The help that we need often comes from unexpected sources, if we have the wisdom to recognize them.
We’re surrounded by helpers, teachers, and truth-tellers in the visible and invisible worlds, and yet it’s easy to miss the advice and magical tools and get stuck.
We think that we know what’s important. We place faith in illusions of power and control. We’re rude to the dwarf who stands at the side of the road.
There are so many old stories on this theme. Apparently, learning how to respond without arrogance is part of the process, a lesson on the journey that is repeated over and over again!
Here are a few short stories with a humorous twist to help you locate yourself on the spectrum between pride and prejudice, and an open mind and heart. I hope you find a moment or two in these tales to aid you in your quest for transformation.
Transcript of Ask the dwarf
Hello, and welcome to Myth Matters, storytelling and conversation about mythology and why myth matters to your life today. I’m your host and personal mythologist Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide, beautiful, crazy world of ours, you are part of this story circle.
In the last episode, told you a tale about a sick king, his three sons, and the water of life. I keep thinking about the dwarf and he’s my starting point today.
In “The Water of Life,” the three princes, the sons of the sick king, each go out in search of a possible cure, the water of life. The youngest son succeeds with the aid of dwarf who is standing by the side of the road. The two eldest brothers also met the dwarf but they dissed him. They are rude, dismissive, they don’t stop to talk and they end up completely immobilized in a deep ravine. Now, this type of arrogance is a common character flaw in fairy tales. Much like hubris in many myths, the person overestimates himself, and fails to give attention or recognition to what appears small, powerless, or without immediate use or place in the familiar world of every day.
The dwarf in that story had the necessary directions and tools to obtain the water of life. He knew how to operate in an enchanted kingdom, where the men (in this case it’s the men), were like stone, in one way or another. Dwarves are frequently associated with Earth, mining, minerals, and hidden wealth. They are an ancient race, with origins in pre-human times, in mythic times, when the earth was young. A dwarf is commonly imagined as small, human-like, a master builder and craftsman, someone who can make and recognize power tools. Dwarves discern value, and they value their own independence. The dwarf knows his worth, and resists being pressed into service. Quick to take offense, in many stories the dwarf is the enemy of the hero, which raises the question in my mind, about the quality of the supposed hero!
We are living in transformative times my friend, and this transformation first and foremost, involves our ideas, our concepts, and our notions of value. You may be called to consider how your preconceptions about who matters and what is important, and your certainty about the path that you think you must follow is keeping you stuck, like the eldest brothers, in the ravine in “The Water of Life.” We are trained, I think, to adopt a rather narrow perspective, to accept cultural ideas about value and to go along to get along.
And yet, I think the challenges posed by arrogance are more than problems created by an overly rational culture (in the West anyway), or our general societal pressures to conform. If you take the thousands of myths, fairy and folk tales, told around the world for century upon century as a map of human nature, you realize that the tendency to overestimate ourselves and the deep need for certainty and the security that provides, however fleeting it may be, is woven into our humaneness.
I have a few short stories for you today. No more dwarves rather, these are variations on this theme of arrogance and transformation. I think their simplicity is deceiving. So, relax and listen. Note the moments or details that catch your attention. They can be a way into the story or this theme for you right now. I hope that you find a catalyst, a word or an image that can drop like a seed into your psychic soil to reveal the paradox:
You often know more than you realize AND also less than you think, depending on where and how you look and listen, and what you are willing to pursue.
Our first story is of Latvian folktale called “The King on Trial.”
Once upon a time, there was an arrogant king, who was very fond of flaunting his power. One day he stood at the window of his castle, and thought to himself, “My power is so great that there is nothing that anyone can do against me.” At that moment, a lovely bird flew toward him and perched on the windows. This bird was so beautiful, that the king reached for it. And the bird seemed tame, so he thought that he wouldn’t have any trouble at all catching it. But just as soon as he reached out his hand, the bird flew away.
The king was determined to catch the bird, so he hurried outside and started running along following behind the bird as it flew. He followed the bird’s path until he reached a river. The bird started to fly across the river and of course, the king couldn’t fly. He had to swim. He took off his clothes, laid them on the bank, and jumped into the river, and swam after the bird. When he reached the other side and came out on the bank, he saw the bird. It fluttered around a little bit and then flew into a thicket of bushes and completely disappeared from sight.
