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<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=195 BGCOLOR="#663366" TEXT="#080000" background="044c6172dkcfuy.gif"> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id15_m.htm#maelstrom" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Previous Stories"><U><B>July 2001</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id15_m.htm#nov_" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Previous Stories"><U><B>November/Dec 2000</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id15_m.htm#sept_" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Previous Stories"><U><B>September/Oct 2000</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#CC99CC" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#663366" FACE="Arial" >Wisdom Tales</FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#663399" FACE="Times New Roman" >    </FONT> |    <B> </B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#6633CC" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wisdom Tales"><U><B>home</B></U></A></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id2.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Story of the month "><U>Story of the month </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id3.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="TellMeAnuda "><U>TellMeAnuda </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id4.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Holiday Tips"><U>Holiday Tips</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id6.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Bibliography"><U>Bibliography</U></A>   |   <B>Previous Stories</B>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Stories for Peace 9/11"><U>Stories for Peace & 9/11</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Links"><U>Links</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id16.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Articles"><U>Articles</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Storytelling and Healing"><U>Storytelling and Healing</U></A></div> <div> <IMG SRC="04af0030.gif" border=0 width="496" height="3" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> Previous Stories</div> <div> July 2002</div> <bR> <div> Truth in a Peach Seed - A story told in Korea, Japan and China, and in the Jewish tradition</div> <bR> <div>     Once upon a time in a city, maybe near and maybe far from here, there lived a thief named Han.  He had been raised on the streets as an orphan, and there he had learned from the best of the thieves to how steal a loaf of bread, or a piece of fruit for his meal. Han learned to be clever too, living by his wits, and had never been caught. Then one day he had fallen in love. The young woman loved him too, but required that he reform his ways, and live an honest life. Han was glad to do this, but there was first the problem of a wedding ring. He would steal a ring for his beloved, and then start a new life. Unfortunately Han's desire for the perfect ring, had shrouded his keen instinct for danger, and he was caught. Han was thrown into jail, where he would likely spend out his whole life.</div> <div>     Day after day he sat in the jail cell thinking and thinking of how to escape.  The walls were strong, and the jailer's never left their posts. They didn't even open his cell, but passed food in to him. Though his mind kept churning for answers, his hope was growing dim. </div> <div>     Then one day as he mulled over his simple lunch, and idea came to him. The prisoners had been given the customary meal of rice, a very small portion of fish and a piece of fruit. Today it was a peach. The peach was delicious, and reminded him of the beautiful peach trees blossoming outside of the city where the rich men lived. Then an idea came to him.  He carefully wrapped the peach pit in a piece of cloth and called the guard to him. </div> <div>      "Please tell the head jailer that I must see the Emperor. I have a very important present to give to him." The guard laughed. But each day Han kept at him until at last he was brought before the Emperor.</div> <div>      "Your highness," he said bowing very low. "I have brought a great present to you." Han handed the Emperor the piece of cloth. The man opened it and turned red with anger. "How dare you take my time and insult me with a peach pit?" Did you think you would escape somehow? You are a thief, and you belong in jail!"</div> <div>      "Your highness," Han went on, still bowed low. "This is no ordinary peach pit that I bring to you. I beg you listen, for this is a magic peach pit, given to me many years ago. When it is planted it will bear fruit of purest gold."</div> <div>       "If this is so, why did you not plant it yourself thief!" Scowled the Emperor. </div> <div>       "Ah your Highness, that is the catch." Han said humbly. "For the man who gave me this seed told me that it would only yield golden fruit for an honest person who has never stolen or cheated. For those who have, it will give only regular peaches. So as you can see it would be wasted on me, and I have been waiting to find the perfect person to give it to.  These many days spent in prison have given me time to realize that you are that person." </div> <div>      Instead of glowing with excitement the Emperor grew redder than ever. While more honest than most men in high places, he could not help remembering how in his younger days he had once lied, and cheated another men out of his chance for a high ranking position, while he himself had risen in power. "No, no I couldn't accept it, " He murmured into his beard. "There may have been something in my youth that I no longer remember. I believe it should go to my Prime Minister." </div> <div>      All eyes turned to the Prime Minister who quickly loosened his collar button. "Oh no, I am afraid that I am not the right person either," He stammered knowing full well that he regularly accepted bribes from people who wished him to influence the Emperor in their favor.  "I suggest the Commander of the Army."</div> <div>       Then it was the Commander's turn to blush, and stammer and mumble, for he had even had a man killed once in order to secure his place in the government. He demurred to the governor, who also could not accept the magic seed, as he had grown immensely wealthy on the hard labor of peasants who remained terribly poor.</div> <div>       This went on and on down the line of noble officials who had audience to the Emperor. Finally there was no one left in the room to take the magic seed, as each had used their position of power to cheat, or steal. The room was silent. </div> <div>       Slowly the Emperor began to smile. "You are a clever man Han. You have showed us that your crime has cost you dearly, while for our own we go free. I think you have served enough time in prison. Return to your life as an honest man, and please let none of us steal, or cheat again. </div> <div>       And it was so that Han put the peach pit into his pocket, and left a free man. Free to choose to change his own life for the better. He kept the peach pit in his pocket all of his life, and passed it on to his children. It helped him to remember that honesty yields gold when all is said and done, and that gold is freedom.</div> <bR> <div> Sources: </div> <div> Best Loved Folktales From Around the World by Joanna Cole, (N.Y. Doubleday) pgs 555-557.</div> <div> Tales the People Tell in China by Robert Wyndham, (New York: Julian Messner Pub. l971)  pg. 20-24. </div> <div> I am still hunting down the Japanese collection by Ushida that I originally found this story in. Will update.</div> <bR> <div> Gail Rosen suggested a Jewish version. Source:Barbara Diamond Goldin's "A Child's Book of Midrash: 52 Jewish Stories from the Sages." She calls it "The Clever Thief." The thief has a pomegranate seed that can grow and bear fruit overnight if it is planted by a person who has never </div> <div> stolen anything. The author cites the Exempla of the Rabbis #433, p. 169 as her source.