Thursday, February 24, 2011

Littered With Magic

You could say..actually I will say, I believe in magic. Not disappearing white bunny rabbit magic a totally different kind of magic. I believe in the type of magic that moves you and awakens your soul from it's state of boredom. Magic that shakes your insides and causes you to perform and accomplish seemingly impossible things. The restlessness that keeps you from sleep. The constant sensation of being late for something but not knowing what. The raw need to fulfill a destiny. It's magic, and it is real. Somewhere in America, there is a child who dreams of being a better athlete than Lance Armstrong, and I believe if he has the magic, he will fulfil that destiny.

I feel without the magic I am a mear corpse aimlessly roaming this earth. I have spent my winter in this lost, wondering, state. No spunk, no ambition, no anxiousness, just drab and uuninspired. I've looked everywhere for my magic. I have held everyone around me as suspect of stealing it. I've ran for miles looking for it. I've  looked through pages and pages of books. Between couch cushions, inside of pizza boxes, I really have looked everywhere. My magic is gone. Like a crazed crack-head, I needed it back, I needed to be awake, I needed to be shaken.


As I walked my zombie ass into Daytona Speedway I was certain that the fire was gone and I would never see it again. On Friday somewhere between the bright blue Florida sky and the roaring of forty engines I stood back and felt the warmth of excitement in my soul again. The air in Daytona seemed different this year. There was a new and positive energy. I hope that it wasn't my lofty imagination turning a finger painting into a Picasso. I hope it was real for everyone. Every aspect seemed different. As the race cars hit the race track each event held it's own seeming impossible story.

The entire weekend was text book lessons on dreamers and destinies. A tear-filled Brian Kesolowski would get a shove from his brother to qualify him for a coveted starting spot in the Daytona 500. Landon Cassill, a young, hidden talent would go on to wheel his underfunded Phoenix racing machine into a podium position in the Nationwide race, lending him the platform he has been needing to display his talent. Daytona was littered with magic.

I arrived home and plopped down on my couch to watch the Daytona 500 with Watson. Completely typical I fell asleep for most of the race. I awoke just in time to see young driver, Trevor Bayne cross the finish line as the winner of the great American race in only his second start. "Am I dreaming right now" were the words Trevor said on his radio as he made his way to victory lane. My eyes filled with tears and my heart raced with excitement. I was excited for him but I was more excited about seeing the magic. The hope. The affirmation once again that dreaming big is still allowed. All is not lost. As I regained my composure and began scrolling through my Twitter feed I saw that many were touched and inspired. Maybe I wasn't the only person looking for some magic.

Trevor gave the Lord all the glory for that win. I often forget that the Lord knows when I need that magic and when I need to stumble around looking for it. The point is, I am never alone in this. No one is. Magic or not the dream is real and the desires of our hearts are real. The magic is seeing it come to life. 

"To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's still allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble." - Bill Watterson