Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

How do I begin reviewing my most anticipated book of the year? Perhaps by saying that I wasn’t disappointed. Since reading Wintering in 2020, I’ve fully joined the cult of Katherine May. I’ve read all of her other works, have listened to her podcast. I’ve picked up books she’s recommended; I follow her on Instagram, I subscribe to her newsletter. Needless to say, I went into this with high expectations but with a sense of reverence already in place. If you’re new to her work, I would start with Wintering (which, admittedly, is still my favorite). Enchantment felt, for me, like continuing a conversation that we’d already started. I don’t know if that’s particular to my situation or if others would feel a bit unmoored; I do know that a patron at the library told me she felt Enchanted was “dense.� I wouldn’t use that word…but I can see where it might help to have some context before diving in.

The subtitle of Enchanted is important: “Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age.� The key to doing this vital and necessary thing, according to May, is to reconnect with your childhood capacity for play and to pay close attention � not in the least to the natural world. She separates her book into four sections according to the elements: Earth, Water, Fire, and Air. And then she goes out into the world (in small ways, in the midst of a pandemic) and *pays attention.*

May notes that she’s scientific, that she’s not a believer in organized religion, that she grew up without ritual � but I think it’s honest to note that she’s not just asking “How do we find wonder?� but also, “How do we worship?� and “How do we pray?� Her answer is secular but it IS sacred. It’s spiritual. Fortunately for her and for me, this dovetails perfectly with my interests.

I’m a lapsed Catholic. In undergrad, I majored in English Literature and Religious Studies (not out of any sense of devotion but out of curiosity and, yes (!), enchantment). I’ve thought about (and discarded the notion of) being a high school Religion teacher, striving to make my students� experience of the topic more inclusive and more diverse than my own. I’ve officiated several weddings. I’ve thought about starting a business as an officiant. I’m thinking about joining a Unitarian Church (and then becoming a Unitarian minister). What I did become is a Children’s Librarian. My closest childhood friends became leaders within the SCA (Student Conservationist Association); hikers of the Appalachian Trail and the Long Trail; and nature photographers. Mary Oliver is my favorite poet. I live as near to the ocean as a poor Librarian can manage. I am HERE for a conversation about recovering childlike play and wonder, and seeking an experience of the divine through nature. Holy shit am I here � with rocks in my pocket and salt licking my skin!

I found myself jotting all of my favorite and most treasured sentences and ideas from my undergraduate studies in the margins of this book, next to relevant passages: things like, “the truth is in the tension�, “always already�, and “the world is god’s body.� I know that books can be windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors; Enchanted is definitely the last two for me. I see myself reflected back at me AND I am transported. If May’s point was that we are all interconnected, I certainly need no convincing. My thoughts and feelings and desires are intimately intertwined with the author’s.

At one point, May encounters another person while visiting a new stone circle near her house. She writes, “I have lost track of how long I’ve been sitting on that central altar when I notice a movement at the far corner of the field, and I see a woman at the edge of the woods. She is trying not to watch me, but I can see that she is waiting her turn. Perhaps she is embarrassed as I am to be in need of a little time amid these new stones, their meaning not yet sanctified by the ages. I buckle on my sandals and nod to her as I pass, pretending that we are both walkers rather than pilgrims, pretending that we both don’t crave.� Katherine May, I’m not pretending. Call me. …Or, don’t. Phone calls make me anxious. 😅

I’ll end with a final quote. She notes, “I was open to magic, and I found some, although not the magic I was looking for. That’s what you find over and over again when you go looking: something else. An insight that surprises you. A connection you never would have made. A new perspective.� While I whole-heartedly agree, and while this works as a guiding principal to use as we walk through life, much of May’s work is *not* a new perspective for me. But it *IS* a connection. And I am grateful.