Click here to listen to Thieves, Tricksters, and Golden Plums in the season 1 archives on buzzsprout
“Pure plum trees lie everywhere on snow-covered mountains; elegantly they stand in the moonlit forests.” Gao Qi 14th century China
In the last podcast I told you the fairy tale of “The Three Feathers” and talked about the connection between gratitude, imagination, and possibility. This was an invitation to look beyond what you perceive to be a limited situation and actively entertain the unknown, to unleash the power of imagination and the magic that arises from a place of willing curiosity.
The story that I now offer, “The Old Thief and the Plum Seed,” extends those reflections in ways that I didn’t foresee. And that may be the point(!).
Trickster energy is at work in the world my friends. I hope this story enriches your perspective on our changing times and helps you find the opportunities.
May you have a joyful holiday season and smooth transition into the new year. You are the story circle dear listener, and it means everything to know that you are out there.
Thanks for listening and keep the mystery in your life alive.
Transcript for Thieves, Tricksters, & Golden Plums
Hello everyone, and welcome to Myth Matters, a bi-weekly podcast of storytelling and conversation about mythology, and why it’s important to our lives today. I’m your host and personal mythologist, Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide, beautiful, crazy world of ours you are part of this story circle,
In the last podcast I told you the fairy tale of “The Three Feathers” and talked about the connection between gratitude, imagination, and possibility. This was an invitation to look beyond what you perceive to be a limited situation and actively entertain the unknown, to unleash the power of imagination and the magic that arises from a place of willing curiosity.
I originally outlined a podcast for you about the winter solstice on December 21st. This is the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere and powerful a tipping point. In the literal experience of night and day we draw on metaphors of the light and darkness, not in the simplistic formulation of good and evil but rather the relationship, the cyclical dance between the two, and the mysterious way they contain the seed of the other as expressed in the yin yang symbol. This is the relationship between spiritual ascents and the soul movements to depth, the imperative to blossom, fruit, and flower—and the imperative for incubation and gestation.
Then I woke up one morning with the feeling that I needed to sit with a story called “The Old Thief and the Plum Seed.” I heard Michael Meade tell this story years ago and I worked with it in the early days of the Myth in the Mojave podcast. It wasn’t part of the plan but when a story calls you there are gifts to claim, and the Old Thief brought me a bit of gold from the dark that I want to pass on to you.
So, I invite you to take a breath, settle in, and listen to the story. Notice what sparks your interest or raises questions for you, as this moment or detail can be a valuable way into what the story hold for you, right now.
The Old Thief and the Plum Seed
Once, in a time much like this time, there was an old thief. He had stolen many things over the course of his life and he did it with such artful subtlety that he had never been caught. His neighbors had their suspicions about him but no one could be sure, he was so good at secrecy and the tricks of the trade.
One beautiful sunny day, the old thief went to the marketplace and stole some fresh green herbs. Who can say what attracted him to them, whether it was their color or scent, or some need he had to flavor a dish or make some medicine. But things did not go as planned. Maybe he had a moment of weakness. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was a moment of fate. But this time he was caught red-handed, slipping the herbs into the folds of his robe. He was taken before the judge, who had often wondered if he would ever see the man in his courtroom, and a heavy fine was levied against him.
The fine was awfully large for such a small infraction. The herbs were not worth that much. No one imagined that the old thief could pay it and in fact, he could not. So, the authorities happily converted his sentence to a long term in prison. As his jailers led him through the massive gates and down the stone steps into the gloom, the old thief looked everything over very carefully, searching for any gap, the slightest weakness in the thick walls. Alas, the place was tight as a drum and presented no hope of escape.
Days and weeks passed. The old thief was alone in his cell in the darkness, his solitude interrupted only by the arrival, twice a day, of his meals.
One day, when the jailer came down the stone steps with his morning meal, the old thief was standing by the heavy door. “I must talk to the king” he said, “without delay.” “What does an old thief like you have to do with the king?” the jailer replied, “Forget it,” and he put down the food and turned to walk away. “I must see the king,” said the old thief, “because I have a gift for him. Something of extraordinary value, fit only for a king.” “You must be joking,” said the jailer and he went on his way. But then he started to think. Who knows what this old thief might have acquired over the years of skillful theft? And the king might give a good reward to someone who helped get this valuable gift into his royal hands.
The jailer went to the king and the following morning he told the old thief that his request would be granted. The morning after that, he came down to escort the old thief to the king. While the jailer unlocked the door to the cell, the old thief picked up a small wooden box and tucked it into the sleeve of his robe. Then he went with the jailer to the royal chambers. There sat the king on his fine throne with the queen at his side, surrounded by ministers and members of his cabinet and nobles and other fine people of the realm.
