Inner Emptiness: The Japanese story “The Golden Axe”

“He who runs after two hares will catch neither.” Japanese proverb

 

Feelings of emptiness, lack, greed, dishonesty— are any of us immune from this experience? The number of stories that revolve around this problem suggest a near universal need to meet this challenge.

We commonly associate greed with an insatiable need for more and more money, but one can be greedy for all types of things: food, love, power, attention, sex, status, books, time, even spiritual knowledge.

This Japanese story is one that appears in similar forms in other traditions. It offers a lens for reflection on personal and collective struggles for a lived sense of “enough.”

Transcript of Inner Emptiness: The Japanese story “The Golden Axe”

Hello and welcome to Myth Matters an exploration at the intersection of mythology, creativity and consciousness. I’m your host Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide beautiful crazy world of ours, I’m glad that you decided to join me here today.

I’m really feeling the truth of that “beautiful and crazy” these days and the story that I have for you is part of my response to current events here in the United States. Stepping into stories helps me broaden my view and understanding. To clarify my values and also move beyond my personal opinions and judgement. A little bit, anyway. 

Today’s story is a Japanese tale called “The Golden Axe ” from a collection titled The Magic Cap by Yoshiko Ichida. This story appears in other cultures in similar forms. At first blush, the story seemed very simple and yet it’s rested in my psyche in some interesting ways that I’d like to share. Note to the beautiful people who made the fairy glen journey with me recently–I think you’ll hear some echoes of the story that we worked together, echoes that might add something to the moment that you’re holding from our Celtic story.

Without further ado, I invite you to relax and listen, and let yourself enter the story. Note the details that call to you or the questions that arise. This might be something in the story that attracts you; it might be something that bothers you. Either way, it’s a clue to the place this story occupies in your life right now.

The Golden Axe

A long, long, time ago, there were two wood cutters who lived next-door to each other. One was a good and kind man, but he was very, very poor. And because he was old, he had to get up each morning while the stars were still out in order to chop enough wood to sell in the village. With the money he earned from selling wood, he was able to buy just enough food for his wife and himself. 

Now his neighbor was a young man who had much more money, but he never helped the poor wood cutter next-door. Instead, he laughed at him for having to work so hard. “Poor old fellow,” he would say, “You can’t make a living, even with all the hard work you do. Why don’t you get up at 4 o’clock instead of five, then maybe you could earn more money.” And he taunted the old wood cutter as he came home at dusk, carrying a small bag of rice and dried fish – the only food he could afford to buy.

One day, the kind wood cutter went out to chop wood in the mountains as usual. He got up especially early for it was a fine morning. “I think I’ll be able to chop much wood today,” he said to his wife and he trudged up the mountain path. 

He went to his favorite spot beside a quiet pool and took out his axe. He liked to work there, for when he grew tired, he could sit down and watch the water ripple gently in the breeze. He liked to look up and see the clouds, marching in the blueness of the sky. Then he would look down, and there they were again reflected in his own little pool, with the tall cedars stretching all around it. The old man thought there was no place in the world, quite so peaceful and beautiful.

“Oh, what a lovely morning it is,” he said, and singing in a loud voice, the old man began to chop down a tree. He swung his ax high into the air and sang out “Yoshio…. Yoshio, Dokkoi-sho.” 

The sound of the axe rang through the forest and echoed from tree to tree. The old man worked hard and long. Suddenly, as he swung upward, the blade of the axe flew off the handle and went flying into the air.

Before the old man realized what it happened, he heard a splash, and knew it had fallen into the pool. The old wood cutter hurried to the pool and looked in, but all he could see were big circles growing wider and wider on the surface of the water. He stood silently for a few moments, wondering what to do.

“What shall I do? What shall I do?” he murmured sadly. “The pool is deep and I am too old to dive in and look for the blade.” 

Looking into the water, he thought of the money it would cost to buy a new axe. “I cannot afford to buy a new axe now,” he thought. “But without an axe, I can chop no more wood.”

He sat forlorn at the edge of the pool and prayed to the goddess of the water. “Please, dear goddess, help me to find my axe,” the old man prayed. “Without my axe I cannot work and if I do not work, my wife and I will not be able to eat.”

As the old man sat gazing into the depths of the pool, a cloud of mist arose. Milky waves of fog seemed to be floating up from the bottom of the pool. The old man rubbed his eyes, for in the midst of the whiteness that enclosed the pool, he saw the goddess of the water herself. She stood glimmering in a golden robe and in her hand, she held something that shown brighter than the sun itself. The old woodcutter fell to his knees and bowed his head.

