A little bit of magic…

 

Greetings fellow magicians!

As of late, a bit of magic has been in the air.  I feel it this time of year, every year.  It rustles through the trees, beckoning me to be guided by it.  The smells, the sounds, and the air of fall brings about a sense of magic and wonder.  Leaves change color and the Earth is transformed into a canvas painted by an unseen artist.  The roots of the trees dig in a little deeper this time of year to prepare for Winter’s quiet retreat. If your still enough, you can hear the life on Earth preparing for its journey inward, hibernation.

This time of year, I search for things to express this magic that I feel.  Certain rituals to help me and my family prepare for the long, quiet journey inward.  Pumpkin picking, harvest festivals, bon fires and s’mores, long walks through dark corn mazes, brisk morning hikes through the trees, acorn collection, and soup-making.  The anticipation of the gatherings to come where families share in the abundance that the year has provided. These seasonal changes bring about a rhythm to our life.  We trust that they come each and every year.  We revel in gratitude that another year has gone by, just as the year before, and trust that another one will come again.

While fall naturally brings about feelings of joy, gratitude, and abundance and a general giving of thanks, they are feelings that bring about a bit of magic all year long.  Living by way of gratitude and trust opens us up to the natural flow and rhythm of our lives.  Trust is a natural anchor; our own roots that allow us to dig in a bit deeper as we prepare for our inner journey.  When we live by trust, we allow ourselves to be guided by the bigger force in our lives.  Stepping into a divine flow or a natural order of things. Nature has no fear, no ego, no hesitation – its guided by instinct.  Its own principles, rhythms, cycles, and balance.  It is that force that informs squirrels to gather nuts for the winter, or bears to sleep for months at a time only to trust that it will be woken when ready for spring.

How do we honor and live by trust?  It is the small daily actions of living in trust.  It is the belief that we are enough, that we have enough, and that there is enough for everyone.  It is the surrender of control and trying  on the belief that everything will work out as it needs to.  It is the release of expectations regarding people, money, relationships, and how things should be – including yourself! It is sitting with the discomfort of the unknown, the unresolved, and the uncomfortable without fixing it / changing it / controlling it or running from it. Just as we trust the sun to rise, the rain to stop, the seasons to change,  there is nothing to “do” but “allow”. It’s a bit of magic to see how orchestrated your life actually is, when you step back and ALLOW!

Every piece of artwork I create takes an act of trust.  I trust I will create what is meant to be created.  I trust that the art will express what it needs to express.  I trust that I will create lines and patterns in the moment that will fill the space.  I trust that if the image created is not beautiful, that it was still meant to be created.  I trust that if the art I produce isn’t loved by others, that it doesn’t mean that I am not an artist, meant to create artwork, or loved by others.  I trust in the rhythm of my work, the process, and the expression.  I focus on the creation and disconnect from the outcome.  I allow myself to be guided by my instincts.

Yesterday was an act of trust.  A grounding was necessary after days and weeks of ongoing movement in my family with things that needed to get done and places we needed to be on time.  I was restless.  I was agitated. I needed to reconnect.  Instead of fixing, seeking, changing, doing – I worked on “being”.  I made a wreath by weaving, glueing, and punching felt.  I set intentions for my week.  I lit a candle and put on music that spoke to my soul. I burned wood with a tool to create new art and put a pot of something nourishing on the stove.  I watched my son dump rocks over and over again.  It seemed we both needed a day of ritual and repetition.  An act of trust. An act of being.  An act of allowing.  A knowing that everything will resolve in its time and if we wait, listen, and be present – we might just get a little bit of magic.

 

And a picture of my wreath!

“Toadstool Forest”, Pen and ink on Bristol Board – if you want a bit of magic in your space, check out my work on http://www.etsy.com/shop/lrwinter

HeartFULLY,

Leah Reitz Winter