Blue Heron Visions: Chapter 2: Pieces of Magic

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction. The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

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Chapter 2: Pieces of Magic

Elizabeth rose and began her day. As she made the bed, her thoughts lingered on the idea of magic and magical moments in a life. She reflected back on years gone by, looking for those times and events that were amazing, almost unexplainable except by the word magic and, perhaps, synchronicity. Those times when, if one action had been different, if one step had been taken in a different direction by those involved, the outcome would have been completely and utterly different. Those were the moments she was seeking. On cue, her mind recreated those moments in her thoughts.

She thought about a moment just a few weeks prior when she and Vincent had to go to an office store to pick up a toner cartridge for the printer. Vincent had ordered the cartridge online and it had to be picked up at a particular store, one that they didn't usually go to but was closest to their apartment. Since the day was cold, biking to the store was out of the question for her (Vincent never had a problem biking in the cold). So they hopped on a bus and made the trek to the store. Upon arriving they had to wait to get some help. Finally, a woman in her thirties arrived and started talking with Vincent in French about his order. As the clerk was talking, she had a feeling that she knew the woman. Elizabeth noticed the woman's eyes, her mannerisms, and her voice. She kept thinking, "Who does she remind me of?"

The woman went to the "Employees Only" area of the store to check for the order. She returned and there was some more discussion. Eventually, Vincent had to go online to show her the email he had received from the store that said the order was in, and the clerk again went on the hunt for the cartridge. Finally, Elizabeth remembered who the woman looked like—a friend of hers that she had met at the café nearest her apartment. The friend worked at the café and that's how she got to know her. She mentioned the resemblance to Vincent and he agreed that there was something similar about the two women. He thought it could be the way both women talked.

When the store clerk returned with cartridge in hand, Elizabeth took a chance and questioned the woman.

"Do you have a sister?"

"--Yes."

"Is your sister's name Amelia?"

And again the woman answered in the affirmative. The store clerk, whose name was Laura, went on to say that she was the café clerk's twin sister. Elizabeth knew her friend had a sister but did not know that she was a twin. As the couple left the store and walked to the bus, they discussed the series of events that had to occur for them to have made this connection with Amelia's twin sister. One small change in the events of their day or in Laura's day would have resulted in a completely different experience.

Contemplating this recent experience along with others she could remember, Elizabeth formulated a new idea about magic's role in her life. She saw her life as a giant jigsaw puzzle that stretched from birth to death. Each moment of her existence, she added another piece to the puzzle. Some of these pieces were attached to the main body of the puzzle and others were being pieced together but without knowing the exact location of where they would fit in the final puzzle. She was simply putting together pieces that resembled each other, that corresponded in kind with each other. She wasn't even sure if the frame of the puzzle had even been completed yet. But as she looked over her life's puzzle, she noticed that there were times and events she would define as magical but they were only solitary pieces that fit here and there in the puzzle, haphazard and random occurrences. She had pieces of magic in her puzzle but she didn't have a flow of magic in her life. Instead of the puzzle being created out of magic, she had a drop of magic here and another drop there. And that's not what she signed up for, if in reality she signed up for anything in her life at all. The life she wanted, longed for, emerged from magical moments. Its core was magic and it couldn't be any other way. So, why didn't she see evidence of a life like that? What was missing in her or in her puzzle that kept her from a life filled with magical moments? And an even more important question: Was it even possible to have a life that flowed in the stream of magical moments or was this idea some sort of dream or the gossamer strands that created fairy tales?

Considering these questions, Elizabeth prepared her breakfast. What was magical about making oatmeal? Perhaps pieces of magic were all you get in life and you should damn well be grateful if and when you got those!