The Direction of Intention

A great story teller once told me that all stories are really about passages from one way of being to another way of being. This requires an “in-between” space; you are no longer what you once were and you are not yet what you will become. You are off balance and being off balance is uncomfortable. It is vulnerable. It’s also necessary.

When you are living your passage-story, many of your friends won’t recognize you and that will frighten them (if you can change, so might they); they will try to force you back into your old form; they will mock you, criticize you, ignore you – your discomfort will make them uncomfortable. Maintaining comfort is a powerful motivator – and also impossible to do.

Others will have the capacity to see beyond the surface to what is essential about you. They can see beyond the change, recognize the role of the discomfort and they will support you in walking into the change. They will not enable you. They will not protect you from the change nor support you in your tale of woe. They will, however, help you walk toward the discomfort because it is the path to your transformation. When working with groups, Patti and I ask, “How are you trying to remove the discomfort from your life (and keep yourself from transforming)?”

This is how the allies and the nay-sayers play their roles for the Polar Bear King:

II. HAVE COURAGE AND LIVE

When he awoke he was sore over every inch of his body. The queen of the gulls – a beautiful blue-grey bird, his best friend, stood beside him. She said, “I’m glad you are alive my friend. We feared you were dead.” The great king’s eyes were still blurry and his thoughts were spinning.

“What happened to me?” he asked, “Why do I ache over every inch of my body?”

The queen of the gulls breathed a heavy sigh. She hated to tell her dear friend the bad news.  Finally, she said, “The two-legged creatures thought you were dead and they cut away your great coat of hair. They carried it away with them to their ship. Your great silver coat is gone.” The king groaned in despair.

“We now know you are a great magician,” she said, “for not even the creatures with their fiery stick couldn’t harm you.” “Oh. No…,” was all the polar Bear King could say. He knew, without his great coat of fur, that he would very soon freeze to death.

“Do not worry great king,” said the queen of the gulls, “I have a plan to help you. You have been so kind to us, sharing your food and delighting us with your dance; we wish to repay your kindness by giving you as many feathers as we can spare.” The queen pointed to the sky.  The great bear looked up. High above, a thousand gulls circled and circled. One after another they plucked with their softest feathers, swooped down and dropped them gently onto the body of the Polar Bear king.

Soon he was completely covered in thick soft downy feathers. The queen of the gulls said to him, “Our feathers are soft and as beautiful as your own thick silver coat. They will guard you from cold winds and warm you while you sleep. Have courage, now, and live!” She imitated his dance, going (flap, flap, shimmy-shimmy shake) and cawed, “Oh, yeah!”

The king of the Polar Bears managed a smile and limped back to his cave. He had courage and he lived. His wounds healed and the feathers grew on his body as his own hair had done. The rest of the summer and all through the six months of night, the Polar Bear king lived in seclusion He was not ashamed of his feather covering, he was grateful for it as he would have frozen to death without it, but it felt strange to him. He was different now, so he avoided meeting the other bears.

When, finally, the moon fell away from the sky and the long winter night was over, two polar bears came to find their great king. They were young and wanted advice about hunting in the new season. They knocked at his cave and heard him say, “Enter.” They stepped inside, excited and anxious to hear what he’d say. They took one look at him and stopped dead in their tracks. Then, they jumped back in fright. Their great king was covered in feathers! And then, they began to snicker, trying hard not to laugh. It was too much! Finally they burst into great gales of laughter. They howled so hard they could not speak. The great king sat in silence, and bowed his head. (…to be continued)

Filed under: Story, Uncategorized |