Through the Firefly Forest: E is for Enchantment...
Ever had the sense of being led...?
This letter is part of my Through the Firefly Forest: The Creative Journey series, where I look at the gifts and challenges of the creative life (one alphabet letter at a time). Start here, at A is for Apple Tree…
Magic becomes art when it has nothing to hide. Ben Okri
Dear You,
A year or so ago, I was trying to find the name for a character in a short story. She was, quite literally, an invisible woman and very isolated. I spent ages trying to find a name that reflected her situation, but nothing felt right. I decided to let it go and wait for inspiration.
Shortly afterwards, I was passing a charity shop and had a sudden urge to go inside. The moment I walked through the door I knew that I had to make a beeline for the book section. And when I reached the book section, I knew I had to go to a particular shelf. And on that shelf, one book caught my eye: Scottish Names. I picked it up and opened it at a random page, noticing the name ‘Jessica’ straight away. The meaning beside it? ‘Seen by God’.
It was perfect for my character. I knew straight away that she was Jessica — or more specifically, ‘Jessie’ — a person invisible to everyone but ‘seen’ by those who really knew her. What’s more, I realised there was a message for me in the experience too, one that told me I was also seen at a time when I didn’t really feel that way.
And yes, I suppose we could say it was all just a coincidence. But I knew before I even opened the book that I had an ‘appointment’ to be there at that time, it was as if I had been pulled towards the shop by some guiding hand.
I believe that this guiding hand is what we call ‘enchantment’. In other words, the gentle intelligence of the world revealing itself to you so that it can awaken, inspire, or even just delight.
People often equate enchantment with ‘wonder’ and yes, it’s definitely close to it. But I believe that enchantment has a twist of fate or destiny too, a sense of being led. So for instance, wonder is what you might feel when gazing up at the night sky to see a shooting star. But it is enchantment that leads you to be looking at the sky at that exact moment. And it is enchantment that whispers, ‘That star was just for you’. And it is enchantment that urges you to paint the scene afterwards.
In other words, wonder is something that we feel, but enchantment is something that we meet. It is an encounter with a particular place, scene, being, idea or work of art that feels like stepping outside of the ordinary into something that we might call the eternal.
For instance, you might read a poem written over 50 years ago and feel that the poet is at your shoulder narrating it, not bound by time or space. Or you might be filled with a sudden and fierce creative inspiration, such as a story or image arriving to tap-tap-tap at your consciousness like a bright yellow beak against a window.
Whichever form it takes, it is a feeling of being struck by something, of moving more fully into the present, of being part of some lovely quest or adventure. You look at the world and realise that it is looking right back at you and might even have your best interests at heart. Yet enchantment is not some big mystical revelation — it is lighter and more lively than that, more firefly than furnace. It is a dance.
Of course, anyone who travels deep enough into the Firefly Forest will realise this for themselves. For instance, you might pause to examine a spider’s web shimmering with dew and realise that the scene has a playful, painterly quality, that it seems to almost be greeting you. Or you will gaze up at the trees and sense that they are observing you just as much as you are observing them, silly as that idea might seem. Or you will make up a song to whistle and hear the wind repeating it back to you through the leaves and branches.
This is a turning point on your journey, because it is the moment that you realise you are no longer travelling alone. Instead, you sense a deep awareness embedded within the world, in each mossy stone and snowdrop. And you sense that creative ideas have their own existence outside of you, that they are the invisible longing to be brought into the visible, just like Jessie.
Most importantly of all, you realise that no matter how small and hopeless and alone you might feel in your creativity, you are completely and absolutely seen (and always have been). You are not some solitary traveller but part of a living, mystery-filled tapestry.
And while your encounters with enchantment might be fleeting (and can certainly never be chased or pinned down), they will change you. You will learn to see and feel more deeply, to witness the world as it truly is. You will learn to trust the unseen magic at the heart of it all, to follow it wherever it leads.
Love,
Deborah x
P.S. What does enchantment mean to you? Tell me below…
P.P.S. Currently escaping into the gorgeous dreamworld of The Unwinding by Jackie Morris.
P.P.P.S. Enjoying these letters? You can always treat me to a nice hot cup of tea.
I came across this book The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
by John Koenig. The comment box on this site is acting badly.
You lose focus in the comment box after typing each letter. Odd.