We are an impossibility in an impossible universe.” ― Ray Bradbury
The impossibilities of our existence are more than a matter of statistics and probabilities.
Our stories remind us of the tensions that we are called to live, our impossible longings, and the contradictions that are part of being human.
They also tell us that wonder is essential to approaching life with a sense of adventure, and to cultivating the curiosity and compassion that we need to stay open to the marvelous richness of our experience.
A sense of wonder is what inspires me to share the story that I have for you today. It’s a Norwegian fairy tale called “Valemon the White Bear King,” and it begins with a great and beautiful mystery, a powerful dream.
Transcript of Wonder and Valemon the White Bear King
Hello, and welcome to Myth Matters, storytelling and conversation about mythology and what myth can offer us 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 we talked about the Greek myth of Narcissus and the myriad possibilities, questions, and meanings that can be found in this story. The Greeks knew that the dictum “know thyself” was fraught with danger and freighted with possibility. They inscribed these words on the doorway to the temple at the Oracle of Delphi. Pilgrims came to consult the oracle to discover the cause of their troubles or to unlock the secrets of their fate. In the ancient myths that we know today, the words of the oracle did not bring lasting peace or relief.
Likewise, our stories remind us of the tensions that we are called to live, our impossible longings, and the contradictions that are part of being human.
In the poem “Self Portrait” that I shared with you a few weeks ago, David Whyte writes, “I want to know if you are willing to live, day by day, with the consequence of love and the bitter, unwanted passion of your sure defeat.” There it is. Love, bitterness, passion, and defeat. Are we willing? Can we stay in touch with the mystery and the gift of being here? As Ray Bradbury said, “We are an impossibility in an impossible universe.” The impossibilities are more than a matter of statistics and probabilities.
As the old stories and the wise ones everywhere tell us, wonder is essential to approaching life with a sense of adventure, and to cultivating the curiosity and compassion that we need to stay open to the marvelous richness of our experience and all of those impossibilities.
A sense of wonder is what inspires me to share the story that I have for you today. It’s a Norwegian fairy tale called “Valemon the White Bear King,” and it begins with a great and beautiful mystery, a powerful dream. I love this story for the luminosity of the images, the tantalizing strangeness, and the magic. Maybe you’ll find some wonder in it too.
I invite you to relax and listen to the story. Let your imagination roam and take you where you need to go right now.
“Valemon the White Bear King”
Once upon a time there was a king who had three daughters. He loved them all but the youngest was his favorite. She was as fair and sweet as bird song. One night this princess dreamt of a beautiful golden wreath. It was so lovely that she woke up the next morning with a deep longing to possess it. Alas, this was not possible. She grew despondent and began to pine away.
The king noticed this and asked her what was wrong. “Oh, my dear father,” she said, “I saw a most lovely golden wreath in a dream and now I cannot live without it.” When the king heard this he resolved to get her such a wreath. He made up a copy and sent it out to goldsmiths across the land with the request that they make one in gold just like it. The goldsmiths worked day and night and they made a great number of wreaths but the princess did not accept any of them. Some she looked at and threw away, others she didn’t bother with at all.
One day she went into the forest and saw a large white bear. The bear had the wreath from her dream between its paws and was playing with it. “Dear bear,” the princess said to him, “That wreath is so beautiful. May I have it?” “No, I don’t think so,” answered the bear. The princess persisted. “My father is king,” she told him, “I can give you money or jewels or even a fine house in exchange for that wreath.”
“The wreath cannot be had for money,” said the bear, “There is only one thing that I can accept…” “You mean…?” asked the princess. “Yes,” said the bear. “The wreath cannot be had for money, but only in exchange for yourself.”
“Life is not worth living without this wreath,” thought the princess. “Yes,” she said. The white bear gave her the golden wreath and they agreed that he would come to. fetch her in three days, that is, on Thursday.
