Magic

These are the last lines in the last book Roald Dahl ever wrote, a children's book titled, "the Minpins," that was published in 1991, after his death the year before. I do not know when I first heard it, but by 1991 I was certainly not a child anymore, though I was in many ways very childlike. I do know that it was not until I began my exploration into more ethereal things after I got sober (or, clean, if that matters to you) that I stumbled upon it.

That term, "magic," can mean many things - and to me, over the years, it has meant many different things, but it has never meant any kind of hocus-pocus, even though I do associate the term with illusionists, the quintessential "magic show." And, in that respect, it has some distinct parallels. Magic, for me, is what happens beneath the surface, what is going on behind the façade. I do not equate it with anything supernatural - including all such stories from all religions. That said, the source of it all very well could be the same - the unexplainable.

There are too many things to list, things we take for granted today, that would have been absolute witchcraft just a century ago. It was the wonder of those who both believed in and sought to explain the unexplainable that created what we have today - the marvels of science and invention. Yet, as much as we now know, we still do not know so much - it is, still, veritable magic. However, discovery and belief in the magic we seek requires suspending many other, often baseless, beliefs. It is not easy, but for those who believe, who are compelled to forever seek, it is necessary.