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Thoughts</div> <bR> <div>      One look at the headlines and you will know why I chose this story for my current feature. I am thinking of sending a peach pit and a copy of this story to those at the top of our government, and asking them if they could grow golden peaches. </div> <div>       How can we trust those who have made their fortunes at the expense of others? What has happened that so many people feel that it is acceptable to give in to their greed with abandon? How can these people sleep at night knowing that so many hard working individuals and families have lost their retirement funds, their livelihood, so that they can buy an oil well, or a third vacation home? </div> <div>       No I don't talk this way to children in school or library settings. I do feel however that stories in their simple and straightforward form can help us to look at what is going on in the world with clear eyes. They can also remind us that greed and crime do not pay. But if greed and white collar crimes do pay in the real world, and are not punished, then at least our stories remind us of the irony of this.</div> <bR> <div>       Looking more deeply and personally at the story, it offers each of us a chance to think about our own actions on a daily basis. When do we act out of fear or greed, rather than for the greatest good? How often do we compare ourselves to others and forget our own transgressions?  When all is said and done, our children still learn by example, and thus from those closest to them. If greed and fear are less evident than generosity, and love, good will win out. Democracy works as long as the individuals in that democracy each live by a code of ethics. Once people no longer value such things as honesty and responsibility and generosity then laws must be imposed to force them. That is the end of a true democracy. </div> <bR> <div>       Imagine that you carry that magic peach pit around in your pocket. There are so many big and small opportunities for making honest choices everyday. Could you grow golden peaches today?</div> <div>       What do you think of the idea that honesty ultimately yields freedom?</div> <bR> <div> Using this story in a therapeutic group.</div> <bR> <div>     <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > I used this story to introduce the topic of honesty in a mixed group of people dealing with addiction and psyche issues on the inpatient unit where I work part-time.  After the story I asked them to think of an area in their lives where honesty was most difficult. </FONT></div> <div>      People quickly acknowledged that there was both honesty to themselves and honesty to others. These were some of the areas of discussion:</div> <div> They spoke about the dangers of being too honest. </div> <div> People said that they had to be careful of whom they told what to avoid feeling too vulnerable. </div> <div> Other people spoke about how you could be too honest and hurt someone's feelings. </div> <div> Then some of the addicts spoke of the habit of lying to family members, hiding stashes of alcohol or drugs in the house, sneaking out. If they did not lie about such things it would be much more difficult to use them. Making a commitment to honesty to family members is one of the keys to maintaining sobriety and rebuilding the trust that is usually lost when someone becomes and addict. </div> <div> Several of the teens in the group spoke with anger of situations in which they felt they had been lied to by adults, parents and people in authority.</div> <div> It was harder for people to talk about being honest to oneself, but that was eventually where the meat of the conversation went. </div> <div> People spoke of wanting to pretend that experiences from their past had not happened, even though they were still feeling the implications of them. In this case the issues involved traumatic losses. </div> <div> People with addictions spoke of the difficulty of being honest with oneself when there are two voices speaking in one's head, one crying for relief through substance abuse and the other calling for abstinence. To which voice do you listen?  We spoke of the necessity of a dialogue between the two, and of fostering the "adult", or honest voice in oneself. We also spoke of the need to reach out to someone else who would be able to help us discern the addict's voice from the voice of reason. This is one of the primary uses of a sponsor in AA. </div> <bR> <div>     I ended the group by urging each participant to imagine that they carried around a peach pit, that helped them to remember to listen for truth in themselves and to help guide them in their interactions with others. If I were doing a group with arts materials I think would make some sort of replica of a peach pit, perhaps from clay, or draw a picture to take with us. Visual cues are very helpful for some people in remembering wisdom.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> The Secret Heart of the Tree - An adapted version of an African folk tale.  </div> <bR> <div>     It was a scorching hot day in the African bush. Rabbit had gone looking for food, but within a short time, she had but one thing on her mind; shade. In the distance she saw a large old mango tree, with its crown of leaves making a nice pool of shade around its base. Rabbit hopped to the edge of the mango tree, and being polite, she asked the tree's permission to enjoy its' shade. The tree spoke, “Of course, my friend.” </div> <div>     Rabbit plopped herself down in the shade and said, “Oh grandfather tree, thank you so much. Your shade is just what I needed.” This time the leaves of the great mango tree shivered as if with delight, and down from its branches dropped a huge, ripe mango. The rabbit thanked the tree profusely. Sometime later rabbit felt an itch in her back, right in that place that is so hard to reach. “Dear grandfather tree,” she asked, “Would you mind if I used your bark to scratch my back? I have a most terrible itch.” Again the leaves of the seemed to smile as it answered, “Of course, dear one.” Again Rabbit thanked the tree.</div> <div>     The tree was still for some time, and then it spoke. “Rabbit you are the first creature to show me such respect and appreciation. I would like to show you something in return. I will show you my secret heart if you wish. I only ask that you not touch or take anything.” “Why of course, thank you,” answered rabbit, her tail quivering with anticipation. </div> <div>     Suddenly a crack appeared in the trunk of the tree. It grew and grew into two doors, which opened to rabbit. She stepped inside. Immediately she was standing in the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. It was filled with a radiant soft light. A stream ran through it, and its bed glittered with gold and silver gems and rings. On the trees grew magnificent fruits, and from the bushes jewels of every color sparkled. Rabbit wanted so much to touch the gems, and to eat the fruit, but she did not. Instead she sat down in the grass and drank in the beauty of the secret heart of the tree.  All was peaceful.</div> <div>      Finally the tree, spoke. “Friend, you have shown me that you can keep your word. Therefore I would like to give you a gift. Take any small gem you see.” Rabbit hopped about until she decided on a simple gold ring to wear on her tail. She thanked the tree and left, promising not to tell anyone what she had seen. </div> <div>     On her way home rabbit was ambushed by Hyena. Hyena saw the ring on Rabbit's tail, and threatened to kill rabbit if she did not tell him where it had come from. Rabbit afraid for her life, told Hyena how she had obtained the ring. The next day Hyena went to the tree and in his most polite manner, (which isn't very) asked to sit, ate the fruit, scratched, and was admitted to see the heart, provided he didn't touch anything. Hyena immediately set about eating the fruit and stuffing the gems into sacks that he had brought. The light began to fade inside the tree, and the doors began to close. Hyena unable to run with his heavy load, dropped everything and ran towards the doors.