Think of environmental changes. Humans' short memories mean that whatever environmental state each of us grew up in is perceived of as normal. Get someone to jump through time, though - from the 1200s or from 6,000BCE to now and they'd be shocked and appalled by what we consider a normal environment in which to live. Where are the trees or grasslands, where are the streams and migratory paths? So the world's not "disenchanted," it's qualitatively different.
Yes, but it works both ways, right? We'd also be shocked and appalled by what they consider a normal environment in which to live! So what I'm trying to say is—by what metric is our time "better" or "worse?" By what metric is your internal forest "endangered?" Why do you think you need to replant it?
Let me give you an example from my own experience. Seven years ago—yeesh, was it only seven years ago? Feels like another lifetime—my wife and I bought a little house on some old and tortured farmland with the intent of reforesting the land. So we worked heroically over the course of a year or two and managed to plant more than a thousand trees, perhaps covering an acre or so. And in that same time, the land itself regrew maybe five acres of forest on it's own. The trees we planted we cute and all, but they had barely managed to grow at all in the few years we were there—but in that time, the fields turned to meadow all on their own, and animals of all kinds moved in. I don't remember any fireflies at all the first summer we were there, but a few years later, no thanks to us, there were fireflies everywhere, outshining the stars in the sky by far.
The reality was, even though we had all these plans, the land didn't need our help. It just needed people to leave it alone. The only reason the land wasn't healthy when we moved in is because the prior owners hayed the fields every year to get a few hundred bucks off their taxes.
I suspect—(more than expect, since I've experienced it :) )—the exact same principle holds for our internal forests. It's there! It'll grow on it's own, whether we push it to or not! We just need to let it—give it space to flourish. And trust that it will. And accept that it takes time. (I'm bad at those latter two...)
The idea that we are the actors, the ones who do things... I think it's part of the spell that entraps us. So to go back to your original question: what do we do about being plugged in and programmed and trapped in these machine-lined passageways? And I am reminded of Basho's way out:
sitting quietly, doing nothing Spring comes and the grass grows all by itself
no subject
Yes, but it works both ways, right? We'd also be shocked and appalled by what they consider a normal environment in which to live! So what I'm trying to say is—by what metric is our time "better" or "worse?" By what metric is your internal forest "endangered?" Why do you think you need to replant it?
Let me give you an example from my own experience. Seven years ago—yeesh, was it only seven years ago? Feels like another lifetime—my wife and I bought a little house on some old and tortured farmland with the intent of reforesting the land. So we worked heroically over the course of a year or two and managed to plant more than a thousand trees, perhaps covering an acre or so. And in that same time, the land itself regrew maybe five acres of forest on it's own. The trees we planted we cute and all, but they had barely managed to grow at all in the few years we were there—but in that time, the fields turned to meadow all on their own, and animals of all kinds moved in. I don't remember any fireflies at all the first summer we were there, but a few years later, no thanks to us, there were fireflies everywhere, outshining the stars in the sky by far.
The reality was, even though we had all these plans, the land didn't need our help. It just needed people to leave it alone. The only reason the land wasn't healthy when we moved in is because the prior owners hayed the fields every year to get a few hundred bucks off their taxes.
I suspect—(more than expect, since I've experienced it :) )—the exact same principle holds for our internal forests. It's there! It'll grow on it's own, whether we push it to or not! We just need to let it—give it space to flourish. And trust that it will. And accept that it takes time. (I'm bad at those latter two...)
The idea that we are the actors, the ones who do things... I think it's part of the spell that entraps us. So to go back to your original question: what do we do about being plugged in and programmed and trapped in these machine-lined passageways? And I am reminded of Basho's way out: