URSABLOG: Christmas Magic

I knew that Yiannis, my partner here at URSA S&P, had a surprise for our office Christmas party last Friday, but even though he was bursting to tell me, I wouldn’t let him. He was so excited about it that I almost felt sorry for him, but I wanted to keep the suspense and let him enjoy the surprise. I was curious however, and as I arrived at the venue I wondered what it could be, but there was no obvious sound equipment for a band or singer, or a stage set up, or anything else out of the ordinary except a very cool place tastefully decorated for the season.

It was only when I was sitting down with Yiannis that I began to understand. When I had arrived I was introduced to Raffaele, a friend of a friend of Yiannis. He was tall, with a shaven head, thin moustache and a narrow, tufty black goatee beard. I welcomed him, but he didn’t seem like a normal shipping guy. He had two black opaque earrings, and was wearing a black suit and white shirt which seemed to exaggerate his height and thinness. It was his eyes however that were really noticeable: I could swear from memory that they were blue, but now looking online I can’t be sure. It was their movement however, how he looked at people, how he scanned the room that really struck me. If he was a broker, he was certainly used to reading body language, and more. He seemed to be searching for something in people’s faces, in people’s eyes. And those eyes – blue? green? – had a twinkle in them. I could imagine him being an excellent seducer.

After a couple of drinks at the bar, Raffaele came and sat down with Yiannis and I at our table. He said to Yiannis “Shall I start now?” and Yiannis said “of course, I can’t wait.” It clicked. This was the surprise. The look of sheer happiness on Yiannis’ face was impressive, as I now understood his excitement and relief that he could now share with us what he had planned. Raffaele called Maria over and introduced himself. He then asked Yiannis for a number from one to a hundred, and then me. Then he looked at Maria, and wrote something on his note pad. Then he asked Maria for a number, and when she told him, he showed the number he had written down.

“Plaka kaneis!” she exclaimed. You cannot imagine how difficult it is to impress Maria, but she was indeed impressed and ran off to her table to tell everyone. The excitement built around the room as people began to understand what was going on. Raffaele went from table to table, from group to group, performing – I am reluctant to say magic or tricks because this was much more sophisticated and classy – to an increasingly appreciative and enthusiastic audience. News of this spread to the staff working at the restaurant as well, and soon everyone was excited, and Yiannis was overjoyed, as well he might be.

The grand finale was spectacular, watched by all of us in a group, and by the waiters, the bar staff, and even some of the people in the kitchen came out too. I will not reveal much more about the show except to say that it was brilliant. Furthermore, as one of the volunteers – reluctant, in fact he chose me – I can honestly say that the gasps of astonishment and amazement I heard as my eyes were shut as I felt what was going on around me left be puzzled. I could really feel something touching my shoulder. He was nowhere near me.

It was an excellent show and was enjoyed by everyone, most of all I think by Yiannis, and rightly so. This was followed by a barely serious awards ceremony, which further enhanced the happiness of the event. After a while, the youngsters started leaving in search of further, different magic in the Athenian night, and some of us stayed a while to bask in the warm glow of a very successful evening.

I have thought a lot about the evening since, particularly about the show that Rafaele put on. As the finale took place, I had the opportunity to watch people and their reactions. Yiannis, as would be expected as instigator and creator of the celebrations, was an enthusiastic participant, both watching and taking part, and his joy was infectious. Others were blown away by what they couldn’t understand, others were looking to see how it worked, where the trick was. Others just enjoyed the show. Each had their own point of view, their own perspective, their own interpretation. I felt a great deal of affection for all of my colleagues, and reflected how lucky I was to spend most of my waking hours with them.

I cannot speak for them, but for me this show made me think about magic (although I am sure Raffaele would wince at the term: he is a mentalist not a magician) and how we react to it. Some of us create it, some of us spread it, some of us can’t believe it, some of us try and work out where the trick is and are suspicious of it even when we are affected by it, and some of us just enjoy the show and being part of it. Personally I did not have a great desire to know how it worked, but neither was I blown away; I am old enough to have experienced many different things and I have ceased trying to overthink things in favour of just living them. The warm feeling I felt was because of the company around me, not the magic itself.

I have experienced many magical moments in my life, and at Christmas too. But the magic belongs to the moment, not to life. Many times I have tried to hold on to the magic only to have it slip through my fingers because I held it too tight, or not even be able to hold it because it was so big that I couldn’t get my arms around it. Or that it was too hot – or too cold – to hold on to for too long. Sometimes it was too heavy, and I did not have the strength to carry it. Other times the magic was light itself, and could not be held. Sometimes it was like a firework, it shot up into the sky, burned brightly, and fell away into the dark and disappeared. Sometimes the magic – also like a firework – just blew up in my face, because I was too close to it, and could not step back and simply admire the beauty. Sometimes I was simply too afraid of the magic itself, it frightened me because it revealed too much about myself to me, or the doors it could open, or the risks it brought, so I never really experienced the full gifts it could bring.?

In any case, magic rarely lasts beyond the moment it exists in. We go back to our world, and real life – time, gravity, people – intervene. Who do we blame? The creator, the spreader, the observers, the participants? No, we can only blame ourselves for not appreciating the magic for what it was. If the magic fading saddens us, this is about us, not about the magic.

The magic of the evening, for me, was the magic of being there, in the moment, with my friends and colleagues, and their wives, husbands and partners, experiencing something that brought us together and brought us happiness. This feeling – especially in a competitive shipbroking office – will not last for long. Real life has already knocked on the door and is loudly asserting its presence.

But this does not mean that magic is useless, or a waste of time. Magic can only exist in the world, with people. And there is so much magic to be seen if we can only lift our eyes and look around this. This does not stop bad things happening, and indeed some people create the illusion of magic to do evil things. But we cannot experience the magic without living it and living it, I am convinced, is better than not.

The ancient festivals of the solstice, yuletide, Christmas, Hannukah, Saturnalia, even Santa Lucia day in Sweden, come from an ancient desire – still within us – to drive the darkness away with light. And there is sometimes nothing more magical than arriving at the home of a loved one, and seeing the door open and light flooding out into the darkness together with the warmth of welcome and love. But it is not just about light, or magic, but people. And at Christmas especially perhaps, we should remember that there is never any magic for us – or for others - without people in our lives to share it. This is where the magic happens, and this is how we will remember it when we look back on it, when all the darkness has been pushed out of our memories. I hope this Christmas is a happy – and magical one – for you all.?

Simon Ward

www.ursashipbrokers.gr