Kids think with their brains cracked wide open; becoming an adult, I've decided, is only a slow sewing shut. ― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper
Do you remember your first experience of disillusionment?
I recently heard the story of a five-year-old girl who became disillusioned at Disney World. She had been so excited to experience the magic of the world of Peter Pan, but while she and her father drifted over Neverland, she looked up and saw the gear mechanisms of the ride and suddenly felt nauseous. “It’s all fake,” she said to her father. Her dad encouraged her to look down and to use her imagination to breathe life into the pretend landscape below, but she was inconsolable. As soon as the ride was over, she demanded to be taken back to the hotel. She changed into her bathing suit and sat on the steps of the swimming pool, head in her hands, attempting to adjust to this cataclysmic collapse of her youthful meaning system.
From a modern, scientific perspective, this young girl was “getting closer to the truth” and letting go of “childish illusions.” After all, that’s what the word means, right? – losing our illusions. And illusions are bad, aren’t they? It’s better to live in the real world.
Here’s the question I’d like to explore: Is it possible to experience disillusionment and yet still be enchanted by the world? I define disillusionment as a breakdown in one or more of our meaning systems and enchantment as a deep sense of wonder and awe.
I so relate to the little girl at Disney World. For me, my trip down the street of life has been marked by a series of pauses in which I walk around the back side of the buildings on the street only to find two-by-fours holding up fake facades. This has happened with school, work and relationships.
These experiences of disillusionment have been painful. Why? If meaning is just a matter of intellectual understanding then we should be able to simply mentally realize we have made a mistaken conclusion, re-evaluate and correct our illusion and move on. However, every human meaning system worth having involves emotional investment and so disillusionment is actually experienced as emotional injury.
Shakespeare portrays two tragic approaches to this emotional wounding in Hamlet. Hamlet and Ophelia both grapple with deep disillusionment, but their approaches differ. Hamlet tries to intellectually wrestle with his disillusionment, obsessively analyzing and philosophizing about the betrayal and corruption around him. His philosophizing is impressive and poetic, but it leads to emotional suppression, isolation, and eventually a nihilistic resignation, “a slow sewing shut” of his meaning.
In contrast, Ophelia's approach is far more emotional—overwhelmed by the disintegration of her relationships and the weight of social expectations, she surrenders to her grief and despair, leading to madness and her tragic death.
So when we experience disillusionment, how might we navigate around intellectual nihilism and emotional collapse to find our way to re-enchantment?
Perhaps we could start by viewing disillusionment as a healthy and essential part of meaning making. This perspective is actually deeply rooted in our biology, as when our adolescent brains defrag by culling memories and pruning neural connections to create a more efficient and refined network of knowledge and understanding. We humans get very attached to our meanings and to certainty, but maybe meanings are meant to have seasons, including an autumn and winter, which then lead to rebirth. Maybe by clinging to the comfort and certainty of our meaning systems, we inhibit growth.
Instead of suppressing or intellectualizing emotions, it's important that we fully experience and process them. Just as we can’t rush seasons, we shouldn’t rush our emotional processing, allowing ourselves to grieve, feel anger, or sit with uncertainty helps in acknowledging the loss that comes with disillusionment.
Disillusionment can often lead to feelings of isolation, but re-enchantment is more likely to occur within the context of relationships. Engaging with others who share similar experiences or values can nurture a sense of belonging and help rebuild trust in the world. Conversations, shared experiences, and mutual support can rekindle a sense of purpose and meaning.
Engaging in creative practices—whether through art, writing, music, or other forms of expression—can be a powerful way to re-enchant our world. Creativity allows us to explore new perspectives, experiment with different narratives, and find beauty in the process of making something new from the fragments and wreckage of disillusionment.
Meaning Journaling Prompts:
What have been two to three of the most powerful experiences of disillusionment in my life?
Picking one of these, what was the core belief, the core meaning, that crumbled?
Were you able to find your way to re-enchantment after this experience? If so, what helped?