There's a secret we don't know we know. It manifests when we connect with what we're passionate about, what energizes us, and what gives us life. The result is magic, a magic that attracts, mesmerizes, and is capable of changing the world.

I heard his voice in an Instagram video and it captivated me. He's one of those artists who captivate because of something other than his voice or the song itself, but rather the way he performs it. Arqam Al Abri is the name of this turbaned, dark-skinned Arab man who joined the group Music Travel Love to perform the song. Stand by me, en la cual entona una estrofa. Sí, ¡una estrofa! Suficiente para provocar esa sensación inexplicable de querer volver a escucharla una y otra vez.

Watching this man's performance made me understand that sometimes, to connect with others and the universe, we just have to step out of the way, allow a higher power to take over, so that our performance can then merge and create a spell that extends through our voice, hands, and words, reaching into our hearts to touch the infinite.

We've all experienced it at some point. Let's think of the moments when an authentic emotion has demanded an outlet, and we've been amazed by the words that form on our lips, but emerge from the soul, as if we were merely the channel through which a higher intelligence transmits them.

I've felt that enchantment in the voices of Pavarotti, Mercedes Sosa, Juan Gabriel, Armando Manzanero, or listening to André Rieu's violin with the choir in the aria from the opera Madame Butterfly, as well as Yo-yo Ma's cello. In the same way, it seems as if they are merely the medium. Their art manages to transport us to another dimension and bring us closer to the mystery of the unfathomable.

This magic can happen with any type of activity, when it's done with passion and comes from the soul. I've felt it in speakers, whose words aren't what's important, but what's behind them: a presence and connection that transcends distances; in visual artists whose work provokes an inner stirring when we contemplate it in silence; in teachers whose teachings are engraved thanks to the enthusiasm with which they transmit their wisdom; in those who create and cultivate gardens that reveal their beauty; in writers whose lyrics seem like a scalpel capable of opening those intangible spaces of the soul; in those who dance and follow the rhythm of the music, driven by the desire to release and express an energy through the body, which demands it regardless of whether they are seen or not; and, of course, in great orators who, with sufficient preparation and humility to step out of the way, allow the force of the divine to speak through them and touch us.

I wonder what this immaterial aspect that passes through us to make itself present consists of. Where does it lie, what is its purpose, and why does it touch us? Is it always within our reach, or is it beyond us? Could we compare it to the muse, to love, to God? Should we invoke it, frequent it, or does it arrive as a surprise?

What I do know is that without that subtle body, works of art would not exist, artists would not conquer stages or fame, without that force, human beings would not surpass themselves, they would not have conquered space or created poetry.

Perhaps by deciphering that secret we don't know we know, we will gain the confidence to let go of the armor of ego and appearances, to step aside and allow ourselves to be carried away by the intangible that lives within us and is capable of creating magic.