The king was a very busy man with important affairs needing his attention. He was used to receiving fine gifts and wondered what a lowly thief could possibly have to offer him. He impatiently waved his hand at the old thief and said, “Come here man and let’s see what you’ve got.” The old thief did as he was bid. Bowing low he said, “For you my majesty,” and handed the king the wooden box. The king took the box with a slight frown and opened it. Inside was a dry plum pit. That was all.
The king was furious when he opened the little wooden box and found only a dry plum pit rattling around inside. “Why, this is just an ordinary plum pit” he exclaimed, “Is this some kind of a joke? Who do you think you are, to waste my time with this foolishness!” and he ordered the jailer to take the old thief back to his gloomy cell.
“Wait,” said the old thief. “It’s true that this is a plum pit, but it is not just an ordinary plum pit. When this plum pit is planted a sapling will spring up in just a few days and quickly grow into a tree, and in just a few days more flowers and then fruit will appear and these will be plums of gold. Whoever plants this tree will reap a golden reward and be wealthy all of his days. Surely this is a gift fit for a king.”
The king thought about this for a moment. “If what you say is true,” he said to the old thief, “and this seed is magical and produces plums of gold, then why haven’t you planted the pit yourself?” “Well,” said the old thief, “the tree will only sprout if the one who plants it has a clear conscience and has never stolen or cheated another. Clearly, I do not qualify but surely you do, my king.”
The king thought about the deals that were made in the back rooms of the castle. “I’ve never had a green thumb,” he said, and turning to the queen handed the pit to her. “You plant this my dear.” The queen thought about her secret liaisons and private plots and she turned to the Prime Minister who stood beside her and handed the pit to him. “You deserve this reward far more than I,” she told him. The Prime Minister took the pit and promptly handed it to the Treasurer. “I do believe that you are better suited for this task,” he said.
The Treasurer gave a slight smile (or perhaps it was a grimace) and handed the plum pit to the Minister of War, who handed it to the Chief Jailer, who handed it to the Minister of Justice, and so it went until the plum pit passed through every hand and ended up again, with the old thief. “Apparently there is no one here qualified to plant this plum tree,” he said, “although I am the only one in jail.”
The room was very quiet. At last the king said, “You have given us a gift today, a gift for the entire realm.” He called the ministers together and they all pitched in to pay the old thief’s fine.
The old thief carefully placed the plum pit back into the old wooden box, shut the lid, and placed it in the folds of his robe. “Can that pit really produce golden fruit?” the king asked him. The old thief smiled and walked away a free man.
And that’s the end of the story.
Now, let’s take a look at several of the players in this story. First, what do we make of the Old Thief? He seems to have had a revelation about himself and his situation during those long days in a dark cell but we don’t have much information about that process, so let’s consider his actions and the trick that he played—it was a trick, don’t you think?–on the king and his court, and how he orchestrated his freedom.
The old thief behaves like the mythic figure or archetype commonly called a “Trickster.” Every mythic personage is an imaginal perspective, a particular way of viewing the world and life that contains a set of possibilities, and this is true of the Trickster. Now, earlier this year, I created several podcasts for you based on gods and goddesses in the ancient Greek pantheon, and explored the way of being and life perspective that they personify. For example, Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, introduces us to a life devoted to beauty, sensuality, sexual expression, and love for specific persons, places, and things.
In the case of the Trickster, there is a restlessness fueled by appetite and curiosity, and a creativity that finds opportunity in everything because he is not limited by convention, expectations, or dualisms. Destruction and creativity—a dualism that we rely on frequently–these are not different phases in the cycle for Trickster. They are the same thing.
Tricksters are an important part of myths and mythological pantheons around the world because Trickster energy disrupts the status quo, thereby instigating cultural and personal renewal. The Trickster opens the door to change by initiating a creative evaluation of our circumstances. The disruption is often uncomfortable, even frightening, because it shakes our complacency and calls into question our cherished perceptions of self and community identity. The neglected aspects of our lives, the questions that we resist posing, let alone answering, rise to the surface.
Right now, everywhere, in every corner of the globe and aspect of life, I see the trickster energy at work, pushing us past old dualities and oppositions, revealing the dysfunction in our ideas and corruption in our institutions, pushing us then, toward the creation of something new. Will the building of new walls, for example, inspire a world in which the current concept is meaningless?
