I tend revisit books that lift my spirit. During times of sadness, I’ll turn to my collection of sacred texts and choose the one that calls to me. As 2019 began, I really needed inspiration. The end of 2018 was complicated. We closed on our first home–– a new beginning filled with possibilities. But I also lost my grandmother in the same week–– an ending filled with deep sorrow. Both opposite parts of life right before me.

So I turned to Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. 

I’ve come to believe there are no coincidences. Life’s timing taught me that long ago, so I know these two events following each other is not some mere happenstance. I also know better than to fight my feelings, so I felt both my heartache and excitement. I really tried my hardest to accept their complicated coexistence in my heart. It’s fair to say at the start of 2019, I really, really wanted to have faith. I missed that feeling of being a child and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that there is a greater power out there guiding me. Hmmm Big Magic?

That’s it, I thought. I want to believe in something magical right now.

 

Inspiration is mysterious and beautiful

Liz Gilbert’s storytelling voice is a soothing one. Big Magic reads like loving guidance in a time when I very much needed it. This book awakened something childlike and beautiful within me: belief. And what a fresh breath of air it is to experience that kind of trust.

This book is meant to inspire us all to cultivate the curious, light-hearted artist inside of us. During my first read, it grounded me in my own reasons for writing and solidified (in a good way) that the end result can’t be the reason. Success is simply not guaranteed, but it shouldn’t matter. I forget that from time to time, but she reminded me to come back to that calling within me. And it’s true, I don’t know what I feel unless I write. This is a part of me. So, if you need inspiration to paint, dance, write, draw, craft, or do anything creative, read it.

But also, if you find yourself like me right now, searching for a reason to have faith, read it. I don’t subscribe to a religion. I was raised Catholic and that wasn’t a good fit for me. I spent some years in transition believing that there was indeed a higher power, and yes, some people call him God. I called it “the universe.” With time that trust began to fade. I questioned everything and drew a sad albeit logical conclusion, I can’t prove the existence of a higher power. It may be true. It may not. I will tell you, this is the saddest place to be in. I didn’t even want to admit to myself that I was there.

This year, and especially while experiencing grief, I found myself craving that innocent trust and wishing I could go back. But how could I believe in something greater knowing all that I do? I’d be lying to myself. And I was for a long time. You may be thinking, what the hell does this have to do with creating? Well, everything, I’ve learned.

 

Big Magic explained

Sometimes when I write, I have no idea where it’s coming from. I don’t know what it is and it doesn’t always happen, but it feels otherworldly. Also, it isn’t always the same, there are nuances to these strange occurrences.

There are ideas for stories that came to me out of nowhere and are unlike anything I’d normally dream up. In fact, some ideas hit me so quick, I can barely capture it on a page because the words are coming out so fast!

Entire essays and chapters of my memoir have come to me with such vivid clarity, I can feel, touch and smell whatever it is i’m writing about. It’s as if I’m accessing some part of my memory that isn’t available to me regularly.

This one is the most freaky–– sometimes when I journal in a stream of consciousness style, simply writing what’s on my mind usually a problem I’m working through, my writing changes. What I mean is, I will be typing my problem and all the reasons it’s a problem, when suddenly I find myself writing the solution clearly. I begin to write to myself with a loving authority from an unknown yet knowledgable source.

It’s weird stuff and it doesn’t always happen. Some days I write and it’s business as usual, nothing out of the ordinary or particularly inspiring. I didn’t have a term for these mysterious phenomena that I know many other creative people experience too. What Gilbert does with this book is identify it: BIG MAGIC.

 

Magic is everywhere

Now, I’m a logical person. Believe me, I really am. But I know in those transcendent moments of creativity I am touching something that’s not of this plane. I choose to acknowledge this as a divine source. This realization changed something inside me of me. It’s as if a little switch got flipped and opened me up. All of a sudden, I began seeing magic and miracles everywhere, not just in my creative process.

Some of that magic came in the form of coincidences too perfect to be chance. A, “what are the fucking odds of that?” type of moment. For instance, I’ve had a long held belief that owls are animals that represent spirit. I know many people who have seen them appear when speaking about a loved one that’s passed on. In particular, white owls for me hold a special significance. Over time, my belief in that faded because, well, I figured owls are just owls. We were attaching meaning to their presence but that was our own, and hey, if it helped, why not?

Well, a week after my grandmother passed, my husband and I were driving at 8 AM on the expressway to pick up our moving truck. The sun was shining brightly and we were talking about my grandmother. As I was thinking of her, I turned and saw a fully grown white owl. The bird was sitting atop a branch of a tree in the medium of an expressway. Most people probably missed it, but I saw it. It was magnificent. If you don’t know, owls are night creatures. It’s rare to see one during the day because that’s when they sleep. Rarer still is seeing one hanging out on a busy expressway. I felt her presence watching over me. I truly did.

Other type of magic was less serendipitous but just as impactful in its emotional resonance. Much like rereading a book, the pages and words are the same, but upon seeing them with new eyes, they enchanted me. I carried that same renewed perspective with me everywhere. One night during a long drive I had been sharing my commitment to believing and experiencing this source with my husband. When we got home it was nighttime in Bryson City and the sky was pitch black. There aren’t many lights in North Carolina, a fact that annoyed me at first because it can make driving at night scary. However, in that moment, my husband grabbed my arm and simple said, “Look up.”

Above me there were hundreds of tiny stars speckled across the vast expanse. I have never seen a starry sky so clear, and I swear to you, I wanted to cry. I was struck with a deep sense of awe. I knew immediately that I am not alone and there is a greater power watching over me. It was such an overwhelmingly impressive realization that it produced a physical and visceral reaction in me. I couldn’t even control it, it came from a place so deep and wholehearted, a place I hadn’t been able to access in years. I realized I’d been focusing so much of my energy on the mind, that I had completely forgotten about the heart. And it’s our heart that’s the key to our faith.

 

All of this to say, Big Magic is real.

I believe in a divine source, something otherworldly, miraculous and yes, magical. And this belief has saved me. We aren’t spared from the painful parts of life, but we are not denied the blissful parts either.  Something magical happens in the midst of both these opposite experiences–– we are gifted wisdom, a wisdom that is ours to cherish and share.

In loving wonder,

c