</div> <div>     Now the way the tale came down to me, it ends with the doors of the tree closing before Hyena could escape, and Hyena is never seen again. It was also said that the trees have never shown their secret hearts to anyone again, as a sacred trust had been broken.  In the French translation of this tale from which I believe it came, the hyena is expelled sans treasures. </div> <div>     I would ask you the reader to decide on how you feel the story should end. I might suggest that it have several endings, depending on who your audience was, and how you feel, and what discussions you are trying to generate. </div> <div>     My ten year old hated the first ending described above. There was not enough punishment for the Hyena. She wanted the doors to open a crack at the last second, and to have Hyena catapulted out and far away across the bush, perhaps into a thorn bush, never to bother anyone again. </div> <div>     Some adult audience members have shared that they prefer the latter ending. The first ending is disturbing to me in that the tree must endure the Hyena inside itself, in some form or other for a long time. But I also find this to be a fitting metaphor for what happens when our trust is broken and we are traumatized. Often we do retain such bitterness toward our abusers that it is as if a piece of them were still in our hearts, or bodies, holding us captive. </div> <div>      When I tell this story as a tale of earth stewardship, I might end it this way:</div> <div>  “ It is said that after that the trees never showed anyone their secret hearts, as a  trust had been broken. But the trees still do share many of their gifts with us, and their well being is still in our hands. It is a sacred trust, and one that our lives depend on.” </div> <bR> <bR> <div> I first read this story in <I>The Moral of the Story Folk tales for Character Development</I> by Bobby and Sherry Norfolk (Little Rock: August House, Inc. l999). The story version in that book was told to them by Allan Davies,  who heard it first from Sally Pomme Clayton of The Company of Storytellers. Pomme first heard the tale told by the well-known French storyteller Abi Patrix, who thinks he found it in a French collection of African folk tales, "Contes D'Afrique".  A fellow healingstory listserv member sent me a copy of the story in French which I would gladly share with anyone interested. The story was translated for me recently. It is similar but has some differences as mentioned above.</div> <div>       </div> <div>         Allan Davies can be reached at: www.story.freeserve.co.uk </div> <bR> <bR> <div>     Before you read my thoughts about the tale I hope you will stop to honor your own. What was your initial reaction to the story, and the ending that has come down to us today?  What ending would most satisfy you?  What is most important about this story? How do you feel after hearing it? </div> <div>     Take a moment to close your eyes and to picture the story in the sacred garden of your own imagination. How do you picture it? The story is deliberately underdeveloped here. What parts would you draw out or change? What parts do you love or hate?</div> <div>     Which character did you most identify with? We all have a bit of rabbit, hyena and tree within ourselves. Try telling the story from the perspective of each and see what new insights it affords. </div> <div>     What if you were the one with the secret heart in this story? What behaviors would make you wish to open up and share your innermost treasures? What do those treasures symbolize for you? What situations would or have made you close up, or not open up and share? What is at risk?     </div> <div>      These questions are difficult to grapple with because they are so close to the core of who we are. Trust, respect, and self-respect are so at the heart of our existence that we often do not even have awareness of how they influencing our behavior.    </div> <bR> <div> For more suggestions to make a deeper connection to the story, go back to my home page and read the "Suggestions for Making a Deeper Connection to the story."</div> <bR> <div>            I will offer some thoughts here on working with the story as a therapeutic tool. I will then offer some suggestions for the story as a  </div> <div>       springboard to an environmental focus. </div> <bR> <bR> <div>      I will speak here of the therapeutic aspects of this story as I see them, and will make some suggestions for using them in therapeutic groups. To me this is a story about trust and boundaries. We each hold a secret heart within ourselves. Our bodies are sacred, our minds, our hearts, our souls, our essences'. We need to protect them, and to simultaneously let them shine. We need to find relationships in which we can trust others to handle us with care, to only take what is freely offered, and to show us appreciation, and respect. </div> <div>     I wish that every teenager could hear this story and talk about what it means in terms of forming intimate relationships and sexuality. How does someone earn our trust? Do we expect to trust closest friends and lovers? What does it mean to trust someone else with our hearts, and bodies? Do we respect ourselves and demand that others do so? Do we give ourselves away too freely? If so what are the consequences? Relationships require such a delicate balance of trust building and risk taking. Old wounds often effect how we negotiate new relationships for many, many years if not lifetimes.</div> <div>     What does it mean to you to say you trust someone with your true self? How many people do you feel that way about in your life? Who do you trust with your inner most secrets and why? </div> <div>     In a therapeutic setting you should think carefully about whether you want people to tell the stories of trusts broken. These can be quite unsettling for them and triggering for others. You may wish to focus rather on techniques for building healthy boundaries, and assessing trust and respect in relationships. You can also focus on self-respect, helping people to assess their own levels of self-respect and knowing what healthy relationships are, and what unhealthy ones feel like. </div> <div>     The subject of the ongoing presence of the violator within our lives may also come up. You could ask the group to make suggestions for how to end the story so that the hyena is not an ongoing detrimental presence to the tree. Perhaps group members could help the tree to set some new guidelines for when and to whom it will show its secret heart. Staying within the metaphor of the story can help maintain safety, and allow for deep work without over stimulating unmanageable memories. </div> <div>      </div> <div>     From an environmental perspective this story offers such a lovely example of how to practice earth stewardship. Letting gratitude and respect be the first and last thought that informs our actions. Treating all aspects of nature as sacred, whether we can make sense of their place or not.</div> <div>     This story speaks of boundary violations. I often think that the earth is being raped, and violated, and that we are letting it happen. If more people saw it from this perspective, perhaps we would be less tolerant. Earth has much forgiveness and powers of rejuvenation in her, but only so much. Leaving Hyena trapped inside the tree is a tough image for one as literal as myself. But the tree, unlike most human beings, can probably just acknowledge hyena's useful form as compost and continue on in the great hum of life. What do you think?</div> <div>     How do we take a story like this and offer it to others to awaken the spirit of earth stewardship, and the necessity of honoring and respecting all of life as sacred? I think we just tell it with all of our hearts to whomever we can, where ever we can. I would suggest that when we tell it to kids, we do so outside near a tree, or go for a walk outside right after wards. Ask everyone to remain silent and to find a favorite tree to be with. Children could make a list of the gifts that trees give to us, and the ways that we can protect them. Stories like the <I>Great Kapok Tree</I>, by Lynn Cherry can be shared, to further reinforce the ways that trees are being destroyed, and the deep spiritual and environmental value of stopping and listening and thinking about their worth. </div> <div>   </div> <bR> <bR> <div> Sept-Nov. 2001 - Stories of Peace for 9/11.