Tricksters play tricks, and these tricks involve breaking the rules, usually lying, cheating, and stealing. One result of these tricks is a more conscious examination of the rules and the authority behind them. This examination might lead to a reaffirmation of the rule that strengthens the commitment to uphold it. It might lead to a refinement of the rule, to an admission of nuances and complexity. It might lead to a new rule. It may also lead to the realization that rules are an imperfect solution to a dynamic situation. That it’s the best that can be done for now and let’s keep thinking, in other words. Many possibilities.
Through his trick with the magical plum pit, the old thief in our story asks the authorities, the holders of power, the established order in other words, “which of you is not a cheat, liar, or thief?” Answer: everyone is guilty! Once their hypocrisy is gently exposed, the king and his minions pay the thief’s fine and release him, the story ends. As listeners we could also step away, satisfied by our understanding of the obvious moral lesson, but is this the end of the inquiry? No. Let’s take it a bit further.
The trickster, the old thief, did steal things from his neighbors. Was this always harmless? Is stealing a crime? Does the hypocrisy of the king and his ministers change this? How do you feel about the king and his court paying the old thief’s fine? The actions of a trickster reveal personal and cultural constructs, that is the ideas, beliefs, definitions, values, and judgments that shape our world. Theft provokes examination of ideas about ownership and property and what can be stolen from us, also notions of abundance and scarcity, judgments about who deserves what, identity, and much more.
What does it mean to be a law-abiding citizen, these days? Is your code of ethics static or evolving? What supports your belief in the correctness of your life and character, and are you willing to question all of it? Questions like these are a challenge and gift of the trickster energy that is synonymous with times of tumult, discord, creativity, and shifts in consciousness. Times like the ones that we are living in, my friends. Do you imagine yourself to be the thief or the king? How about both?
Who wants to be the busy king, impatiently granting a brief audience to the lowly prisoner we’ve locked away, out of sight and in the dark? The “king” and his court represent the established order, the laws and hierarchy that govern daily existence that are imposed upon us and the system we have internalized to govern ourselves. These are different and yet related realms. The quality of one determines the integrity of the other. Why does the king grant the old thief’s wish? Greed? Curiosity? When his evasions prove futile, does he accept the larger lesson and entertain the larger questions posed? The story implies that he does because he calls the lesson a “gift,” but what do you think, and how does this story challenge your king?
And then, there is the plum tree. Why a plum pit and a plum tree, and not an apricot or cherry, or some other type of seed? This choice isn’t random. There is a mythology of trees as there is a mythological context for all beings that share this planet with us. They are the ground of human experience, the source of our images, metaphors, and narratives. Trees provide so much; shade and shelter, home for many insects and birds and other creatures, fuel and material, flowers, fruit, the song of the wind through the leaves, more forms of beauty than I can count. They are teachers and partners on this breathing planet, an integral piece in the intelligent web of life. Different trees have different meanings and stories all around the world.
Plum trees are important in the cultures of China and Japan, the part of the world that is the likely source of this story. The plum tree flowers and fruits early. It blossoms in the cold and flowers appear before the leaves, signaling the end of winter and the promise of spring. When the flowers bloom, a lovely scent fills the air. In Chinese philosophy, the plum represents patience and endurance, and beauty that survives the most adverse circumstances.
The Mandarin word for “plum” is “Lǐzǐ.” “Li” means “clinging radiance,” clarity, and the plum tree inspired the painting and poetry of many spiritual seekers for centuries. The Zen Buddhist master Dogen invoked the plum tree as a metaphor for Shakyamuni Buddha (the name for Buddha before his enlightenment). I’ll post a link to this short teaching, which I found on the website “On the Way, the Daily Zen Journal,” with the transcript to this podcast, on the mythicmojo.com website. Here’s a snippet. Master Dogen tells us:
“This old plum tree is boundless […] Its whirling, miraculous transformation has no limit. Furthermore, the treeness of the great earth, high sky, bright sun, and clear moon derives from the treeness of the old plum tree. They have always been entangled, vine with vine.”
Another Chinese teacher who was infused with trickster energy, like our Old Thief, was the philosopher sage Lao Tzu. Lao Tzu lived in 6th century China and is the accepted author of the Tao te Ching, the central text in Taoism. Mystery surrounds his life— the details were not considered important enough to record for many years—and much of what exists today is legend. According to one myth, Lao Tzu was born under a plum tree and took his original/birth name from the tree-, “Li Erh.” He was not called “Lao Tze,” which means “Old Master,” until later in life.
