Like Magic

Robert Waldinger, bestselling author and Harvard director of the longest study on happiness, often asks his audiences to try out an experiment. “Take out your phone,” he says. “Send them a text or an email, and say, I was thinking of you, just wanted to say hello.’ It’ll take you 15 seconds, and if you do that, you will be amazed at what comes back. Not every time, but if you did one of those every day, you would get lots and lots of positive response, including requests to have coffee or dinner, and people beginning to reinvigorate connections with you. But it takes activity.” Let that be your sign to shut out of instagram for a moment and reach for that connection. (Don’t worry, you can come back.) Let us know what happens.

“Sixteen years ago, when I was 13, I lost my father to kidney cancer. Most people knew him for puppeting character Kino on PBS’s ‘Storytime’ or as Lester the Rat from ‘Beakman’s World.’ To me, though, he was just an exceptionally loving father who could turn any mundane moment into crying-laughter, and who loved what he loved with his entire heart, whether it was music, writing, acting, magic, puppeting, piloting, friends, and family. After he passed, it occurred to me that my only memories of him would be contained to my childhood. I feared they would fade quickly, so I started what I call my ‘Dadda List.’ Initially, I wrote down my favorite memories of him (driving to private airports just to watch the small planes take off together) and his signature phrases and expressions like (‘BOLLOCKS!’ or ‘A worm living in a horseradish doesn’t know of a better life.’) Over the years the list has grown to include dozens of my memories and even ones from others who had more time with him. I open the list when I remember something and want to add it, when someone else recalls a story or phrase I hadn’t heard, when I miss him, and when I forget what it is I’m missing. It’s difficult to have now lived more of my life without him than I have with him, but I feel comforted and grateful to be able to protect these memories—my most precious possessions.” ⁠ - Ella Ritts, Los Angeles, CA, @ellarittsart

“For birthdays growing up, we would have dinners at home and the dress was black tie, sometimes even white tie and tails. My dad loved pageantry and all seven of us (five children plus mom and dad) would dress as fancy as we could, then run downstairs for the birthday celebrant’s favorite meal, like, for instance beef with Bernaise sauce and a big chocolate cake for dessert. We were often shoeless, even barefoot, because fancy shoes seemed silly when we weren’t going outside. As we got older, my dad and brothers would sometimes wear kilts, and the girls would add jewelry or borrow something from my mom’s closet. The table would be aglow with candles, and set with our finest crystal and silver, and my dad would raise a glass to toast the birthday child. Dad died in 2014 and my family now does our own version of the tradition for New Year’s Eve. We do a big dinner at home, and use the occasion to introduce our children to fancy things like oysters on the half shell and lobster. One of my boys even takes after his grandfather and gets all dressed up.”— Charlotte, Austin, Texas, @char598

“When my brother, David, passed away suddenly last October, my husband Fred and I were tasked with cleaning out his house and moving his kids into a smaller space. It was heartache on top of heartache. David had many deep passions — architecture, graphic design, railroads, urban planning, Berlin, ancient Rome, the World’s Fair to name only a few — and the number of books reflected the depth of his interest in all these topics. Winnowing down his lovingly assembled collection was a heart-wrenching prospect, and breaking it apart felt disrespectful. We only had three weeks to clean out the house and pack. I spent the first week reaching out to friends, family, train museums, professors in various subject areas, vintage booksellers, design book dealers, and many others. After a while we realized we simply didn’t have time to find loving homes for all of his books, and committed to donating the boxes and boxes to a local library bookstore. But before dropping them off we decided to handwrite ‘From the collection of David E. Levine’ in as many of the books as we could. This small gesture brought us some comfort—the idea of spreading his memory, particularly among people with like-minded interests.”⁠ - Jodi Levine @supermakeit ⁠ ❤️ More ideas for tiny tributes on our Substack, subscribe for free via the link in our bio ❤️

Nineteen years ago when my oldest turned one and I was already expecting my second child, I wanted to find a way to document the everyday thoughts of mothering and family life. I remember reading my own birth story which my mom wrote and carefully preserved in my baby book, and I always felt so TREASURED to have pages of writing devoted solely to ME. So I decided to write my son a letter and shove it in his baby box. I started it with a simple “Dear Theo” and proceeded to fill the front and back of a piece of ordinary notebook paper with jottings about our everyday life — his emerging personality, struggles and triumphs, and anything that might give his future self a good idea of the person he was as a one-year-old. At that point I had no idea that I would continue this tradition for all his birthdays. And even though there are times when it ends up looking more like a diary entry of mine (maybe he’ll someday read between the lines and realize I’ve had my own bumpy road as a parent) but the letters are there, sandwiched between snapshots of his birthday cake and cards from grandma. Our family has grown to EIGHT kids (!) which means I have written 101 letters since that first one. Each time I sit down to write one, I am taking the time to think of that child as an individual. How is Silas doing? What does Zack bring to our family? Surely it’s a meditation that benefits me as much as it will someday benefit my children.” - Nikki Jouppe (@_nikalola_ ) Marion, MT

“My sisters and I were obsessed with the movie Beethoven when we were young — we watched it practically everyday! So when Beethoven’s 2nd came out on VHS, my mom decided to throw a “premier party.” We each dressed up as our favorite puppy, my mom was Missy and dad was Beethoven. We made construction paper collars, ate meatballs out of a dog bowl and then watched the movie together as a family. It was one of those things that didn’t take much effort, but my sisters and I were left with a memory that will last forever.”⁠ - Britt Tyshovnytsky Devon, PA @britt.tysh

