Our eyes strain at the glow of screens, and our bodies ache from the grind. The sameness of one day emptying into the next. Isolated indoors from the weather and the seasons. By perfect 72 degree climate controlled air 365 days a year. With algorithmic curation to ensure we only ever see more of the same. Distracted by endless notifications from the feeling that we have lost something. The magic. Yet the world that was still exists. It is just not evenly distributed. Celtic lore speaks of "thin places". Places where the distance between Heaven and Earth is less, and it is easy to encounter the sacred. The mountains and forests of New England are such places. I only wish I knew how to make rootless cosmopolitans see half of the magic in rural America that Miyazaki made them see in rural Japan. People will move to the country for a slower pace of life. But never think about why it is slower. It is the inconvenience. There are more things to do, and those things take longer, but people are more present for it. This holds the key to reenchanting our days. By finding deep presence, connecting with the tangible and natural world around us, and using the power of personal and communal rituals.
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