“Is this what you were looking for?” the goddess asked. She held out a golden axe toward the old man. The old man blinked hard. “But this is not my axe,” he said. “This one is made of gold and mine was only a poor one made of steel. There must be some mistake.” 

The goddess smiled and took back the golden axe.” Wait a moment old man,” she said, and slowly, slowly, she descended again into the depth of the pool. When she came up again, she carried the old axe blade of the wood cutter in her hands. “Is this one yours then?” she asked. 

The old man’s heart sang with happiness. “Yes, yes,” he answered. “How can I ever thank you?! Now I shall be able to cut down more trees and my wife and I need not go hungry.” The old man bowed low, touching his forehead to the ground.

“You are a good and honest man,” the goddess said. “And I know how hard you work each day.  I hear the sound of your axe from early morning till late in the evening. Not many people would’ve been as honest as you were today, and to reward your honesty, I shall give you this golden ax as well. “

The old man was so surprised that he could not speak. He gazed at the golden axe that sparkled in his hand. When he looked up to thank the goddess, she had already disappeared into the pool. The mist was gone, and the water glistened once more in the sunlight. The old man stood for a long while, looking down into the pool. He wondered if the goddess lived in a beautiful golden palace down at the very bottom. He looked hard, but all he could see were the branches of trees reflected on the surface of the pool. There wasn’t even a ripple to stir the stillness.

“It must’ve been a dream,” the old man thought to himself. But he looked down and there was the golden axe. Beside it lay his steel blade, still damp and wet. “No, it wasn’t a dream at all,” the old man said happily. “It really did happen.” And without cutting any more trees that day, he hurried down the mountainside to tell his wife. 

“Look!,” he shouted as he ran home. Quickly he told his wife about the goddess of the water and the golden axe. Soon the people of the village heard about the good fortune that had befallen the old wood cutter and came to celebrate with him. 

“We are happy for you. You surely deserved it, for you have always been good and kind,” they all said to him. They brought gifts of rice and fish and wine. And it was a strange thing, but from that day on, the old woodcutter never had to worry about having enough money. There always seem to be plenty of coins in his bag and plenty of rice in the bin. The old wood cutter and his wife knew that somehow the golden axe had changed the pattern of their lives. They kept it carefully in a wooden box, and bowed before it each day, thanking the goddess of the water for having brought them such good fortune.

Now, when the wood cutter next-door saw what happened to his neighbor, he wanted more than anything in the world to have a golden axe just like the old man’s. “Surely, if that old wood cutter can get a golden axe from the goddess of the water, I should be able to get one too,” he thought, and he went to ask his neighbor just how he got it. “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said over and over again, until at last he knew all the details of that sunny morning when the ax blade flew off the handle. 

Then he hurried off into the mountains and looked for the spot where the old man liked to work. As soon as he found the pool, he picked a tree very close to the water’s edge and began to chop. “Yoisho, yoisho,” he cried, swinging the ax with all his might. He struck hard and he swung high, but the blade of his ax was firm and would not loosen.

He chopped and he chopped, but still the blade would not come off. The wood cutter became angry. “Stupid axe,” he shouted, and picking up a sharp stone, he hammered at the blade until it broke off from the handle. “Now let’s see what happens,” he said, and he flung the blade into the pool. He watched the circles widen and spread out over the water, and when he thought the goddess had seen the blade, he cried out in a loud voice. “Dear goddess of the water,” he said, “please help me to find my axe, or without it I cannot work and I shall starve to death.”

Soon misty vapors rose from the pool and again, the goddess appeared in her golden robe, carrying a golden axe in her hand. “Is this the axe you were looking for?” she asked. “You are most kind,” the woodcutter said, and he reached out eagerly to take the golden axe. “This is indeed my own axe. I cannot thank you enough for finding it for me.” 

But as the woodcutter bowed, the goddess took the axe away from him. “You lie woodcutter, you lie,” she said. “This is not your own axe blade.” Her voice was full of anger and she looked sternly at the wood cutter. “You are a dishonest and greedy man, and for that you will suffer the rest of your days.” Without another word, she disappeared into the water, leaving the greedy wood cutter sitting all alone in the woods. “Come back” he called after her. “I will take my own steel blade if you will just come back.”

