Enchantment

1. Enchantment is Found in Deep Engagement, Not Grand Beauty

Enchantment is small wonder magnified through meaning, fascination caught in the web of fable and memory.

Beyond the picturesque. Enchantment isn't about seeking out grand, objective beauty, but rather about finding wonder in the everyday through deep engagement. The author recalls childhood moments of fascination with seemingly mundane things like buckets of browning rose petals or the red lights on chimney stacks, highlighting that enchantment arises from close attention and personal meaning, not from universally acclaimed vistas.

Childlike curiosity. As children, we are naturally more attuned to enchantment because we are deeply engaged with the world around us. We notice the small details, the subtle shifts in light, the whispers in the leaves. As we grow older, we often suppress this curiosity in the rush towards adulthood, but enchantment waits patiently for us to remember that we need it.

Personal meaning. The author's childhood experiences, like the black pebbles with hidden geodes or the fossils she collected, were not inherently beautiful, but they held personal meaning and sparked a sense of wonder. This suggests that enchantment is not about the object itself, but about the quality of experience that accompanies close attention and the sense of contact that emerges from noticing.

2. Disconnection Fuels Anxiety; Reconnection is the Antidote

I increasingly feel that a part of me is missing, the part that is able to sit with the seismic changes that come, to sense them and experience them and integrate them, rather than to merely administrate them.

Modern malaise. The author describes a pervasive sense of unreality and disconnection that many people feel in the modern age. This is fueled by constant change, rolling news cycles, and the fragmentation of social connections. This disconnection leads to a feeling of being small and overwhelmed by the scale of the world.

Loss of meaning. The author notes a sense of absence, a disconnection from meaning that manifests in materialism, smartphone addiction, and a desire to avoid the natural world. This loss is also evident in the inability to find meaningful language for grief and the isolation that comes from a lack of shared rites of passage.

Yearning for transcendence. The author expresses a yearning for transcendent experience, for depth, and for meaning-making. This is not just about changing the world, but about changing oneself, softening boundaries, and finding a greater fluidity in being. The author seeks "negative capability," the ability to reside in uncertainties without reaching for fact and reason.

3. Unlearning is Essential for Growth and Re-Enchantment

I’m not learning so much as unlearning.

Beyond surface knowledge. The author's experience of relearning to swim highlights the importance of unlearning old habits and assumptions. It's not enough to simply acquire new information; we must also dismantle the ingrained patterns that hold us back. This process is often uncomfortable and requires humility.

The process of unlearning. Unlearning is not a gradual process, but rather a series of lurches and stumbles. It involves letting go of the ego, accepting imperfection, and allowing oneself to be reformed. The author describes the experience as a deconstruction, a dismantling of the self, before a new understanding can emerge.

Pandemic unlearning. The pandemic forced a broader unlearning of life as it was known. The author notes that the urgent living of that time led to a loss of many small, essential practices, like meditation and time alone. This highlights the need to actively reclaim those practices and to resist the tendency to prioritize productivity over well-being.

4. Ritual and Pilgrimage Reconnect Us to Meaning

Sacred places are no longer given to us, and they are rarely shared between whole communities. They are now containers for our own knowing, our own meanings. They don’t translate across minds. It falls on us to keep them.

Hierophanies in the everyday. The author explores the concept of hierophany, the way the divine reveals itself through ordinary objects. She recalls her grandmother's ritual of eating an orange as a sacred moment, highlighting that meaning can be found in the most commonplace of things when approached with reverence.

Making meaning. The author's pilgrimage to the Black Prince Well demonstrates the human urge to sanctify places and imbue them with meaning. The well, though not grand or ancient, becomes a sacred space through the act of visiting it, tending to it, and offering gifts. This suggests that sacred places are not given, but made through our own knowing and intent.

Ritual as action. The author's creation of a Lammas loaf and her offering of flowers and herbs at the well highlight the importance of ritual as a way of connecting with meaning. Ritual is not about belief, but about action, a way of rooting ourselves in our bodies and weaving significance into the present moment.

5. Congregation Provides a Mirror for Self-Discovery

We witness, and we are in turn witnessed, and between the two, lies an obligation to do better in the future.

