Still I Call It Magic

I have considered Coldplay my favorite band ever since their songs accompanied me through the awestruck months following the England Abroad. This spring I have heard their new hit Magic a few times. It didn’t speak to me. In fact, recently, I haven’t strongly identified with any of their music. The state of mind the music conjures up in my memory has seemed far away.

Tonight I attended a going away party for Kiff, the best manager I’ve ever had. His two years at this branch have been the Golden Age. Everyone works together so well, and we often express gratitude for our unity. As we celebrated and goodbyed Kiff over Italian subs and calzones tonight, there was so much love at that table. It didn’t matter that the service sucked or that we were sweating because the place was so hot. It mattered that we all loved each other and knew we loved each other.

It was the last time the whole group would be together. Georgia is also leaving the branch, and she is integral. And yet I know that love is not confined to or dependent on person, place, or thing. We will all go on. It is right that we are going on.

As I got in my car to leave, I turned off my audio book about the Holocaust and switched to the radio. Coldplay’s Magic was playing. It was perfect for the moment. As I was swelling with gratitude (and heat), the music was right. And the message that I heard I agreed with: yes, I still believe in magic. At a stoplight, I bowed my head and held up prayer hands. I could feel the magic that I had found in college HERE at this BANK that hadn’t exactly seemed magic when I first started working at it. But HERE I found people I love SO MUCH. And they are everywhere! Good people are everywhere! Love is everywhere! This feeling of connection I have…well, the fact that I could get it HERE in this context means something.

As a matter of fact, when I attended a career conference during my senior year in college, I was in a small group for ten minutes, and we had to talk about our career aspirations. My friend's boyfriend happened to be in my group, and he later reported to her that I used the word "magic" 18 times, which I hadn't realized. I never really thought it would slip in here. 

Georgia and me in our branch. September '13.  

“Call it magic

Call it true

I call it magic

When I’m with you

And just got broken

Broken into two

Still I call it magic

When I’m next to you”

I'll Be Everywhere You Go

There have been a couple of adventures so far this year—a visit from Dough and a company trip to Miami.

This past week, Blondie and I stayed home, though, as my rents and aunt Ziva went off to an island that is special to my family. It was a spontaneous trip to a beach house that suddenly became available. I couldn’t get the time off from work. But I have felt right all week about where I am and have felt, just enough, like I’m there where they are because of things they’ve done. I just got this in the mail tonight from my dad:

In his beautiful scrawl, he tells about his Tuesday night and copies quotes from a book on courage. His ink—orange brown mixing with dark brown—has the warmth of a beach sunset. I feel like each calligraphy letter is a cut-out where the beach, wet sand, and dark brown bottles of sunscreen are peeking through, shining into my room.  

"And true it may seem like a stretch
But it's thoughts like this that catch
My troubled head when you're away"