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Read an Excerpt
ENCHANTMENT: A spell wrapped in a noun. Three syllables. One state of being.
To live with Enchantment is to see beyond the bricks and mortar that make up your home and into the magic infused within its frame. It is made up of stories and dried bay leaves and dreams whispered into the heads of dandelions. Of bare feet on carpeted floors and the smell of burning sage. Crystals – amethyst, citrine, amazonite, smoky quartz – winding in and around your books; all the better to magnify their magic. It is to peel back the layers of your day-to-day and search for that elusive energy that winds its way up your spine and outward into your life. Let the snake at your base wriggle free of its coil to climb up to your shoulder blades and across your open back. There is no room for tightly stacked discs here, just the taste of joy when the sun licks your skin.
You might find it at the bottom of an empty teacup. Your future written in soggy leaves or in the whisper of trees, their leaves rustling and murmuring secrets only they can understand. Sometimes they are kind enough to translate for you – if you listen long enough. If you shower their roots with distilled love songs and feed them the black earth from your compost. It's there, too, when you run your tongue along the grooves and ridges of a well-loved sentence. It's everywhere. Even in the spaces you think have lost hope, like the junk drawer where you keep your faded dreams, stray screws, and half-forgotten heartbreaks along with wine corks and a few rubber bands. They're not lost, just resting like seeds in the earth before they are ready to break open.
That is the first syllable.
The second is to learn from Enchantment, to listen to Coyote's call when he plays his tricks. Coyote loves his tricks. And you should too. What delicious messages wrapped in matted fur and a lolling tongue! All he wants is for you to take that leap of faith when only you can see the soft earth on the other side of the cliff. Don't you know that you have wings? They are just rusty from disuse. Just listen to Coyote's long-winded stories (he does so admire himself) and watch the flick of his tail. All he asks is for you to trust him, even if he can't be trusted; his lesson is real, hard as onyx in your palm, ephemeral as the desert rain that you feel in your bones when all you see is a cloudless sky. No weatherman can ever map the storms and sunshine working their way across your body.
Coyote has no room for logic, just the reason in his unreason.
Just those perfect coincidences set in motion by the padding of his paws. You are raw power, he says, a spark of the universe set in motion. And you must trust this power that is you, that is the earth, that is the beating of your heart. A rhythmic tattoo forever pounding out your path, however many times you try to stray from it. All Enchantment asks is that you absorb the wisdom of the moon and the stars, and the prophesying of the seeds burrowed deep in the dirt. Coyote is there to make sure you listen, even when the rest of the world prefers your ears stopped with cotton and your heart beating as slow as melting snow in winter.
And the third syllable? To conjure. Here you weave your spell with vowels and consonants and beeswax candles. You seal them with pure starlight and a handful of chamomile. Then you burn away the dry brush and the brittle ideas that don't hold up against the moonlight. There is no room here for literal ... things or the people who think them. Not if you want to create. Not if you want to believe that the most important part of your everyday occurs in the moments others can too easily overlook. (Seldom can you find a person strong enough to brave the stillness or wade into the bottomless waters of imagination.) You make your life here, in the infinite potential of seconds and minutes and hours unfurling into vines and roots. Because when you are looking for everyday enchantment, it finds you. Always. And if you let it, it will settle inside your skin and feed your soul with dreams grown ripe under the sun's caress. It drops you deep down into the rich earth and forgotten caves buried between heartbeats – places that many are too afraid to venture inside. For how can you absorb the marvelous, if you do not recognize it reflected in yourself, feel it settle in your bones like so much calcium?
A three-syllable spell wrapped in a noun, planted in the earth and nourished with moonlight. Let the roots stretch to the underworld and the leaves unfurl toward the heavens. Walk across the star-kissed bridge made of hollyhock seeds and strong will. There is your passage into the unseen universe.
On Double Yolks
The skillet is hot – hot as the bluegrass playing in the background, hot as the black lightning coffee in your cup. Today is a day for a bold breakfast. You shake off your usual weekday oatmeal in favor of eggs over easy, chorizo, and toast. A small-town desert diner breakfast made all the better coming from your kitchen. You could get drunk on the scent of burning cedar in the air, that fireplace smell more evidence than anything that summer has faded into fall, though the trees have not yet turned their green leaves to flames.
There is an air of abundance to your morning. A welcome feeling after the exhaustion that seems to have settled in your bones with the changing of the seasons and the week's intense demands on your time and energy. Sometimes you feel as if dusty souls want to suck away your light, or at the very least, pile their debris upon you, since to them you seem so weightless. They don't know the work it takes to keep the corners of your mind free from grime and your schedule clean of mindless busy.
