A little touch of magic out of the blue: every now and again, a seemingly random little touch of magic suddenly appears out of the blue. It’s so unusual that we often dismiss it, in the belief that it will retreat back into the unconscious from whence it came, and leave us to get on with the same old life that we are familiar with! But what if it’s not from the unconscious, but from the heart!
In out of the way places of the heart
where your thoughts never think to wander
this beginning has been quietly forming
waiting until you were ready to emerge.
How many times have I been drawn to have a good look at the painting of ‘The Francois Zola Dam’ by Cezanne as I left it for a later day’s visit: to be honest, I’ve never known what to make of it – it’s so random amongst his impressionist paintings. It’s in the room before the magnificent Impressionist landscapes of L’Estaque coast and Provençale countryside, here, in the Cezanne Exhibition of the Tate Modern in London.
Cezanne painted it the year after the Third Impressionist Exhibition of 1877, in which he submitted a mighty twelve paintings. Cezanne had skipped the Second Impressionist Exhibition, so downhearted was he after the awful reviews and spiteful comments of the First Exhibition. It had been Monet who had persuaded Cezanne to return; Cezanne shared the large central exhibition room with Berthe Morisot, who faithfully exhibited in all but one of the Eight Impressionist Exhibitions. All three artists were slated by press and visitors: ‘dangerous revolutionaries!’ shouted one well-known wealthy banker, as he asked for his money back. No matter – Cezanne was recognized by his fellow artists, who dearly wanted him to remain one of the Impressionist Group. And he was happy with that.
But then after he had said his farewell to Emile Zola, his closest friend, and left Paris, he returned to paint in the familiar countryside around Aix-en-Provence. I like to think that he had gone for his usual early morning swim in the lake created by the dam that Emile Zola’s father had designed, with views across to the east of the mountain range that includes Mont Sainte-Victoire. Then he had set up easel and palette, and let brush and oil flow. And there, a little touch of magic came out of the blue.
The thing about little touches of magic is that they can be glimpses of a calling; the glimpse of a future way that is beckoning. It would take Cezanne a few years, and not a little turmoil, but he would leave his Impressionist oeuvre behind, and follow that one little touch of magic.
Nowadays, we know we can practice the art of magic. In the words of Otto Scharmer: we can ‘indeed have greatly enhanced direct access to the deeper sources of creativity and commitment, both as individuals and as communities…. It is one of our most hopeful sources of confidence that we can access a deeper presence, power, and purpose from within’.
‘Presencing’ (pre-sencing) is the developmental practice of making present where your future passion and inspiration beckons; it feels like a little touch of magic - and oh, what fullness awaits.
Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
and out you step onto new ground,
your eyes young again with energy and dream
a path of plenitude opening before you.
verses from John O’Donohue