Leaving Home: Adventures of a trickster tailor

In this episode, we take a look at the fairy tale "The Valiant Tailor" or the "The Brave Tailor," collected by the Brothers Grimm. Honestly, I almost dismissed this story as a bit too silly and I didn't like the tailor much at the outset. 

But what you don't like about a story can be a good prod to look more closely...

The tailor's adventures opened reflections on trickster strategies, courage, and the power of imagination. All useful bits to put in your pocket when you're ready to leave home.

Special thanks to Gary Diggins for granting me permission to include his story about leaving home in this episode.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to Myth Matters an exploration at the intersection of mythology, creativity and consciousness. I’m your host Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide beautiful crazy world of ours, I’m glad that you decided to join me here today.

First of all, thank you to all of you who contacted me in response to the Leaving Home episode to share a bit about your leaving, past and present, and insight into the experience. I love to hear from you.

I have a fairy tale about someone who leaves home for you today, a new story, one that I've not told or thought about before. Maybe you're in the mood to expand your story vocabulary as well. The version collected by the Brothers Grimm is called "The Valiant Tailor" or the "The Brave Tailor" and this is my source. 

I often come across stories that don't make it into Myth Matters for one reason or another and I almost dismissed this story about the tailor as a bit too silly. But it snagged me. There's something interesting under the humor that feels useful. And I discovered that variations of this story appear around the world, in India, Russia, Ireland, and Denmark, for example, which points to the broad appeal of this plot line. 

I'll talk about what I hear in this story after I tell it. For now, I invite you to relax and listen, and let yourself enter this story's world. Note the details that call to you or the questions that arise. Let yourself find something that you like or even dislike-- any response can be a useful clue to the place this story occupies in your life right now.

The Brave Tailor, Brothers Grimm

One summer morning a little tailor was sitting on his table near the window. In good spirits, he was sewing with all his might. A peasant woman came down the street crying, "Good jam for sale! Good jam for sale!" 

That sounded good to the tailor, so he stuck his head out the window and shouted, "Come up here, my dear woman! You can sell your goods here!" 

The woman carried her heavy basket up the three flights of stairs to the tailor, who had her unpack all of her jars. He examined them, picking each one up and holding it to his nose. Finally he said, "This jam looks good to me. Weigh out four ounces for me, even if it comes to a quarter pound." 

The woman, who had hoped to make a good sale, gave him what he asked for, then went away angry and grumbling. 

"May God bless this jam to give me health and strength," said the tailor. Then taking a loaf of bread from his cupboard, he cut himself a large slice and spread it with the jam. "That is not going to taste bad," he said, "but I will finish the jacket before I bite into it." 

He laid the bread aside and continued his sewing, happily making his stitches larger and larger. Meanwhile the smell of the sweet jam rose to the wall where a large number of flies were sitting. Attracted by the smell, a swarm of them settled onto the bread. 

"Hey! Who invited you?" said the tailor, driving away the unbidden guests. However, the flies, who did not understand German, would not be turned away, and they came back in ever-increasing numbers. Finally, losing his temper, he reached for a piece of cloth and shouted, "Wait, now I'm going to give it to you!" then hit at them without mercy. When he backed off and counted, there were no fewer than seven of them lying dead before him, with their legs stretched out. 

"Aren't you someone?" he said to himself, surprised at his own bravery. The whole town shall hear about this." He hastily cut out a banner for himself, then embroidered on it with large letters, Seven with one blow. "The town?" he said further. "The whole world shall hear about this!" And his heart jumped for joy like a lamb's tail. 

The tailor tied the banner around his body and set forth into the world, for he thought that his workshop was too small for such bravery. Before leaving he looked about his house for something that he could take with him. Finding nothing but a piece of old cheese, he put that into his pocket. Outside the town gate he found a bird that was caught in a bush. It went into his pocket with the cheese. 

He bravely took to the road, and being light and agile he did not grow weary. The road led him up a mountain, and when he reached the top a huge giant was sitting there, looking around contentedly. 

The little tailor went up to him cheerfully and said, "Good day, comrade. Are you just sitting here looking at the wide world? I am on my way out there to prove myself. Do you want to come with me?" 

The giant looked at the tailor with contempt and said, "What, travel with you, you miserable little fellow!" "You don't say!" answered the little tailor. Unbuttoning his coat, he showed the banner to the giant. "You can read what kind of man I am." 

