To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
from “Auguries of Innocence” by William Blake
Among the paradoxes posed by Blake, I find the notion of “eternity in an hour” particularly compelling. Events of the past year have changed our relationship to time. I wonder how to retain the gifts as we move into spring, fresh starts, and new life.
How to remain in the still point as the wheel begins to spin.
In this episode I tell a Japanese fairy tale about the fisherman Urashima Taro, which leads me to thoughts about the power of stories to collapse time, and one of Joseph Campbell’s observations about art, wonder, and aliveness.
Transcript of Eternity in an Hour
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.
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
You might recognize those as the opening lines to a poem by William Blake, called “Auguries of Innocence.” This poem is a series of paradoxes, and this last line in particular, has always struck me. Eternity in an hour. What does that mean, to experience eternity in an hour?
I was contemplating this on my walk the other day. I was thinking about the pandemic in the last year, and how things might change as people get vaccinated and we move into the next phase together. One thing that has changed is our relationship to time. And I know for me that part of this is the imposed changes to my routine, and so then changes to my schedule. But more than that, my experience in the last year has focused my attention on my attention. It’s raised new questions for me about what’s worthy of my attention, and how I use it and whether or not I use it. It’s made me more aware of how I distract myself, and also, where I allow myself to become absorbed by something. And what that does with time.
Well, thinking about how time passes or doesn’t pass, and how the experience of time fits or doesn’t fit with what’s happening with the tick tock of the clock, led me to a story. This is a Japanese folk tale that a friend of mine, David Gonzalez, who is a marvelous storyteller, shared with me a number of years ago, and I haven’t ever really worked with it much because the story really bugs me. So, note to self. The theme of the last podcast was “stories that disturb us” and I guess I’m going to be doing a two-step for a while here with stories that disturb me. This certainly fits in that category.
This is a Japanese folktale about a fisherman named Urashima Taro and a sea tortoise. There are a number of versions of this story available online and elsewhere. So, let me share my version of the Japanese fairy tale Urashima Taro with you. I invite you to sit back and relax and let this story take you where you need to go right now. Note the moments or the details that catch your attention. Whatever this is, it’s an opening into the meaning that this story holds for you right now.
The Story of Urashima Taro
A long, long time ago, a young fisherman named Urashima Taro lived in a little fishing village in the district of Tango, on the shores of Japan. His father had been a fisherman too, and he had knowledge of the sea and skill with his boat, lines, and nets. One day Urashima rowed out alone, far out onto the water, to fish. The hours went by and he didn’t catch even one fish. Urashima decided to stay out through the night, but despite his diligence, his nets were empty and nothing tugged at his line.
Finally, on the third day out on the sea, he caught something. At last! Urashima Taro was quite happy. With some effort he pulled in a large sea tortoise, grabbed the shell, and hauled it into the boat. It rocked gently on the waves. The water and the sky above were a clear blue and the breeze was gentle. He was tired from the days out on the sea and decided to close his eyes and rest before heading back home with his catch.
When Urashima Taro roused himself, the tortoise was still as a stone in the bottom of the boat, still except for the slow blinking of its ancient eyes. It was watching him intently. “Urashima” the tortoise said, “Have you ever seen the Palace of the Dragon King of the Sea?” The words of the tortoise came as a surprise. After a moment, Urashima said “No brother tortoise. I’ve never seen the Palace of the Dragon King of the Sea, and I’ve never spoken with a tortoise before either.” “It’s a magnificent place,” said the tortoise, “one of the great wonders of the universe. If you would like to visit the Sea King’s land I will be your guide in exchange for my life.”
Well, Urashima Taro was a fisherman by trade but the sea was more than a source of food to him. He loved it for its mystery, power, and beauty. He was very intrigued by this offer. “I would certainly like to visit such a place” he said,” but I’m only a poor mortal without the power to swim like a sea creature like yourself.” “You need not swim yourself” said the tortoise.” You can ride on my back and I will take you. It’s not as impossible as you think.” Urashima Taro helped the tortoise back into the water. The shell seemed broad, broad enough. All of this was beyond Urashima’s understanding. He lowered himself down onto the tortoise and the pair slowly sunk beneath the waves.
