I was delighted to find this post on WordPress’s “Freshly Pressed” page where it deserves to be. Here’s a collection of essays on writing, more than half by writers whose names are household words (in literary households) – Robert Frost, Henry Miller, Susan Sontag, T.S. Eliot, Kurt Vonnegut, and Joan Didion among them. They all look compelling. I’m looking forward to starting a piece on structure in fairy tales by the editor of “The Fairy Tale Review.” Enjoy!
Tag Archives: stories
A teller of sacred stories
In 1965, a young New Jersey college student, in need of money for rent and tuition, took a weekend job as a tour guide at $25 a day, for a charter company that specialized in high school class trips to Washington, DC. The company gave him a binder of facts and statistics to learn, but the student, Robert Béla Wilhelm, quickly realized that only a story makes facts and statistics come alive.
Sixteen years later, Bob was a university professor and had written his PhD dissertation on the craft and philosophy of storytelling. His wife, Kelly’s, PhD centered on travel and leisure. Both had grown up in storytelling families, and in 1981, they founded Storyfest Journeys (see their Facebook page too) with an inaugural trip to Ireland. After more than 50 storytelling oriented, small group tours to Europe, the Pacific, and destinations in the US, they are still at it. It was thanks to the Wilhelms that Mary and I traveled to Iceland in 2012.
Over time, Bob and Kelly have focused their energy on mentoring storytellers and specializing in sacred stories. I just received word that Bob has completed a 17 year labor of love that he calls, “Parables Today, A Weekly Lectionary Storybook.” For every Sunday of the three year lectionary cycle of the Catholic church, he presents stories from around the world along with artwork, and reflections. The tone is open and ecumenical; many of the tales will appeal to people of any faith or none at all. They are now freely available at sacredstorytelling.org.
I was thinking of Robert Wilhelm when I wrote my second post on this blog, which featured a poem called “Story Water” by Rumi. I think it’s safe to say that Robert has carried on Rumi’s tradition, which centers on the understanding that our spiritual dreams and longings are woven of stories. Abstract understanding may sometimes move the heart, but more often it is The Prodigal Son, or Arjuna at Kurukshetra, or Coyote coming along that opens our eyes of understanding.
If you love stories, take a look at the stories that Robert Wilhelm loves.
Neil Gaiman on libraries, reading, and daydreaming
Neil Gaiman visited China in 2007 for the first ever, party-approved, Science Fiction and Fantasy Convention. He asked a top official what had changed; in the past, these genres had been disparaged. The official said his government had realized they were good at making other people’s inventions, but they didn’t invent or imagine new things themselves.
“So they sent a delegation to the US, to Apple, to Microsoft, to Google,” Gaiman explained, “and they asked the people there who were inventing the future about themselves. And they found that all of them had read science fiction when they were boys or girls.”
Gaiman told this story while giving the 2013 Reading Agency annual lecture on the future of reading and libraries. The Reading Agency is a British charity that supports libraries and literacy programs, with the mission of giving everyone “an equal chance in life by helping people become confident and enthusiastic readers.” Another story Gaiman told underscores the importance of the Agency’s efforts. In New York, he once attended a talk on private prisons – one of America’s growth industries. In trying to predict the need for future facilities, prison industry officials have developed a simple algorithm based on one key factor – the percentage of 10 and 11 year olds who can’t read.
Gaiman spoke at length of fostering not just the ability to read, but the love of reading. There are no bad authors or bad books for children, he said. Adults can destroy a child’s love for reading by giving them “worthy-but-dull books…the 21st-century equivalents of Victorian “improving” literature. You’ll wind up with a generation convinced that reading is uncool and worse, unpleasant.” Everyone is different and will find their way to the stories they like and need.
Because written fiction, as opposed to television or movies, requires our imagination to turn the authors words into a vivid world, we return to our own world as a slightly different person, with an awareness of other points of view. Reading fosters empathy, Gaiman said, and:
“Empathy is a tool for building people into groups, for allowing us to function as more than self-obsessed individuals…You’re also finding out something as you read vitally important for making your way in the world. And it’s this: the world doesn’t have to be like this. Things can be different.”
