All magic is just labor, hidden well

During the holidays, and all the rest of time, we have the power to make magic happen

Late last year, as part of my project to write a sonnet a week, I wrote a sonnet about the seeming magic of Christmas. One morning I sat, looking at my beautifully decorated tree and wrapped packages amid the bleakness of winter. Eventually I came up with this (with apologies for the way Substack does the line breaks on poetry!):

*

Perhaps behind the fog the sun is up,

but all I see are shadows of the trees.

The scent of coffee’s heady in this cup —

a quiet morning moment that I seize

to sit in silence, gazing at my tree,

all trimmed with baubles, softly glowing lights,

a beacon in the window, greeting me,

acknowledging the lateness of these nights

when I was wrapping presents, tying bows.

All magic is just labor, hidden well.

Now see in bleak midwinter, still a rose

is blooming by the driveway, it can dwell

in cold that greets me — throw open the door.

A flock of birds first squawks, then starts to soar.

*

I personally like the image of the birds, but when I published this sonnet on my blog, I heard from a lot of readers about that central line: “All magic is just labor, hidden well.”

My Christmas tree was beautiful — magical seeming — with the ornaments, and lights, and presents underneath.

But nothing about our Christmas was magic. I decided I wanted a particularly showy tree and I made sure we got one. I spent hours figuring out what my kids wanted and ordering and shopping for gifts, and I spent lots of time wrapping the gifts in bright shiny paper, with extra bows and ribbons. At times this felt like a slog. But with the effort and late nights behind me, as I sat looking at my tree one late December morning, it felt like magic. Magic I had made.

I think it’s empowering to realize that apparent “magic” results from labor — because that means we aren’t dependent on something outside ourselves to make magic happen. We can all be magicians. We may need to invest a lot of effort, but when we do, delight can ensue.

It feels great to make magic for other people — whether with Christmas decorations and gifts, a transporting dinner party, or a Halloween costume that makes a child’s dream a reality.

Now this is not to say that we need to do more invisible labor. I bet a lot of people reading this newsletter are already doing a lot of thankless invisible labor!

But we do have the power to use our creativity, time, and effort to delight those we love, and we can make magic for ourselves, too. If you want a show-stopping vacation, you can dream up how to make it happen and execute on it. If you want a gorgeous Thanksgiving spread like you see in magazines, you can figure out how to gussy up your dining room, create an autumnal table-scape and make all those elaborate dishes. If you’re wishing to be celebrated for a particular accomplishment, well, book the venue, invite the people ,and create the party of your dreams.

As a corollary, when you experience something magical, you can repeat that same phrase: All magic is just labor, hidden well. That magician has practiced to make his tricks look effortless. That sequence of pyrotechnics at a concert was rehearsed until they simply couldn’t fail. That teacher who can get a rambunctious little kid interested in a book is not actually possessed of magical powers. She is just really really good at her job.

Humans can do utterly amazing things when we think it through and work really hard. I find hard labor more impressive than magic, actually. Keeping this phrase in mind empowers us to keep attempting ambitious wonders.