A Little Room for Magick
There is something about Halloween that makes an ordinary neighborhood feel full of possibility. A porch becomes a gathering place. A candle gives a pumpkin a personality. We open the door expecting to be surprised, and for a few hours, asking someone what they want to be is an invitation to play.
I love that we still make room for a night like this. Adults choose costumes, put little ghosts in the garden, and buy the candy they secretly hope will be left over. We participate in the make-believe. We give imagination somewhere to go.
It makes me wonder what else might find its way into our lives if we left a little room for it.
And that brings me to a question worth carrying into Halloween: What do I experience as sacred in an ordinary day, and how do I make room for it?
I think about the small things we do with care. Choosing a particular mug because it belonged to someone we love. Stepping outside to look at the moon before going to bed. Making a familiar recipe and finding ourselves remembering the hands that first taught us. These moments have texture, memory, and meaning. We bring something of ourselves to them, and sometimes we leave feeling a little more connected.
Perhaps that is one place to begin exploring magick: with the experiences that invite us to pay attention and participate.
A candle on the dinner table can become a reason to linger. A handful of fallen leaves can become something beautiful for the next person who passes. A favorite song can coax us out of our chair and into a version of ourselves we enjoy spending time with. Such simple choices, yet they can change how we inhabit an afternoon.
What happens when we begin making those choices on purpose?
This is part of what I love about being a Soul Traveler.
Curiosity gives us permission to approach something familiar from a different direction. We can ask why an old house captures our imagination, why a certain season feels like home, or why we keep returning to a particular story. We can follow an interest long enough to discover what it means to us.
Halloween offers a particularly playful doorway into that exploration. The costumes alone hold a few good questions. What would be fun to try on? What part of ourselves enjoys an invitation to come out and play? And when the costume comes off, is there something we would like to keep—the boldness, the mischief, the ease of being a beginner?
There may be a little information about our lives tucked inside what delights us.
Tonight, between answering the door and checking the candy bowl, I invite you to notice what draws you in. The smell of a bonfire. A story you want to hear again. The pleasure of seeing someone fully committed to a ridiculous costume. Let yourself enjoy it long enough to be part of it.
Then consider this: What would you like to carry from this evening into an ordinary Tuesday?
Perhaps you would light the candles more often. Invite someone over for a story and a cup of tea. Wear the interesting thing hanging in your closet. Give yourself an afternoon with no greater ambition than following your curiosity.
On this day of magick, I hope we leave a little room for whatever makes us feel awake to our own lives. There is still so much to notice, so much to wonder about, and so much of ourselves to meet along the way.
🎧Listen to Embrace the Night (Songer.co):
There’s No Place Like Soul 🪴
Comments