Here at Like Magic Headquarters we have a few guiding principles in our quest to find the sweet spot where joy and meaning intersect, and none is more important to us than a quote picked up from “The Power of Moments” by Chip and Dan Heath. ⁠ ⁠ The quote: “Beware the soul-sucking force of reasonableness.”⁠ ⁠ These words that rang in our heads when we read about this ritual from Julia Oller in Oakland, CA, for Valentine’s Day:⁠ ⁠ “When visiting my grandma’s house as children, my siblings and I headed straight for her TV to lose our brain cells watching Playhouse Disney — a luxury, since we didn’t have cable at home. One episode of the weird robot show Rolie Polie Olie imagined what it would look like for children and parents to switch places for a day which resulted in the Rolie Polie kids making a “totally chocolate dinner,” while singing and dancing around the kitchen. My mom, @sliceofheavencbus , an avid chocolate lover and now a professional baker, took the idea to heart. Nearly every Valentine’s Day for the past 20 years, she’s taken a page from that episode, and whipped up soufflés, cakes (like the one pictured) and pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (“for something healthy”). We ate salad for lunch in anticipation of the sugar bomb to come, and barely broke into the Valentine’s Day sweets we received in the morning. During my freshman year of college, I came home for the weekend exactly once — to celebrate Totally Chocolate Dinner. Gathering everyone together has become more difficult as significant others have entered the mix, but Totally Chocolate Dinner will always be my sweetest Valentine’s Day memory.” — Julia Oller, Oakland, CA, @roseinbloom24 ⁠ ⁠ What about you? Please share your own magically unreasonable rituals via the link in our bio (where you can also subscribe to our FREE newsletter and discover *more* magic!).

“A few years ago I felt inspired to rally my four siblings and give my parents a different kind of Christmas present. We were all going to be at their house for the holidays with our spouses and kids, so I told them not to decorate their tree — we were going to do it ourselves and surprise them with something fun. Leading up to Christmas, I had asked my siblings to send me their favorite memories of growing up (it worked out to about 20 per sibling) then I printed those notes on fancy paper and fashioned them into ornaments. So the tree was decorated with all our favorite memories. When my parents woke up on Christmas morning, they were confused at first — it wasn’t the most beautiful looking tree, covered in tiny bits of paper! — but when they started reading, and slowly grasped what we had done, it was so beautiful. They both stood there and read them all, and just cried and cried. As did the rest of us.” - Kathleen Donahoe @kathleenicanrah

“Every year around Christmas since were were little, my mom has given us a holiday picture book. On the inside cover, she writes the year and a few memorable moments — births, weddings, trips, moves. In December, the stack of books (now higher than I’d like to admit) is brought out for reading and it turns into a trip down memory lane. Spouses like to see when they’re first mentioned and are always happy to see that they didn’t turn into a random footnote! I’ve started the same tradition with my kids and they love it, too. I pick out the newest or most beautiful book from that year, and of course always add some of my childhood favorites as well.” -Erin, Massachusetts

Every year, I create a verrry simple advent calendar for my daughters. I hang 25 envelopes, each containing a photo from the past year featuring our travels, milestones, family, and friends. It’s become a favorite tradition, a way to reflect on memories from the year that’s ending and to talk about the people we love. Bonus! It gets me to print out photos that would otherwise just live on my phone. My girls are 10 and 13 this year, and so far they still enjoy taking turns opening an envelope each day and talking or laughing about the moment in the photo. Once we take the photos down in January they get added to a basket on the coffee table for year-round perusing. At these ages, so much of our life is spent on the go - dashing to and from dance classes and sports practices and rehearsals. That moment of reflection as we look at a photo feels even more important, pausing to remember where the year has taken us and the experiences we’ve had together.⁠ - Nicole C, @nicorreia

“I began making a pie every Friday with my two young sons in the early years of the pandemic. Back then, it was a way of marking the days of the week, since they all seemed to blur together with no structure. The boys coined it Friday Pie Day. We looked forward to it every week and spent the other days deciding which kind of pie we were going to make. Chocolate Pudding Pie? Triple Coconut Cream Pie? Chocolate Silk Pie? Unlike making cookies, baking a pie can be a long process—we make the dough for the crust the night before and chill it, then we spend time making the filling, then, to their dismay, once it’s in the crust, it has to cool for a few hours! So by dessert time, we are all bubbling with excitement. Now, years later, Thursdays feel more like Thursdays and Fridays feel more like Fridays, but Pie Day has morphed into other meaningful traditions. My dad died two years ago, but when he was going through cancer treatment, I would always bring a few pies for him when I visited. Not only because he loved pie, but also because I have a hard time putting my feelings into words sometimes, so I told him that I had baked them into the pies. After we returned home, I would get texts throughout the week with pictures of how much pie was left, or notes like ‘Look what’s for lunch!’ And pies became my love language.” — Leslie Lewis Sigler, Soquel, CA

"Our kids had long known that we were too cheap to spring for hotel mini bar snacks when we stay in a hotel. (Why are commonplace chips and candy suddenly so much more appealing when they’re 10 times their normal price?) So a few years ago before a trip to Boston, my husband and I secretly packed an assortment of Pringles, Kit Kats, Goldfish, gum, seltzers, cookies, and other treats and, before they got to our hotel room, I figured out a way to sneak everything in and arrange them in the fridge. When the boys walked in we said “You know what, guys? Take whatever you want!” and they couldn’t believe their ears. Of course, after doing this a few times, the kids have come to expect it and alas, one day I will forget and they will walk into a hotel room and pop open a $17 can of Pringles! But it will be worth it for their delight that very first time!" @supermakeit