The wood cutter waited, but only the sound of his own cries filled the forest, and the goddess did not return. He looked down sadly at the broken handle of his axe. He did not have the golden axe and besides that, he had lost his own best steel axe. “How foolish I have been,” he thought, but it was too late. He walked home slowly, his head hung low.

When he got home, his wife was greatly excited. “Where is it? Let me see the golden axe,” she cried. But the wood cutter only lifted his two empty hands and shrugged his shoulders. “But didn’t you do as the wood cutter next-door,” his wife shrieked at him. “Look at the food I bought. I’ve told everyone to come tonight to see our golden axe What will we do? What will we do?” 

But there was nothing in the world the woodcutter could do. He couldn’t even go out to chop more wood, for his axe lay at the bottom of the mountain pool. “How will we pay for all this food?” his wife wailed. But the wood cutter did not answer her. “We were foolish to be so greedy,” he said sadly. And from that day on, he worked long and hard.

So, at first blush, this seems to be straightforward story with a moral message about honesty and greed. This woodcutter’s story is known by different titles, the most common is “The Honest Woodcutter,” often accompanied by the obvious takeaway that “honesty is the best policy.” Yes, we’ve all heard this and finding a moral in stories like this one has been part of the teaching function of lots of stories. 

And yet, moralizing alone really flattens and reduces a story, in my view. And over time, unfortunately, in my culture, this moralizing has pushed relatively short and seemingly simple stories like this one into the realm of “good and acceptable stories for children,” as if adults have already learned the lesson- ha ha– or can’t learn from such a story or shouldn’t be expected to because a goddess– who clearly doesn’t exist, right?, is part of the plot.

Well, I’d like to think about this story and the moral a bit more.

There are many stories about greed, the problem of greed and the adjacent crimes that greed can motivate. Across cultures and throughout time, we counsel ourselves and others about the problem of greed and the importance of honesty. Greed may be the most common character flaw in our story traditions, a greed for money and material things, power, status, even spiritual insight. It seems to be an enduring problem or weakness in human nature, something that most if not all of us, must confront.  Why is that do you think? What harm does greed cause?

On the social level, greed and dishonesty are ways that we can hurt other people and damage the community. We see examples of this all around us. The people who have so much want more. They don’t seem to care about others and the authorities that would check the greed aren’t carrying out. this responsibility effectively. 

In stories, the authority who would see the greed, judge character, and offer punishment or reward is often a king. Someone in charge of the social order who has civil authority and maybe divine responsibility as well. In this story, the authority is a goddess. A goddess who lives beneath a pool of water, and rises up in a mist in response to cries for help in a time of need. Who might she be and does this face and form of authority add anything to the story?

In my mind, the goddess suggests that greed is more than a social ill. The goddess is supernatural, she lives in one of the other realms. Maybe she’s an embodiment of a cosmic principle or the enforcer of a natural law. Or maybe we imagine her as a spirit guide, or conscience, or some other aspect of self. Some face of the mystery that is behind the visible world most of the time. Unlike a king or other mortal, the goddess can’t be deceived. These interpretations add a spiritual dimension to the problems of honesty and greed. 

And I’ll speak about one other element in the story, the axe. The axe, part of human life since Neolithic times, one of the few implements that can be used as both a tool and a weapon. The mythological background of the axe begins with what they allow us to do: cleave, sever, split. And taking this metaphorically: divide, discriminate. The axe as symbol is connected to the faculty of reason, and the axe head or blade is linked to the human head. 

Interesting to consider that the honest woodcutter loses his head accidentally, and it falls into the pool of water and is returned to him by the goddess, along with a lasting material prosperity and spiritual wealth, and the joyful gratitude that he and his wife actively cultivate. I think these are meanings that we can attach to the golden axe beyond the literal presence of such a tool. The golden axe isn’t used to cut wood and yet the wood cutter and his wife work with it every day. The other woodcutter breaks off his own head so to speak, because he wants more, wants something other than what he has, and loses it.

The axe is also associated with both the sky gods and their lightening which cleaves the heavens, and the Mother Goddess with her double-headed axe, the labrys which cuts both ways, the shape of which forms the shape of infinity. Etymologically, the “labrys” is the root of our word “labyrinth,” a guided journey into the otherworld or movement into center of self and back out again. I notice that when the goddess disappears, the old woodcutter asks himself if the whole thing was a dream. But no, the golden axe and his steel axe head are evidence to the contrary. Not a dream, or maybe he made that journey in and has arrived in this world again?

