Welcome, soul.

But I care not for what makes sense; I care for what brings you alive.
— Rumi

I love a hard-won truth. The harder the better.

A friend once called me “a textured person,” and I felt very seen.

The Magic of What Happens is all about the aching thrum of being alive and the truths that come with being a seeker, as well as curated recommendations for you.

I am on an endless quest to understand things more deeply, and love the magical thrill of creating art with words.

I write about:

Concepts and questions I am living into and playing with
Thresholds I’m crossing
Ideas I’m obsessed with
Stellar quotes and poetry that say it perfectly
Books I am reading
Revelations that are coming in hot (with fries)
Travel insights from my pilgrimages in Ireland

We all must remember our aliveness.

I’ve been writing on my website Life Curator for ten years. Here is a list of the most popular things I’ve written (cup of tea recommended):

Can you define ‘magic’ for us, AJ?

When I talk about ‘magic’, I mean those “did that just really happen?” moments in all our lives — synchronicities that occur without your doing, chance encounters, signs, advice, manifestations and answers that come out of left field, downloads from nature, hearing the Universe speak, and divination tools that provide clarity and big soul knowings.

If I’ve lost you, don’t worry, it will make sense.

What do you mean by ‘what happens’?

I mean real life — the glory and melancholy of being a human in the world. The maddening and exquisite mess of it all.

In short: I couldn’t make up what happens to me if I tried. That’s why it is magic. Also disastrous, awkward, unbelievable, and often very funny.

As Nora Ephron (whom I adore) wrote:

I can’t believe how real life never lets you down. I can’t understand why anyone would write fiction when what actually happens is so amazing.

She is very correct.

So, what is the magic of what happens?

Delighted that you asked.

There is an old Irish story from the 12th century that goes:

The famed Celtic hero Fionn Mac Cumhaill challenged a group of men to name the finest music in the world. The first suggested, ‘The throaty song of the lark over Dingle Bay’. The next said, ‘The happy laugh of a gleeful girl’. A warrior replied, ‘The bellowing of a stag.’ Another offered, ‘The whisper of a loved one in the darkness of night.’
“These are all good sounds”, replied Fionn Mac Cumhaill.
Curiosity was high, and one of the men finally asked, ‘What would your answer be?’
Fionn considered the question for a moment.
“The music of what happens,” he said at last.
“That is the finest music in the world.”

The bloomin’ Irish and their fantastic spin on things. This is the guts of it.

Currently obsessed with — astrocartography, witches, dream practices, period dramas with open fireplaces, pressing leaves in books and finding them a year later.

Always obsessed with — Ireland, John O’Donohue, David Whyte, baskets, Human Design (I’m a 1/3 Mental Projector), music (Bon Iver and anything Irish), the origin of words (‘wyrd’ used to mean mysterious or supernatural), Zach Bush, potato in all forms.

I’m currently writing my first book about how we’re all just waiting to get brave and looking for an agent. It’s a memoir about pilgrimaging, a homecoming, longings, lost loves, and my perennial dream of escaping into the colour green.

Supporting the magic

I keep the paywall off to keep access free so anyone can read.

If you have the means and find value in my words, you can become a magic supporter or buy me a chai with honey.

Emma Gannon puts it so well:

“The energy exchange is pure here. No adverts. You pay someone directly for their words and expertise. (This is how humans survived for thousands of years btw before The Industrial Revolution and big corporations — we simply paid each other for our art/poems/things.)”

Love,
Andjelka

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