When the king’s youngest daughter came home with the wreath she was very happy and this made her father the king quite happy too. The princess told him how she had met the white bear and about the deal that she had made but the king felt it would be a simple matter to keep the bear away. He had a fine castle and guardsmen and an army after all.
On Thursday the bear came for the princess. The king’s guardsmen stood at the gate but the white bear let out a tremendous roar—BARRAAAAGH–and no one could stand up to him. Everybody fell down and the weapons were of no use. The bear went into the palace. Seeing this disaster, the king sent his eldest daughter out to the white bear. “You are going to get married,” the king told her. The white bear took her onto his back and rushed away with her.
The bear ran through the forest for an hour or so. Then he turned to the girl and said, “Tell me, have you ever sat more softly?” “Why yes,” she said, “I sat more softly on my mother’s lap.” “And tell me,” said the bear, “have you ever seen more clearly?” “Why yes,” she answered, “I’ve seen more clearly from my father’s tower.” “Then you’re not the right one,” the bear said. He dumped her on the ground right there and ran on without her, leaving the miserable princess to find her own way back home.
The next Thursday the bear came again for the princess. This time the king’s guardsmen stood at the gate and half of the army circled the palace but the white bear let out a tremendous roar—BARRAAAAGH–and no one could stand up to him. Everybody fell down and the weapons were of no use. The bear went into the palace. Seeing this, the king sent his next eldest daughter out to the white bear. “You are going to get married,” the king told her. The white bear took her onto his back and rushed away with her.
The bear ran through the forest for an hour or so. Then he turned to the girl and said, “Tell me, have you ever sat more softly?” “Why yes,” she said, “I sat more softly on my mother’s lap.” “And tell me,” said the bear, “have you ever seen more clearly?” “Why yes,” she answered, “I’ve seen more clearly from my father’s tower.” “Then you’re not the right one either,” the bear said. He dumped her on the ground right there and ran on without her, leaving this princess to find her own way back home.
On the third Thursday the bear came once again for the princess. This time the king’s guardsmen stood at the gate and the entire army circled the palace. But the white bear let out a tremendous roar—BARRAAAAGH–and once again, no one could stand up to him. Everybody fell down and the weapons were of no use. The bear went into the palace. Now the king had no choice. The youngest princess climbed onto the bear’s back and he rushed away with her.
The bear ran through the forest for an hour or so. Then he turned to the girl and asked “Tell me, have you ever sat more softly?” “Never” she said, “I have never sat more softly.” “And tell me, have you ever seen more clearly?” “No, never” she said, “I have never seen more clearly.” “You are the right one,” the bear said.
At last, they came to a magnificent castle. This castle was so fine that it made her father’s castle look like a grungy little cottage in comparison. The king’s daughter lived very well there. She had every luxury. The white bear was away during the day but he came back to her at night, and at night he was a man. There were no lamps in the castle, no candles, no lights of any kind so she did not see him. But she felt him and she knew that he was beautiful. He made love to her passionately and sweetly.
For three years all went as well as could be. But each year the princess had a child, and the bear spirited away the baby as soon as it was born. She started to become despondent and sad, and then more so, and then more so.
One night she said, “My husband, I want to go home and visit my family. I’ve been away for a long time and I spend so much of my time here alone.” Her husband was sorry to see her unhappy and willing to take her home for a visit. “But you must promise me one thing,” he said. “Don’t do what your mother suggests and listen to your father.” The princess agreed.
When she got home her family was happy to see her and asked many questions about her life and circumstances. One evening she sat with her parents and they asked her again about her husband, this white bear turned man turned bear again. “I don’t think this is safe,” said her mother. “How do you know that he won’t eat you one day? You must light a candle while he sleeps and take a good look at who you are dealing with.”
There were no candles in the castle of the white bear king her daughter told her. “Then I will give you this one and you must take it with you,” said her mother, and pressed a candle into her hand. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” said her father, “No good will come of this plan.” But the princess took the candle.
