I’m going to start with something that might sound unusual at first: I charmed my crucifix. Not in the fantasy-movie sense of spells or supernatural tricks, but in a much simpler and more human way. I took an object that already carried deep meaning for me and deliberately filled the moments around it with faith, love, gratitude, and attention until it became a powerful reminder of those states of mind.
Some people would call that psychology. Some would call it faith. I’m comfortable calling it magic, mostly because the word reminds us that there are still parts of life we experience before we fully understand them. The important point is not the label but the practice and the results it creates in everyday life.
My process is extremely simple. I hold the crucifix in my hand and close my fingers around it so I can feel the weight and shape of it. Then I slow my breathing, relax my body, and focus on calm, positive thoughts while I pray quietly and let myself settle into a peaceful state of mind.
Sometimes I pray in words, and sometimes I simply sit in gratitude. I try to think about love, kindness, forgiveness, and hope while I’m holding it. Over time the object becomes associated with those feelings, and eventually just touching it brings those states back almost automatically.
I also like to hold the crucifix while watching sunrises or sunsets because those moments naturally create feelings of awe and calm. The colors of the sky—warm yellows, soft pinks, glowing gold—remind me of warmth and compassion, and many people have long associated those colors with the kind of love Jesus talked about in the Gospels.
If someone forgets what that kind of love feels like, watching a sunrise or sunset is a good reminder. The warmth and light in those moments have a way of bringing people back to gratitude and reflection. Holding the crucifix during those moments simply ties the object to those experiences.
People often ask why something like this would work. I can’t claim to know the full answer, but there are some interesting clues from modern science. Psychology shows that the human brain is strongly influenced by belief, expectation, and association.
The pharmaceutical world calls one of these effects the placebo effect. In medicine, a person can sometimes experience real improvement even from a treatment with no active ingredient simply because they believe it will help. Belief itself becomes part of the mechanism.
That doesn’t mean the effect is fake. It means belief and expectation are powerful forces inside the human mind and body. I simply use that same principle intentionally by associating my crucifix with positive emotional states.
Another way people describe something similar is through the idea often called the law of attraction. When you focus on gratitude, generosity, and optimism, your behavior changes in subtle ways, and those changes can influence the opportunities and outcomes that follow.
In my own life I’ve noticed something interesting: when I hold the crucifix and deliberately enter a state of calm and faith, I tend to make better decisions. I’m less reactive, more thoughtful, and more open to possibilities I might otherwise overlook.
Maybe the object itself isn’t changing the world around me. Maybe it’s changing the way I approach the world. Either way, the result is positive, and that’s what matters to me.
Faith, in my experience, behaves a lot like a muscle. If you never exercise it, it weakens and becomes difficult to access. If you practice it regularly through reflection, gratitude, prayer, or quiet attention, it becomes stronger and easier to enter that state of trust and calm.
So my approach is simple: practice belief deliberately. Start by allowing yourself to believe that intention matters. Then strengthen that belief gradually by repeating the practice in small ways every day.
Some people are uncomfortable with the word magic because of their religious background. That’s perfectly fine, and they don’t have to use that word at all. In Christian language, the same experience might be described as faith, grace, prayer, or even the quiet presence of miracles in everyday life.
My native spiritual language is Christianity because those are the stories I grew up with as a child. Those stories became a kind of foundation for how I think about love, kindness, humility, and hope, and they remain a natural way for me to explain deeper ideas.
Jesus often taught through stories rather than complex explanations. His parables were simple and memorable because they used everyday experiences to illustrate deeper truths about generosity, forgiveness, and the way human beings should treat one another.
Stories have always been one of the most powerful ways to communicate ideas. They allow people to absorb meaning emotionally as well as intellectually. That’s why many traditions—religious, philosophical, and cultural—use stories as teaching tools.
Science and faith sometimes seem to be in conflict, but in many cases they are simply addressing different kinds of questions. Science tends to explain how things work, while faith traditions often focus on how people should live and what gives life meaning.
When I charm my crucifix, I’m not trying to reject science. I understand that scientists might explain the experience in terms of conditioning, belief reinforcement, and emotional association. That explanation may very well be correct.
But understanding the mechanism doesn’t remove the value of the practice. People used fire long before they understood combustion, and gravity worked long before anyone described it mathematically.
In the same way, people can benefit from practices that encourage gratitude, reflection, and faith even if the deeper mechanics are still being explored. Sometimes it’s enough to recognize that a practice helps us live better.
If someone is skeptical about the idea of charming an object, I always suggest the same thing: try it yourself. Choose something meaningful, hold it during moments of gratitude or prayer, and repeat that practice regularly for a while.
Pay attention to what happens in your own mind. Notice whether the object begins to remind you of calm, faith, or hope when you hold it. You might discover that the ritual becomes a powerful anchor for positive states of mind.
At the end of the day, the crucifix itself isn’t the source of power. The real power comes from the love, belief, and intention we bring into the moment. The object simply becomes a symbol that helps us access those states more easily.
For me, the experience always comes back to love—the kind of love Jesus spoke about so often. Compassion, forgiveness, humility, and gratitude are simple ideas, but they can transform the way we move through the world.
When I hold the crucifix during a sunrise and let myself feel that warmth and gratitude, I’m reminded of those teachings in a very immediate way. The ritual helps bring those ideas out of theory and into daily practice.
You can call that faith. You can call it psychology. You can call it magic if you like. The name matters far less than the effect it has on how we live.