The king waited around for a while. He tried to be patient but the bird did not reappear. So finally, deeply disappointed, he turned around, got back in the river, swam across to the other side, to the spot where he had left his clothes. But his clothes weren’t there. He looked all around, and his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
Just then, a kindly beggar came by. The king stopped him and told him his story, and the beggar gladly offered the king the clothes that he was wearing. The king gratefully accepted them, put them on, and made his way back to his castle. But when he reached the castle gates, he found that he could not enter. He wasn’t allowed in because no beggars were allowed in the castle.
“But I’m the king,” he said. All of the servants laughed, how could a beggar be king? Well, the king insisted and his children were summoned, and then his ministers were summoned, and all of them looked at the man, but none of them recognized the king. So, he was turned away and he had to wander the countryside as a beggar.
Not long after this, the new king announced that there was going to be a grand ball, a wonderful dance and huge feast, and everyone was welcome. Even the beggars. The king-turned-beggar was very hungry and not knowing what else to do, he appeared at the castle with these huge groups of other beggars. And sure enough, there was a long, long table, full of food, every kind of food, and not only were the beggars being given food, they were also given alms.
The beggar-king remembered the balls and the feasts that he had once given. He began to weep. His weeping was heard by the new king, who immediately summoned him to his side. “Why” he asked the beggar, “are you weeping when there is so much food and festivity around you?” “Oh” said the beggar-king, “I once thought that I was so powerful, and that nothing could be done against me. How arrogant I was. But now I understand, and I will never be the same.”
The new king recognized him and at these words, he took off his royal garments and presented them to the beggar-king. And then poof, on the spot, he vanished. The beggar-king was now recognized as the real king, and he ruled again from his castle.
But from that day forward, he was humble and good at heart. Humble and good at heart. Makes you wonder about the nature of that bird, doesn’t it? And now this next story is a Japanese folk tale, called “The Straw Millionaire.”
Once upon a time, there lived a young man who was all alone and penniless. Unable to deal with his poverty any longer, he prayed to Kannon, the God of mercy. “Please give me some money,” he pleaded. He continued to pray day after day, and one day he heard a message from the God: Once you leave this temple, take good care of the first thing you touch. Then go west.
As the young man left the temple gates, he stumbled and fell, and his hand landed on a piece of straw. Well, this single stalk seemed completely useless. But he held it tight and began walking west.
As he walked along, a horsefly joined him and it started buzzing around his face. He grabbed the fly and tied it to the tip of the straw stalk. He continued to walk with it buzzing and flying around, when he met a boy who was amazed by the stalk and the buzzing fly, and asked if he could have it. The man gave the boy the stalk, and his mother was so pleased that she gave the man three oranges. The man walked off quite happy to see that this piece of straw had turned into three oranges.
He continued walking, and he came upon a young woman, who was very, very thirsty from the hot day. The man didn’t have any water to give her so he gave her the oranges instead. The woman ate the oranges and regained her strength. As a gesture of gratitude, she gave the man a beautiful piece of cloth. The man was so happy that these three oranges had turned into a fine piece of cloth.
He continued walking, and now he came upon a man who was struggling with a sick horse by the side of the road. “What’s the matter?” he asked. The man told him that he had planned to take his horse to market to trade for some cloth. But the horse fell ill and it just stopped walking. “I will exchange you this piece of cloth for your horse,” he said. The man was delighted with the deal. He exchanged his horse for the cloth and headed back to his village. For the remainder of the night, the young man did his best to nurse the horse back to health. By the next morning, the animal was back to its old self, and the young man had turned the cloth into a horse.
Now riding on his horse, he continued his journey when he came across a man who was closing up his house and making preparations for a journey of his own. The man saw the horse and said, “That is a fine-looking animal. I’m setting out on a journey and I need a horse. Would you perhaps trade your horse for my house and rice field?” The young man readily agreed and took possession of the home. He was amazed that a horse had turned into an entire house and a field as well. In the end, the man became rich with the house and the field he obtained. The locals started to call him “the straw millionaire.”
I love the way that the man keeps going, without expectations or plans, controlling only his response, which seems to be that he is willing to offer what he has, to help, or to see an opportunity in everything. And this reminds me of something that I read recently, in a book by Robert Sardello titled “Facing the World with Soul.” Sardello writes:
“It’s now commonplace to say that the only stability is change, and in the midst of living in an illusion of stability that now seems to shift frequently, though periodically, the cliché of change is comforting because it does not make much of a demand. This dictum merely states that one must be prepared, for tomorrow the world will be different. It does not compel living in change as the constant of the present. nor does it speak to the necessity of forming the capacity to experience change as an activity instead of as only a product. Thus, we are able to sustain the illusion of a stable, literal world, allaying the anxiety that the world may be different tomorrow, with the confidence that it will be possible to make the adjustment.”
