Last week, I counted exactly 5,837 shreds of dried leaves. (Okay, I didn't actually count them, but any parent who's picked the dried bits of outdoor play off their kid's fuzzy winter wear knows this number feels right.) I was on the front porch with my daughter, both of us engaged in this decidedly unenchanting task of de-leafing her sweatpants before she tracked nature all over our furniture. Then something magical happened.
In a rare moment when the world went quiet – no cars passing, no planes overhead, no casual chatter between us – we heard it. An all-encompassing shrieking that sounded like every bird in Atlanta had decided to throw an absolute rager right above our heads. This post comes with audio from a nature center just a few miles away to give you an idea of what we were dealing with. Make sure to unmute.
When we heard this, without needing words to agree on what we would do next, we both sprang up to investigate, leaves forgotten. What we saw made us forget everything else: rivers of blackbirds streaming overhead, their dark bodies painting long streaks across the sky.
"Let's wait for the last one," my daughter suggested. After years of cheering her dad through marathon finish lines, we both have a soft spot for the steadfast few at the end of the race. We wanted to find them and call up, "You're doing great! Keep it up!" Five minutes later, we were still watching, mouths agape, as thousands of blackbirds continued their relentless flow across the sky. We weren't just watching birds – we were witnessing what felt like every blackbird on the planet in migration.
Awe. Disorientation. Curiosity.
This moment revealed three touchstones of enchantment – guideposts that might help us all notice when magic is trying to break through our daily routines:
First comes the "Whoa" – that moment when something grabs hold of your senses and draws you out of your routine. In his book about awe, Dacher Keltner describes it as "the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your current understanding of the world." It's the instant when your small self dissolves into something bigger.
Then arrives the "What in the world?" – that delicious disorientation when the familiar world tilts sideways. Sometimes this vertigo delights us; sometimes it unnerves us. But if you can stay with that uncertainty, get quiet within it, you'll find something familiar stirring deep inside – a wellspring of true being, creativity, and possibility.
Finally emerges the "Why?" – not the kind you Google (though I did that too, learning these birds were stopping over in Atlanta, fueling up on winter berries before their trek to northern Canada). That answer was clear and definite, but not satisfying. This why is more about what meaning it wants you to make from it. Why this? Why now? Why here? This is the why that pulls your body forward, that makes you follow the direction of the river of birds, that connects you to your daughter, to the land around you, to the abundance of trees lining your street. It's the why that deepens your care for and commitment to the ecosystem you're part of, because the whole damn mystery of it feels like a miracle.
I sometimes find this trifecta of awe, disorientation, and curiosity in meditation. I always find it in nature. I never find it in worry. Each quality serves as a skill we need right now – awe for our well-being, resilience for managing the disorientation of uncertainty, and deep curiosity to connect us and strengthen our awareness of what matters as we navigate the space between what's crumbling and what's yet to be born.
Like the tiny magnetic receptors guiding migratory birds across continents – what seems like magic but is simply the technology of their nature – we too have a capacity for enchantment built into our design, pointing us toward what matters most for our survival and fulfillment. Showing us a way forward where we don’t need to sacrifice one for the other. Trust in enchantment's functionality. Give it your attention and precious time.
What enchantment pulled at your senses recently?
Incredible!! From migrating birds to a lovely enchantment story!, How do you do it Tricia?? Keeping you in my daily prayers!
Only you! Mom