The giant read Seven with one blow, and thinking that the tailor had killed seven men, he gained some respect for the little fellow. But he did want to put him to the test, so he picked up a stone and squeezed it with his hand until water dripped from it. "Do what I just did," said the giant, "if you have the strength." 

"Is that all?" said the tailor. "That is child's play for someone like me." Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the soft cheese and squeezed it until liquid ran from it. "That was even better, wasn't it?" he said. 

The giant did not know what to say, for he did not believe the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high that it could scarcely be seen. "Now, you little dwarf, do that." 

"A good throw," said the tailor, "but the stone did fall back to earth. I'll throw one for you that will not come back." He reached into his pocket, pulled out the bird, and threw it into the air. Happy to be free, the bird flew up and away, and did not come back. "How did you like that, comrade?" asked the tailor. 

"You can throw well enough," said the giant, but now let's see if you are able to carry anything proper." He led the tailor to a mighty oak tree that had been cut down and was lying on the ground. He said, "If you are strong enough, then help me carry this tree out of the woods."

"Gladly," answered the man. "You take the trunk on your shoulder, and I will carry the branches and twigs. After all, they are the heaviest." 

The giant lifted the trunk onto his shoulder, but the tailor sat down on a branch, and the giant, who could not see behind himself, had to drag long the entire tree, with the little tailor sitting on top. Cheerful and in good spirits, he whistled the song "There Were Three Tailors Who Rode Out to the Gate," as though carrying a tree were child's play. 

The giant, after dragging the heavy load a little way, could not go any further, and he called out, "Listen, I have to drop the tree." 

The tailor jumped down agilely, took hold of the tree with both arms, as though he had been carrying it, and said to the giant, "You are such a big fellow, and you can't even carry a tree." 

They walked on together until they came to a cherry tree. The giant took hold of the treetop where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it down, and put it into the tailor's hand, inviting him to eat. However, the little tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let go, the tree sprang upward, throwing the tailor into the air. When he fell back to earth, without injury, the giant said, "What? You don't have enough strength to hold that little switch?" 

"There is no lack of strength," answered the tailor. "Do you think that that would be a problem for someone who killed seven with one blow? I jumped over the tree because hunters are shooting down there in the brush. Jump over it yourself, if you can." The giant made the attempt, but could not clear the tree and got stuck in the branches. So, the tailor kept the upper hand here as well. 

The giant said, "If you are such a brave fellow, then come with me to our cave and spend the night with us." 

The tailor agreed and followed him. When they reached the cave, other giants were sitting there by a fire. Each one had a roasted sheep in his hand and was eating from it. The tailor looked around and thought, "It is a lot more roomy here than in my workshop. 

The giant showed him a bed and told him to lie down and go to sleep. However, the tailor found the bed too large, so instead of lying there he crept into a corner. At midnight the giant thought that the tailor was fast asleep, so he got up, took a large iron bar, and with a single blow smashed the bed in two. He thought he had put an end to the grasshopper. 

Early the next morning the giants went into the woods, having completely forgotten the tailor, when he suddenly approached them cheerfully and boldly. Fearing that he would strike them all dead, the terrified giants ran away in haste. 

The tailor continued on his way, always following his pointed nose. After wandering a long time, he came to the courtyard of a royal palace, and being tired, he lay down in the grass and fell asleep. While he was lying there people came and looked at him from all sides, and they read his banner, Seven with one blow.

"Oh," they said, "what is this great war hero doing here in the midst of peace? He must be a powerful lord." 

They went and reported him to the king, thinking that if war were to break out, he would be an important and useful man who at any price should not be allowed to go elsewhere. The king was pleased with this advice, and he sent one of his courtiers to the tailor to offer him a position in the army, as soon as he woke up. 

The messenger stood by the sleeper and waited until he stretched his arms and legs and opened his eyes, and then he delivered his offer. "That is precisely why I came here," answered the tailor. "I am ready to enter the king's service." Thus he was received with honor and given a special place to live. 

However, the soldiers were opposed to the tailor, and wished that he were a thousand miles away. "What will happen," they said among themselves, "if we quarrel with him, and he strikes out against us? Seven of us will fall with each blow. People like us can't stand up to that." 

So they came to a decision, and all together they went to the king and asked to be released. "We were not made," they said, "to stand up to a man who kills seven with one blow." 

The king was sad that he was going to lose all his faithful servants because of one man, and he wished that he had never seen him. He would like to be rid of the tailor, but he did not dare dismiss him, because he was afraid that he would kill him and all his people and then set himself on the royal throne. 