Beyond solitary practice. The author acknowledges her solitary nature but also expresses a desire for congregation, a group of people with whom she can gather to reflect and contemplate. She seeks a community that will hold her to account, keep her on track, and urge her towards doing good.

The Zen Peacemakers. The author's experience with the Zen Peacemaker Order highlights the power of a community that values not-knowing, bearing witness, and taking action. The retreat provides a space for deep listening, reflection, and a commitment to engaging with difficult truths.

The power of witnessing. The author notes that the act of witnessing, both in the Zen Peacemaker retreat and in her own life, changes her understanding of the world. It forces her to confront her own biases and to recognize the interconnectedness of all people. The act of being witnessed, in turn, creates an obligation to do better in the future.

6. Fire Reveals the Wildness and Limits of Control

Fire is the shadow side of enchantment, the dark, gleaming sorcery from which we can’t tear our gaze.

Beyond the tame. The author explores the dual nature of fire, both as a source of comfort and as a force of destruction. Fire reminds us of the wildness that still resides in nature and the limits of our control. It is a reminder that we cannot live whole lives in the absence of suffering.

The allure of danger. Like moths drawn to a flame, we are drawn to fire, even when we know it is dangerous. This is because fire is elemental to us, a reminder of the power that exists beyond our control. It is a force that demands our attention and makes us wonder about the relatedness of all things.

Burning away illusions. The author's experience of not being able to read highlights the way that fire can burn through our fragile illusions. It is a reminder that we must be willing to let go of old ways of knowing in order to make space for new ones. The author's experience of burnout is a kind of fire, a necessary destruction that makes way for new growth.

7. Air is a Medium for Letting Go and Receiving

The air is a place of letting go. Its business is dispersal, the dissipation of fog, the scattering of seeds. Subtly, imperceptibly, air brings in the new.

The invisible made visible. The author's fascination with the acoustic mirrors at Dungeness highlights the way that air can make the invisible visible. The mirrors capture and concentrate sound waves, revealing the narrow range of our own perception. This suggests that the air is full of information, if only we can find the right way to listen.

Air as a medium. The author notes that air is a medium for letting go, for dispersal, and for the introduction of the new. It is a reminder that change is constant and that we must be willing to adapt to the flow of life. The author's experience of flying highlights the way that air can make us feel ungrounded, but also free.

The power of the unseen. The author's desire to see a Brocken Spectre highlights the way that air can create illusions and make us question our perceptions. The Brocken Spectre is a reminder that there is always more to the world than what we can see, and that we must be open to the possibility of the unseen.

8. Keeping is an Act of Reciprocity and Stewardship

We must learn to know with our hands rather than our heads.

Beyond knowledge. The author's experience of beekeeping highlights the importance of learning through the hands, not just the head. It is a reminder that some knowledge can only be acquired through direct experience and that we must be willing to engage with the world in a physical way.

The value of skill. The author notes that many of the skills that were once commonplace have been lost through indifference. She emphasizes the importance of reclaiming these skills, not just for their practical value, but also for the culture that surrounds them. These skills are a way of connecting with the land and with our ancestors.

Reciprocity and stewardship. The author's understanding of the natural world is based on reciprocity and stewardship. We must take only what we need, transform it into something good, and give away a portion of what we have made. This is a way of honoring the gifts that we have received and of ensuring that they will continue to be available for future generations.

9. The Seed of All That Exists is in the Present Moment

We are not the passive recipients of the numinous, but the active constructors of a pantheon. We make the change, and it makes us.

Change as a constant. The author embraces change as a fundamental aspect of existence, drawing on Octavia Butler's concept of change as the only lasting truth. This suggests that we must be willing to adapt to the flow of life and to find meaning in the midst of constant transformation.

Active participation. The author emphasizes that we are not passive recipients of the numinous, but active constructors of our own reality. We shape the world, and the world shapes us. This suggests that we have a responsibility to engage with the world in a conscious and intentional way.

The power of the present. The author's experience of scattering wildflower seeds highlights the way that the present moment holds the potential for new growth. It is a reminder that we must be willing to let go of the past and to embrace the possibilities of the future. The seed of all that exists is in the present moment, waiting to be nurtured.

Last updated: January 28, 2025