Down, down the tortoise dived. Urashima Taro never grew tired and somehow, he never got wet. After some time, the red roof of the palace appeared on the horizon and then Urashima and the tortoise arrived at the golden gates of the Palace of the Dragon King of the Sea.
The tortoise went to the gatekeeper and said: “This is Urashima Taro, from the country of Japan. I have had the honor of bringing him as a visitor to this kingdom. Please show him the way.” The gatekeeper, who was a fish, led Urashima to the palace. Everyone they passed greeted him warmly and welcomed him to the home of the Dragon King of the Sea.
He was led into the inner chambers and there was the Sea King, the Queen, and their beautiful daughter. The princess was unlike anyone that Urashima had ever seen, and when she greeted him her voice was like music on the waves. A wonderful meal was set for them in the grand hall, and she took him by the hand and led him to the seat next to her own. “Urashima Taro” she said, “it gives me great pleasure to welcome you to my father’s kingdom, for I was the tortoise whose life you spared. If you like you can remain here in comfort and I will gladly be your wife. We can live happily together.”
Urashima’s heart was filled with wonder and joy. The beauty of the place and of this princess was beyond his imagining, and he quickly accepted her offer. The meal became their bridal banquet and Urashima thought he could never feel a greater happiness. Three days passed in the delightful company of his new wife and she showed him the wonders of the Sea King’s palace and gardens. But then he felt a pang. He thought of his parents, who were no doubt worried about him, and a surge of longing for his boat and home in the village on the shore. Now, he began to miss them.
The princess noticed this change in his demeanor and asked Urashima what was wrong. He told her that she longed to visit his parents and see his old home once again, and she was filled with dismay. “Do you really want to go back?” she asked. “We are so happy here together and we made a marriage pledge.” Urashima did value all that he enjoyed under the sea with the princess, whom he loved.. and yet. In the end, they agreed that he should go back to visit his parents to assuage their worry and his homesickness.
When it was time for the journey, the princess gave Urashima a beautiful lacquered box, decorated with coral and pearl and bound with red silk cord. “Please don’t forget me, my love” she said. “When you are ready to come home, stand on the shore and hold this box tightly in your hands. But don’t open it. You must never open it.” Urashima took the box. “I will return to you” he said, “and I promise that I will not open the box.” Then they walked to the gates of the palace, where a large tortoise waited to carry Urashima Taro back to his familiar shore.
When he stood on that beach at last, a strange fear welled up in his heart. Something didn’t seem quite right. As Urashima walked toward the village, past the rocks and boats and scattered buildings, he found himself questioning what he saw. “How did I not notice that before?” he asked himself. “Surely that was not there?” Urashima didn’t recognize the people who walked past him and some of them looked at him oddly. All of this will make sense when I am home and see my mother and father he thought, and quickened his pace.
But when he arrived at the place, Urashima’s confusion deepened. It looked so different. He stood in the yard and a strange man came outside and looked at him suspiciously. “What do you want?” he asked. “Where is Urashima’s family” he said to the man. “Who are you?” the man replied. “I am Urashima the fisherman and this is my home” he said. “You speak of someone who lived here years ago,” said the man. “Urashima went out onto the sea alone and never came back. That was three hundred years ago.”
Three hundred years ago?!
Bewildered, Urashima wandered the village for ten days without finding any sign of his family or friends, and very few who remembered them at all. Heavy with grief and confusion, he went to the shore with the box that his wife, the princess, had given him. He tried to remember her, and the palace of the Sea King, and all of the joy they had shared. A vision floated up behind his closed eyes. It was beautiful, and then forgetting his promise, Urashima opened the box.
When he opened his eyes, Urashima saw a faint wisp of smoke, like the tail of a tiny cloud, escape from the box, hover, and fade away. Now Urashima, who had been young and full of vigor, felt his body shrink and his bones grow frail. His face wrinkled and he slipped slowly to the sand and died.
And that’s the end of the story of Urashima Taro and the tortoise, and that Palace of the Sea King. Now, I said, this story disturbed me, because it’s full of paradoxes, like Blake’s poem. And there may be any number of things that attract your attention. I want to talk a little bit about the places where I’ve got hung up, and remind you that what bothers you about a story can be just as fruitful as what attracts you.