The king thought long and hard, and finally found an answer. He sent a message to the tailor, informing him that because he was such a great war hero he would make him an offer. In a forest in his country there lived two giants who were causing great damage with robbery, murder, pillage, and arson. No one could approach them without placing himself in mortal danger. If the tailor could conquer and kill these two giants, the king would give him his only daughter to wife and half his kingdom for a dowry. Furthermore, a hundred horsemen would go with him for support. 

"That is something for a man like you," thought the tailor to himself. "It is not every day that someone is offered a beautiful princess and half a kingdom."

"Yes," he replied. "I shall conquer the giants, but I do not need the hundred horsemen. Anyone who can strike down seven with one blow has no cause to be afraid of two."

The tailor set forth, and the hundred horsemen followed him. At the edge of the forest, he said to them, "You stay here. I shall take care of the giants myself."

Leaping into the woods, he looked to the left and to the right. He soon saw the two giants. They were lying asleep under a tree, snoring until the branches bent up and down. The little tailor, not lazy, filled both pockets with stones and climbed the tree. Once in the middle of the tree, he slid out on a branch until he was seated right above the sleepers. Then he dropped one stone after another onto one of the giant's chest. For a long time the giant did not feel anything, but finally he woke up, shoved his companion, and said, "Why are you hitting me?" 

"You are dreaming," said the other one. "I am not hitting you." 

They fell asleep again, and the tailor threw a stone at the second one. "What is this?" said the other one. "Why are you throwing things at me?" "I am not throwing anything at you," answered the first one, grumbling. 

They quarreled for a while, but because they were tired, they made peace, and they both closed their eyes again. Then the tailor began his game again. Choosing his largest stone, he threw it at the first giant with all his strength, hitting him in the chest. 

"That is too mean!" shouted the giant, then jumped up like a madman and pushed his companion against the tree, until it shook. The other one paid him back in kind, and they became so angry that they pulled up trees and struck at each other until finally, at the same time, they both fell to the ground dead. 

The tailor jumped down. "It is fortunate," he said, "that they did not pull up the tree where I was sitting, or I would have had to jump into another one like a squirrel. But people like me are nimble." 

Drawing his sword, he gave each one a few good blows to the chest, then went back to the horsemen and said, "The work is done. I finished off both of them, but it was hard. In their need they pulled up trees to defend themselves. But it didn't help them, not against someone like me who kills seven with one blow." 

"Are you not wounded?" asked the horsemen. "Everything is all right," answered the tailor. "They did not so much as bend one of my hairs." Not wanting to believe him, the horsemen rode into the woods. There they found the giants swimming in their own blood, and all around lay the uprooted trees. 

The tailor asked the king for the promised reward, but the latter regretted the promise, and once again he began to think of a way to get the hero off his neck. "Before you receive my daughter and half the kingdom," he said, "you must fulfill another heroic deed. In the woods there is a unicorn that is causing much damage. First you must capture it. 

"I am even less afraid of a unicorn than I was of two giants. Seven with one blow, that is my thing." Taking a rope and an ax, the tailor went into the woods. Once again he told those who went with him to wait behind. He did not have to look very long. The unicorn soon appeared, leaping toward the tailor as if it wanted to spear him at once. 

"Gently, gently," said the tailor. "Not so fast." He stopped, waited until the animal was very near, then jumped agilely behind a tree. The unicorn ran with all its might into the tree, sticking its horn so tightly into the trunk that it did not have enough strength to pull it out again, and thus it was captured. 

"Now I have the little bird," said the tailor, coming out from behind the tree. First he tied the rope around the unicorn's neck, then he cut the horn out of the tree with the ax. When everything was ready, he led the animal away and brought it to the king. 

The king still did not want to give him the promised reward and presented a third requirement. Before the wedding, the tailor was to capture a wild boar that was causing great damage in the woods. Huntsmen were to assist him. 

"Gladly," said the tailor. "That is child's play." He did not take the huntsmen into woods with him, and they were glad about that, for they had encountered the wild boar before and had no desire to do so again. 

When the boar saw the tailor he ran toward him with foaming mouth and grinding teeth, wanting to throw him to the ground. But the nimble hero ran into a nearby chapel, then with one leap jumped back out through a window. The boar ran in after him, but the tailor ran around outside and slammed the door. Thus the furious animal was captured, for it was too heavy and clumsy to jump out the window. The little tailor called to the huntsmen. They had to see the captured boar with their own eyes. 