In his inspiring lecture, Gaiman talked at length of his love for libraries and how critical it was for his own development to have supportive librarians at the small library near his home while growing up – librarians who simply wanted books to be read and showed him how to use inter-library loan when he finished all the local books on vampires, ghosts, and witches. When government officials close libraries as cost saving measures, “they are stealing from the future to pay for today.”
Gaiman expressed what he believes to be our responsibilities to children and to our future. Reminding the audience that everything made by humans begins with imagination, we have a responsibility to use and foster our imagination of a better world than the one we found.
Gaiman ended with a quote from Albert Einstein. When asked how to foster intelligence in children, the great scientist said, “If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”
Stories that make the world
On saturday, an acquaintance and I met at a local park to discuss some things of mutual interest. It was a stunning fall day, with temperature in the low 80’s, so we sat for several hours at a picnic bench surrounded by tall oaks.
I met this man just a few months ago, and during the conversation, it became clear that his political views and mine are polar opposites. We mentioned them but didn’t argue, for we had other things to discuss. Besides, by then some people nearby had a birthday barbecue going, and we were both distracted from politics by the smells. When someone said, “Anyone else want a burger?” I was sorely tempted to raise my hand.
Later though, I reflected on how the two of us could hold such different narratives of the same recent events. The poet, Muriel Rukeyser’s phrase, “The universe is made of stories” came to mind, as it often does, for it summarizes a key observation of two disciplines that have deeply shaped my world view, eastern philosophy and depth psychology:
- “The Buddhist does not inquire into the essence of matter, but only into the essence of the sense perceptions and experiences which create in us the idea of matter.” – Lama Angarika Govinda, 1969.
- “Every notion in our minds, each perception of the world and sensation in ourselves must go through a psychic organization in order to “happen” at all.” – James Hillman, 1975.
Such statements may seem too lofty for a number of common experiences, especially things like physical pain, even the sliver I have in a finger from hauling firewood onto the back porch. Not long ago, however, I came upon a concrete example of how the mind creates reality.
A contemporary Tibetan lama spoke of an experience we all went through in learning to read. One day when we were young, a teacher drew three marks on the board (or our parents did, or we saw it on Sesame Street). That teacher then said something that changed our world forever: “This is the letter A.”
From that moment on, the letter “A” existed for us, and it always appears to exist “out there,” in the world, when in fact, all that’s “out there” are three lines in a specific pattern. “A” exists only in the minds of those who have learned certain alphabets – a person who doesn’t read or only reads Chinese would not be able to find it.
This small story about the letter “A” parallels the complex stories we create, borrow, and use to make the sense of the world. Sometimes, like this past saturday, when it seems like the person you’re talking to comes from an alternate universe, it’s because they do – not a universe we could travel to with warp drive, but one that is simply constructed of very different stories.
Things you may not know about Winnie- the- Pooh
When I was young, I loved Winne-the-Pooh. There was a time when I carried my little volume – illustrated by Shephard, of course – everywhere. This fine article was posted on “The View from Sari’s World” on August 21, Christopher Robin Milne’s birthday. It’s filled with interesting facts about the historical Pooh and Christopher Robin, as well as the real Hundred Acre Wood and Poohsticks bridge. Enjoy!
Christopher Robin Milne was born on August 21, 1920, so what better day to celebrate the world’s favorite bear!
Winnie-the-Pooh is unarguably one of the most recognizable characters in children’s literature, as are his friends: Christopher Robin, Piglet, Eeyore, Tigger, Rabbit, Kanga, Roo, and Owl. Generations of children (including my own) have loved Winnie-the-Pooh, the Best Bear in All the World. To celebrate the birthday of the little boy Christopher Robin Miline and his favorite toy I give you:
Things you may not know about Winnie- the- Pooh
Winnie -the- Pooh was the name of the “Bear of little brain” in the stories created by A.A. Milne. A.A Milne’s son Christopher had a teddy bear who Winnie the Pooh was created after. He named his teddy Winnie after a Canadian black bear he saw at the Zoo in London. The real life bear was actually from the town of Winnipeg…
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The churchyard horror
Tis the season for chills up the spine, and this is great tale for a windy October night – another wonderful story from Freaky Folktales.
