didn’t go everywhere. We got lost, turned around. We went round and round with the rental car company about different issues. We had our hangry, too-tired-to-stand-up on the Tube, and irritatingly indecisive moments.

Do you know what we did do? We found magic in the moment. When people asked me afterward, “What was your favorite part of the trip?” I hesitated to answer. It was quite a simple answer: the magic.

It was the brasserie restaurant where we made friends with the wait staff. It was the six-year-old boy as he watched us gleefully giggle over our banoffee pie. It was how he giggled with us and asked in his British accent, “Um, excuse me, but can I ask where you are from?” This one giggle, one question sparked a lovely conversation with his family one table over.

It was the hours spent exploring the cliffs and bays along the coast of Wales. It was the way Kelsey spotted every castle on a hill that popped up out of nowhere, while I always responded, “Wait! What? Where?” It was The Mumbles’ love of ice cream, an ice cream shop at every corner. It was climbing the rocky sea hewn terrain to reach the lonely lighthouse. It was the way we unspokenly agreed a lighthouse is meant to be explored and not just seen from afar.

It was the very British Jack, Jeff, and Greg who stopped us at a local pub mesmerized by our Americanness. It was the way they were entertained by our accents and even more entertained by their own corny jokes. It was how we parted ways with the three tweed wearing flat cap chaps, laughing all the way back to our friend’s flat. 

It was eating our perfectly proper porridge in Trafalgar Square with the perfectly proper sunshine. It was the guy who danced through the frame of the perfectly proper photo opp as we turned for one last look at the striking statue of Nelson’s Column splitting the sky. It was our awe of exploring the National Portrait Gallery, the excitement of meeting our own royal celebrities: a floor to ceiling painting of Prince Albert, and a painting of young Queen Elizabeth nestled nearby.

It was stumbling upon Buckingham place when in reality we were hunting for Victoria Beckham’s clothing store. It was all the nook and cranny places we discovered walking in circles at Piccadilly Circus just to find Victoria’s store. It was the dress of perfection hanging in that store and the magic moment a woman’s voice behind me said, “Perhaps, you would like to try it on?”

I know all of this sounds more magical because it’s not Kansas. It’s not the mundane everyday stuff of a medium sized midwest town in the United States.

Ok, so it might sound a little more magical but quite honestly it’s not. I was so desperate to go somewhere far away because I could feel it in my bones, I needed to remember how to explore somewhere new. To be scared of the unknown. To do things I’ve never done before. To experience new sights and sounds. When I feel myself forgetting how to explore the magic in the moment I know I need a reminder. I need a perfectly proper adventure, near or far.

There is always a long list of excuses or perfectly practical reasons not to do something. The flight is so expensive. London will be too rainy and cold at that time of year. I should stay home and rest. I should go on the family vacation instead of my own adventure.

The same happens when I start to look at local adventures. I shouldn’t sign up for that thing I love because I’m a grown adult. I’ll look like a fool. I could never make time for that. It costs too much money. I won’t be any good. I can’t find anyone to go with me. I’d rather just stay home. It doesn’t fit my schedule. We get stuck in a rut of excuses.

When we stay in these ruts, no matter how comfortable, we risk missing the magic of the moment. We stay stuck scrolling through Instagram, staring at others’ magical moments. We wish our lives had the same filter as those isolated images. We go round-and-round in our minds focused on the perfectly irritating, frustrating, isolating, boring mundane moments of our own. We can’t help but jump on the merry-go-round of venting. We can’t see any shimmer of magic. It all looks like dust and cinders needing to be swept clean. Who else is going to clean but us? No one else is helping with the chores and responsibilities of life.

Our logical practical side of the brain speaks louder. Practicality can be beneficial. It helps us think through options, weigh the pros and cons. It helps us survive and function. It helps us prioritize and adapt. However, it can be quick to shush our dreaming, believing, childlike side of life.

How do we honor that creative curiosity wired into our core? How do we give it a voice? An outlet? How do we let it bring magic and life back into our daily moments?

Personally, I had to immerse myself in a culture built on stories of magic and whimsy. The U.K. was perfect for a lightning bolt of magic. My restless heart needed a place to get scared and uncomfortable. I needed to feel small again in a big world. Instead of watching others’ magical moments, I needed to choose something for myself and watch the magic unfold.

Looking for magic in the moment does come with a cost. It costs us our comfort, pride, and habits. It means stepping out in fear, asking someone else for help, and trying something foreign.

I find it helpful to look around at people I admire, people placed in my path, and ask them to teach me their ways. Kelsey loves to travel. It’s amazing to me how she picks up and goes somewhere. Look around. Who are the people you want to learn from? Whose magical moments have you been watching?

Start somewhere, big or small. It doesn’t have to be a transatlantic trip. It doesn’t have to dwindle your savings account. It doesn’t have to require an overcommitment of your time.

Magic is best seen in the simple things. The child’s story rooted in pure imagination. The new brew of coffee you try. The loved one’s smile you magically hear over the phone even when distance separates you. The evening walks outside instead of on a treadmill. It can be quite simple.

Go ahead, start looking for magic in the moment. It reminds us to live lighter. It keeps us engaged with beauty. It helps us smile with awe and wonder. The simplicity of magic in the moment winds up leading us to believe the impossible is actually possible.

What’s your favorite part about life? I hope it’s the magic all around you.

Resources:

Callahan, Patti. Becoming Mrs. Lewis. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2018.

Pictures by Kelsey Beckman & Brooke Johnson