Outside Lies Magic

The story of a day full of anxiety, sprinkled with instants of peace, and capped by a moment of magic.

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My moment of magic happened after the sun had set, as I was leaning back in our canoe and I felt the world swirling above and below me. But before I expound on the existentialism that washed over me at that moment I want to set the stage and explain, from my point of view, how I came to that experience magic, surrounded by my classmates, in the middle of Benbrook Lake.

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That day began like most other Thursdays; I was pulled out of my fitful sleep by my far too loud alarm, I proceed to snooze it once, and then on its second sounding I sat up with my heart pounding as I realized that I had two exams that day and that I still wanted to review more for them. After getting dressed and eating a hasty breakfast I began my day of ordeals.

Sitting and staring at a computer for two hours of intense focus is enough to make anyone want to feel the sun on their skin and breathe some fresh air. So you can only imagine how I felt after four hours of test-taking followed by another lecture; I was about ready to take off my pants and run into the wilderness in search of Abbey. Luckily for everyone in my last class, I restrained myself and made the march back to my house to dawn my paddling garb.

It was the lure of the evening paddle that pulled me through my harrowing day. I didn’t know that I would experience my magical outdoor moment that evening, but I did however know that I would have a break from the frantic stress that had been interrupting my thoughts for the past week.

The fun began immediately once we got to the Rec. Our two helpers brought the energy and we rose to match it. Hopping in the caravan no one else wanted to play music, so the responsibility fell to me, and I was pretty exceptional at setting the energy for the evening if I do say so myself. Nothing will quite match my first time hearing The Ballad of Edward Abbey followed by Can You Canoe.

Even before we reached Benbrook Lake, we got to have some unique sightings: Olivia yelled out “llama!” and in a split second it took me to turn my head, the llama was gone. To be honest, I’m still not sure if she didn’t make it up… but I digress.

As we passed over the cattle bars all of our hearts leaped to our throats as the canoes rattled and shook at the bouncing. Luckily, all were safely secured and we made it down to the parking area by the water's edge without losing anything.

The first step was to unload our vessels and carry them down to the water's edge. Carrying a canoe is deceptively hard because it's such an awkward and cumbersome load to maneuver, but with the help of a friend, it becomes a much more straightforward task.

As we were picking partners Austin and I decided that we needed to be in the same boat because “celiacs stick together” (and neither of his usual partners had been able to make the journey to the lake…but I prefer the other explanation).

In our pairing, I indulged Austin by allowing him to sit in the front and be the power while I was in the back and in charge of steering.

It turned out that not only was Austin a great partner because of his gluten-freeness but also because we had a perfect balance of conversation and quiet. Embarking on our voyage we started to get familiar with the feeling of the canoe, we chatted about paddling technique and talked strategy of power vs finesse. Once in the middle of the lake, we chose to take a pause to listen and watch what was happening around us.

The first thing that I noted was a buzzing sound. I was unsure of what it was and I will admit that my mind flashed to movies when you hear a plane coming down to drop a bomb, but the hum wasn’t getting loud enough to incite actual anxiety of that.

I finally posed the question to Austin, “Do you hear that noise?”

Immediately he responded, “Yes! I’m so glad that you hear it too… What do you think it is?

We looked around, we saw Olivia and Maddie laughing and going in circles, and we saw Jack and Will speeding along with apparent purpose, but we didn’t see anything to account for the noise. Finally, we saw someone pointing at the horizon, and there we found the source, a man sitting in a chair in the sky.

This spectacle was incredible and we all paused out paddling to watch. This wasn’t my magic moment but I will say initially it seemed he was flying by magic. All of us were watching him get closer and closer, and I could feel the excitement of my peers. It was mesmerizing seeing him steering and gliding, boosting and coasting.

I was so enthralled that I lost track of the gorgeous sunset behind him. Lucky for me, my partner called my attention to it, and while the propeller-powered paraglider flew overhead, we struck out on an adventure toward the reeds.

We both pointed and said in near unison, “Turtle!” Quickly Austin engaged the power, and I used my oar as a rutter to direct us toward our first big wildlife sighting.

We got closer and closer and as we did I became less and less sure that we were approaching a turtle. By the time we were a boat's length away, it became obvious we had made a mistake. Already laughing, we could now clearly see that our “turtle” was in fact the end of a branch bobbing up and down in the water.

While it seems counterintuitive that sitting in a canoe looking at the back of your partner’s head would yield trust and companionship sufficient to spur on intimate conversation, it does. I have come to know that seating arrangement gives way to open and honest dialogue.

I won't go into everything that we discussed but I will touch on a few highlights. We began just by getting to know each other better. We have run in the same circles, but we've never had the chance to truly sit down and get to know each other. We talked about our childhoods and our relationship with our families. Eventually, this led to us discussing religion and God. It's incredible how strong Austin is in his faith and I was enthralled listing to his journey of finding Christ with an atheist family. We talked about future plans and came to the conclusion that both of ours are riddled with uncertainty.

In so many of the readings we have engaged with this semester the authors have found miraculous and magical moments in times of solitude when they are disconnected from the human world around them and focused on the wilderness. I too have seen this pattern in my life; as an inobvious introvert, moments of solace and silence often spark subtle magic in my life and it has become increasingly rare for me to discover enchantment while in the company of others. This trend is what made this specific moment in the semester stand out so distinctly. I was surrounded by my peers and in a boat with my partner, but still, the miraculousness of the moment was not lost on me.

Once the sun had set we halted our conversation and enjoyed the starry sky above us. I leaned back and let the lapping of the water lull me into a trance.

Staring at the stars I always feel small, but rather than being discouraged by this, I feel a sense of wonder that I get to exist and experience life at all. I relish the fact that I get to be even a small part of the vast expanse of this universe.

I still had Austin in my conversation on my mind I'm so I began to think about the idea of creation and how this world, other worlds, and the Universe possibly came to be. I have a hodgepodge of beliefs that have been shown to me throughout my life and not one has fully resonated with me.

The best thing that I can say is that our world is so insanely detailed and serendipitous, and our universe is so vast, there is no way one can be sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there isn't something bigger out there. Whether it be God or Allah or something else entirely, there's nothing in my heart that vehemently denies any of their existence, though I have not found a figurehead to put my faith into.

At this point in my life, I am content with the unknown, I am at peace with being unsure. Maybe nature is the magic that binds us all together, maybe it is simple science.

Soon enough we were needing to put away the canoes and load up the van. The ride home was a bit more subdued, each of us tired and feeling a little more existential than on our way there.

The evening was full of magic, nature, and memories. I will admit that my favorite bird was the propeller man, and my most interesting find may have been the oh-so-rare branch turtle, but the time spent outside, under the sun and the stars truly made it an evening of magic.

This course has truly reinforced within me the belief that outside lies magic. Outside lies a different kind of energy; outside lies new places and adventures; outside lies challenges, triumphs, and failures; outside lies people who will spur you along and help you find your way; outside lies privet and bison; outside lies holes to dig, fences to tear down and posts to set. From cities to wilderness, from people to animals, in solitude and with company, magic truly does lie outside.