Reflections on the End of the World: a view from Pooh Corner

Christine Carmichael
3 min readSep 2, 2021

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Photo by Oxana Lyashenko on Unsplash

Paul Combs’ Sunday rants have become some of my favorite bits to read. He’s funny, IMHO, and we have similar musical tastes. Plus, any reference to R.E.M. will catch my attention, which is exactly what this story did a few days ago.

As I chuckled and shook my head at some of the outrageous bits of news Paul highlighted, I thought, “this guy needs a bit of enchantment.” So, breathe deeply, freshen your beverage, and let yourself be charmed, captivated, allured, fascinated, mesmerized, enthralled, bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.

In fairy tales, science fiction, and fantasy stories, the idea of being enchanted is almost always associated with a loss of control. Enchantment is something that happens outside of us and affects us through no fault of our own. And that’s what we assume, right? Sleeping Beauty’s 100-year snooze wasn’t her fault and neither was it Lucy’s fault that Edmund chased her through the house and into the Wardrobe.

I think, though, there’s more to it. We can be the cause of our own enchantment. Rather than succumbing to some external effect, (resulting in rants about things over which we have no control) we can allow ourselves to be enchanted.

The experience of enchantment — of being surprised, enthralled, or ensorcelled — challenges us. It causes us, especially when we are children, to see ourselves and the world in new ways. Can you recall the last time something, someone, some experience enchanted you? Maybe it was a story you couldn’t put down, the buzzing of cicadas, your grandchild’s first steps, or the first time you saw your partner sleeping. Perhaps it’s a particular fragrance, a piece of music, or flames flickering in a fireplace as you fell asleep with the Christmas lights on.

Enchanting fire pit including flames.
Enchanting fire pit — minus the Christmas lights (courtesy of author’s backyard)

Whatever, wherever, or whoever it was, caused you to feel something special. And then, one day we somehow all become Christopher Robins, standing next to Pooh Bear in the Hundred Acre Wood saying, “I’m not going to do Nothing anymore…they [adults] don’t let you.”

Dr. Matthew Del Novo, a philosopher at the Catholic Institute of Sydney, says enchantment is something the soul cannot do without. To be enchanted is to be human. We must “read and listen and gaze” upon those people and things we value; become attuned to what enchants us now. He also posits that enchantment is a philosophy of life. As adults, allowing ourselves to find and experience enchantment from moment to moment is a worthwhile pursuit — the work of enchantment — through art, literature, music, nature, the accoutrements of different cultures.

In spite of “understanding why animals eat their young,” permit yourself to be enchanted. Take that Born to Run album and practice being young Christopher Robin; hang out with Pooh and do Nothing (with a capital N). I promise, the End of the World as We Know It will be there when it’s time to do Something again.

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Christine Carmichael

Academic librarian passionate about sharing knowledge. Old enough to know better, young enough to say, “Why not?” @ccarmich52 for more.