"You and the land are one."

I like to withdraw from society by reading a book or simply daydreaming. I spend a lot of time thinking, or reading, complex stories to myself. It is a habit developed from the long, long hours of reading and daydreaming which dominated my childhood.

My interest in history evolved from this escape from modern life. However, I harbor absolutely no fantasies of a “merrie olde England.” On the other hand, I harbor absolutely no fantasies that we are better and smarter than people of the past. We have accumulated more knowledge, and technology has improved over time, which make for massive improvements in living standards and in health. Yet as a historian I am aware of the severe cost of modern alienation and disenchantment of the world. Upon observing these phenomena my personal reaction is to withdraw from society, but as an historian my reaction must be to understand and explain.

Both concepts, alienation and disenchantment, emerged from nineteenth-century thought. Which is remarkable coming from a century which got just about every other idea about history wrong. I’ll avoid a lecture here, but at least introduce the terms.

Alienation is essentially the loss of control over your work. If you make something on your own time, in your own way, then your work is a part of yourself. It is part of who you are. In the modern world you lack control over your schedule, you perform tasks as assigned, you are part of an efficient, hierarchical entity. You are alienated from your work. It is just something you do.

Disenchantment is the elimination of magic and nature from our lives. Magic (one could say awe and wonder instead) becomes replaced by efficiency and pragmatism and a purely materialistic view of the world. Nature simply becomes a resource, a place away from and disconnected from our lives.

So, speaking a little facetiously, making oneself a clay pot and then wandering off and hugging a tree has been replaced by efficiency, practicality, schedules, industry. This new world has produced great material wealth and great improvements in longevity and health. It is to be celebrated. Yet we need to understand and re-mediate the huge human and natural cost. How do we maintain our productive modern society, but reconnect with one another and with the world?

Here is where the depressing politics comes in. Every once in a while I try to post a political blog. I end up tearing the notes to shreds in disgust. Every election cycle the populace double down on failed economic ideologies and ramp up the fear and hate. There is a connection, the lower the economic opportunity the greater the social divisions. Essentially, the top 1% in the US now control 40% of the wealth, and their share is increasing. The top 20% now control about 90% of the wealth and their share is increasing. Social mobility is decreasing rapidly. Health care, education, infrastructure and other measures of quality of life and opportunity are declining fast. As a result hate against LGTB individuals, and against minorities is increasing. Women’s rights are steadily eroded. Underlying all of this are the soul sapping problems of alienation and disenchantment.

Thus, I retreat to daydreams, or books, or the study of medieval history. Yet my history really isn’t an evasion of the world. Instead, my research considers the medieval beginnings of the process of becoming who we are. I tell not a triumphant tale of becoming modern and better, nor of a yearning for a romantic past. I simply the study of the decisions we have made and their consequences. Through those decisions we have made gains and suffered losses. So perhaps with greater historical understanding we can make better decisions and reconsider values which can re-enchant the world, and remove alienation.

It’s spring migration. Hundreds of millions of birds are migrating thousands of miles north to their various breeding grounds. Most of these far flying birds are tiny, weighing less than an ounce. It’s magic, but we don’t notice it. Tomorrow morning (mornings are best) step outside and listen to the chirps and whistles and buzzes all through the trees. If you’re lucky you’ll catch glimpses of brown, or yellow, or red, or blue as these jewels dash about feeding, refueling. Having observed this, wish them Godspeed on their journey. Then look at the trees themselves: ancient, solid, slow, silent except for the rustling of leaves. Be sure to feel their earth-linked energy in contrast to the airiness of the birds. Then thank those wizened trees (perhaps with a hug?) for hosting such intrepid and beautiful wayfarers. Become enchanted again.

Namaste.