My first thought about this story is that it doesn’t seem like much of a reward. You know, that the tortoise makes him a deal, and says, “Hey, I’ll take you to this amazing place if you don’t kill me.” But then going to the amazing place means giving up everything else. I mean, he lost his parents, and home. Now, he stepped out of time, in some weird way. And he lost all of these other things that he loved. And then the other thing is the appearance of the princess. And I can say that, it makes sense that we have the young man and the young woman in many of these stories, certainly attractions, but also the masculine feminine (in Jungian terms) union, is important. But then what struck me is that the princess, by virtue of being a tortoise, and then a princess, and then as a member of the royal family in that kingdom of the Sea King is totally Other. She’s totally Other, she’s completely different. Just like, her kingdom is different. And the way that time works, is different.
And it reminded me of a similar paradox that has to do with story, and about how things can appear to be completely and totally different, and yet also be the same. And the possibility that in Blake’s poem, we’re presented with a difference that is a matter of perception only. So, this paradox of a story, something I think about as a storyteller– a story is told in time, it’s told, over time, almost 20 minutes have passed since we began the journey of this episode together. And a story in form is a narrative. It’s a chain of events. I have to tell you that one thing happened and then another and then another. It’s the nature of language, the form of the story itself. And yet, a story can take you to a timeless place. And a story can collapse time, and show us that past, present, and future are in this now. In this moment.
It may sound a bit grand for me to say that you can experience eternity in an hour through a story. And yet, this is possible and it reminds me of an observation that Joseph Campbell makes, in his book, Myths to Live By. In the third chapter, which is titled “The Importance of Rites,” Campbell observes that when you think about the message of myth, the deepest truth of myth, which is a truth that collapses differences and distinctions–this reveals the eternity in an hour. Then you realize that some people have known this, and known how to live with a sense of eternity, for a very long time. And this ability to live with a sense of eternity is different from waiting for the journey that will take you to such a place. Living with the sense of the eternal is Blake’s infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. It’s the ability to be in touch with the mystery of your own being, and the mystery of what is around you, and to be able to see through that, to see it as a microcosm, then, for the larger mysteries around us.
This Saturday, March 20th is the spring equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere. It might be a good time to reflect on these paradoxes. Here we are, the start of spring, the beginning of the astrological sign of Aries, which is the beginning of a new year, and how many times has the earth gone through this cycle? How many times has this been repeated? And yet, despite the repetition, this is a time of beginnings. This cycle holds new and unique life. Turning back to this bit from Campbell and his discussion of rites… Campbell is really speaking more broadly about “forms,” and forms include our art, our poetry and our music, and our stories. And he suggests that these can help us see ourselves and the world with new eyes. They can help us connect to the experience of wonder, which is an opening to this lived experience of eternity.
He asks the question, “I wonder what would inspire this experience of wonder and awe in us today?” He turns then to a poem by Robinson Jeffers titled “Natural Music,” and I want to close with this poem because I really appreciate the open ended nature of Campbell’s discussion, which feels to me completely appropriate for the themes that we’re handling together today.
Natural Music
The old voice of the ocean, the bird chatter of little rivers,
(Winter has given them gold for silver
To stain their water and bladed green for brown to line
their banks)
From different throats in tone one language.
So I believe if we are strong enough to listen without
Divisions of desire and terror
To the storm of the sick nations, the rage of the hunger-smitten cities,
Those voices also would be found
Clean as a child’s; or like some girl’s breathing, who
dances alone
By the ocean-shore, dreaming of lovers.
“Natural Music” by Robinson Jeffers. Feel free to contact me if you have questions or comments about today’s program. A big welcome to the new subscribers and thank you to the new patron on Patreon, Anne-lise in Rennes, France. Thank you! If you are finding value in Myth Matters and have the means, I hope that you’ll become a patron of the podcast on Patreon also.
I’m happy to share news of the launch of the Joseph Campbell Foundation MythMaker℠ Podcast Network. Myth Matters is one of four podcasts included in this launch and I encourage you to check out the others, which all explore mythology from different angles. I posted the link to the network and information about the other member podcasts on my website, mythicmojo.com.
And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Thank you so much for listening. Be safe, and until next time, happy mythmaking and keep the mystery in your life alive…
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