</div> <div> Links at the bottom of page. </div> <bR> <div>     I would like to share some stories that help me to face the many complicated feelings that I carry in the wake of this tragedy, and ongoing response.  I have listed stories that I have been sharing with people of all ages. We need stories now more than ever: Stories that let our imaginations soar with possibility. We need stories of courage that remind us that small acts of kindness and sacrifice, are as vital as big ones. We need stories that  remind us that we are not powerless, and that together we can make a life worth living on earth. We need to be reminded through story of our connection to one another across the planet. We need stories that remind us that to make peace, we must all live peacefully. As someone wise once said, `The way to peace, is peace.'</div> <div>      I do not have stories here that cover all of those bases. Please check out my book <I>Doorways to the Soul</I> (Pilgrim Press l998). I have also listed some excellent resources for other websites where peace and healing stories can be found. Do let me know if there are other resources that should be added to this list. I will be updating this site regularly.</div> <bR> <div> The Sun and the Wind</div> <div> An Aesop's Fable</div> <bR> <div>     One day the sun and the wind began an argument over which one was the strongest. Seeing a man walking on the road down on earth, the wind had an idea. “Let us have a contest,” it suggested. “The one who can most easily get that man's cloak off will be the strongest.”  </div> <div>      “Fine,” said the Sun, “You go first.”</div> <div>      So the sun went behind a cloud and the wind began to blow down upon the man. It blew harder and harder until the man was bent nearly double. But the harder the wind blew, the more tightly the man pulled his cloak around himself.  The wind could not get it off.</div> <div>     And so the sun came out and the wind hid. The sun shone down upon the man, and he straightened up. It shone a bit more brightly and the man sighed and loosened his grip. It shone more brightly still, and the man loosened the clasp. The sun continued to radiate warmth down upon the man until he laughed. “I don't need this anymore.” He said. Removing the cloak, he flung it over one shoulder, and went upon his way. </div> <bR> <div> What can our nation take from a tale like this? </div> <div> What as individuals can we learn from this story about how we interact with one another? How can we best radiate the beauty and love within us for others? </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> The Lost Ax - </div> <div>    One morning a farmer stepped outside of his door to begin his wood chopping. He reached for his ax on the hook where he always kept it, but it was not there. “Wife, did you take my ax?” He called. “No dear.” She answered.</div> <div>  “Why wasn't it there,” he wondered? “Did someone else take it?” </div> <div>    He looked over at his neighbors' yard. There was his neighbor. The farmer noted, that today the neighbor looked as if he has something to hide. “He is avoiding my eyes.” He thought. “He knows I am here, but he is not looking at me. Oh now he even turns his back”. He noted too that the man was moving about in a nervous, shifty manner. </div> <div>     The farmer went back into the house and told his wife. “That no good neighbor of ours has stolen my ax.”  “Maybe dear,” she cautioned, “but look around more before you accuse him.” </div> <div>      So the man walked around his yard, grumbling and turning often to watch the neighbor who clearly seemed to have something to hide. Then at the far edge of his property, by the tree that he had been cutting the day before, the farmer found his trusty ax, lying where he had left it when he had suddenly been called away.</div> <div>    The man looked over at his neighbor. He was still working in his yard, concentrating so hard on his task that he did not look up. The man was busy, he moved quickly and carefully. “What a good and hard worker my neighbor is,” Thought the man, lifting his ax to his shoulder.</div> <bR> <div>     Now as much as ever it is so important to avoid pre-judging others by appearances. This is a good one to tell to kids and teens who may be especially vulnerable to stereotyping. Our political leaders are making strong statements condemning acts of racial violence and revenge, but they are still happening all across our country. We are all subject to fear during this time and can benefit from retelling ourselves this story often. </div> <div>     The story can also apply to many other areas of our daily lives. How do we judge others? How do we decide whom to favor with respect and care and who to overlook? Notice on what basis you judge others as you go about your day? Let us practice suspension of judgment at this time and for the rest of time. </div> <bR> <bR> <div> Leave your Name on the Door - A tale from the Middle East </div> <bR> <div>      Once a philosopher, having made an appointment to dispute with Nasrudin, called at the appointed hour, and found him away from home. Nasrudin had forgotten their plan and was in the teahouse playing table games and telling stories with his friends.</div> <div>    After waiting from some time the philosopher grew angry. Picking up a piece of chalk, he wrote, “Stupid Oaf” on Nasrudin's door and left in a huff.</div> <div>    As soon as he got home and saw this, Nasrudin rushed to the philosopher's house.</div> <div>    “I had completely forgotten our appointment,” He said, “ I apologize for not having been home.  Of course I remembered the appointment as soon as I saw that you had left your name on my door.”</div> <bR> <div>    I would urge storytellers and others to tell stories from the Middle East at this time to help remind young and old listeners alike of the common bonds that we share. The Sufi tradition which grew out of the Muslim tradition is so full of beauty and wisdom. These stories really help us to live well and wisely. </div> <div>    We are being given an opportunity today to reevaluate as a nation, as a world and individually how we are seen. What name do we leave on the door if we take innocent lives in Afghanistan or other parts of the world? What name do we leave when we break treaties, and make decisions based on the welfare of our major corporations, rather than the welfare of all? Why don't we wish above all else to be seen as peacemakers, lovers of all, champions of the poor. </div> <div>     Are we acting peacefully in our daily lives? It does matter that we act peacefully with each step, and each human interaction. Everyone is sacred. We are all one. What messages do we as individuals give when we are short with the person behind the counter in the coffee shop, or the woman in line in front of us who realized that she forgot toilet paper at the last minute. </div> <div>     Look today for the names you leave on the door of each person's soul. How gentle, and caring, and respectful were you? Did you judge some to be more deserving than others? Did you give the best of yourself?</div> <bR> <div> A Story for Grieving </div> <bR> <div> The Cow-Tail Switch - A folktale from Liberia</div> <div> Collected by Harold Courlander and George Herzog </div> <bR> <div>     Once upon a time in a small village in West Africa, there lived a hunter with his wife and seven sons. One day the hunter went into the forest alone to hunt and did not return at nightfall. His family wondered why he did not come back. They talked about it for some days, but after a while when he didn't come back, they stopped talking about it. </div> <div>     Then one day his wife gave birth to another son. As he grew older he began to talk, and when he could talk, the first thing he said was, “Where is my father?” “Good question”, the others replied. “He should have come back a long time ago.” Another son said, “Something must have happened to him. We should go looking.” “But where will we find him?” Asked another son.</div> <div>    “I saw him go.”  One son said. “If you follow me, I can show you the trail he took.”</div> <div> And so the sons followed the trail. Finally, in a clearing, they found the bones and rusted weapons of their father. He had obviously been killed by some great beast. </div> <div>     Another son stepped forward. “I can put his bones together.” And he did.</div> <div> Another son said, “I know how to cover the skeleton with muscle and flesh.” And he did.</div> <div> Then another son said, “ I can put blood in his body.” Another said, “I can put breath into his body.” With this the hunter began to breath. Then another son said, “I can help him to move, and he did and the hunter got up and stretched his bones.” Then another son said, “I can give him the power of speech.” With this the hunter said, “Let us go home.”</div> <div>     They went home and the hunter's wife gave him a great feast inviting everyone in the village. In celebration of his return, the hunter made a switch from the tail of a cow and decorated it with cowery shells. Everyone wanted it. </div> <div>     After the feast, the hunter called for silence. “I would like to give this beautiful cow-tail switch, to the one who is most responsible for bringing me back to life.” Immediately there was an uproar as each brother had an opinion. </div> <div>     “It is surely me,” said the son who showed his brothers the path that helped them to find their father.</div> <div>      “But without me he wouldn't have come back to life”, said the one who laid out the bones. “Breath is more important than bones,” said another son. “What is life without movement?” Said another. On and on they went. Finally the hunter called for silence. “I will give this cow-tail switch to my youngest son.” He said. “For he was the one who remembered me. It is said, that a person is not truly dead, until he is forgotten.” </div> <div>     </div> <div> Find this story in Harold Courlander's book by the same name. (New York: Henry Holt & Co. l947.) </div> <bR> <div> Internet Resources</div> <div> “Stories for Children in Crisis: Nourishing the Heart.”</div> <div> Together with a coalition of international storytellers, Laura Simms, as part</div> <div> of the Gaindeh Project, has gathered traditional tales from around the world,</div> <div> stories that may provide an internal place of peace for children. The stories</div> <div> are being printed in a booklet to be handed out to each families that has been personally touched by the tragedy, volunteers and all schools in NYC and N.J., children as a gift. If you can donate money to help in the distribution please do. These stories are now also posted on the Healing Stories Alliance website. </div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.healingstory.org/crisis/crisis.html" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.healingstory.org/crisis/crisi"><U><U>http://www.healingstory.org/crisis/crisis.html</U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >.</FONT></div> <div> This website also offers many other resources and ideas on therapeutic applications of storytelling. </div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.laurasimms.com/" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.laurasimms.com/"><U><U>http://www.laurasimms.com/</U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > - Link to Laura's new site.  Look for essays and stories.</FONT></div> <bR> <div> Storyteller Heather Forest has added a number of stories to her website that offer ways of thinking about how to be in this world to foster peace and heal from the tragedy.</div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.storyarts.org" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.storyarts.org"><U><U>www.storyarts.org</U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >. </FONT></div> <bR> <div> At <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="http://www.peaceculture.net/" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.peaceculture.net/"><U><U>http://www.peaceculture.net/</U></U></A></FONT> they can find a number of stories</div> <div> that can help. The stories are from the book "The Strange War" by</div> <div> Martin Auer, published by Beltz & Gelberg in Germany. Author and</div> <div> publishers have agreed to provide these texts on the Internet and to</div> <div> permit downloading free of charge.</div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="http://www.aaronshep.com/stories/" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.aaronshep.com/stories/"><U><U>www.aaronshep.com/stories/</U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >  Aaron Shepherd has a wonderful site rich with stories and recently added stories from the Middle East to help with the tragedy. </FONT></div> <div>    </div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.civprod.com/storylady/start.asp" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.civprod.com/storylady/start.a"><U><U>http://www.civprod.com/storylady/start.asp </U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >   Rose the Story Lady's site offers many stories for healing.</FONT></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div>  <A NAME="maelstrom"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A>Descent into the Maelstrom by Edgar Allen Poe, (shortened)</div> <bR> <div>    The fishing between the islands offshore of one particular spot on the Norwegian coastline was especially good, but of all the fishermen in the area, only two brothers ever dared to fish there. For twice every day between the islands and the shore, a horrendous whirlpool some half-mile in diameter would form and suck down every object or living thing that came within several miles of it. People called it, "The Great Maelstrom."</div> <div>    One day these two brothers, sure of perfect weather, set sail to the islands, enjoyed a marvelous catch, and then headed home well before the pool was to form.  Suddenly, however the winds changed, stranding them. Before they could row back to the islands a hurricane wind was upon them, tossing them wildly about and snapping their mainsail's mast. </div> <div>    The younger brother clung to a ring bolt at the front of the boat, and the elder brother grabbed an empty barrel that was lashed to the back.  They rode this way for some time. Suddenly, as they crested a wave, they saw that their tiny boat was heading straight toward the forming pool. In his terror the elder brother at the back lunged forward and forced the ring bolt from his brother's hand. This brother did not contest the other's fear but went to the back and held on to the water cask.</div> <div>    Finally the inevitable moment came and the tiny ship careened into the whirlpool. The younger brother closed his eyes, said a prayer, and waited for certain death. After a moment however, when death hadn't come, he opened his eyes to find that the boat had not fallen into the abyss, but  was hanging on the edge of the pool, riding around and around, going slowly down.</div> <div>    Looking up at the sides of the pool and knowing now that death was unavoidable, his fear all but left him. He began to notice with fascination that there were many other objects in the pool - trees, boats, furniture. He began to take interest in the differing speeds with which the objects fell and finally plunged into the swirl. As he watched, a stunning realization was forming in his mind: The lighter, cylindrical objects fell more slowly, while the heavier objects dropped more quickly into the abyss.</div> <div>    This realization set his heart to pounding and his mind to racing. He knew that their only hope of surviving was to lash themselves to the empty water cask and throw themselves out of the boat. He motioned to his brother and, using hand signals, explained his plan. But his brother dropped his head and gripped the ring ever harder, choosing the familiarity of his boat over the uncertainty of the waters. At last, resigning him to his fate, the younger brother cut free the water cask, lashed himself to it, and jumped into the cold black wall of the pool.</div> <div>    It was just as he had hoped. His barrel sank but little more while the small boat went steadily down and finally hurtled his poor brother to his death. Soon the pool began to change. The whirl began to slow and the bottom to rise up. It wasn't long before he found himself again on the surface of the water with the shores of his home in sight.</div> <div>    He was picked up early the next morning by fishermen from his own village. But the fishermen knew him not. For when he had left that morning, his hair had been as black as a raven's. When they hauled him in, it was as white as snow. </div> <div>    </div> <div> Source - <I>The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe</I>, (Garden City, N.J.: Doubleday & Co., Inc. l996). </div> <div> This story is in the public domain.  I suggest you read the full version. </div> <bR> <div>    Making personal connections to the story - The surviving brother in this story knew that he had to let go of his familiar boat and jump into the dark waters of the sea in order to save his own life. The other brother preferred to hold on to the safety of the known and thus went down with his ship. Once the surviving brother accepted his circumstances, he was able to be present in the pool and to make the observatons that saved him. The younger brother did survive, but he was permanently changed. Something was lost, and something was gained. </div> <div>    </div> <div>    Can you think of areas of your life where you are clinging to something familiar that no longer serves your best interest or allows you to grow? Examples of these might be: Unhealthy relationships,outdated ways of thinking, ideas of how your career, or other aspects of your life "should" be?  What insights can you gain by sitting with your current circumstances, accepting them as they are, and seeing them, not through the lens of how you wish they were, but the lens of how they are? What could you gain by letting go? What might you lose? </div> <bR> <div>  <A NAME="nov_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >The Cracked Pot - A folk tale from India</FONT></div> <bR> <div>    Once upon a time there was a man whose job it  was to bring water from the stream to his Master's house.  The man carried the water from the stream in two clay pots. He hung the pots on each end of a pole, which he carried across his shoulders, to and from the stream many times a day. </div> <div>    One of the clay pots was perfect in every way for its purpose. The other pot was exactly like the first one, but it had a crack in it and it leaked. When the water bearer reached his Master's house, the perfect pot was always full, and the cracked pot was always half full. </div> <div>    The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, and it boasted loudly.  It criticized the cracked pot for its failures, and reminded it that despite his efforts, the water bearer could only deliver half a pot of water due to his cracks. The poor cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfections, and was miserable that it could only accomplish half of what it had been made to do.</div> <div>    One day the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer. "I want to apologize to you.  Because of my cracked side I have only been able to deliver half of the water to your Master's home, and you don't get the full value from your efforts."</div> <div>    The water bearer smiled on the cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the Master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."</div> <div>    Indeed as they climbed the path from the river to the Master's mansion the cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful flowers along one side of the path, and it felt somewhat brighter.  But when they had reached their destination and the meager contents of his pot were poured out, his sadness returned.  "Thank you for trying to cheer me up with the beautiful flowers, water bearer," The pot spoke. " But I still must apologize for my failure."</div> <div>   The water bearer said, "Dear pot, you have not understood what I was trying to show you. Did you notice that the flowers only grew on your side of the path? That is because of your crack. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and everyday as we walked from the stream the water that leaks from your pot has watered them.  I could have gotten a new pot, but I have preferred to gather the flowers, and with them to bless many tables."</div> <bR> <div> Source: This story was first introduced to me on Story tell listserve by a fellow storyteller named Rocci Hildrum. She had heard the story through the oral tradition and could not name a written source. If you know of one I hope you will pass it on to me. </div> <bR> <div>    How joyous to be able to value who we are, as we are. How liberating to see that it is often the "cracks" in our beings, that draw us closer to the source of love, and help or force us to manifest that love in the world. What we have to offer the world is our own personal story; who we are, as we are, and what we have experienced, and given back. This is the best gift a person can give. When we strive to be like others, to be measured by their stories, we lament our uniqueness, and focus on our "flaws". We do not see or experience the beauty in our own existence. Our lives can be wasted in judgment and comparison, and shame.</div> <div>    Dr. Carl Jung suggested something to the effect that, it is not how we overcome our life challenges that is in the end important, but how we live with them.</div> <div>    I love that the water bearer loves the cracked pot, and values it, as it is, and how that manifests. He uses it to the advantage of beauty. Can we be the water bearers for ourselves? For one another?</div> <div>   All of us feel like cracked pots at some time in our lives. Perhaps we suffer from depression, or have a physical challenge that limits our activity. Maybe we have wounds from childhood that keep stabbing into our adult lives and thwarting our intentions. Maybe we have suffered losses, or are unable to work full time as we think we should. Maybe we have not lived up to our parents' expectations. For each of us, we know what circumstances cause us to feel "cracked". </div> <div>  </div> <div>    This writer suggests that you take the longer look at your life, and honor the light that has come to you as a result of those things that you or others judge as flaws. Thinking of times when you have been brought closer to grace and the sacred as a result of your losses, and "cracks", can bring a deep sense of peace and gratitude. </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div>  </div> <div> November/December story</div> <bR> <div>  Once a samurai came to the master Hakuin and asked, "Master, tell me, is there really such a think as paradise or hell?"</div> <div>    The Master was quiet for quite some time while gazing at the man. "Who are you? He asked at last.</div> <div>    "I am a samurai swordsman, and a member of the emperor's personal guard." </div> <div>     "You a samurai?" Hakuin said doubtfully. "You look more like a beggar!"</div> <div>    "What?" the samurai stammered, growing red in the face and reaching for his sword.</div> <div>    "Oho!" said Hakuin. "So you have a sword, do you!  I'll bet it's much too dull to cut off my little finger!"</div> <div>   The samurai could no longer contain himself.  He drew his sword and readied to strike the master.</div> <div>    Hakuin responded quickly, "That is hell!"</div> <div>    The samurai, understanding the truth in the master's words and the risk he had taken, sheathed his sword and bowed. </div> <div>    "Now," said the master, "That is paradise."</div> <bR> <div> Sources: </div> <div> <I>Zen Flesh, Zen Bones: A Collection of Zen and Pre-Zen Writings</I>, by Paul Reps (Rutland, Vt.: Charles Tuttle Co., l957).</div> <div> <I>Zen Buddhism</I> (Mt. Vernon, N.Y.: Peter Pauper Press, l959).</div> <div> <I>Spinning Tales, Weaving Hope</I>, edited by Ed Brody, et al. (Philadelphia: New Society Publishers, l992).</div> <div> <I>Doorways to the Soul: Fifty-two Wisdom Tales from around the World</I>, edited by Elisa Pearmain (Cleveland:Pilgrim Press l998).</div> <bR> <div> See related story at end of commentary.</div> <bR> <div> Suggestions:</div> <div>    Read over the article "Feeding the Spirit: How Wisdom Tales Become our Teachers", on the Home Page, or go straight to <A HREF="index_suggestions_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wisdom Tales"><U>Suggestions </U></A>.</div> <bR> <div>    What meaning does this story have for you? Why do you think the samurai asked the question he did? </div> <div>    We each need to chew on a story for ourselves, to be truly nourished by it. That takes time. A story must live inside us, and must play upon our imagination's screen to fully reveal its message for us. </div> <div>   I formed a deeper personal connection to this story by developing it for telling over a period of time. (I have written above the brief form of the story as it usually appears in Zen collections.)  What worked best for me was to tell it as if I were the samurai. Only then could I recognize why in my mind he would have needed answers to that question. I imagine that the samurai went to the master to ask this question because he recognized deep down that all of his strength and youth and physical power was transitory. Perhaps he wished that there were something more. Perhaps he felt that these things were all he had, all that he was worth. When the master Hakuin questioned his honor, and degraded his status, his ego was ready to defend, to strike even a master.  That fear, and its brother, anger, got the better of him. He was ruled by it, controlled by it. That is hell. Recognizing that he had reacted from this place of anger and fear, the samurai could bow to the man who had risked his life to teach a lesson. In that bowing was a wonderful liberation, he did not loose anything but gained a greater appreciation for the depth of his being, and his connection to others. He also gained the ability to respond rather than to react to situations. This is a key step in getting to know ourselves so that we may be free to live from our highest selves in the world.</div> <div>    I also deepened my connection to the story by imagining that it was I who went before the Master. What would I bring to that experience? How did I define and justify myself, and what could he have said to me to really get me angry? I am not suggesting that we put ourselves up for abuse, hardly. We must care for our selves as well as we would our children. But I wanted to be reminded of the types of situations that draw me into living hell. For me it comes when I compare myself to others, whether it be to others in my field, or  to those around me who have more material wealth, or physical beauty. </div> <div>    Then I began to practice mentally bowing each time a feeling of fear, or envy would arise: Mentally bowing to my soul's highest purpose and fullness.; Mentally bowing to the mystery of my life that I cannot comprehend. If I as the samurai can keep the beauty of my highest purpose clearly in mind, I need not be injured by any insult or rejection, or stone in my path. I can bow with trust and go on.  It is helpful for me to remember the samurai when such feelings of inadequacy, fear or comparison, or difficult confrontations with others arise, and to bow.</div> <bR> <div>    What situations in your life make your ego rise up in indignation?  When do you find yourself comparing yourself to others and coming up </div> <div>    short?  When have you felt angry with yourself, or gotten angry at others? Have you ever wanted to strike back, whether actually or metaphorically? </div> <div>    When have you been able to bow to situations that might have previously threatened your ego? Imagine having enough faith in yourself that you could always bow.</div> <bR> <div>   <A HREF="id2.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Story of the month "><U>Related story</U></A> There is a story said to have occurred during the time of civil war in Korea, a general led his troops through province after province, overrunning whatever stood in his path. The people of one town, knowing that he was coming and having heard of his cruelty, all fled into the mountains. The general arrived with his troops and sent them out to search the empty town. Some of the soldiers came back and reported that only one person remained, a Zen priest. The general strode over to the temple, walked in pulled out his sword, and said, "Don't you know who I am ? I am the one who can run through you without batting an eye."</div> <div>   The Zen priest looked back at him calmly and responded, "And I, sir, am one who can be run through without batting an eye." The general hearing this bowed, and left.</div> <bR> <div> Source:</div> <div> <I>Seeking the Heart of Wisdom</I>, by J. Goldstein, adn Jack Kornfield (Boston: Shambhala Productions, l987).</div> <bR> <div>    <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >As you go about your days, be aware of when your ego rules versus when your heart or higher self rules. See how often you can invoke paradise and avoid hell. Bowing physically, or at least in your imagination will solidify the image for you.</FONT></div> <bR> <div>  <A NAME="sept_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A>(Bimonthly)  Sept./Oct. 2000</div> <bR> <div>    <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >Every other month I will feature a short wisdom tale. It may be a story from a specific spiritual or cultural tradition, or it may be a literary tale for which I was able to get copyright permission. It may or may not be included in my book. I will include source information at the end of each story.</FONT></div> <div>    Following the story I will offer some suggestions for ways of looking at the story.  I may offer a personal or biographical story to aide readers in making connections to their own lives.</div> <div>    I hope that you will write me with responses to the stories and the follow-up suggestions.  I would love to hear your personal stories and any suggestions that you may have for other wisdom tales that speak to the themes in this months story.  I will print your related story suggestions and ideas in the "Reader Suggestions" section.</div> <div>    Please share these stories with others. That is the best way to get them under your skin, and to make personal meaning from them.</div> <bR> <div> Story of the Month - "The Wisdom of Allah"  (Middle East)</div> <bR> <div>   <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > Nasrudin the Hodja (teacher) had been working in his garden all morning.  It was a particularly hot day, and so after a time he decided to rest under the shade of a great walnut tree that grew at the side of his garden.  Making sure that no one was about, he removed his turban, to cool his bald head.  As he relaxed he looked about his garden, and pondered the beauty of nature and the greatness of Allah. "Allah," he spoke out loud,  "Your creations are a wonder indeed. Look at the splendor, the colors, the variety you have provided for us."</FONT></div> <div>    Observing a fine pumpkin in the garden he smiled to himself. "Allah, your ways are great indeed," he mused. Then his smile changed to a frown. "But there are a few things that I would have done differently were I in charge.  See that proud pumpkin growing on a spindly little vine, and then consider the walnut, a tiny inconsequential nut upon this great lordly tree.  If I had been planning things, I would have hung the pumpkins from the walnut tree, and let the little walnuts cling to the spindly vine upon the ground."  Feeling proud of his ideas, Nasrudin closed his eyes and began a pleasant fantasy of all the things that he would do differently if he were in charge. A gentle breeze cooled his skin and stirred the branches above him.</div> <div>    From deep in his reverie he heard a rustling in the leaves.  Quite suddenly a walnut fell from the tree and landed on his bald head with a substantial thud. As the pain spread he rubbed the lump that was swelling on his scalp. Then an understanding smile spread across his face. He bowed down toward Mecca.</div> <div>     "Oh Allah," he murmured,  "Forgive me. It is good that you are managing things. For if I had been in charge, I should just now have been hit on the head with a pumpkin. Allah, great is thy wisdom indeed."</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Sources - There are a number of versions of this tale. In some it is an eggplant, and in others a watermelon that Nasrudin is pondering. </div> <div> I found versions in the following sources: </div> <div> <I>Tales of the Hodja</I>, by Charles Downing (New York: Henry Walck, l965), 54; </div> <div> <I>Watermelons , Walnuts and the Wisdom of Allah and Other Tales of the Hoca</I>, by Barbara Walker (New York: Parents Magazine Press, l967); </div> <div> Once the  Hodja, by Alice Geer Kelsey (New York: David McKay & Co., l943) 79-85; Pro Lingua Associates, l991).</div> <div> <I>The Tales Doorways to the Soul: Fifty-two Wisdom Tales from around the World</I>, by Elisa Pearmain (Cleveland:Pilgrim l998). Pg. 88.</div> <bR> <div>     </div> <div>  <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT></div> <div> Thoughts on the story </div> <bR> <div>     As a general rule I do not think it is wise to suggest to others what meaning to extract from a story. Responding to a story is so personal, each of us will connect to different elements of a story; be it the emotional, situational, metaphorical, or relational. We will take from it what we need at the time. Therefore, if this story is new to you, it is best to think about what the story made you think of, or feel, before you read my current take on it. </div> <div>    On the other hand, life has become so busy that we do not always stop to really ponder a story. We may chuckle, or say, "aha", but we do not always spend more time with the story; time that would help us to make deeper connections to it, and allow it to become our teacher. Also in days of old when stories were passed through oral means we benefited from the interpretations of the teller, and the discussion that would follow. Written transmission may not inspire this reflection as deeply. Therefore, I have chosen to offer some suggestions for ways of looking at the stories. Ponder my questions and thoughts as you wish, but remember to come back to the question, "How is this my story?"</div> <bR> <div>    Nasrudin questions the ways of nature, fantasizing his own version of reality, then learns that the Creator had actually seen the bigger picture better than he had. He has an experience of great appreciation for the Creator's vision.  What a wonderful story to illustrate how it is to live in a world that is not of our making, while trying to be the co-creators of our own lives and the world around us. It is hard for us to acknowledge that we cannot always control our own lives, and yet there can be incredible grace in appreciating, and surrendering to the mystery of the Creation. </div> <div>    What rituals do you have for reminding yourself of the beauty around yourself on a daily basis? What rituals do you have for expressing gratitude for this beauty?</div> <div>    </div> <div> Creativity is the Creator's gift to us as human beings, and yet we need to know when and how to use it, and when to surrender to the greater vision of forces that we cannot know.  Actually surrender requires creativity too!</div> <div>    From our vantage point there is so much needless suffering and violence in the world. Who among us has not railed against the creator a time or ten? It is relatively easy to surrender to events and circumstances that do not deeply wound or unsettle us, but what about the losses that throw our whole worlds into chaos and darkness?  How can we surrender? What can be gained by surrender? What does it mean to surrender?</div> <div>    Those in the recovery movement may liken this to, "Turning it over to the Higher Power."  It is so difficult for most of us to let go of trying to be in control of our lives. The new age movement seems to be telling us at every turn that we are responsible for controlling our health, wealth, love lives and careers by mental effort. Yet many of the spiritual traditions both east and west urge us to surrender to the present moment, and to, "be as the lilies in the field,". How do we both strive to reach our dreams, and attain a measure of peace in this life?</div> <div>    There is a commonly known Zen story that demonstrates how to surrender to the moment. </div> <bR> <div>    <I>In this story a man is being chased by a tiger across a field. He comes to the edge of a cliff. He grabs a vine and climbs down the cliff face to save himself. Soon he finds that a mouse is chewing the vine above him, and below another tiger awaits his inevitable fall. Suddenly the man smells a sweet aroma and sees a cluster of wild grapes growing within reach. He grabs one and savors the flavor declaring, “Oh, how delicious!”</I></div> <bR> <div>    Despite the troubles in his past, and certain death in his future, he is able to find complete enjoyment by finding the beauty in the present moment where neither past nor future live. Often we miss peace and simple joy because we are wishing or dreaming or planning for what will be, or regretting or missing what has been. </div> <bR> <div>    Can you think of other stories that speak to you of surrendering and appreciation of mystery?</div> <div>    </div> <div>    Sometimes our culture seduces us into thinking that we need to have our lives go a certain way. Perhaps we think we need to attain a certain level of financial security, or to own a certain type of home. Maybe we wish we looked differently. Some of the issues that we struggle with and that frustrate us and lower our sense of our self worth are things that we could let go of. In the letting go we would be freer to explore and appreciate the gifts that we do possess. Sometimes the act of surrendering is a spiritual experience unto itself.</div> <bR> <div>    The Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuh helps many people to simply put each of their life situations into perspective:</div> <bR> <div> God give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed,</div> <div> courage to change the things that should be changed,</div> <div> and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.</div> <bR> <div>    This week, try going about and noticing what things and events in your life you wish were different. Decide what is in your power to change and what must be accepted with grace and serenity.  Feel what it would be like to actively choose to surrender to present circumstances, to find peace within them. </div> <bR> <div>    How can you help this story to embed itself with your psyche so that it can serve to remind you of the need to surrender, and appreciate the mysteries of life?  See my <A HREF="index_suggestions_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wisdom Tales"><U>suggestions for making a deeper connection</U></A> to the story on my wisdom tales home page.</div> <bR> <div>    When wisdom tales serve as our teachers, they often call us to remember experiences from our own lives in which we have grappled with the issues and dilemmas raised in the story. There is much to be gained by revisiting these memories. We can view them through new eyes, or the wisdom gained in our experiences can be rekindled to help us to find the path to wisdom and grace again. </div> <div>    As I pondered this story I was reminded of times in my life when I have struggled with surrender. I would like to offer one of these personal stories here in the hopes that it will help you to remember events from your life that bring this issue closer to home.  </div> <div>    This is a true story, and in that, I ask that if you retell it, you do so only in a casual setting and not in performance, or in writing.</div> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>