How my “laid-back” brother helps me shift my mood

My brother Thor describes himself as laid back. “I’m just over here living the Kowabunga lifestyle,” he’ll say, giving a thumbs-up while doing this weird eye-flutter-y thing (he appears to believe that all laid-back people are either perpetually high or on the edge of having a stroke).

The Kowabunga lifestyle ends, however, if someone displeases him. Since my family’s love language is tormenting each other, this happens regularly. Like when someone else eats the leftover Chik-fil-A nuggets at a family gathering. “Are all the nuggets gone?” I’ve heard him roar before slamming the refrigerator shut. “This is worse than ass cancer.”

Worse than ass cancer. That’s how my laid-back, Kowabunga-lifestyle brother describes anything that goes slightly wrong.

It’s usually food-related. Like when he moved to Michigan for med school and could no longer get his preferred type of pizza. That was way worse than ass cancer.

So was the time the restaurant he wanted was two miles from the exit on a road trip.

And, oddly for a future doctor, someone sneezing in his general vicinity is also So. Much. Worse. than ass cancer.

In Thor’s world, there’s a long list.

In my world, there aren’t quite as many things. I did, however, find one this morning.

Google failed me when I was trying to search for a line I know I’ve read somewhere on the interwebs…I just don’t know where. Or exactly how the person phrased it. Or really any particularly helpful details.

I just remember the general idea: “Magic is the new mindfulness.”

I want so badly to find the article because I love that idea. Mindfulness has taken the world by storm. If magic is going to do that next, then…

Well, I don’t know. It’s too exciting of a concept for me to put into words. Magic as the next cultural obsession??

Not pulling rabbits out of hats or David Blaine-style illusions, either. Magic. Full on, witchy, manifesting, woo-woo, mystical magic. The kind Liz Gilbert and Martha Beck and shamans and medicine men and women talk about. That kind of magic becoming so accepted that it gets the amount of press that mindfulness has gotten over the last decade? Could there even be a better time to better time to be alive?!?!

But I can’t find the freaking article. Which is a bummer.

Fortunately, I believe in magic…and mindfulness. So, instead of being disappointed, I listened as my brain went, “This is worse than ass cancer,” then had a thoroughly delightful morning cackling away as I wrote this article.

Because, to me, having a way to shift your mood is magic. The most useful kind of practical magic, in fact.

I spent a long time not knowing how to shift out of misery and exhaustion and general depression-slash-burn-out-y-blah-ness in my younger years. Then, thanks in large part to shamanism and other mystical practices, I found a way out. One that, for this particular gal, happened to be even more fun than my forays with mindfulness.

So I’ve gone deeper and deeper and deeper. Fun and effective? Sign me up.

Hopefully, I’ll get to play a part in helping to make magic the next mindfulness. I happen to believe that we start cultural revolutions by talking about interesting ideas with our pals, so here I am, doing that.

And, if it helps, maybe consider this magic trick the next time you find yourself feeling disappointed: channel your inner Thor and call whatever bummed you out “worse than ass cancer.”

If it shifts your mood as well as it shifted mine–well, that’s magic, plain and simple.

Also, my apologies to all the folks out there who actually have ass cancer. Seems like it’s the pits. Please pardon my family’s irreverent sense of humor. Or consider adopting it for yourself because, after magic, irreverent humor is the best.