But forget all that. Today is a day for a hearty breakfast and devotion to your craft. You will fill yourself up with words and coffee to assuage the thinness that has crept into your soul, as if you are an empty cupboard, save for a few crumbs. You crack an egg over the sizzling pan with these thoughts heavy in your head, despite your attempts to fill your mind with the sunshine that saturates your home.
And there it is: a fat, golden double yolk.
The orbs sit piled atop one another as if caught kissing. You marvel at how so much yolk could fit into such a little eggshell. The broken pieces in your hand hardly seem capable of cradling such gold. They appear too fragile and yet birthed more than others thought they could hold. You can't tell where one yolk ends and the other begins; you are mystified by this anomaly.
You watch your eggs cook, and a sly voice inside your head – the one who loves a good story, the one who can't resist the lure of superstition – coyly whispers that double yolks are good luck, harbingers of double the grace, the plenty, the fortune. These are the stories of old wives, crones, and witches that you are half-tempted to believe, if only because these fat yolks nestled together in front of you seem nothing short of magic themselves. Another part of you – the one descended from those old crones, healers, and potential witches – knows it would be foolish to ignore such a gift. And it is a gift. A reminder.
You flip your eggs and decide to let your fanciful imagination run away with you, feeling the tension loosen from your shoulders as you do so. Yes, you commit to the idea. Double yolks are good luck. All at once, you are grateful for this message. This little sign that you are not a bare cupboard after all, but a fully stocked larder – if it is ever appropriate to compare yourself to food storage. No matter.
You are abundance. You are luck. You are double the fortune. Hard week be damned.
It is the moment between thinking of moving in one direction – perhaps I will rekindle that relationship after all – and then being stopped by a red light at the crosswalk – don't go down that road. In truth, you know how it will end, although you can't help toying with the idea. It is the ladybug that lands on your porch as you turn your thoughts to a new piece of writing. Yes, it says. Yes.
You are grateful for that flash of insight helping you hone your creative path that has long since diverged from the mainstream. Grateful for your fluency in a language too few know how to speak. Your day is nothing without this never-ending conversation between yourself and the universe or the clap of thunder that punctuates your off-the-cuff revelations. You cannot speak your truth without lightning striking both in your blood and in your sky. It is terrifying consciousness. Pure insight. And sometimes it is just the song that blares from your car radio when you key the ignition – there's no going back, the lyrics roll out – just as you marvel at how your life is a series of forward moving steps, though it sometimes feels like more of a cha-cha.
The clock ticking in the middle of the night, its hands pushing you out of sleep with their hushed staccato, asks you what is worth your time, and sometimes, why you continue to waste it on unimportant things. You cannot hide in the darkness. It only serves to illuminate what matters. Like the clicking clock. A mechanical heartbeat sounding from a relic that you know doesn't work in the light of day. There are no plugs or batteries to operate it, and you have long since given up winding it. But in the moonlight it still ticks, as if charged by electric dreams.
It is everywhere and nowhere. A wisp of silk that guides you if you know how to unravel the spool. A collection of signs, like cards in a tarot deck, meant only for your eyes. Understood only by your gut. You allow this skill to blossom inside you, the ability to translate these letters from the universe that will only reach you if you leave your mailbox open. Ask your questions without censor or clear reason. Just be ready for answers.
Synchronicity is the roadrunner that greets you one morning as you head to your office. You pause to enjoy the beautiful morning, the way the mint green of the trees highlights the rich purple of the mountains, the turquoise sky a perfect backdrop. A thought flits through your brain – an old, worn thought that has outlived its welcome. It has muscled its way in nonetheless, no doubt from the backdoor you left open from overwork the day before. It is a thought from a past self, a small shadow of a doubt on an otherwise gorgeous day. A tiny little question mark that almost suffocates your latest pop of inspiration.
And then the roadrunner crosses your path. It darts past you from bush to rock to dry brush as you lock your car, confusing evil spirits by its X- shaped feet, leaving them unable to tell in which direction you are moving, casting away darkness and welcoming light. All is well, it says. Follow the inspiration and all is well. No darkness can find you while you cultivate the light. So you turn from that shadowy thought – it is irrelevant – and wrap your inspiration around you like a leather coat protecting you from the inconstant weather of your thoughts, too often tainted by what you absorb from others. These are not your feelings, you realize, not your burden, nor your path to untangle. You must go beyond the white noise and recognize yourself in the early morning hush and quick dance of this long-tailed bird. You thank the roadrunner for his visit. You thank the universe for sending this message. You thank yourself for listening.
