Magick sneaks back into your life sometime after 50 — not the glittery kind, but the quiet, soul-level kind.
The kind that shows up as a sunrise you actually pause for, or a moment of peace that feels like a gift.
You’ve been through storms — real ones, emotional ones, cardiac ones that shake you awake.
And then, one day, you feel it:
A softness.
A knowing.
A calm strength you didn’t have in your 20s.
You start trusting your intuition again.
You start noticing signs again.
You start believing in possibility again.
Life becomes magical not because everything is perfect — but because you finally see your own power.
You survived.
You healed.
You rose.
And magick follows people who rise.