The hero reported to the king, who now -- whether he wanted to or not -- had to keep his promise and give the tailor his daughter and half the kingdom. If he had known that it was not a war hero, but rather a tailor standing before him, it would have been even more painful for him. The wedding was  held with great ceremony but little joy, and a king was made from a tailor. 

Some time later the young queen heard in the night how her husband said in a dream, "Boy, make the jacket for me, and patch the trousers, or I will hit you across your ears with a yardstick." Thus she determined where the young lord had come from. The next morning she brought her complaint to her father, asking him to help her get rid of the man, who was nothing more than a tailor. 

The king comforted her, saying, "Tonight leave your bedroom door unlocked. My servants will stand outside, and after he falls asleep they will go inside, bind him, and carry him to a ship that will take him far away from here." The wife was satisfied with this. However, the king's squire, who had a liking for the young lord, heard everything and revealed the whole plot to him. 

"I'll put a stop to that," said the tailor. That evening he went to bed with his wife at the usual time. When she thought he was asleep she got up, opened the door, and then went back to bed. The tailor, who was only pretending to be asleep, began crying out with a clear voice, "Boy, make the jacket for me, and patch the trousers, or I will hit you across your ears with a yardstick! I have struck down seven with one blow, killed two giants, led away a unicorn, and captured a wild boar, and I am supposed to be afraid of those who are standing just outside the bedroom!" 

When those standing outside heard the tailor say this, they were so overcome with fear that they ran away, as though the wild horde was behind them. None of them dared to approach him ever again. 

Thus the tailor was a king, and he remained a king as long as he lived.

I mentioned that I almost dismissed this story. A tailor who kills seven flies and fancies himself a hero fit for greater things initially stuck me as grandiose and hey, I'm pretty fed up with the overblown ego fantasies of mediocre men, you know? But look at what this tailor managed to pull off, and while he may have had some good luck, he didn't have a rich daddy or a fairy godmother making things easy for him or protecting him from consequences. I wonder what he felt blossom in himself when he saw those dead flies and decided that he was ready for a bigger world? When he made that banner with the words "Seven at one blow"?

Do you think he was aware of the type of opportunities he was courting by making such a claim, and the dangers that come with the life of a warrior hero? There are many fairy tales about people who succeed because they are naive. Their extreme innocence disarms their opponents. But I think this tailor knew what he was doing. That he decided to bet on his cleverness and trust that he could compensate for his lack of weaponry and brute strength through nimbleness of body and mind. And I think this self-confidence gave him courage.

The tailor and his story are beautifully subversive. This little nobody gets the better of giants and a king. He overcomes those with greater physical strength, outwits armies and the authority of the state, even evades the class consciousness of the princess and the king. All of these forces are at work today, intent on keeping each of us in our assigned place, right? Through straightforward intimidation and worming into our consciousness with poison messages of inferiority and exile. despite this, the tailor becomes king.

How does he do it? The tailor understands the game and the assumptions made by those in power. He understands their psychology, the ways they underestimate him, their unquestioning belief in their superiority, and their lack of imagination. I think imagination is a key to this story. It's easy to get tripped up by assumptions that we take as fact. Imagination is required to think outside of that box. To see yourself as more than a tailor. To understand the obstacles. To make strategic use of what is at hand.

 All of this connects the tailor to the motif of the trickster. Like other tricksters, the tailor is a marvelous opportunist. Imagine having the quickness of mind and chutzpah to squeeze a piece of cheese and convince a giant that you're squeezing water from a rock! He also has the trickster's way with words although he never lies, exactly, as many of them do. He plays with the meanings and those damn assumptions again. No one ever asks for the details of the "seven killed with one blow." I wonder what he would have done with that question!

Interesting that our trickster hero is a tailor, someone who stitches clothe into clothing and presumably makes alterations and repairs. There's a close mythological and linguistic relationship between clothe and language as the words "textile" and "text" share a common root meaning "to weave." 

Weaving threads of fabric or story, for example. We have many metaphors describing this linkage and express it in action as well. Many cultures tell stories through designs woven into fabric or embroidered onto cloth, or through costumes and uniforms. The clothing we that choose to wear is  part of the story that we tell the world about ourselves, which may be a fabrication, a covering.

