I learned to read tea leaves last month.  I entered a Mystical World and focused all of my energies on inward meditation while absorbing the Knowledge from the Physical world, to better understand the connection to the Abstract.

I spent hours on the Internet, reading  and studying some woman’s blog.

It was very interesting, and not something I’d really planned ahead of time.  Rather, it was an idea that took on a life of its own.  Let me explain.

A group of us theater moms volunteered to decorate the lobby of the high school for their production of “Puffs,” a Harry Potter parody/spin-off.  The idea was to create an “interactive experience.” We’d invite people to come early, take photos in front of Platform 9 ¾ , get sorted by the Sorting Hat, enjoy Hogwarts’ and magic themed snacks, drink some butterbeer (this may or may not be a *secret recipe*).

“Wouldn’t it be cool to have a fortune telling table where people could have their tea leaves read?” I’d said.

My suggestion was met with much enthusiasm and I suddenly realized several things at once:  it was a really cool idea that fit right in with our theme, the kids would love it, we already had plenty of props and decorations we could borrow from the PTA, and if this was going to happen, I just owned this part of it.

The show is all about magic, of course, and so our parent team took the job of creating magic in an ordinary space on an ordinary day very seriously. The planning and execution of it all didn’t really seem like work because we really believed in what we were creating.

What’s more magical than floating picture frames and floating candles, and flying keys and talking hats and fortune telling?

Even if it was all held together with disguised electrical tape, fishing line, and various sized binder clips…

Even if you knew it wasn’t real, that it was all for show, you could allow that there is magic all around us.  It was on the stage as we watched the lights go down and were transported to another world. It was in the smiles of the kids as they greeted each other in wizard robes with wands, the wide eyes as they looked at the floating candles flickering above their heads, or in their excited faces as we found shapes in their tea leaves and I “told their future.”

And for any non-believers out there, I had one person ask me – in all seriousness- if I did this (reading tea leaves) “like for real, like professionally?” And at least two others asked if I was certified.  So if you’re questioning my ability to do this, to really sell it, these random strangers are my testament.  You can private message me for appointments.  Compensation is negotiable.

There is magic in a group of theater students that become a team, a family, in just two months.  There’s magic in that team that anticipates the action and cues on stage together, to seamlessly improvise when sets fall over or props drop from the sky. There’s magic in a team of teachers and directors who believe in those students and their ability to create magic in an ordinary space on an ordinary day.  We can believe in the unseen, in that magic, because of what the kids show us.

What drives a group of parents to decorate a high school lobby to look like Hogwarts and make a hundred chocolate covered pretzel “wands”? What drives a theater group to put on 5 shows in 9 days?

It’s all about creating- creating a space where you can believe anything is possible, if only for a day; creating those opportunities to see the magic in the ordinary.  It’s about believing in the unseen, not because someone tells you to, but because you feel it in your heart.

Believing in something like this warms you, it feels good, it makes you smile. It makes you want to share it.

Is that magic?

Or is it simply Love?

Believe in the magic.  Believe in Love. Believe in hope.  Believe in the things you can’t see but that make you feel.  It’s what brings us together.  It’s what keeps us together.