Crocheting Infinite Blankets
Each stitch is a piece of woven intention. A slip of yarn looped around another to bind your thoughts into the blankets you create. Healing, nourishing, abundant thoughts. They are tapestries of a happy life you conjure every time you pick up your needle and yarn, a comforting hug you can wrap around yourself when the night is cold or the day long. They have no beginning or end. Just the soft ridges of braided cotton.
Your first was a monstrous purple affair, crocheted with only a series of what you now know are half-stitches. But you and your sisters were set on crocheting your own infinite blankets after watching the heroine in Like Water for Chocolate knit an endless blanket and ride off into the sunset with her creation blazing behind her. Yes, you needed blankets like that. You needed proof of your story. And so you rustled together old crochet hooks from your mother's abandoned stash and bought skeins of multicolored yarn and crocheted for years and years. But while the heroine of that story poured her grief into each loop and tied it off with despair, you created joy through each imperfect stitch. And you left plenty of room for your desires to bloom in between the loosely connected loops. It's never a good idea to hold on to anything too tightly, after all, nor map it too precisely.
Together, you crocheted hopes for love and adventure and deep living into the folds of your blankets. You used the yarn to cast out lines for the lives you yearned to grow into once you left home. With each stitch, you freed yourself from the burden of your ancestors' stories, and the narratives they felt you should live out – those hollow, empty things like graves or debilitating traditions. So much made with a self- taught half-stitch. Not even a real stitch at all, some said. That didn't stop you from making a whole story with it.
That was your blanket woven with sister love and the unburdened glee of youth. None of you even minded that your blankets were a mishmash of colors and textures as you learned how to loop a proper, even stitch. Tried, anyway. After two or three years of busily working on your infinite blanket, while watching old movies or over long conversations, you decided your masterpiece was finished. It sits folded at the foot of your bed now, twice the size of any normal blanket, and twice as full of history and love.
Your second infinite blanket came to you in graduate school. This was your one and only attempt at knitting. It was a wish made of mustard and cranberry yarn, warming stripes that reminded you of red chile and yellow butter melting on fresh-from-the-skillet tortillas. It would keep the darkness away while living in the land of the cold and the gray. Like your school experience, knitting was less forgiving of your mistakes as you fumbled your way through these more sophisticated stitches. There was no do-over like with crocheting. No re-knits to iron out the kinks. Your only option was to start over completely if you lost a stitch or to keep blazing forward, uninhibited by the lack of perfection.
You chose the latter. Looking back had always seemed like a waste, precision seriously overrated. No, you preferred these flaws and holes in your blanket. The better to let bad spirits escape, according to an old legend native to your beloved Southwest, learned from your mother and practiced each time you wound the wooden needles larger than your forearm around each other. Relearned again and again, when your pages came back dripping with micro-aggressions and cultural superiority. Four years down the road, this one was three times the length any proper blanket should be; you had a lot to work through. A lot to conjure. You could almost trail it along the perimeter of your apartment twice over if you wanted, but you'd much rather snuggle into the all-encompassing folds of that comfortably imperfect and utterly complete blanket. What mattered was that things got done. Perfect stitches are for people who don't want to move forward. So much safer to fuss and dawdle over one precious pattern than to allow yourself to create without censor.
You are working on a new one now, this one moving slower than the others. Almost five years in the making and still only a fraction complete. But you want to take your time with this one. A bright turquoise, crocheted in a series of shells. You will always favor the more forgiving stitch, as you have learned the power of generosity and gentleness. It is longer than the others, and it will be the strongest. The most infinite.
It is your New Mexico blanket; each stitch infused with your love of the desert, begun with the intention of weaving together a life you always imagined living. A teacher. A writer. A living story with roots firmly planted in the Land of Enchantment. Yes, this one is still in progress and may always be. There is no rush. You feel no pressure when you set it aside to craft yet another infinite blanket, this one a twin of yours, though it is not for you.
This next blanket is hot pink, a bold sister to your turquoise, and synonymous with your desert aesthetic. A fearless color bound together by those forgiving crocheted shells, so that your niece may live and love and be in the world boldly. This is her blanket. She will know that she is surrounded by warmth and affection conjured from years of her mother and aunts weaving the future together. This is a blanket for the new generation of women in your family. A new generation that, like you and your sisters did together so long ago, will learn the power of the infinite as a series of loops and pearls that spread out behind you in your journey toward the sun.
She will know the power of the infinite.
She will be infinite(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Everyday Enchantments"
Copyright © 2017 Maria DeBlassie.
