I woke up this morning with the realization that Today is Magic. Everyday is Magic, actually.
When I light up my wood stove in the morning and there are still embers from last night so I don’t need to use a match, this is Magic. The burning of the logs, the gifting of the trees to heat my house, many houses, the brilliance of Earth Mother in creating the Standing People, the trees, so that there is so much habitat, wood for our homes to be built and my beautiful woodstove to burn the logs. Such Magic.
And Magic sits within my body, my belly, the Sacred center of my being. The Magic of being a woman who can bear children (could… beyond that stage now). The Magic of my wacked creative center where the ideas for silly cow limericks gestate. ;~) And visions of a beautiful world ahead, beyond the chaos of now, ruminate, along with a Spiritual Warrior women and lusty lass. All of this dance together in the Magic of my Sacred Feminine center.
And when I light the fire up in the morning, get the embers going with the long breath of my solid lungs, this Magic of the Standing Ones and the Great Mystery’s fire warms my belly and lets me know that Magic is rekindled, again. Today.
As it is everyday.