Posted on January 17, 2025
“I wanted to offer… the tool of magic, not as entertainment, but as a tool – for building self-confidence, communication, a sense of accomplishment, and connection.”
My name is Omri Bitton, Amitim 2014, and I’m from Dimona. I’m married with two kids and another on the way. I am a professional magician – I perform shows and events, run workshops, and give lectures on creative thinking through magic.
Achieving the Impossible
At the age of six, I received my first magic kit. Today, I realize that what captivated me wasn’t the trick or the invisible thread, but the fact that I could do something that even my father couldn’t get his head around. Achieving the impossible isn’t just a cliché – there are people who truly do it. You could say it’s just magic, but I believe it’s also a way of approaching life: that things are possible, even if they don’t seem possible right now. Everything has a method, a way, and even if we don’t know or see it, it exists. That’s what captivated me, and it’s also the experience I try to convey through magic.
The best magic is more than just a trick – it’s a moment. That moment when our human mind, which is used to explanations and logic, doesn’t understand what just happened.
When someone’s in a hard situation, feeling tired and broken, and suddenly you perform a magic trick for them – you elevate them slightly above reality, allowing them to feel something different for just a few seconds, something beyond logic. It’s an amazing experience. That’s the magic itself. And when it’s a few people together – suddenly the number one person thought of is on someone else’s card – it creates a moment of connection, an interaction between people when, all too often, they might feel alone inside their thoughts. It’s that fleeting experience – like when you suddenly hear a song that you connect with. So, that’s my piece of heaven – magic.
Life is Not a Magic Show
I’ve always been an optimistic person, someone who believes that everything will be okay. But sometimes, it’s not easy. On October 7th, my wife had just given birth, my son was only two weeks old. On October 8th, I wrote a really tough post with the title, “We Lost.”
Back when I did my regular army service, I served at the Nahal Oz outpost for almost 7 consecutive months. It was one of the hardest periods of my life. Every day, I saw the reality of Gaza right in front of me – I saw them shooting at us, approaching the fence, throwing stones at us. When October 7th came, I felt that it couldn’t have unfolded any other way. What did we expect? That they wouldn’t use everything they had at their disposal?
When I was at Nahal Oz, we trained for raids. I knew Ilan Fiorentino z”l, who was the kibbutz security chief at Nahal Oz. We did drills with him — we knew the entire kibbutz, we had maps, we learned the roads. The worst scenario we imagined was an infiltration by five or six terrorists. That was the worst-case scenario, but the point is, we had a scenario. No one believed it would unfold on this scale, but we knew that, despite how impossible it seemed, it would happen. Somehow, it would happen.
So I really try to make a clear distinction between “stage time” – that moment I frame for people – and everyday life. I carry these beliefs within me, but I don’t go around all day performing magic for people. On a personal, smaller level, I can believe that it’s possible to achieve what seems impossible. But when it comes to something national, on such a large scale and with so many factors involved, an ongoing process that takes many years – there are no magic tricks. There, what you prepare before the show is what you’ll have on stage. And here, the result was predictable.
So I keep things separate, because there has to be a distinction. In the harsh reality of everyday life, magic should be escapism, not life itself.
When One Door Closes, Another Opens
I was the stereotypical kid from Dimona who would travel 3 hours to Tel Aviv to learn magic because there was nothing here. So, right after the army, I opened a magic shop here, for the kids who were interested and even for those who didn’t know they’d love it yet, because I know how powerful magic can be for children. During the war, I had to close the shop. It was a huge blow – closing the door on that dream. Then, one day in July or August, I said to myself, “Okay, now what?” I realized I wasn’t going to reopen the shop because starting over was too difficult. But I knew I wanted to do something meaningful. That’s when the idea came to me to work with teenagers who had been evacuated from the Gaza Envelope. I reached out to a friend who is in charge of youth at Kibbutz Kerem Shalom – these are kids who’ve been through tough experiences, who lost friends, and who used to live just a meter away from each other and are now scattered. I wanted to offer them the tool of magic, not as entertainment, but as a tool – for building self-confidence, communication, a sense of accomplishment, and connection. I was fortunate to receive support from the Alumni Venture Fund, and the program launched, becoming a huge success.
Every year, I donate to the fund, and it never crossed my mind that I would use it myself. Then, last year, a friend from my cohort won a grant and published a book, which now sits on my shelf. It was only because of this experience that the idea for the project came to me in the first place. Somewhere in my subconscious, I had the idea that every year, graduates initiate projects, and suddenly it all clicked. I knew I would find a way to carry out the project, even without the support of the AVF. But without a doubt, it’s thanks to the fund – simply because it exists – that it came to life. In the end, these are the things that build the world. This is what holds us together. During Hanukkah, I did maybe fifteen performances, but the day when the kids put on a show for the children at the kibbutz – those are the meaningful moments.
Feeling Comfortable with Uncertainty
It’s very difficult for Israelis to feel a lack of control – that’s why many magicians prefer to perform abroad. Israelis always want to know how you did the trick; they don’t want to be fooled. I, like most Israelis, need to feel that I’m in control, or at least that I’m aware of what’s happening. As a soldier, the thing that always challenged me the most was the hierarchy. The fact that there was a commander above me giving orders that sometimes made no sense – that used to break me. Being in a situation where someone else makes decisions for me – even today, I find it very difficult. And yet, I’m constantly trying to bring my audience back to the experience that it’s okay not to know. I tell them: Enjoy, everything is fine. Look at how much fun you were having when you didn’t know, compared to the disappointment in the moment after the reveal.
Uncertainty is an experience we need to learn to feel more comfortable with. What these young people faced after October 7th was a lack of control and uncertainty in its most extreme and difficult forms. Through magic, I can offer them a kind of restorative experience – to feel that I can experience uncertainty but enjoy it, and how, when I perform magic, I’m the one holding all the cards.
