During a recent fog-rise jaunt to the beach, I encountered a solitary seal frolicking near the shore. The tide was low so a portion of the sea was temporarily separated by a sandbar. Swimming from the shallows to the sandbar and then sliding as far as his belly would send him, he appeared quite delighted with his antics. He repeated this acrobatic aquatic endeavor time and time again seeming not to tire of his quest.

As I approached, he spotted me, stilled, and stared me down. Although it’s not unusual for me to catch sight of a seal during these early morning excursions, it is unusual for them to acknowledge, feign interest, or slightly allude to my existence. But not this guy. This peppy little pinniped was quite curious about me, didn’t hesitate to look me straight in the eye, and seemed keen on an audience.

So I took a seat in the sand, gave him a wave, and off he waded to execute his performance.

During a break in the action, he slowed and held my gaze for what seemed a full minute until I admittedly broke eye contact while briefly glancing away to locate my phone so I could take a picture of this surreal experience. (Is this really happening? I must document this! I must show my family and friends this amazing interaction. No one will believe it. Do I even believe it? Capture, capture, capture!)

When I looked back up, he had disappeared. Of course he had.

I thought to myself, well, that was fun while it lasted. I placed my phone back into my pocket and remained sitting in the sand watching the waves.

Within moments the little rascal reappeared. This time he made eye contact much longer than the previous almost daring me to not look away again.

While maintaining our stare out, I slowly and sneakily once again reached for my phone to preserve our interaction. As soon as the device was extracted, he, once again, disappeared.

As a human, I admit, I’m often a bit slow, but I was gradually catching on.

He had no intention of our connection being confined to a photo. This exchange was happening in real time between just the two of us. I had been given a choice: Be still and present and fully experience our encounter or be left alone attempting to catch something not wishing to be caught. An invitation had been extended through natural conditions to behold something outside the realm of the ordinary. The choice to accept and adhere to the predetermined conditions was mine.

While suspending my propensity for predictability, which, for the most part, is pretty uneventful anyway, I acquiesced and accepted the invitation, abandoned my human habit, and chose to lean in and join this free creature on whatever magical journey he was inviting me on.

When I venture to the shore at sunrise, I’m purposefully seeking space for solitary connection. And although my intention is detachment from the incessant stream of thoughts, decisions, comparisons, and responsibilities, my humanness still struggles with the urge to secure, showcase, and share what I believe to be mine.

When our lives consist of perpetual diversions, we miss opportunities to experience wonder and awe. When we’re distracted by our devices, too much stuff, some not-so-great habits, opinions, and expectations, we constrict the opening that the magic requires to reveal itself. When we exchange our time trying to capture a world that just wants to be in relation with us, we risk missing out on the extraordinary.

If we’re seeking magic in our lives, we must first create the space for it to arrive. Once the space has been created, then the issue isn’t whether if or when the magic will reveal itself, because, dear one, I promise it will, the issue is are we willing to escape abstract attainments and sit with the emptiness long enough to recognize it when we see it.

When we find ourselves certain that all the abundant, radiant, wonderful things are happening to everyone else and never to us, because their highlight reel says so, perhaps we aren’t paying attention to where the magic is authentically lurking in our own lives. When we find ourselves doubting our ability to manifest our intentions, we are most likely being held captive by our distractions while missing an opportunity to stare magic straight in the eye.

If we’re constantly trying to capture and collect the sights, sounds, and substances that may just live in a solitary moment, we can become trapped in the collective chaos instead of traveling to place of transcendence.

If you’ve been searching for magic and just haven’t been able to find it, I invite you to consider that it just may be trying to find its way to you. It may be temporarily stuck under a pile of self doubt, or attempting to escape a stack of what ifs, or just waiting for us to put down our disruptive devices and be present with us while it beckons, but magic is always near patiently anticipating that we tune into its frequency and be transformed.

If you’re in search of something divine, I invite you to identify your distractions and be willing to suspend them. And yes, it may require some disciplined editing, but, the choice is yours.

The magic will be waiting.

Seal and I traveled together for over two miles on this foggy coastal morning. The few treasures I had amassed along the way were offered back to the sea upon my departure. I believe Seal saw this as a personal endowment, for, as I relinquished the collection, he reappeared, along with three of his playful pals, to see me off.