Every Day, This Moment

I believe in magic. And by magic, I mean not only the big things, like faeries and miraculous wonders, but also the small daily magics, like synchronicity, messages from nature, the sound of a crow to remind you to pay attention. I am so very thankful I believe in all of these things. But even though this world we live in may be messed up and sometimes seem hopeless, you can still feel a sense of wonder even if you don’t believe in magic. (Gasp!) The simplest mechanics of this world alone are enough to marvel at for a lifetime or several.

All it takes is a garden. And an eye for the simplest of things. At the end of winter, looking out at my back yard, I despair. How, I ask myself, will we ever resurrect this into anything but chaos? We start to rake, and trim, and pull, and bag up leaves and debris. And finally, we are able to give nature a blank canvas again. 

That’s when the magic starts.

Even if you know every part and portion of the science behind it, the fact remains a marvel that life creates itself in spring. Stop and think for just a moment about what an absolute, jaw-dropping spectacle it is that one day a square foot of dirt can be smooth and empty, and the next, there is a plant there. The plant hasn’t been waiting underground fully formed, but instead slowly makes itself from the aether of the universe day by day. Cell by cell, molecule by molecule, verdant green young spring life builds itself up. It can be both fascinating and a little discomfiting to watch a fast-motion video of plants growing in spring, because to see this act of self creation happen so quickly, we have to acknowledge just how strange a marvel it really is. One day there is nothing. The next day there is life. I hope the day never comes that I get over how incredible a thing this is.

Beyond this, just think of the way we experience this one little life. Day by day, moment by moment, the only reality that is truly real is the present. And although some of us have better recall than others (I am very jealous of those who do, since my memory is absolutely swiss cheese hole-ridden), even the best of us cannot recall a memory in every single detail as if it was still the present. There have been so many times that I will be filled with gratitude for the simple pleasure of an ordinary moment, and I will tell myself “Remember this. Remember every little thing about this moment.” I will look around at the sun, at the shadows, at the feel of the grass under my feet, the smell of the petrichor in the air, and try to impress every single element of the moment into memory. But it never works. Ever. 

So it’s true, literally all we have in life is this present moment. Of course it can be important to look to the future and plan and prepare. It can be emotional to look back at the past, both in good and bad ways. But both past and present are really as ephemeral as the Faerie Realm. All we truly have is now. This one, incredibly short now that becomes a new now, and a new now, on and on and on for hopefully a good long life. 

The world creates itself new for us daily. And all we have is now. What will you do with yours?