What would living a
magical life feel like?

Before we begin

I’m creating a powerful ritual. But before that, I’m here asking life:

Show me—what would living
a magical life be like?

Could the invisible, the spirit world, give me a glimpse? Something I could share with anyone ready to start exploring and passionately embrace the beauty of their life?

Right now, I’m seated in Wetherill Park after registering my car in my name. How awesome.

I’m naturally grateful that I can open my Mac, buy myself a good lunch and sit here creating something. But at the same time, I wish to have my own space. No shared space. Somewhere I can sit, connect and let whatever needs expression come out.

I want to go out without thinking, “I have a night shift.” Instead, perhaps I’m thinking about a story that needs to come out. Something beautiful. Something that could inspire someone and give them the freshness of life.

I want to love what I do and do it passionately. Even the things that stress me—I want that stress to come from something that needs to grow, something asking for evolution.

And yes, I want to enjoy my life without always worrying about how much I spend.

Ask. Seek. Knock.

“Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”

Jesus’ words · Matthew 7:7 · KJV ↗

And here, I want us to leave doubt aside for a moment. To explore what it feels like to have an unshakable faith. The kind where peace takes over.

Faith, from my understanding, is something I have been exploring for a while: an assurance about what we hope for, even when it isn’t visible yet.

Keep the expectation.

I’m a student of the Bible, and Hebrews 11:1 describes faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

There is a story I keep thinking about.

In Matthew 8:5–13, a centurion—a Roman army officer—comes to Jesus because his servant is suffering. Jesus offers to come and heal him. But the centurion says he isn’t worthy to have Jesus under his roof. He believes Jesus only needs to speak, and his servant will be healed.

He understands authority. He gives an order, and someone acts on it. He believes Jesus’ word carries that authority too.

Jesus marvels at his faith. And the story tells us that his servant is healed.

That is the kind of faith I want us to explore—including me, Rodah Mariah. A faith that surprises even me and influences my actions.

Well, dear universe, I want a partnership deal. And a Disney collaboration.

Crazy? But well, I’m writing it down.

I ask for guidance. I want to stay connected to what I’m creating and give it the attention it needs.

Protect the space.

And next: protect the space where you do your rituals.

Take a look around. Be observant.

I used to notice people holding what looked like bangles or beads, moving them through their fingers as though they were counting. Then I discovered that some were praying.

It made me think about how private this can be. Someone can be standing beside you, quietly connecting, and you may have no idea.

What if we allowed ourselves that privacy too?

The invisible part of life feels private to me. You can have your wishes. Your questions. Your quiet conversations. You don’t have to explain every part of them.

Find a space where you can connect. A quiet corner. Your pen and a page. Somewhere in nature where you can sit long enough to notice the air moving, the trees, what is happening around you—and what is happening within you.