There's something else about tricksters that pertains to the tailor. Tricksters are flexible. They can imitate others, adopt different ways of doing things, shape shift. This distinguishes them from those who have only one method or type of behavior, the boar or unicorn that always tramples and gores its opponents, for example, the giant who relies on crushing what is smaller, the king who calls his army in, and the princess who secretly plots. As I said before, the tailor knows the game that each of them will play.

The longer I sit with this story, the more associations come to mind. The way that the tailor turns those two sleeping giants against each other reminds me of a famous Yoruban story about the trickster god Eshu, who has a similar knack for getting friends to argue with each other because they don't question their situation thoroughly enough. The defeat of the giants reminds me of "Jack and the Beanstalk," a fairy tale that is more than 5000 years old and once again shows us the power of imagination and creative thinking when faced with brute force. I'll post a link to the Myth Matters episode devoted to this story. 

I'm also thinking about the boar, an animal nemesis of kings and heroes in lots of old stories. The Greek hero Odysseus, for example, receives the scar on his thigh that is recognized by his old nurse decades later, from a wound inflicted by a boar. Hunting boar was a mark of courage and these animals are big, fast, and fierce.

If this story has sparked associations for you, feel free to email me and share them.

I have another story to share with you before we close, something special on the theme of leaving home that I received from a fellow storyteller who does me the honor of listening to Myth Matters.

First, a big welcome to new email subscribers:  Gabrielle, Gunita, Erica, Elinor, Joan, Amy, Madhavi, Sarah, Rob, Laurelyn, Mia, Esther, Dani, Bernadette, Ralph, Mark, Jo, and Amy. Welcome to Myth Matters! The link to join my email list is at my Mythic Mojo website, if you'd like to receive links to new Myth Matters episodes in your inbox. You'll also find a transcript of this episode and information about mythic mentorship and creativity coaching that I offer at mythicmojo.com.

I'm very grateful for the psychic and financial support I receive from my amazing Patreon patrons and supporters on Bandcamp. A big shout out of thanks to Emilia and Mia for their patronage. Thank you so much! If you're finding something of value in this podcast than please help it grow. You can join me on patreon, post a positive review online, share an episode with a friend, or email me to let me know that you're listening. Thank you for expanding this story circle.

And one more announcement. October feels like at least one lifetime away but it will be here in three blinks, so I just opened registration for my two-week dive into story workshop, Step Into the Fairy Glen. Myths name and give shape to liminal spaces and the story that we enter together in this workshop is magical. I hope you'll join me October 21st through November 5th. All of the details are available at mythicmojo.com.

Now, that special story about leaving home. This came to me via email from Gary Diggins, an expressive arts therapist specializing in music as medicine.  I'll post the link to Gary's website with the transcript of this episode. Gary's doing beautiful work that he calls "Soundwork as Soulwork"  and you'll find a range of offerings and interesting resources.

I asked Gary for his permission to weave his words into Myth Matters because I enjoyed his reflections-- and think you will too-- and Gary's story may be a catalyst for some imagining, writing, and reflection of your own. Telling and sharing our stories can be an important part of the personal process of seeing and shaping those stories, and integrating those experiences. This sharing is also a collective resource as we inspire and provoke each other. 

Each of us has at least one story of leaving home. This is part of your personal origin story. Re-imagining this story line at different times in life, with fresh eyes and a perspective informed by mythic patterns, can be fruitful. Maybe you'll be inspired to pick up your pen or brush or guitar too-?

Leaving Home (with a Broken Compass) by Gary Diggins

Back in the day—before clickbait, cat memes, or teenagers narrating makeup tutorials to 40 million followers—if you wanted to capture the attention of a young person, you had to forget about using a fog machine. Shouting “Hey Bartholomew!” (mercifully shortened to Barry) wouldn’t cut it. You drop into your finest David Attenborough tone, and begin:

“In the North, where pine trees whisper secrets and snow falls as pure as bridal confetti, there once lived three Princesses…"

That’s right. Grab the imagination with a good ol’ fairytale involving a princess, a golden crown she dreams about, and a white bear who turns out to be a prince under an unfortunate spell. (It’s basically Beauty and the Beast with more frostbite and Scandinavian angst.) The protagonists must travel to a Troll Queen perched on a glass mountain—located somewhere east of the sun and west of the moon because cartographers in fairy tales are useless with directions.

So why dust off this Norwegian tale from 1871? Why lure Barry out of the basement with nothing more than an old story?

Simple. It’s time for Barry to leave home.