Some say that the Emperor of China decided to appoint the wisest men to his highest court and insisted that Lao Tzu accept this position. The old master insisted that he was not the right man for the job because he did not believe in the efficacy of laws to uphold ethical conduct. Nevertheless, he agreed and one day a thief was brought before the court. Lao Tzu listened to the case and then sentenced both parties, the thief and the wealthy man who accused him, to several months in jail. The rich man protested. He was the injured party after all! “You’re right,” Lao Tzu said, “I am being unfair. You should be imprisoned for twice as long because you oppress people with your greed. Your desire for money creates the poverty that makes thievery necessary.”
Stories like this are attributed to other teachers so I can’t vouch for the authenticity of the tale, but it does convey the spirit of Lao Tzu’s teachings and of Taoism. Chinese philosophy can be understood as a conversation between Taoism, with its optimistic view of human nature and call to harmonize by following the dynamic rules of the natural world, and the teachings of Confucius. Confucius was a law and order man, inherently conservative, and stories suggest a friendly rivalry between the two men that reveal Lao Tzu’s trickster nature.
I lifted this verse from one of my favorite poems by writer and poet Greg Gilbert, to convey something of Lao Tzu’s trickster energy to you. The poem is titled “Lao Tzu Would Tell Us” and can be found in his collection, “Afflatus;”
“[…] Even now, Lao Tzu might say
That the fishes of state are rotten at the head
Or that standing on point can lead to
Hammer toes. He might remind us of
The transitory nature of the unmovable.
It is said that a young Confucius
Once sought out Lao Tzu
And discovered himself ill prepared
For the feast of a grain of rice.
Afterwards, confused and consternated
Confucius disclaimed the Old Man
Saying, avoid him. He is dangerous!”
Thank you for that, Greg Gilbert. Lao Tzu and all who carry the trickster are dangerous all right—to our pretensions and illusions. As Confucius discovered, no one is above or beyond such teachings.
In our story, the old thief says that whoever is pure enough to plant the plum tree pit will reap a golden reward. The king in the story, with his ties to the material world and visions of wealth and power, may have imagined that the tree yielded gold plums, fruit of valuable metal. This is where I went in my own thoughts and perhaps you did too. It’s natural enough in the context of a story about a thief and they are called “gold plums” and yet, the plum tree points toward the possibility of other rewards, of a wealth that cannot be exhausted, and a world in which the concept of theft is meaningless.
In this time of endings and beginnings, manifest in the solstice and the threshold of a new year and a new decade, I offer this story to you with my heartfelt encouragement that you be the thief and a wise king in your life, teacher and student, as that boundary like all others, is tested and dissolved in the days to come.
I hope that you’ll bring your imaginative powers to the image of the magical plum pit and have the faith to plant your tree. We’re perfectly imperfect beings in a perfectly imperfect world my friends. That shouldn’t keep us from acting, and if our vision for the coming year and beyond does not test and teach us, as well as inspire us, the tree will not grow and bear its golden fruit—and neither will we.
The winter darkness that surrounds us is an invitation to dream and plant deep. Spring will be here soon and we’re making it up as we go friends, so let’s make something beautiful.
That’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters for this decade! In recognition of my own need for rest and reflection, I’m taking a short break and Season 2 of Myth Matters will begin on January 16th. By all indicators, 2020 will be as jampacked as 2019, so I encourage you to subscribe via email on the mythicmojo.com website or your preferred podcast platform, so you receive an announcement when Season 2 is launched.
Myth Matters is listener supported and I’m grateful for all of you who listen, who share this podcast with others, post positive reviews, email me with questions and comments, and provide financial support through patreon or bandcamp.
You are the story circle dear listener, and it means everything to know that you are out there.
May you have a joyful holiday season and smooth transition into the new year. Please tune in next time, and until then, happy myth making and keep the mystery in your life alive.
Links to other content that you might like
Interview with Greg Gilbert on Myth in the Mojave (the previous name of this podcast) and a reading of the poem “Lao Tzu Would Tell Us” in its entirety:
On the Way: The Daily Zen Journal, link to Master Dogen’s teaching with the plum tree: https://www.dailyzen.com/journal/plum-blossoms
Want more? Link to Moon in A Dewdrop, Writings of Zen Master Dogen: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/086547186X/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=daizengif-20&camp=1789&creative=9325&linkCode=as2&creativeASIN=086547186X&linkId=9cf66f2d004638146c81239a6a1bf4f1
Music to inspire plum pit planting—-Sean Johnson and the Wild Lotus Band singing “Unity” on youtube:
