Magic

It seems to me that magic exists everywhere. It happens everyday and everywhere but we are not usually aware of it. It is as if we are blind to it even though it is right in front of our eyes.

I felt an enormous sense of magic this morning as I walked Felix. After a few rainy, windy autumn days it was refreshing being out walking along the creek. Felix was bouncing, and sniffing and peeing, ears flopping as he ran. He was oblivious of his sore knee and was just ready for the next moment of adventure. He doesn't make magic. He doesn't try to make something happen. He doesn't look for anything mystical. It's all mystical, since he's a dog. So, I thought could I see the world through his eyes. Not knowing how everything works. Not knowing the names of anything. Not knowing how I am supposed to behave. And it's easy. All you have to do is "be" in the moment and for sure not "thinking" about it. Everything seems to become magical and it is like that the whole time and always but we can't see it because we are too busy with something else. The something else that to me seems boring and dry and important and logical and apparently known because someone else told us so. My conditioning - the things I think are true because I have thought them so many times it's created a groove inside my being. I believe my stale, old thoughts.

How would I be if I couldn't believe anything that I thought?