I’m reminded of a Greek version of this story. In the Greek version, Hermes assumes the role of the goddess. Hermes, the trickster god, the psychopomp who escorts souls between the realms. God of the crossroads, the place where we choose our path. The mediator of new meanings. This is the authority who awards the golden axe. Hermes, as in “hermeneutics,” the art of interpretation, which is a stance, a perspective, the way that we inhabit a story. The way that we choose to see our own story.

If greed and the dishonesty that it inspires are problems today, social and spiritual problems that have always been with us, well, do we have a sense of the root cause?

Is it a sense of lack that can’t be satisfied? An inability to have confidence in “enough”? Trouble trusting life? Looking in the wrong places for value and safety? And what is the antidote?

I think of the old wood cutter in his favorite spot, noticing the beauty of the place, the trees and the breeze, the clouds and the stillness of the water. The joy that he seemingly brought to his task, even though it was extremely hard work. 

The old woodcutter and his wife were very poor. Their security was precarious and yet he doesn’t seem to have been tempted for even a moment, to claim the golden ax as his own. Did he do that because he has such a deep moral sense of right and wrong? Or to put it in another way, was his commitment to what he understood as right action so steadfast because he knew the outer law of right and wrong, or because he didn’t suffer from a sense of lack that could fuel greed and that dishonesty?

Before the arrival of the golden axe, before he even knew there was such a thing, the old woodcutter was satisfed with his lot. He had food and shelter. His wealth was in his enjoyment of the world and even the physicality of his work. In the life and love that he shared with his wife and neighbors, with whom he was on good terms. As far as our old honest wood cutter was concerned, the only lack, the only problem that needed to be solved, was how to get his steel axe head so he could continue to cut wood, feed himself and his wife, live his life. Other than that, apparently, he had what he needed. He wasn’t going to ask for more.

Despite his relative material wealth, the other wood cutter did not.

Where am I in this story? This is, of course, the question. If I am honest, does my honesty stem from a place of strength, adequacy, and inner wealth or a fear of being caught doing wrong? Or maybe some self-righteousness?

Many of us go through some times of scarcity, when we feel we simply do not have enough. These can be scary times. You may be in one of those right now, which makes it all the more interesting, pressing even, to consider where that feeling of sufficiency and wealth resides for you.

Where do you find it? 

The material world is important. Food and shelter and healthcare and the rest. And yet sufficiency in those areas of life isn’t always enough either, is it? What gives you a sense of enough? If you were the old wood cutter, would you be able to resist falsely claiming the golden axe as your own? Where would that strength come from?

I want to pause here for a brief announcement, a welcome to new subscribers and shout out to my patrons. I do have one more thought or rather, a story image to share with you so hang with me. 

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Now, I recently read the novel Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar. You may be familiar with this wok as it’s attracted lots of attention and won some awards. For me, the story was a meditation on what makes a life worth living and I was struck by this conversation between two of the characters near the end of the book. This brief passage feels relevant to what we’ve been talking about today, so let me read it to you:

“There’s this story I read one time, some old-school Muslim fairy tale, maybe it was a discarded hadith I guess, but it was all about the first time Satan sees Adam. 

Satan circles around him, inspecting him like a used car or something, this new creation — God’s favorite, apparently. 

Satan’s unimpressed, doesn’t get it. 

And then Satan steps into Adam’s mouth, disappears completely inside him and passes through all his guts and intestines and finally emerges out his anus. And when he gets out, Satan’s laughing and laughing. Rolling around. He passes all the way through the first man and he’s rolling around laughing, in tears, and he says to God, ‘THIS is what you’re made? He’s all empty! All hollow!’ 

He can’t believe his luck. How easy his job is going to be. 

Humans are just a long emptiness waiting to be filled.“

—from Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

A long emptiness waiting to be filled. In Akbar’s story, the question and the challenge that unites us is this: with what will you choose to fill your emptiness? An emptiness that comes with being human. Accepting it, living with it, filling it, this is how we realize our self and our humanity.

If we have a better understanding of our need for myth, and all that our old stories offer, we can live more satisfying lives. We can inhabit a better story and create a more beautiful, just and sustainable world. 

And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Please take good, good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.

Links:

The Magic Listening Cap by Yoshiko Ichida at Internet Archive

ISM and the Mythologium

Martyr! by Kevah Akbar

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