“Life’s splendor forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.” ― Franz Kafka, Diaries
“Everything is magical if you really think about it- like trees, and flowers…but we take it for granted. I guarantee if an alien landed on our planet they would be so amazed at everything,” she said lying in the dark before bed last night.
There are lots of ways to see the magic, the splendor as Kafka names it—by slowing down, looking up, playing with a small child. Changes in perspective also help—like traveling many miles to a different city, or to the ocean, or the mountains—but also walking down your very own street, but in the dark at night. The trees in the dark will take on their more creaturely silhouettes, your feet on the man-made pavement will suddenly sense the earth below, and the sky, letting you catch glimpses of all those other suns, will regain its curvature. Loss, especially loss, will bring this other-worldliness, though you will not call it magic when it comes. Later, though, much later, you may call those moments, when you recognize them—transcendent moments.