The white bear came to fetch her and they went back home to their castle. That night after he had fallen asleep, the king’s daughter lit the candle. She let the light shine down on him. He was very handsome, more handsome than she had even imagined. While she was gazing down at him a drop of the hot wax dripped onto his forehead and woke him up. “What have you done?” he said. “Now you have brought misfortune on us both. If you had only held out one more month I would have been freed. A troll-hag bewitched me, so that I’m a white bear during the day. But now it’s over with us and I must stay with her.”
The king’s daughter cried and begged him to stay but to no avail. He had to go. But when he finally rushed off in his bear shape she grabbed tight onto his fur and got onto his back. He ran for a long time and she held on although the branches whipped her face and the brambles cut her clothes. But in the end it was too much and she was so tired that she let go and fell off. She was exhausted and alone in the deep forest and could only go to sleep.
When she woke up she had no idea where she was. She set off into the forest in search of her husband. She walked all day and all night. At last, she came to a cottage where there lived an old crone and a pretty little girl. “Please tell me” she said, “have you seen anything of White-Bear-King-Valemon?” “Yes,” they answered, “but he ran by here so fast that you won’t catch up with him again.”
The little girl was playing with a pair of golden scissors. Strips of silk and velvet flew about when she clipped the air. Wherever the scissors were there was no lack of clothing. “I think,” the little girl said to the crone,” that we should give this poor woman the scissors. She has many hard miles to travel and needs them more than I do.” The crone agreed and they gave the golden scissors to the princess.
The king’s daughter said her thanks and then set off through the forest again. She walked all day and all night. At last, she came to a cottage where there once again lived an old crone and a pretty little girl. “Please tell me” she said, “have you seen anything of White-Bear-King-Valemon?” “Were you the one to have had him, maybe?” asked the old woman. “Yes” said the princess. “Well, yes we saw him,” they answered, “but he ran by here so fast that you won’t catch up with him again.”
The little girl was playing with a flask. Whenever she tipped the flask out poured whatever drink they wanted— cold water or iced tea or wine or a latte—-wherever the flask was, there was no lack of drink. “I think,” the little girl said to the crone,” that we should give this poor woman the flask. She has many hard miles to travel and needs it more than I do.” The crone agreed and they gave the flask to the princess.
The king’s daughter said her thanks and set off through the forest again. She walked all day and all night. At last, she came to a cottage where there once again lived an old crone and a pretty little girl. “Please tell me,” she said, “have you seen anything of White-Bear-King-Valemon?” “Were you the one to have had him, maybe?” asked the old woman. “Yes” said the princess. “Well yes we saw him,” they answered, “but he ran by here so fast that you won’t catch up with him again.”
The little girl was playing with a cloth. Whenever they said to it, “Cloth, spread, and deck thyself with every good dish!” it did so. Wherever the cloth was, there was no lack of good food. “I think,” the little girl said to the crone,” that we should give this poor woman the cloth. She has many hard miles to travel and needs it more than I do.” The crone agreed and they gave the cloth to the princess.
The king’s daughter said her thanks and set off through the forest again. She walked all day and all night. At last, she came to the foot of a steep mountain spur made of slippery glass. This mountain was so high and so wide that she couldn’t see an end to it. And it was slick.
There was a cottage there too, and an old woman. “Please tell me,” she said to the old woman, “have you seen anything of White-Bear-King-Valemon?” “Were you the one to have had him, maybe?” asked the old woman. “Yes” said the princess. “Well, he rushed by here yesterday, but he went so fast that you won’t catch up with him,” she said.
This cottage was full of ragged little children, and they all clung to their mother’s apron strings and cried for food. The king’s daughter got out the cloth and the flask and when the children were fed and happy, she clipped out clothing for them with the golden scissors. “Thank you” said the old woman. “You’ve been so kind to us that we must help you. My husband is a metal smith and when he returns I’ll ask him to forge iron claws for your hands and feet so you can climb up the glass mountain.”
