Pools of enchantment
It's been quite a while since the last edition of my newsletter. I was recently thinking about a couple of articles and was struck by the desire to share some thoughts. In the same way that Wordsworth said that poetry was the "spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility" I suppose that this newsletter my exercise of a spontaneous overflow of syntopical unification, recollected absent an opportunity for discussion. In that spirit, I hope it gives you something to consider.
In a recent edition of The Convivial Society, L.M. Sacasas wrote about the modern affliction of disenchantment, positing the idea contra disenchantment that
Enchantment is just the measure of the quality of our attention.
In other words, what if we experience the world as disenchanted because, in part, enchantment is an effect of a certain kind of attention we bring to bear on the world and we are now generally habituated against this requisite quality of attention?
Sacasas is astute, I think, in his assessment that enchantment is downstream of attention. The main question that comes from this essay is therefore: how can we foster this attention in such a way to re-enchant the world? I encourage you to read the full newsletter to get a sense of proposed solutions or practices, but I thought I'd add a little of my own flavor to the discussion, by unifying it with another idea: swimming pools.
Vox recently had an article extolling the benefits of public pools. It focuses on the physical and mental health benefits of a public pool, discussing social cohesion and connection of a common-use aquatic center. The idea I want to explore with connecting enchantment with swimming pools as tools for the embodiment of attention.
See, one interesting thing about pools is that, unlike other potential "third-places" in public life, they have remained relatively technology-free. Due, no doubt, to cell phones' aversion to being immersed in a pool of water, they tend to be left behind in bags, or in cars, or even at home, when visiting the public pool. Calls and texts go unanswered, social media forgotten (at least briefly), and even picture-taking eschewed in favor of embodied interaction. If phones are tools that allow us to project attention into a disembodied space, public pools, by virtue of their technological-neutralizing ability, are tools that pull us back into embodying physical space with attention. In short, I think public pools are tools of re-enchantment. They do this by both pulling us away from technology that may otherwise claim attention, but also by moving us to a place of unavoidable physical interaction.
Pools have a way of commanding attention few other places do. Being in the water is a constant sensory experience, one that requires us to attend not only to ourselves (stay afloat) but to others around us. While I wouldn't say that it's always the right kind of attention, it's practice for attention of a different kind.
Cellular phones, on the other hand, are not tools that I would associate for the embodiment of attention. In fact, I am concerned that recent technology has made technical devices waterproof enough for them to transgress into pools. I hope that pools can remain a technology-free (or at least technology-lite) zone for years to come.
Pools have just closed for the season around here, but next time you're at a pool, perhaps spend a moment attending to attention: how do you see the attention of others around you? What other places do you find attention like this? What kind of conversations lend themselves to a pool atmosphere, where parties are less likely to retreat to a digital space? And finally, other than pools, what kind of environments lend themselves to embodied attention? What makes them that way?
I've left unexplored in this discussion the usefulness of enchantment, its trajectory, and ultimate purpose. To steal a phrase: it benefits us little to be enchanted with mud pies when a holiday at the sea is being offered. So what about you? Do you see the value in enchantment, and if so, what is it?
Speaking of third-places, this article discussing Starbucks' move away from being a commercial third place was interesting. I haven't seen any local Starbucks do this kind of renovation, but then again, I can't say I'm a frequent visitor. I do frequent Chipotle, which I think has always leaned more towards trying to shuffle people away after eating — its cold, metal chairs and loud music making groups unlikely to tarry. It's unlikely to ever be a third place (though I don't think it strives to be one).
One thing we might be giving up by moving from embodied experiences to disembodied ones is our spatial knowledge. Particularly in the area of navigation and GPS devices, as a not-that-recent study suggests. I have been trying to reiterate to my kids (who sometimes protest when I deviate from a GPS suggested navigation route) that you can't always trust where computers tell you to drive.
Delilah and I have been enjoying the videos by Rajiv Surendra, who seems to be charming, grounded, and elevated all at once. His videos aren't flashy, but he endearingly articulates his own philosophy in a gentle and compelling way. I'd recommend starting with why you should use your nicest things, every day.
That's all for now! I can't promise a return to a periodic schedule, but I am always interested in hearing whether this gave you something interesting to think about, read, or enjoy.