Dear Friends in Magic,
In times when the world feels uncertain, art, and especially the art of magic, can become both a refuge and a response. This week, magician and philosopher Ferdinando Buscema invites us to consider how our practice of wonder can help us stay human amidst chaos. In this Museletter, Ferdinando reminds us that our sleights and scripts are more than tricks; they are acts of quiet courage and creative defiance.
Magic in Times of Chaos
by Ferdinando Buscema
Like many of us, I spend a lot of time thinking about magic. After nearly fifty years of this love affair, it still fills me every single day with deep joy and wonder. And, like many of us, I also read the news—trying to stay informed about what’s happening in the world—which can sometimes be overwhelming. It often seems as if the world is out of joint, spinning faster and stranger with every passing day. Yet, amid the noise and confusion, there is still so much beauty, kindness, and love worth protecting. Our attention is constantly pulled toward outrage and crisis, but the good is still there, if we know where to look. What follows are a few reflections on how to navigate this landscape of “High Weirdness”, as author Erik Davis calls it, and find some balance between these opposing forces.
Legend has it that on the night of April 14, 1912, as the Titanic sank into the freezing Atlantic, the eight musicians on board made a baffling choice. Instead of trying to save their lives, in the face of imminent disaster, they kept on playingtheir music.
Why did they act in such an unnatural way? We can speculate that perhaps, in that moment of chaos, they asked themselves, more or less consciously, What is my place in all this?
And maybe the answer was simple, bold, beautiful, and mad, “Just play on.”
It’s a striking image, one that feels deeply resonant for our times, as we find ourselves caught in our personal and collective turmoil. The world outside grows weirder and more incomprehensible by the day—faster, louder, meaner, and out of control. The effects on our inner lives are no fun–anxiety, helplessness, and disillusionment. And yet… here we are, magicians still honing our craft, still practicing our sleights, still rehearsing impossible things.
So why do we keep playing? Is it worth spending time and energy in the face of potential global disasters? Are we going to save the world from sinking with our tricks? Probably not. But magic is what we do, so we’ll keep on doing it anyway.
Magic—in its useless, beautiful, rebellious nature—is our way of staying human in a world that has forgotten how. In an age obsessed with efficiency and optimization, doing something that serves no practical purpose, like practicing sleight of hand or devoting endless hours to crafting wonder, is an act of quiet defiance and aesthetic resistance. We don’t do magic because it “makes sense.” We do it because it keeps our souls alive, and, hopefully, offers a glimpse of joy and wonder to those we share our art with.
Italian philosopher Franco “Bifo” Berardi wrote:
“I think that despair is the only appropriate intellectual response to our times. At the same time, I also think that despair and joy are not mutually exclusive, since despair is a mode of being of the intellectual mind, while joy is a way of being of the embodied mind.”
That’s a lifesaving reminder. Opposite feelings are not enemies. They can coexist, woven into the same breath. You can feel the weight of the world pressing down and still laugh at a dumb joke with a friend. You can be overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all and still be moved to tears by a song or a film. You can grieve and still dance in your kitchen, sing in the shower, fall in love, or play with your cat. You can be heartbroken about the world and still find yourself astonished by a magic effect, a new Fool Us episode, a piece of art, a book, or a friend.
Despair and joy–the real double lift–the secret move for surviving in times of High Weirdness.
Italian author Italo Calvino offers us a powerful magic spell, the ultimate compass to navigate our world:
“The hell of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the hell that we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to avoid suffering for it. The first is easy for many: to accept hell and become part of it to the point of not seeing it anymore. The second is risky and requires continuous attention and learning: seeking and knowing how to recognize who and what, in the midst of hell, is not hell, and make it last, and give it space.”
Those words are a master key. That’s the trick. That’s the magic we need. We must learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of hell, is not hell, and then help those things last, and give them space to flourish. It all comes down to attention. What we pay attention to becomes our world. We become what we behold, and learning to direct our attention is no small task, especially in a world engineered to distract, disorient, and drag us into endless doom-scrolls.
So, my friends, here are three practical field notes, from one explorer to another, for thriving in the weirdness.
1. Practice — Attention as a martial art
Our art of magic lives and breathes through practice. Whether you’re refining a sleight, polishing a script, or rehearsing a full act, every moment of focused work is an act of quiet resistance against the chaos outside. Each minute spent at the table or at the mirror is a balm for the soul. When we practice, we’re not merely perfecting moves or words, we’re cultivating the martial art of attention. Attention is the ultimate superpower–the ability to shape our reality according to our will. So, learn to love your practice.
2. Perform — Just do it!
Whatever your level of skill or devotion to the art, magic is meant to be performed. Whether you are an amateur, a professional, or something in between, the more you share your magic, the more you spread joy and wonder to the people you meet. No, you’re not going to change the world with your Coins Across or Ambitious Card, but for a brief time, you have the chance to bring light, laughter, and astonishment into someone’s life. That’s no small feat. Magic is good medicine.
I’ve come to believe that real magic is the transmutation of despair into joy—by any means necessary. It’s how we say to the darkness–you don’t get the last word.
3. Community — That’s where true happiness lies.
No person is an island. Each of us is part of a greater whole. The communities we belong to shape who we are. We need others to form our sense of self, and, most importantly, we need others to create and share our happiness (and our sadness, too.) We’re so lucky to be part of the Magic & Mystery School community–this living, loving, breathing circle of wonder-workers. Personally, like many, I’ve found here a home for the soul. I’ve found friendship, knowledge, inspiration, support, and countless gifts. Here we share our joys and sorrows under the wings of loving and wise elders.
This community is an island of sanity, joy, and play amid chaos and darkness. It is a place of the heart, where we can nourish our souls, both in person and from afar. Cherish this place, and seize every opportunity to engage, contribute, and celebrate.
There you have it, my friends.
We don’t know where our global ship is sailing, or what the next wave will bring. The headlines may scream, but we, like the musicians on the Titanic, will keep on playing. Because this is what we do–our gentle, steady form of resistance, to multiply hope, beauty, and joy in the face of darkness.
