Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age

by Katherine May

Every single thing I must do—any hint of a demand—grinds against me. I resent it all. I want to be left, quietly, alone.

My own play has always been with words. Like many autistic children, I grew up thinking that this wasn’t the right kind of play—or that it wasn’t play at all in the eyes of the adults around me, who urged me to get outside, to pick up some dolls and make them fashionable, to run around a bit. I didn’t want to run around. I wanted to write.

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