This she did and thus equipped, the king’s daughter began her long climb without delay.
The king’s daughter crept and crawled up the mountainside the whole day and night. At just the moment when she thought she couldn’t lift her hand one more time she was so tired, she got to the top. There was a broad plain, with fields and meadows and a castle filled with workers of every kind. The king’s daughter went to the castle. “What is going on here?” she asked. This is the castle of the Troll-hag who bewitched White-Bear-King-Valemon she was told, and all of the activity was for their wedding, which was to take place in just three days.
Not good news for the king’s daughter but maybe all was not lost. “May I talk with the Troll-hag?” she asked. Not likely! Impossible, in fact. She looked up at the castle, then sat down under a window and got out the golden scissors. Snip, snip, snip and soon the ground around her was covered with fine garments. Silken clothing flew around her like a snow flurry. The Troll-hag saw this.
“How much do you want for those scissors?” she asked. “My tailors and seamstresses are working round the clock but there are just too many to be clothed.” “The scissors are not for sale for money,” answered the king’s daughter,” but I will trade them for one night with your sweetheart.” “Is that all,” said the Troll-hag. “You can stay with him tonight. Come to the castle at 8PM.”
But the Troll-hag went to Valemon at 7PM. “You better get your rest before our wedding night my sweet prince” she said, and gave him a sleeping potion. That night he could not be roused no matter how the king’s daughter shouted and cried. “I’m here, I’m here,” she said, but he did not hear her.
The next day the king’s daughter sat outside the window again and started pouring from the flask. It flowed like a brook, both beer and wine, and never ran dry. When the Troll-hag laid eyes on that, she wanted to buy it.
“How much do you want for that flask?” she asked. “They toil at the brewing and distilling around the clock but there are too many to drink.” “The flask is not for sale for money,” answered the king’s daughter,” but I will trade it for one more night with your sweetheart.” “Is that all,” said the Troll-hag. “Sure, you can stay with him tonight. Come to the castle at 8PM.”
But again, the Troll-hag went to Valemon at 7PM. “Our wedding night will be here soon my sweet prince” she said, “better get your strength up, heh heh heh,” and gave him a sleeping potion again, so the King’s daughter had no better luck that night. He could not be roused no matter how loudly she shouted and cried. “I’m here, I’m here.” but he did not hear her.
That night however, a group of carpenters was working in the room next door. They heard her crying and the next day they told the prince. “We heard a woman weeping in your room last night sir,” they said. “Strange, strange,” he replied. He wondered, could it be, that the princess was near? She must have come, the king’s daughter who was to have freed him.
The next day the king’s daughter sat outside the window again. When it was dinner time she said,” Cloth, spread thyself and deck thyself with every good dish!” Suddenly there was enough food for a hundred men, but the king’s daughter sat down alone. When the Troll-hag laid eyes on that, she wanted to buy it.
“How much do you want for that cloth?” she asked. “They cook and bake around the clock but there are too many mouths to feed.” “The cloth is not for sale for money,” answered the king’s daughter,” but I will trade it for one more night with your sweetheart.” “Is that all,” said the Troll-hag. “Sure, sure you can stay with him tonight. Come to the castle at 8PM.”
The Troll-hag went to Valemon at 7PM but this time he was on his guard. When she handed him the potion he said “Oh look honey, what is that out the window?” and when the Troll-hag turned and went to look he poured the potion onto the rug. Now the Troll-hag didn’t trust him any further than she could throw him. She took a darning needle and stuck it through his arm, to see if he was sleeping soundly enough. This really hurt but he didn’t move or make a sound.
When the king’s daughter came that night he was wide awake. They had a fine reunion and they had plans to make. They had to get rid of the Troll-hag before he would be free. This was the wedding day. Before the wedding a grand procession was planned and according to custom the bride would ride first. The procession crossed a bridge over a steep deep chasm. Valemon went to the carpenters and asked them to make a trap door on this bridge, and they agreed.
