Your Enchantment Has Something to Tell You
This writing exercise renewed my sense of purpose.
I recently attended a workshop at the Jacksonville Public Library facilitated by Elizabeth Gilbert, the #1 NY Times bestselling author of Eat Pray Love, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, and a whole slew of other amazing books.
During the workshop (which was incredible, by the way), Liz had us write letters to ourselves—from our fear, from unconditional love, from the principal’s office granting us permission to do the very thing we’re holding ourselves back from doing.
We read the letters out loud to each other.
We cried!
But my favorite part of the workshop was writing a letter to myself from my sense of enchantment.
Liz described enchantment as “uplifted wonder.” It’s that low vanilla pudding hum that makes daily life sparkle.
I am so glad that I had the opportunity to give my sense of enchantment a voice. Here is my enchantment’s letter to me.
Dearest Hurley Girly,
I am your enchantment. This is what I want to tell you.
I love our walks on the beach at the end of the day, especially when you put your AirPods in so it looks like you’re on the phone but you’re really just talking out loud to yourself because it’s the best way to think through new ideas, but the AirPods make you feel less self-conscious about talking to yourself in front of all the other people passing by.
I love when we get to see dogs, especially when their owners are tossing tennis balls with one of those long tennis ball chucker things.
Whenever a dog passes by, all wet and sandy from dipping in and out of the waves, I love it when you mutter to yourself, “That dog’s going to sleep well tonight.”
I love when we cook dinner, especially when you pick out recipes that only take 30 minutes to make because it means we get to my favorite part faster—eating dinner.
I love when you pour vegan cheese into the dutch oven over the Italian sausage and broccolini and orecchiette.
I love when you bring the steamy bowls of pasta to the coffee table, where we get to watch Jeopardy! or Antiques Roadshow or 60 Minutes or Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy on the couch under a very fuzzy blanket.
And speaking of blankets, let me tell you how impressed I am with the collection of fuzzy blankets you have amassed through the years.
I love when you spend a long time rubbing lotion into your tired hands before bed.
I love when you remember to set the coffee pot to delay brew before bed, especially when you sprinkle cinnamon into the coffee grounds.
I love when you leave your phone upstairs, especially when you leave it in a drawer.
Actually, pretty much any time we are not on your phone is a good time to me.
Can we please be away from your phone more often?
I love when we cuddle with Susan and rub her tummy and give her tiny little kisses on the snout (especially when her snout is ice cold).
And in my opinion, the best way to end the day is falling asleep while reading beside her.
I love when Alex comes up the stairs at five o’clock with a surprise beverage in hand—a glass of Sicilian wine, maybe, or a Paloma, or an October-y beer.
And the spontaneous happy hour is great and all, but the thing I love most about it is that it gets you off your computer faster. (Could you learn how to do that without a cue from someone else? I would appreciate that.)
I love when you decide to write someone a letter.
When you open the drawer by your desk where you keep your stationery, I love to look through all the cards with you and help you pick the exact right one.
I love helping you pick out a stamp.
I get the same feeling whenever you decide that you’re going to put a record on instead of playing music on your phone—like I said, anytime away from your phone is a great time indeed.
I love to peruse your stacks of records and find something you’d forgotten you’d purchased last time we were record shopping together in Asheville.
And I understand that this isn’t a very original thing for anyone’s sense of enchantment to say, but I love when you set the needle down on the record.
I love when you crank the volume.
I love when you dance with me.
I also love when we get to see ospreys by the water.
Let’s go to more places where we can see ospreys.
And now that I have your undivided attention, Hurley, I need to tell you something that’s been on my mind:
I do not understand why we don’t have karaoke parties more often.
I love karaoke parties!!!!!!
Oh my GOSH, can we please have a karaoke party every weekend?!
Love,
Your Enchantment
After we read our letters to one another, Liz pointed out that not one person’s sense of enchantment is asking them to spend more time on social media.
No one’s sense of enchantment is asking to be a billionaire.
“This is my purpose in life,” Liz said, holding up the enchantment letter she’d written in her turquoise notebook.
What is your enchantment telling you?
If you end up writing your enchantment letter and feel comfortable sharing, please leave it in the comments! I would love to read it.
Thanks for reading my newsletter! I’ll be back later this month with reading recommendations and more.
🎃 Hurley
It's nice to have someone else admit they talk to themselves 🤣 I've read that it's a sign of high intelligence 🤔 You're right it helps you mull over things.
I loved your article. Thanks for sharing your inner self.
I loved your letter, it was so rejuvenating! I’ve listened through Gilbert’s Magic Lessons podcast twice, it turns out it’s really uplifting and inspiring listening to struggling creatives get advice from “successful” or established ones.