Sometimes Magic Isn’t Magic at All, If It Doesn’t Start from the Heart!

Magic happens within us, and it begins when we identify our essence, our core Self, the basic life energy bound in this physical body. In fact, Walt Whitman’s poem, which I have quoted several times, speaks to this. Actually, I think the spiritual energy of the kind of magic I spoke of last night drives the poem, “O Me, O Life.”

The famous ending of the poem comes after a questioning of the meaning, significance, and purpose of life when the narrator looks around at all of life and decides it’s all useless. He asks the question “What good amid these, O me, O life?” I think this is akin to when we get to the point of exasperation and cry out to our heart, or maybe just cry out to the air, and Heart answers.

​What is the answer? Many of you know it: “Answer / That you are here, that life exists and identity / That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.” The essence of eternal Sprit is bound within each of us. We must call on our heart to gain access to this identity we bear in this life. When we do, the magic begins, and that magic consists of contributing to this life.

Yes, the magic is in connecting with others through our core Self identity. And we will come to know our purpose, and living that purpose expresses our love. Then, we perpetuate magic as we make this offering of love. It’s an amazing, wonderful unity, a connectedness, that in some ways seems selfish at the outset, because we must, must, must focus on discovering Self.

To just start doing what society or others want or demand of us is not love, not at all, even if we appear to be very successful at it and happy in cycles. It is self destruction, no matter how much we please others or they praise us. Why? Eventually anyone who sacrifices their true self, their true identity to meet others’ expectation or whims will end up asking the question, whether consciously or subconsciously, “What good amid these, O me, O life?” And that’s a good question, if you hear the answer of your heart, if you discover self.

In my novel, The Fellowship of the Heart, Anne Lafarnge seems to have found something that makes her happy, but does all the apparent success mean that she has discovered core Self? Well, my readers will decide that, eventually. In the following journal entry Anne makes after a career success, one little word whispers somewhere within her subconscious as she composes a journal entry.
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June 5, 2031 Well, it’s been a year and a half since I’ve been here — a lot has happened — a lot has changed. I’m ecstatic with my new position. I have authority. I haven’t played the gender card, and I’m proud of that, proud that my work merited Paul’s backing. God, to be honest here, I’m really attracted to him, that confidence and power that he exudes. He knows what he wants and gets it. He’s putting that energy into me, investing in me, and it’s flattering. Hell, yes, it’s flattering. Power. Ambition. It’s exactly what I’m feeling tonight. I would love to share it with somebody, almost anybody. What a contrast to Eric, especially lately. I’m so disappointed in him. He has no ambition, it seems. Jack and Peter have trusted him and groomed him for a partnership in the firm, and he has just let the ball drop. Why? And he’s showing very little interest or enthusiasm in my career. We used to be so together in this. A mopey-ass man is not very attractive, and I need attractive. Now. Tonight. And he’s not here. Wouldn’t matter, would it? I have seen so many relationships end. This can’t be what’s happening to us could it? Maybe it’s a good thing that we haven’t had a child or adopted one. I feel almost no connection with him. What in the hell is he doing with his life, his career, our life? God, this part of my life depresses me, really. Eric is confusing me, and I don’t like and can’t afford that. I’ve put so much into us I’ve neglected having really close friends, and here I am, fucking alone on a night I really want to share with someone. Someone who cares about me. Why? I’m finished with this. I’m not going down Eric’s path. I don’t need wallowing in self-pity. I’m a senior associate of Paragon Engineering! Yes!
Maybe I’m like Paul; I’ve wanted this and now I’m getting it. I’ll have real power, real authority and be able to contribute more to the profession. I want to use the new materials technology in this project. Kathy and Ed should be useful for that — younger and familiar with newer trends. Hell! Right now I don’t really care. Do you hear this journal? I’m finally important. Will Eric respect me more? Of course not. He’s not even here. He could have waited. He didn’t, and I don’t care. Why?

With that, she set the pen down and raised her glass of port in the air. “To Anne Lafarnge and new beginnings, new hopes, new achievements.” She gulped the rest of the wine, without really savoring it. She read over her journal entry, she smiled, but then a very brief chill swept through her.

She decided to retreat upstairs, took a long, soaking, aromatic bath, and slipped into her nightclothes. She played her favorite music through her H-com, allowing the holograph of the musicians to play. At least it felt like she was sharing the evening with someone. The release of the day’s and night’s proceedings contented her. She fell asleep quickly, but the night was a restless one for her, some recurring impression, dream of someone, something asking with drooping head and sagging shoulders, “Why?”
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No magic, no matter how enchanted one’s life may seem, begins without being able to name who core Self is. No one. And without magic, people continually circle back to a restless questioning of their purpose in being here.

​Walt had it. Anne doesn’t. Where do you and I stand?