Later that day, the wedding procession began as scheduled, but when the Troll-hag started across with all her Troll-hag bridesmaids, the planks under them dropped open and they fell through. Down, down, down they fell into the chasm. The princess and Valemon and all the wedding guests ran back to the castle. They took as much of the Troll-hag’s gold and money as they could carry and rushed back to Valemon’s country to hold the real wedding. On the way, they stopped at the three cottages and fetched the three little girls, who were their children.
Back in their castle, they all lived happily ever after.
A dream of a gold wreath is a very big dream. A dream of the transcendent. A wreath like this speaks of perfection, wholeness, and divinity. Gold is the alchemical symbol of the great transformation of lead into gold; psychologically, the realization of highest potential. No wonder the princess cannot live without it, and her longing brings her courage. She not only goes with the bear, she aligns herself with him and with what will happen next.
What happens next might remind you of the story of “Eros and Psyche.” The princess leaves the container of the bear’s palace and returns home, where outside influences– in this case, her royal parents– activate the needed change. It is a needed change. Disruption often seems like a mistake and yet the princess must bring light to the situation. There is no new life there. And light is what reveals the shadow, and the shadow must be acknowledged, integrated.
There is no obvious taskmaster like Aphrodite in Psyche’s story, so what drives the princess on? Why didn’t she just go back to her loving parents? Is it love for Valemon the white bear king? Or is it the mysterious sense of destiny she feels about the wreath and the bear and the role she apparently plays in his fate? The wreath has dropped out of the story. I think this symbol is replaced with the coupling of princess and bear and the possibility that they will live the potential, the gold.
The bear, as teacher, totem, deity, and power figure is a common mythological character. I’m intrigued by the climb the princess must make up the glass mountain– what is that?– and how she becomes more like the bear when she acquires the set of iron claws that enable her to climb to the top. Is there a detail, an image in this story that glows for you? This is a portal into the story and your own psyche in this moment. What speaks to you? I encourage you to mediate on it a bit. If this seems self-indulgent well, how did the princess find the courage to climb onto the back of that white bear?
There are times when we act out of a deep sense of necessity, even if we have little faith in the outcome. Times when all we can do is show up and allow ourselves to be led, even when the initial exciting promise has evaporated into hardship. I’m reminded of when I started painting many years ago. I couldn’t explain the impulse. I knew nothing. But painting initiated a life-changing conversation between aspects of my psyche. It was soul work. Something that took me beyond what I thought knew and rekindled my sense of wonder at being alive.
Wonder is a powerful force. Wonder keeps us in touch with the mystery of our own being and it can unite us with others in common cause. Writer and activist Amy Irvine writes:
“Our most precious resource now is wonder. What we wonder about ignites our imagination, unleashes our empathy, fuels our ferocity. We fold in on ourselves, a thunderous, galloping gathering, a passionate, peopled storm, nearly indistinguishable from the ground on which it rains, on which it sprinkles seeds. This is how hope takes root. What springs forth are possibilities.”
Wonder is our most precious resource, my friend.
Before we part ways, I want to give a big welcome to new subscribers- Maya, Don, and Melanie and thank you to Stavros, for becoming a patron of Myth Matters on Patreon. Thank you for your support!
If you’re new to Myth Matters, I invite you to head over to the Mythic Mojo website, where you will find a transcript of this episode and the link to Myth Matters on Patreon. You will also find information about the other work that I do with people to use stories to gain insight into life.
I hope that Myth Matters provides you with a regular opportunity to step away from your routine for a little while, and the constant stream of news and information. To be informed and entertained, and to reflect on your situation in a different way. To see life through a different lens, one that reveals the wonder in the midst of hardship.
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–together– a more beautiful, just and sustainable world.
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, keep the mystery in your life alive.
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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 live a better story and create a more beautiful, just, and sustainable world. Together.
