The Hidden Pearl |
Having
focused on image and the technique related to its representation/production in Week
2, a rebalancing back into the experience of story felt right for our third
week of Good Stories. In order to deepen
the oral-story-experience beyond attending to the surface story line, we’ve
also brought in an emphasis on amplification
We
returned to a theme from our first day, buried
treasure, and now in week 3 we’re amplifying this archetypal image with
stories on “the water of life,” a wonderful variation on the theme. In order to connect X (a treasure box hidden
underground) with Y (a healing tonic: water of life), our minds are pushed
toward abstraction where broadened terms like “treasure,” "talent," and “grace” provide
gateways for illumination and vision, where the gifts from the ocean of the
unconscious flow bringing vitality and insight, as well as a healing touch for
the world. While we don’t want to risk inflation (for example, by presuming to
have the healing power to fix anybody or anything), we might, by amplifying the
archetypal images for treasure, open our intentions toward accepting each of
our talents and taking on the concomitant responsibility to know and develop
these gifts, not just for personal gain but to contribute to peace and justice.
The story we call “Golden
Water” (which amplifies the Grimms’ tale, “Water of Life”) launches
with three sisters playing a wishing game. Consistent with the treasury of wish-fulfillment
stories ranging from King Midas to “The Monkey’s Paw” and including “The
Fisherman and His Wife” (from Shaw’s World
Tales), we’re cautioned about attempts to shortcut the maturation of
destiny. When the youngest sister in “Golden Water” makes a flippant wish to
marry the new Shah, her dream amazingly comes true; but she was scarcely
prepared to handle the demands of being a co-ruler, particularly the jealousy
of her sisters. In addition to stories, a sampling
of persons considered to have had great success and who died young also brings
a sobering reflection on the wish-making enterprise. So what might we glean from
our amplification that guides the path of destiny and avoids tragic
consequences from making a wish?
Fairytales concentrate character into
extreme forms and fast-forward time so that we’re offered a glimpse of what
might otherwise elude us when we're walking in the more subtle and slow-moving pace of everyday
life. For example, while we might underestimate the danger of presumption in “real
life,” presentation of the two older brothers in “Water of Life” magnifies
the effects of greed and arrogance so we can hardly miss the warning. Each
brother scorns the small voice that asks “Where are you going so fast on your
high horse?” Soon enough each is stuck, wedged in by canyon walls; it happens
in real life when a person fails to heed the warning signs of hangovers, smoker’s
cough, overwork fatigue, on and on. Even when rescued by their compassionate,
though naïve, younger brother, the arrogant ones immediately betray him and
steal the treasure.
When
we amplify with “Golden Water,” we’re warned that it’s not only brothers who
betray; sisters or anyone else can do it, too. The amplification helps us shift
from just making applications to our external social life and include interpretations
into the inner level. For example, we might recognize that we have internalized
older voices that dominate more fragile possibilities. Our imagination can be
chilled by the scorn of status quo so that the adaptations needed to change our
environment are left in the fantasy heap. C.G. Jung’s discussion of the need to
attend to the inferior
function connects with this bit of guidance from the stories.
In the closing discussion of our
third-week classes, I observed and commented on a student’s amplification of
the archetypal treasure. Among the many possible applications of treasure, she selected
the treasure of knowledge. As she brought the images from “Golden Water” to her
exploration, I saw that she was pointing us to the SECRET! “Golden Water” paved the way for opening a
vital distinction of knowledge worth knowing. With all the volumes of
information flooding our intake valves, how do we discern the bit really worth
knowing?
The
wisdom to penetrate to essence was being offered through our amplification of the
archetype of treasure. “Golden Water” helps by giving not one but three images for
the treasure. When the sister climbed the pinnacle of the quest, she found an
unusual representative for treasure, a talking bird. We recognize its value
when we see it doesn’t just talk but it reveals secret knowledge. In the story,
the bird knows and tells the true but hidden identity, and the bird constructs
a scenario where the person who has been most blinded from seeing what should
have been obvious finally “gets it.” The essence of the way to know comes in
the pearl, another fabulous image with the rich associations
of being formed through coping with and transforming an irritant, a bit of
grit.
Another
view of this secret knowing must involve a person’s perception of his or her
destiny. As elaborated in a previous blog,
James Hillman tells us about the secret and our destiny:
“So the ‘lot’ [from Plato’s Republic] is the image that is your inheritance, your soul’s portion in the world order, and your place on earth, all compacted into a pattern that has been selected by your soul before you ever got here—or, better said, that is always and continually being selected by your soul, because time does not enter the equations of myth. . . Unpacking the image takes a lifetime” (The Soul’s Code, p. 45).
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