Excerpted by permission of John Hunt Publishing Ltd..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Everyday Enchantment 1
On Double Yokes 4
On Synchronicity 6
Crocheting Infinite Blankets 8
Routine as Ritual 11
On Chamomile 14
On Long Walks 16
My Joy Is My Resistance 19
On Dreaming Deeply 21
Burning Old Man Gloom 23
On Belief 25
Descending into the Underworld 27
Life Is a Celebration 29
An Unexpected Afternoon Tea 31
On Hot Air Balloons 32
On Home 34
Cooking an Onion 36
To Be Still 38
Grocery Lists 40
A Conversation with Coyote 42
Early Morning Yoga 45
On Being an Amateur 47
On Being an Expert 49
Tasting the First Tomatoes from My Garden 50
A Love Letter to Summer Monsoons 52
On Wild Hair 53
Everyday Conjuring 55
A Love Letter to Pleasure 57
What Writing Looks Like 59
The Bookshelf 62
La Llorona 64
On Bravery 68
Grounding and Gardening 69
Letting Go of Past Lives 71
The Apple 74
On Gratitude 76
The Hunt for a New Read 77
On Hollyhocks 80
Why I Won't Wait on the Sidelines to Dance 82
Let Me Be 83
Dancing in the Rain 84
On Sunbathing 85
The Dandelion 87
On Red Chile Stew 89
Living Your Creed 91
I Used to Write on Napkins 92
On Autumn Sweaters 95
Playing with Herbs 97
The Story Eater 98
On Summer 99
Cruising to Work 101
Things that Make Me a New Mexican 102
Things that Make Me a Burqueña 103
On Mondays 105
Visiting the Herb Store 107
Watching the Robin Build Its Nest 109
A Trip to the Bookstore 111
Confessions of a Flower Eater 115
Under the Influence of M.P.K. Fisher 117
On Camel Pose 119
On January 120
I Live in Stories 121
Preparing a Dinner Party 122
Things You Do to Unwind 124
On Saturday Mornings 126
The Ritual of Tea 128
On Rainy Days, Miles Davis, and Whiskey 130
The Body Beautiful 132
Reading Late into the Night 133
On Sundays 135
Summer Solstice & the Strawberry Moon 136
The Daffodils on My Nightstand 137
On the Farmers' Market 138
The Breath 140
Wear Your Fashion like Frilly Armor 141
The Wind in My Hair 143
Reflections on a Snow Day 144
Kitchen-Sinking It 146
Returning Home after a Long Journey 147
Body Wisdom 149
Buying a Bouquet of Flowers 150
Drinking a Glass of Wine on My Patio 152
Kundalini Energy 154
Revisiting an Old Story 155
Writing at the Kitchen Table 157
Dreaming under the Supermoon 159
On Peaches 161
On Wings 163
Making Limoncello 165
Things I Want to Unlearn 168
Things I Want to Relearn 170
Celebrating Spring 172
On the Necessity of Good Coffee 174
No Is a Two-Letter Synonym for Yes 176
To the Everlasting Yes! 177
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Everyday Enchantments by Maria DeBlassie a four-star read that will leave you musing. This wasn’t what I was expecting when I picked it up, it’s a collection of writings, some better than others, but I am sure you ill find some that will call to you in them. There are musings on many subjects in this and you will be sure to find some that will appeal.
Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic & Daily Conjurings by Maria DeBlassie is a delightful little read, of short essays. Everyday Enchantments, isn’t exactly a self-help book, but more collection of personal essays from Maria DeBlassie, to demonstrate to readers the everyday experiences we have with magic, without noticing them. This book is very good for helping readers be more mindful, and more aware of the world around you, rather than stuck in your own head. I found it personally help me practice meditation and mindfulness, whilst being outdoors and active. It helped me gain a new appreciation for the smaller things in life and how truly beautiful this world can be, when we aren’t taking it for granted. Though this type of book isn’t something I usually reach for, it was definitely a refreshing and charming read. 4/5 stars.
This is a light and breezy book about the small joys of life, from gardens to books to sweaters to tea time. Even if one doesn’t share the same passions, DeBlassie writes with such verve that dear reader feels the warm fuzzies. If all is not going well, a chapter from this lovely book could help reframe the day. I was fortunate to receive a digital copy from the publisher through NetGalley of this book that reminds us that the small things matter, and that we choose how we view our world.
