“Yes, I create magic,” I told the teenagers in the Comparative Religions class I talked to on Monday. I really didn’t want that question to come up, but the teacher asked me. I tried, but plainly faltered. No one who never experienced some type of magic will ever be convinced by me that it exists.

I hate talking about magic, especially with people who have no experience with it. I have never been that good at wrapping words around what, for me, has always been a visual, kinetic, and visceral experience. Magic is a part of the Mystery, over which words slip and slide, but can find no firm purchase — one of the reasons I have never “taught magic.”

Many people completely misunderstand the concept of magic. For years, I thought of magic as something separate from my daily life, separate from my spiritual practice — something you did in a set way, something you only did in circle. I was (and am) uncomfortable calling myself a witch. It seemed to have the wrong focus for me and to set the wrong expectations in others — at least expectations that I did not want to deal with. The word “pagan” has its own set of connotations, but those I could talk about without problem. I have even said, “Oh, I don’t do magic, but I know others who do.”

But in reality, I do magic all the time. I see magic. I feel magic. I pull magic from the world around me and set it in motion. When I see the trees shimmering in spring, that is magic. When the birds sing to my heart, that is magic. Or at least, when I give meaning to those experiences and use them to guide my life, that is magic. I have been relearning what magic means in my life and how to experience the natural flows of that energy through my connections with others and the world around me.

At Beltane this year, a small group of us gathered to embody the elemental forces of creation and weave the magic of creation and manifestation through dance and song. As the Center, my role was to hold the container for the magic to happen. I initially moved around the perimeter of the dance as being in the physical center might end up with me wrapped in May ribbons. But once the dance started, I quickly noticed that the pole was pulled this way and that, and was in danger of being toppled. So, I moved to the center and held the pole up while the forces of nature danced and pulled and whirled around me. In my hands, I could feel the push and pull of these forces bend and shake the pole. As the center, it was my job to hold the intent, to wield the strength to keep one element from taking over or moving us from center. And I laughed. The Center is the Witch, who directs the elemental forces of this world toward a purpose. This is why your Will must be strong — all the different forces are doing their own thing and could easily pull the entire working away from your intent.

I told the kids on Monday that magic was an active form of prayer in which you are co-creating reality with the Gods. That sounds so easy, but at Beltane, I got a taste of what that really means. I wrestled with magic. And perhaps, I am ready to begin teaching people some of my moves.

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