Buried in this tale of princesses and enchanted mammals is the old familiar truth: eventually, even the most pampered castle-dwellers must pack up their emotionally stunted teddy bears and step into the Big Unknown. Yes, even if “home” includes free Wi-Fi, Dad’s secret snack drawer, and a cat named Whiskers who also enjoys video games.

Of course, not everyone leaves home in pursuit of a soul's calling, or to gather sacred wisdom from atop a glittering peak. Some of us get kicked out. That was my brother Wayne. At sixteen, he hit the limits of that Neanderthal family motto: “You live in my cave, you follow my cave rules.”

Wayne didn’t just bend the rules. He origami’d them into paper airplanes and launched them out the window. By thirteen, he had mastered the midnight ladder escape, shuffling down the side of the house like a raccoon with a lighter and a pocket full of joints. There was no white bear waiting. Just a group of stoners hanging at the AKO park with a deeply philosophical question: “Did we bring snacks?”

As for me? Middle child. I was neatly situated between my sister’s compliance and my brother’s defiance. I left home at nineteen on reasonably amicable terms, with a backpack full of notebooks, a trumpet, and a vague suspicion that adulting involved more than just doing your own laundry. Some people leave home with a plan:

“I’m going to university!”

“I’m getting married!”

“I’m volunteering to pick up trash at Everest base camp while rich tech bros sip electrolyte smoothies in oxygen tents.”

Me? I landed in a different camp. A literal one, with hippies. It was the sixties, and like so many others, I was seeking the Holy Grail of meaning, a Round Table version of community, and some decent coffee. Ram Dass said BE HERE NOW, but I was mostly feeling WHO, WHERE, WHEN??

My first year away involved country living, commune-building, and the dawning realization that shared idealism doesn't always translate into shared dishwashing. If a white bear had shown up at our place, someone would have asked if it brought granola.

Eventually, after a year of exploration, I decided that maybe a post-secondary education wasn’t just selling out to The Man. Maybe—if I chose wisely—having a skill could provide a stepping stone. One that said, “Yes, you can use music as medicine. Just please show up on time and invoice properly.”

Fast forward to now: I’ve lost track of how many homes I’ve left. Some involved leases. Others involved entire identities. I’ve left lovers, jobs, spiritual tribes, and cities with complicated parking bylaws. Sometimes with grace. Sometimes with a toppling wheelbarrow full of emotional baggage.

And here’s the thing: we all wind up—again and again—in the wilderness of What Now?  The world outside keeps spinning, but something inside has wandered off muttering cryptic things like, “Is this it?”

It’s a kind of ennui stew. Thick with restlessness, doubt, and a sprinkling of existential paprika. We still weed the garden, pay the bills, and walk the dog, but it all feels…off. Like someone moved the soundtrack of our life two keys lower.

Then, if we’re lucky—or maybe just desperate—old stories rise from the murky depths. Jonah in the whale. Moses in the desert. Odysseus, who apparently got lost without Google Maps for 20 years. Or Dorothy, who was just trying to mind her own business when a tornado flung her into a Technicolor metaphor.

We tune into the news and see people being exiled, displaced, imprisoned. The real stuff. And we realize: leaving home isn’t just a fairy tale. It’s a human inevitability. Sometimes chosen. Sometimes not. And so, at 3:14 a.m., we pace. We mutter. We brew strange herbal teas. We interrogate the ceiling like it’s going to give us a refund.

But underneath it all, a shift is happening. A new beginning disguised as an ending. A calling wearing the mask of chaos. The Universe tapping us on the shoulder with a giant foam finger that says, “Hey buddy. It’s time.”

So, sit still. Breathe deep. Open the portal. That quiet voice is back. You know the one. “In the North, where pine trees whisper secrets and snow falls as pure as bridal confetti, there once lived three Princesses…"

And maybe this time, you’re the one who’s being carried off by the white bear—fur flying, crown gleaming, dinner unplanned. But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out on the way.

We'll figure it out on the way. Thank you Gary, fellow traveler, for your story of leaving home.

If you'd like to hear more personal storytelling definitely check out Kirsten Rudberg's bytesized blessings podcast. I was a recent guest on the podcast and really enjoyed my conversation with Kirsten. She's warm and insightful, and I fully endorse her mission to share stories of magic, miracles, and life-changing events. She's had so many interesting people on her show and I've gone down the rabbit hole. I'll post a link.

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 a more beautiful, just and sustainable world. 

And that's it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Take good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.