I have studied all manner of ghost and demon in my quest to better understand this realm betwixt Heaven and Hell but there is little in this study that has proved more intriguing — and downright flesh-creeping — than that of the Croglin vampire. On a dark autumnal day such as this, having struggled against sheets of rain and the swirl of stray leaves in the lonely path across the cemetery, my mind creeps towards that of a real churchyard horror, set upon the Lancashire moorlands.
It happened in the last century. Croglin Low Hall was a low, one-storeyed house on a slope looking down its gardens and cross a small park to the churchyard two hundred yards away. Along the front of the house ran a wooden verandah, like an African stoep. Two brothers and a sister took the house for the summer. I will not give their names…
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Face Rock, Bandon, Oregon
From this perspective, it’s easy to see how Face Rock, got it’s name. Legend says that long ago, Chief Siskiyou from the mountains came to the sea to trade with the four tribes that lived in this region. Warriors stood on the bluffs above the ocean fearing that the evil sea-spirit, Seatka might cause trouble.
Siskiyou’s daugher, Princess Ewauna, was not afraid of the spirit, and one night, when the moon was full, she slipped away from camp with her faithful dog and a basket with her cat and kittens nestled inside. She went swimming, farther and farther from shore, ignoring the warning barks of her dog. Seatka captured the princess.
Carrying the basket of cats, the dog swam out to Ewauna and bit the evil Seatka. Howling, he shook off the dog and threw the cats into the sea. Seatka tried to make Ewauna look into his eyes, but she refused and kept her gaze on the moon. The dog ran on the beach howling, but in time, he, the cats, and Ewauna, still gazing up at the moon, were frozen into stone where they remain to this very day.
I first passed through Bandon, Oregon back in college days, and it’s one of those places that has drawn me back ever since. I took the current blog header photo two years ago at a spot about half a mile up the beach overlook trail.
With the wind off the sea and afternoon fog, it is downright chilly. I had almost forgotten what chilly is like, but I remembered this afternoon, rolling into town in cutoffs and t-shirt. It’s hard to pack for cold weather when it’s 100+ degrees outside, so tomorrow will likely involve shopping for a sweatshirt.
This will probably be a quiet week on thefirstgates, as we wander the shore, listen to the ocean, and eat cranberry oatmeal cookies.
See you then, with more stories and photographs.
Your Own Damn Life: an interview with Michael Meade in The Sun
Michael Meade is an author, storyteller, and a passionate advocate of soul values in a world that increasingly ignores them; I’ve written about Meade or mentioned him in half a dozen posts.
In The Water of Life (revised, 2006) he shares his discovery that stories can be a matter of life and death. As a teen in New York, when confronted by gang members from a rival neighborhood, Meade didn’t just lie his way out of serious injury or worse – he storied his way out, with an elaborate made-up tale that won over the assailants long enough for him to make his escape. Readers of my recent posts will recognize a thriving trickster in Meade when he was just a kid!
I recently found an interview between Michael Meade and John Malkin in the The Sun that is as timely today, or more so, than in November, 2011, when it was published. In the interview, “Your Own Damn Life,” Meade quotes an African proverb, “When death finds you, may it find you alive.” Alive, he goes on to say, “means living your own damn life, not the life that your parents wanted, or the life some cultural group or political party wanted, but the life that your own soul wants to live.”
In the past, meaningful stories could guide soul evolution, but now, with the culture and the natural world both in crisis, Meade points to our lack of coherent, guiding tales. A culture falls apart, he says, when youthful imagination and energy are stunted and when the traditional wisdom of elders is forgotten. At one extreme, “You’re not supposed to be worrying about the end of the world as a teenager; you’re supposed to be bringing your dream to it. The world seems old and troubled now, and the young are no longer allowed to be as young as they should be.” At the other extreme, we have a lot of “olders” but not many wise “elders.”
When traditional stories collapse, Meade says, the guiding and healing stories must come from within. “That means going to the core of your own life and finding the story seeded within.” Meade has tried to facilitate such explorations through his writings and talks, which first became known in the 80’s when he, James Hillman, and Robert Bly hosted a series of men’s conferences.
Meade continues to teach, write, and offer a variety of community services through the non-profit Mosaic Foundation he founded in Seattle where he lives. If you’ve read this far, you will find Meade’s interview in The Sun and the Mosaic page hightly rewarding and likely sources for new ideas.







