i don’t really do magic. not the abracadabra, “you’re healed from your sickness!” kind. paranormal stuff that your cousins love or your great-grandparents swear is true? c’mon, they’re fun made-up stories at best. more likely, they’re conspiracy theories spread by powerful people to control us, oopsies by someone careless, or straight-up scams to mess with gullible folks.
if anything, the closest thing to magic i acknowledge is when magicians make you go, “how did they do that?” (spoiler: hundreds of hours of practice, psychology, and physics—not fairy dust). but actual magic? hard pass. my world runs on skepticism, fueled by modern science—because science makes sense. got a mystery? study it. no need to call it cursed, blame it on your neighbor’s black cat, or chalk it up to a random tarot card. and yet, there’s always someone out there saying, “but the full moon definitely controls my wifi connection!” like, sure, jan.
for a long time, that logic-driven mindset felt pretty perfect. everything in my life needed a rational explanation—less aww, more hmm. empathy wasn’t high on my list. i mean, why bother? life’s rough, and i had just enough energy to keep myself afloat.
but then, plot twist! my partner handed me a children’s book. not just any book—the little prince by antoine de saint-exupéry.
the story? it’s about this little dude who hops from planet to planet, meeting adults who are honestly kind of the worst. they’re all wrapped up in boring, grown-up stuff—work, pride, power, money.
as i read it, i saw a version of me staring back: a software engineer stuck in the loop of deadlines, meetings, tax payments, and stress-buying snacks. rinse and repeat. in that kind of stress-filled life, there are folks out there saying the solar eclipse is why they missed deadlines. like, no, karen, maybe double-check your calendar instead of blaming the stars. while i’m over here fixing real-world bugs, you’re burning sage because your printer didn’t work.
this book helped me restructure my thoughts. it flipped a switch. it brought back a sprinkle of magic i didn’t even know i’d lost. not the “crystals healed my anxiety” kind of magic—more like the magic of seeing the world through fresh eyes. it didn’t turn me into a magical unicorn believer or anything, but it did make me rethink things. maybe life isn’t about “fixing” every problem or labeling everything “rational” or “nonsense.” maybe it’s about being human. the little prince, his journey, and his conversations reminded me that empathy and imagination aren’t childish—they’re essential.
so, yeah, i’m not here to give you a book report. go grab a copy and see for yourself. who knows? maybe you’ll find a piece of magic waiting for you, too. just don’t use it to justify your expired parking meter.