What are magic eyes? Magic eyes are the kind of eyes that can see wonder and mystery wherever they look. There’s a special filter over them. This filter keeps out all the woes, fears, anger, and aggravation of the outside world. It’s not that these things don’t still exist, of course, but with magic eyes, you can’t focus on them at all, even if you wanted to. Magic eyes seek out delightful things, and the more delightful things they find, the more inclined they are to look.
Anyone can have magic eyes--anyone. (In fact everyone has them already.) It doesn’t matter how difficult your life has
been or how long things have gone wrong.
We’ve all been there. We’ve all
had darkness, but we all have the ability to open the magic eyes at any
time. Some people spontaneously open
them, seemingly out of nowhere. One day
they are looking at something quite ordinary, and suddenly the magic eyes
open. What a surprise! Suddenly the mundane is sublime.
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| Can you see the magic in this photo? |
Can you see the magic in the photo above? Not the number on the tree. Not the reflectors. It’s the rocks. Look at them.
Look how they’re placed. Look at
the secret little caves they form. What
dwells within? Look at the brown pine
needles draped over them like frosting on a cake. Look at all the fluffy moss. There’s magic there! Sit down and touch one and see how you
feel. And look for fairies--always look
for fairies.
What happens if your magic eyes have closed due to many
difficulties or sorrows in your life?
Or--even worse--what happens if they have never even been opened
once? How do you open or reopen magic
eyes? There’s no button to press, no
ritual to follow, no supplements to take.
There’s nothing that will open magic eyes for you. You must do it yourself.
The best way to begin is to go out into nature. Go by yourself. Wear old clothes and old shoes and maybe an
old hat if it’s too sunny outside. Don’t
tell anyone where you’re going.
Oooh! Scary! We’re always warned that we should tell
people where we’re going . . . just in case.
In case of what? In case we discover that it’s more fun to be
outside than glued to a computer? In
case we find out that the “news” is really just advertisements now? In case we actually do find our magic eyes?
You don’t have to go to a remote mountaintop or to the
middle of a desert if you’re worried about being alone . . . out there. A walk through the woods isn’t going to hurt
anyone. And here’s something else: Don’t bring your cellphone. Leave it in the car. But
what if I get attacked by bears? What if
I fall and break my neck? What if . . .
and what if . . .? Don’t bring your
cellphone. We all used to travel that
way at one time before there were any
cellphones, and somehow we all managed to survive. Somehow we lived without being constantly tracked
or making ourselves forever available to everyone and anyone. Don’t bring your cellphone. Don’t bring any music either. None.
Zero. No electronic devices. Yes, I realize that you may have excellent
music or are listening to a really great podcast, but leave it at home. And that goes for books, too. Yes, the written word--leave it at home.
Bring only you and your old shoes and your old clothes and
your old hat. And then walk. Just walk.
Listen. Sniff the air. Keep walking and listening and sniffing. Then start looking around and tell your magic
eyes--out loud--that you want them to open, that you want them to show you some
magic today, that you want the mundane to become holy, that you want the lowly
to become divine.
And don’t be surprised when it happens, because it will happen, and nothing will be the
same after that.
