Wassilissa the Beautiful
[...]
When the little girl was eight years old the mother fell ill, and before many days it was plain to be seen that she must die.
So
she called her little daughter to her, and taking a tiny wooden doll from under
the blanket of the bed, put it into her hands and said:
“My little Wassilissa, my dear daughter, listen to what I say, remember well my last words and fail not to carry out my wishes.
“I am dying, and with my blessing, I leave to thee this little doll. It is very precious for there is no other like it in the whole world.
“Carry it always about with thee in thy pocket and never show it to anyone. When evil threatens thee or sorrow befalls thee, go into a corner, take it from thy pocket and give it something to eat and drink.
“It will eat and drink a little, and then thou mayest tell it thy trouble and ask its advice, and it will tell thee how to act in thy time of need.”
So saying, she kissed her little daughter on the forehead, blessed her, and shortly after died.
[...]
So the Tsar and Wassilissa the Beautiful were married, and her father returned from the far-distant Tsardom, and he and the old woman lived always with her in the splendid Palace, in all joy and contentment.
And as for the little wooden doll, she carried it about with her in her pocket all her life long.
Iron John
[...]
On the third day the King had ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, “I cannot open the door even if I wished, for I have not the key.”
Then the wild man said, “It lies under thy mother’s pillow, thou canst get it there.”
The boy, who wanted to have his ball back, cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key. The door opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his fingers.
When it was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball, and hurried away.
The boy had become afraid; he called and cried after him, “Oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall be beaten!”
The wild man turned back, took him up, set him on his shoulder, and went with hasty steps into the forest.
[...]
The maiden laughed, and said, “He does not stand much on ceremony, but I have already seen by his golden hair that he was no gardener’s boy,” and then she went and kissed him.
His father and mother came to the wedding, and were in great delight, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear son again.
And as they were sitting at the marriage-feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a stately King came in with a great retinue.
He went up to the youth, embraced him and said, “I am Iron John, and was by enchantment a wild man, but thou hast set me free; all the treasures which I possess, shall be thy property.”
Lees beide verhalen.
En deze overwegingen.
Maar word eerst helder.
Houd op pijn te vermijden.
Ga zo nodig in therapie.
Lees nog eens Ken Wilber.
Begin met
zen.