This text was initially published in September 2022, and I remember it vividly as the first time I realized how happy and fulfilled writing makes me. At the time, I had been doing a lot of burnout-related exercises with my Psychologist, searching for a “happy place” in my work activities.
Making peace with the chilly breeze that announces autumn, taking mini-vacations despite screaming deadlines, a random Wednesday dedicated to reading and writing: I'm on a quest for magic.
Writing these words with my laptop on my lap, on my balcony, under the blue sky, feeling the sun's warmth on my cold feet, drowning out the city's noise with Philip Glass: I'm on a quest for magic.
I'm trying to find ordinary magic in the colors and flavors that nourish me, in the smell of fresh coffee, in silence, in the calm of dawn, in thoughts, in the grace of living healthily, and in the buzz of my mind that makes me who I am. These are the little everyday gems hidden by our busy lives.
I want to feel breathless without waiting any longer. After all, everything you know about me today started with an old feeling of restlessness, a desire that seemed like fantasy: to live a life that felt like a vacation. I want the thrill of living freely, exploring new horizons, and truly experiencing life. I planted this future with all its traits of utopia, but with maybe some luck—and a lot of commitment—I've been harvesting it year after year.
The harshness of life distracts us from magic. I had even forgotten it existed, standing there, staring at me, silently screaming for my attention. It's right there beside you, too, I'm sure of it. I'm learning to make room for fear and doubt without letting them take over. It’s Magic that has to run the show.
I'm writing these words as I make a pact with myself: to give shape and voice to magic every day, all the time. It deserves the spotlight, and I (and you, too) deserve life's abundance.
As I finish writing this, I lean back, and the sun's golden rays touch my face. It's warm and comforting, so I smile. The piano has given way to the violin, and I remember how much I like how it sounds.
The day is coming to an end. It was ordinary; I was home in sweatpants and messy hair. It was perfect.