Everyday acts are magical. When someone says “creation” many people think of awesome events like birth or the big bang. However, not all acts of creation are as awesome and inspiring as say giving birth or creating the universe. Sometimes acts of creation are very simple. Instead of working on the book reviews, I’ve done a lot of knitting lately. Knitting is mediation in and magic. Even Dumbledore enjoys a good knitting pattern. One of the reasons I love the Harry Potter series even as an adult now is the prominence knitting takes in the novels. Knitting is a lot like magic: you create something beautiful and with purpose from your own energies. In the last week I have finished two lace projects and started another tonight. The first shawl was small and lightweight, perfect for the coming summer. This next shawlette is heavier but more spring-like: full of daisies and flower patterns. The purpose of these things is twofold: to quiet my mind during a stressful period in my life and to have something to keep my shoulders warm. I enjoy the creative process of making something with my own hands to have forever. Any kind of repetitive task, no matter how mundane or everyday can become a sacred act.
Handmade items have another kind of magic as well. As a child, I cherished my “blankies” made by my great grandma. I was absolutely enthralled with the slightly creepy crocheted dolls and clowns both of my great grandmas made for me. As an adult, I cherish even more the hand pieced quilts I have each of them lovingly made for me as a wedding present when I was just born. My great grandma’s crocheted afghans are still so comforting. When I find myself spending the night at my grandma’s I always take a moment to close my eyes and hug an afghan to me and deeply inhale: I can hear Memaw laughing. I always remember her laughter: she was always playing jokes, feeding the babies sweet things, and causing mischief. My brother’s first sentence was “F A R T: fart” thanks to Memaw. I sometimes think I might take after her a bit. My other great-grandmother was a much more prim and proper lady and a prolific quilter. She was also always baking. I remember her kitchen – it was always warm and she had a crystal hanging in the window casting rainbows all around. Even my great grandpa had his crafts: he made needlepoint ornaments – always cardinals. My own grandmother has dabbled in many crafts. I hope one day to be able to keep something in my home made with her hands (that’s not cake). These things, made with their own hands, are sacred things. These ideas they turned into works of art have the ability to make a house or apartment feel more like a home. They can carry love with them. When we make something by hand, we infuse something of ourselves into it. This is the most powerful kind of magic. I wonder if one day the things I make will be cherished or loved to pieces by someone I love. I can only hope.