Everyday Enchantments by Maria F. DeBlassie Book Review by Dawn Thomas 200 Pages Publisher: John Hunt Publishing Ltd / Moon Books Release Date: October 26, 2018 Religion, Spirituality, Meditation, Self-Help, Personal Transformation This is a lovely book of almost a hundred short stories. Each one has its own theme but the message is still the same. She reminds us to be mindful and find joy in anything you do. I love how readers are immersed into the stories as if we are experiencing it ourselves. In one story, the author describes eating cherry tomatoes so vividly you feel the same sensations. The same is true in the sunbathing story. You can feel the sun moving along your body as you read her words. In the bookshelf story, I had to laugh at how many times she organized her books. I have done the same things to mine as many times. The author’s writing style flows so easily and is very descriptive. She write with such passion it is easy to fall into a story and lose yourself. If you enjoy reading books by Clarrisa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D, then you would appreciate the stories in this book.
Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic & Daily Conjurings by Maria DeBlassie 5 -Stars This novel is a short collection of essays that really make the reader see life in a different perspective. It helped me to see beauty in the average daily thing such as cutting an onion. I really found the authors work fascinating. I felt very relaxed and mellowed out while reading this book. It was great to really step back from life with this book.
Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic & Daily Conjurings by Maria F DeBlassie was a different interesting read, that was very soothing, and at times almost had me asleep.. in a good way. This isn't your normal style book. It's a collection of sorts, with no real direction. Just soothing emotions, calming situations and a insightful look into the world around us. It did take a bit to get use to the style of this journal like writing, but once I found my stride I was pulled into each new enchantment and let myself see the way the author does, and it was a bit of a wonder. A little weird, but a wonder. Having the room quiet, and reading such words, I was in such a relaxed stated that my eyes felt heavy. I'm sure if I had any light music or a warm blanket I would have dozed off. I know, falling asleep while reading. But I have to tell you, this was a good thing, because this book puts you in that state of mind. In saying that, if you need a good bedtime read, this book will get you to a place where your mind is calm and relaxed. I think this might be a re-read book, when my mind won't shut down, and for that I thank the author for putting such words on paper. With that said I give this book my high recommendation and my stamp of approval. Happy Reading -E.A. Walsh
Everyday Enchantments by Maria F. DeBlassie 4-stars Everyday Enchantments is a great inspirational read by Maria F. DeBlassie. It’s short and sweet and full of stories about life’s little treasures. It’s an incredibly detailed read, I was able to picture everything playing out in my mind as Maria describes everything from scents, emotions and even to the smallest of details, which made it highly entertaining. It’s books like these that I love reading as they open your eyes to everything we take for granted and allow us to remain present and living fully in the moment every single day. I fully enjoyed this read and would recommend it to anyone looking for some daily inspiration!
Upon finishing this book, I find myself to be seriously lacking in the whole "words" department, but I'm going to try to do this book justice nonetheless. Honestly, I feel like this author is a long lost friend of mine because so many of the musings and wanderings found here seemed like they came from my own mind. There's something so beautiful about having one's own thoughts and perceptions spoken or written by another. I guess the beauty lies in feeling found and known. I will admit, it took me a while to become accustomed to this second person narrative. However, now that I've finished, I really can't imagine this any other way. If you consider yourself an introspective person, often lost in your own thoughts, then this book is for you. If you can find magic and joy in the small, ordinary moments of life, then this book is for you. If you are simply looking to relish the beauty of this world around you, then this book is for you. I could go on, but I will leave it at this--I truly wish I had a physical copy of this book because it was so poetic and soul-soothing that I'd love to be able to pick up this book and peruse it when needed from time to time. All the love for this one, folks--go read it!
I give Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic & Daily Conjurings by Maria DeBlassie, 4 stars. This is a book that shows you many things. It is a collection of writings by an author who finds the happiness in the small things. She makes the everyday seem like magic. There are snippets in here of just about everything. From morning to evening, there is so much that we could be reflecting on, so much to be thankful for. The author shows you how to see things differently. This is something completely different than what I would normally read. This may fall under the category of self-help or spiritual. But the author is not telling you what to do or think. She is just reflecting on things in her life in a way so you understand. Mainly, this is a book to show you that you can see things in different way. Written in short snippets, it isn't something you have to necessarily sit down and read in one sitting. You could pick it up for a few minutes here and there and learn something new. If you want a new outlook on life and are interested in finding the magic and happiness in the small things, this book is for you.
Everyday Enchantments is exhilarating. A creatively personal self expression that is a self help book at the same time. There are few who will not have The Hair Day essay resonate to their very core (Mrs. N sure did). The author takes the daily mundane and crafts them into prose. This book simply screams to find JOY in your life. The simple things are profound. . . one just has to have the inner ability to understand that and appreciate them for more than what they seem to be. Those who feel a connection to the Universe and feel in communication with it, will love this book. A cozy read on a fall day, a comfortable read on a spring day. A book that awakens the soul. This is a book for all seasons. My Rating: 5 stars