Pat Taub
Typically a film makes me cry because of a redeeming ending like when two lovers are reunited or when social justice has been delivered. I cried for a different reason after watching Guillermo Del Toro’s Oscar winning-film, “The Shape of Water.”
I cried because this beautiful, magical film burrowed deep inside me to a place that is seldom visited. It visited my soul, awakening me to the miracle that is possible when one is open to experiencing the unexpected.
From “The Shape of Water,” Eliza making contact with the merman in captivity.
“The Shape of Water” is fundamentally a love story between a mute woman janitor and a merman held in captivity at a secret government laboratory where the woman, Elisa works. The two central characters are fully present to one another in a manner that feels atypical in our fast-paced lives. Elisa expresses her caring through the simple act of leaving hard-boiled eggs by the merman’s water-filled tank. Eventually he became less afraid of her where his gruff animal sounds are replaced by soft, caring ones.
Mulling over the movie while walking home I suddenly felt hungry to have more magic and mystery in my life—the type of magic that is inexplicable but divine.
A magical dream image
I concluded that big magical moments are rare—like when a loved one who has died shows up in my dreams–but I wondered if there wasn’t something I could do to experience magic on a more frequent basis. How can I be more open to the mystery of life?
My first thought was simply to increase my awareness by looking at my surroundings with new eyes.
When I travel to foreign cultures where my agenda is to learn as much as I can about my new surroundings and the inhabitants, I constantly discover little bits of magic. In Japan I bowed in exchange whenever I received a bow. On one of these occasions a maid at our inn handed me a small packet of hard candies, In Myanmar I bought tea from an old woman who prepared it over a hot plate set up on the sidewalk. I drank beside her as we exchanged heartfelt smiles.
A magical travel moment in Myanmar attending a Buddhist initiation ceremony where a young boy is having his head shaved in preparation for his entry into Buddhism.
At home I rush along the sidewalk thinking only of my destination: buying groceries at the neighborhood market or trekking to the post office to mail a package. I have the power to change this. I can slow down and open my eyes and ears employing the same curiosity that marks my trips abroad.
Magic can occur when we are open to the unexpected
Magic contains a surprise element. One never knows when it will appear, but being open to the unexpected and living without cynicism, affords magic the opportunity to surface.
Evoking a sense of childlike wonder encourages magic in our lives. The writer, Roald Dahl captures this state:
And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.
For me a belief in magic allows me to believe in the goodness of humans, to believe that activists will overcome the hate-filled policies spewing from the White House. It feels magical the way women banded together in a matter of days to create the widespread #metoo movement. The same phenomenon characterizes the mushrooming of the student-led gun control movement, #never again.
An example of a magical mobilization: a student “die-in” at the White House in support of gun control
The poet Mary Oliver offers words to live by in the pursuit of magic:
Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.
