Invite the Magic In
Day 1: One Month of Magic Writing Challenge
Welcome to One Month of Magic! Over the next month, we will use writing to explore the magic within us, our ability to shift experience and emotions to become closer to who we want to be.
Today, we will examine our relationship with magic—conjuring its presence.
But first, I want to ask yourself if you believe in magic. Really. What experiences have you had where magic was undeniably present? Heartbreakingly absent? Why are you ready to invite it in now? What do you want magic to know about you?
Read “The Invitation,” one of my favorite children's poems by Shel Silverstein and consider how you invite magic in.
Prompt: Write a letter in which you invite magic into your life. What can you offer magic? Tea and cookies? Complete awe and a wide-open heart? What should magic know about you? Tell it why you are here and what you need. How do you want magic to show up for you? What do you want from it? What would you like magic to teach you? How do you hope it will change you?
One Month of Magic guidelines:
For the month of July, post a daily prompt to inspire magical thinking.
Read and respond to the prompt by writing for seven, seventeen, or seventy-seven minutes—whatever you like—exploring what it stirs inside you. That’s it. It’s easy and breezy and designed to make you consider things deeper to search for sparkle.
After you write, post your response in the comments section of that day's post (only available to paid subscribers). Offer feedback to at least two people. Celebrate and clarify what is magical about one another’s work. How it deepened your own awareness and awe.
Posts will NOT be emailed—don’t want to spam people—but they will be posted on chat. So, if you want a daily magical ping, turn the chat feature and notifications on. You can find how in your settings.
Dear Magic,
I hope you’ll come visit soon: My apartment awaits with open arms! Seeing as I’ve just moved, there’s no couch here yet to sit on while discussing all the ways we’ll light up the world together. Furthermore, the shower sometimes leaks tears (I can relate) and I’ve only yesterday found out how to keep the dryer happy (did you know some dryers have a drawer for collecting all the wrung-out water, and one must empty it oneself? …I did not).
But: I’ve got more tea than you could slurp in a lifetime of pixie dust, a lovely real-wood table to set it on, and just enough disrespect for recipes that cooking is always an adventure. At my place all artificial lights are out by 9 p.m.—after that, only candles. I lie in bed listening to a novel before falling asleep: something light, imaginative, fancy-tickling. You’d love it here. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the meadow and river just outside, to the north and east, respectively. Sunrise over the river? Yes please.
I hope you’ll remind me to write every day, and help me find the right words when I’ve come up empty. I hope you’ll rub off on me a bit so that after you leave, I’m a little more like you. I love the way you color everything golden hour, find the flowers growing through the pavement cracks, and can crack a joke when it’s dark. You call weeds wildflowers and start looking for adventure as soon as plans start unraveling—or maybe pull the first thread yourself. I’ve lost some of that mischief and mystery, but maybe you can be my summer school tutor this year.
Do come, and we’ll romp and frolic till we live rent-free for ages in the minds of everyone who sees us :-)
Love,
Kendra
These are so beautiful, it's taking my breath away <3 Thank you, all, for being here.