(9/11/02 5:22:23 am)
| Using Myth, Folklore, Fairy Tale, Fable to Cope...|
Finding it extremely difficult to turn everywhere and not find points of remembrance today, 9/11, I have decided to turn to myth and folklore to cope with the anniversary.
I've been reading the poems, letters, stories many of you contributed to *Indelible* and am still moved on so many levels.
Pandora has become my heroine, with her little box of Hope. Little Hope #2 sits on my shelf watching over all.
Bells everywhere are ringing (I live off of a Church Street), and I am listening to the calming rhythms of David & Steve Gordon's "Drum Medicine" as I gaze at the temple next door.
The concrete forest of Boston seems far away, and yet next door, as I remember every minute of this day last year.
Circles, spirals, linear years, Time is moving in all directions, and none at all. Time is marked with pauses, moments of reflection, the length of time it takes for a candle to burn or a tear to fall.
I am brought back to my hikes of Thumb Butte in March, when my feet found their story, when I found the connection between Arizona, New Hampshire's White Mountains, and Tolkien's Middle-Earth.
I am about to head out the door, to walk, to reflect, to regain my health, to see what the world holds for me today. My life, my career, my sense of self, are all at a threshold.
Perhaps I will end a journey begun a year ago. Perhaps I will continue one begun long ago. Perhaps I am starting a new journey.
But I am my own heroine and hero, mother and child, teacher and student. I am my own myth, my own story.
And now I shall go.
Edited by: Kerrie at: 9/11/02 7:14:13 am
(9/11/02 6:29:32 pm)
| Re: Using Myth, Folklore, Fairy Tale, Fable to Cope...|
you are your own heroine
i am my own magic
i write my saving grace
i hear the music of ages
and i feel no time
but the spiral conch shell
in slow motion
(9/12/02 3:00:11 pm)
| using fairy tales to cope|
Not long after the attacks last year, I read A.S. Byatt's collection _The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye_--which contains a certain story called "Dragons' Breath". It's about a town where everyone is bored, until a mysterious disaster happens. I was never quite clear on whether it was actually dragons, or just a volcanic eruption--the language leaves that open to discussion. But the point was that after the disaster, the town dealt with it by telling stories of heroism and luck, about survival and about those who died, and appreciated better what they had. The subject of the story is coincidental, as Byatt published it at least a year before 9/11/01, but it struck a chord with me anyway.
(9/12/02 5:34:53 pm)
| Using Myth, Folklore, fairy Tale...|
As someone who was personally affected by 9/11 (I worked at the WTC), I was curious what you were referring to when you mentioned "little Hope 2". Rebuilding and renewal are coming slow, at least in my life (I shake my fist at the gods!!) and even the word hope caused a little leap in me.
(9/12/02 7:33:10 pm)
| thanks heidi|
Thanks so much to Heidi for her hard work in giving so many people a place to share the fairytales and myths of native origin. It's just a uniquely lovely way to be able to share little bits of heritage without having to deal with the common frictions that so often divide us as humans.
Here's a thought from Gregory Orr:
"Rise now and strike your lyre
Sing what connects us
What no tooth can sever"
And one from Clarissa Pinkola Estes:
"In mythos and fairytales, deities and other great spirits test the hearts of humans by showing up in various forms to disguise their divinity. They show up in robes, rags, silver sandals, or with muddy feet. They show up with skin dark as old wood, or in scales made of rose petal, as a frail child, as a lime yellow old woman, as a man who cannot speak, or as an animal who can. These great powers are testing to see if humans have yet learned to recognise the greatness of soul in all it's varying forms."
Here is a good quote from Jeanette Winterson on forgiveness:
"In your own moment of silence on September 11th, forgive someone who has hurt you. Forgive yourself for something you did to another, and ask their forgiveness in return. If we could fill the day with forgiveness, it might make a difference.
It's worth a try."
And finally, one from Ender's Game:
"Come on" he said to Valentine one day. "Let's fly away and live forever."
"We can't," she said. "There are miracles even relativity can't pull off, Ender."
I guess we can't very well fly away, can we?
(9/17/02 7:31:17 am)
| Little Hope #2|
Little Hope #2 is a little elfin doll I won in a charity auction last year that raised funds after September 11th. She is a little reminder to me that there is always hope, however small, and always precious.
(9/17/02 8:55:29 am)
| Speaking of hope|
I was wondering if anyone had a favorite tale in which hope or hope personified plays a significant role. I know of Pandora. Any others?
(9/18/02 2:15:32 pm)
| Re: Speaking of hope|
Don't know if this is what you're looking for Jess, but the movie "La Vida e Bella" by Roberto Benginini is a good example of a man using myth and fable to create hope for his son's survival. I can't think of a book that personifies hope per se, although the book "Hotel New Hampshire" personifies Sorrow and I suppose the acts of the Berry family are an expression of hope.
(9/30/02 7:20:50 am)
| Subway Ad|
I thought you might be interested in the following ad appearing in the NYC subways. It's a public service ad from the department of mental health with a hotline number for people who are still coping with the events of last year. There are various quotations from various people. This morning I saw one that said:
"Ever since the attacks my son has been obsessed with the story of The Three Little Pigs. My counselor tells me this is because he draws comfort from the tale. No matter how they huff or puff, they will never blow this city down."
(10/1/02 3:37:22 am)
| Re: Subway Ad|
That is wonderful ad! And a great example, too, of a story that can be used to relate to the events. Thanks!
Just a note, on September 11th, I went for a walk with a red veil on as a cloak, carrying a basket of pieces dolls, small pins of candles, and copies of Indelible to share. Two women took pins, and I got lots of curious looks, a few smiles. September 11th was the birthday of my Nana, who died in the Spring of 2001. As Little Red, I journeyed for my Nana, and all grandmothers who have died, bringing a basket of goodies for the soul, and hopefully a respect for all veils, however they are worn.