I think there’s something really beautiful and profound in this idea, that by telling ourselves that, “Oh, of course everything changes,” we can circumvent the true challenge, which is to be living in the continuous flow of change, to be alert, and attentive and responsive to what’s really going on. And this continuous flow of change is also known as the ongoing process of creation, isn’t it?
This is, like everything else, a process. Of course, it’s not something that is mastered once and for all. But I think that the process, the development of this capacity, of really, truly living and being with change, and in change, involves asking the dwarf. If our stories are any indication of this, it appears that the dwarf, or the bird, or the god with the advice to pick up the piece of straw, is always present. It’s up to us to recognize and respond. One way that you can “ask the dwarf” is to work with stories the way that we do here on this podcast. Over time, it’s a capacity that you can develop, to learn a different way of being with the story and a different type of inquiry, inquiry into your own ideas about the story, to take the story as a teacher.
This is also the technique that’s behind the Story Oracle readings that I offer. In a Story Oracle reading, we use synchronicity to find a story that we work with together. Many people have found this to be a very powerful way to open up a situation or a question in their lives, to fresh insight, and possibilities. Sometimes you get stuck, and you need to try something else. You need different means. You need to ask the dwarf. If this sounds interesting and useful to you, you can find details about Story Oracle readings at my website, mythicmojo.com.
Now I have one more story for you today but first, I want to give a big welcome to the new subscribers Torbjorn, Sharon, and MK, and also a shout out to the patrons and supporters of this podcast whose financial contributions keep it all going. In particular, thank you to Jessica in Portland, and Jeff in Sacramento. I so much appreciate you, Jessica and Jeff. If you’re finding something of value here in Myth Matters and you have the means, I hope that you’ll consider joining me on Patreon too.
The closing story for today is from Iran. It’s called “The Quivering Needle” and it’s part of the Sufi canon of stories that involve one of my favorite wise fools, the mullah Nasruddin.
“The Quivering Needle.”
One day, the mullah Nasruddin was walking in the bazaar, greeting his friends, making note of who and what was there, when he noticed that a great crowd of men had gathered. They were talking very excitedly about something. He decided to go over and find out what was going on. “Salaam” the men greeted him. “Salaam,” Nasruddin replied. “What’s going on?” “We found this strange thing out in the desert” they told him, “and we’re trying to figure out what it is. Maybe you know, I mean, you’re wise. Can you tell us what this is?”
Nasruddin took the object. It was a small metal and glass kind of box, and inside the box, he saw letters and a tiny needle. It was the needle that was the really strange thing because as he handled the box and turned it around, the needle moved and adjusted itself so it was always pointing to the north. Nasruddin stroked his beard and thought his hardest. Then he handed the little box back to the man.
“Well, what is it?” asked the camel driver. All of the men standing around looked hopefully at Nasruddin, waiting for an answer. Some wise words. They were very curious about this needle that had this magical way of always pointing north. And for a minute, Nasruddin simply stood there and stroked his beard. And then he started crying. And then he started laughing. And then he cried some more. And then he laughed some more. And then he cried. And then he laughed. And then he cried. And then he laughed.
Some of the men said, “Why are you crying?” And some of the men said, “Why are you laughing?” And then finally someone said, “No one, not even a mullah, should be crying and laughing at the same time.” “I’ll tell you why I’m crying and why I’m laughing,” said Nasruddin. At this point, everyone in the bazaar had crowded close to come in and hear the wise thing that Nasruddin was going to say.
“I’m crying” said Nasruddin, “because not one of you is smart enough to name this little round box with its quivering needle. How stupid are you all? I’m ashamed. Do you wonder that I cry?” He looked around from man to man and they all kind of shrunk a little bit under his scornful glance. But then Mustapha, who was a friend of Nasruddin, who was standing there and knew him well said, “Okay, okay, Nasruddin. You’ve told us why you were crying. Now, will you tell us why you are laughing?” And the mullah laughed once more.
“I’m laughing” he said, “because I don’t know what it is either.”
I don’t know what it is either. Sometimes simply telling that truth is the best thing that we can do. And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Thank you so much for listening. Take good care of yourself. And until next time, happy mythmaking and keep the mystery in your life alive.
Want more info about Robert Sardello and his books, and Integral Spiritual Psychology? Click here to visit his website
