"There are 2 kinds of people - one kind you can tell just by looking at them at what point they congealed into their final self ... you know you can expect no more surprises from it .. the other kind keep moving, changing .... and making new trysts with life and the motion of it keeps them young." - Robert Fulghum
Stories ...... we all love them ...... children and adults .. .... stories have layers ... it's up to you where you want to stop ... many times, your soul processes old memories, lets go of the past , helps you enjoy life more, see life ... in colour.
As part of the National Storytelling week 2014 i want to share with you as story I really , really like ... a story that speaks to me on quite a few levels and I am sure you will enjoy it as well. Much to my delight when i read the story, I knew imediately which painting to post next to it ... it is called ... Little Elf and ... i painted it some months ago.
"The almost tragic story of a tender Elf" - by John Bradshow
Once upon a time there was a tender little elf. He was a very happy elf. He was bright and curious and knew the secrets of life. For example, he knew that love was a choice; that love involved hard work; that love was the only way. He knew that he could do magic things and that his unique form of magic was called ... creativity. The little elf knew hat as long as he truly created, there would be no violence. And he knew the grateast secret of all - that he was somehting rather than nothing. He knew he was being and that being was everything. This was called he secred of "I AMness". The creator of all elves was the Great I AM. The Great I AM always was and always will be. No one knew how or why this was true. The Great I AM was totally loving and creative.
Another most important secret was the secret of balance. The secret of balance meant that all life is a marriage of opposites. There is no life without physical death; no joy without sorrow; no pleasure without pain; no light without darkness; no sound without silence; no good without bad. True healt is a form of wholeness. And wholeness is holiness. The great secret of creativity was to balance a wild creative unfocused energy with a form that allows that energy to be.
One day our tender elf, whose name by the way was Joni, was given another secret. This secret scared him a little. The secret was that he had a mission he must do before he could create forever. He had to share his secrets with a ferocious tribe of non-elves. You see, elf life was so good and wonderful that the secret of that wonder needed to be shared with those who didn't know anything about the wonderment. Goodness always wants to share itself. Each elf was assigned to one family of the ferocious non-elf tribe. The non-elf tribe was called Snamuh. The Snamuh knew no secrets. They often squandered their beings. They worked endlessly and seemed to feel alive only when they were doing something. Some elves referred to them as DOs. They also killed one another and engaged in war. Sometimes at sporting evetns and music oncerts they trampled one another to death.
Joni entered his Snamuh family on June 29th, 1933 at 3.05 AM. He had no idea what was in store for him. He didn't know that he would have to use every ounce of his creativity in order to tell his secrets.
When he was born, he was given the Snamuh name of Farquahar. His mother was a beautiful 19 year old princess who was ravished by a need to perform. She had a strange curse on her. The curse was a neon build that rested in the middle of her forehead. Whenever she tried to play, have fun, or just be, the light blinked on and a voice said, "Do your duty". She could never just do nothing and be. Farquhar's father was a short but handsome kind. He also carried a curse. He was haunted by his wicked witch mother, Harriet. She lived on his left shoulder.
Anytime he tried to just be, she screamed and yelled. Harriet was always telling him to do something.
In order for Farquahar to tell his parents and others his secrets, they needed to be quiet and stop doing long enough to see and hear him. This they could not ; his mom because of the neon bulb, and his dad because of Harriet. From the moment he was born, Farquhar was all alone. Since he has the body of a Snamuh, he also had the feelings of a Snamuh. And because of his abandonment, he felt furious, deeply frustrated and hurt.
Here he was a tender elf who knew the great secrets of I AM and no one would listen to him. What he had to say was life giving but his parents were so busy doing there duty, they could not learn from him. in fact, his parents were so confused, they thought that it was their job to teach Farquhar to do his duty. Anytime he failed to do what they thought was his proper duty, they punished him. Sometimes they ignored him by putting him in his room. Sometimes they hit him or screamed at him. In fact, Farquahar hated the screaming the worse. He could take the isolation and the hitting was over with quickly; but the screaming and endless telling him about his duty went so deep that it even threatened his elf soul. Now, you cannot kill an elf's soul, because it is part of the Great I AM; but it can be so badly wounded that it seems like it isn't there anymore. This is what happened to Farquhar. In order to survive, he stopped trying to show his mother and father his secrets and instead pleased them by performing and doing his duty.
His mom and dad were very unhappy Snamuhs . (Actually most Snamuhs are unhappy unless they learn the secret of the elves)
Farquahar's dad was so tormented by Harriet that he used all his energy to find a magic potion that took away all his feelings. But the magic was not creativity. It actually took away his creativity. Farquahar's dad became like a "walking dead man". After a while, he stopped even coming home. Farquahar's Snamuh heart was broken. You see, every Snamuh needs both his father's and his mother'slove in order to let the elf in him tell his secrets.
Farquahar was overwhelmed by his father's abandonment. And, since his father could no longer help his mother, her neon bulb blinked more intensely. Consequently, Farquhar was yelled at and cajoled even more. By the time he reached his 12th birthday, he'd forgotten he wa an elf. A few years later, he learned about the magic forgotten he was an elf. A few years laer, he learned about the magic potion that his father used to kill Harriet's voice. At 14 he started using it often. While in the hospital he heard an inner voice urging him to wake up. The voice that moved him to wake up was the " being" voice of his elf soul. For you to see, no matter how bad it gets, the elf voice will always call a Snamuh to celebrate his being. Joni never gave up, he never stopped trying to save Farquar. If you're a Snamuh and you're reading this, please remember this; You have an elf sould in you that is alwyas trying to call you to your being.
When Farquhar was lying in the hospital, he finally heard Joni's voice. That made all the difference. "