The Wedding Cake Beneath the Bridge, a fairy tale for enlightenment

Thunder lulls you to sleep but now is the time for waking. Coffee is brewed. Snuggle beneath the sheepskin blanket and listen to the rain trickle down the window panes. It’s time for the crone to tell a tiny tale, so open your mind and heart and find what meaning you will.

 

 

A storm overtook an anxious maiden traveling a lonely road.

Sliding in mud down a hill, she found her way beneath a bridge, taking care not to fall into the swift river. Anxiety overcame her. She held her belly and began to moan.

Beside her came a sneeze.

There sat an old woman much concealed by her cloak. She held a plate with a cake. “I baked it for a wedding,” the crone rasped, “but this storm came along and so the cake is ours. Take a piece.”

The maiden nibbled at the sodden cake as thunder crashed. After a time, she said, “I expected to have the taste of poison on my tongue this night, not the taste of cake.” She reached into a pocket and brought forth a small bottle. “Herein lies escape from this cruel world.”

“I see nothing wrong here,” the crone said, squeezing rain from her tunic. “What need have you of poison?”

“Can you not guess? I do not know the man who gave me this child and left me in shame.” The maiden gazed at her swollen belly. “I am scorned. Never will I taste my own wedding cake. I am so frightened of being alone I cannot bear it any longer.”

The crone smacked her lips noisily. “I am glad for your company. You eat wedding cake as we speak. You are safe beneath this bridge. It appears as if you have no need of poison after all. How grateful this makes me!”   

The maiden glared at the crone, uncorked her tiny bottle of poison and swirled its contents. “I take shelter from storms beneath a bridge with a madwoman,” she muttered. With her next bite of cake, her memory vanished. The maiden held a hand to her heart and wept with abandon for three hours. At last she was empty of pain. Her tears ceased, and she looked about herself in wonder.

“Hello,” the maiden greeted upon sight of the crone. “I have no idea why I was crying, how strange. I’m fine now.” She noticed the piece of cake in her hands and took a bite. She smiled with pleasure. “This cake tastes delicious, and I am glad to be here with you out of the rain. But who am I? I do not know.”

“That is good.” The crone leaned forward with kind eyes. “I am happy to meet you as you truly are, at last.”

Heaven on earth is like this.  

 

 

 

The next time a painful memory arises, play a game of pretend.

Imagine a magic wand is waved and you have complete amnesia. Then, look around you. How okay are you, right here and now, in this moment?

It may be that though you see you are safe and sound, sensations of anxiety or sadness or anger stay put somewhere in your body. Notice those feelings while having ‘amnesia.’ By that I mean feel what you are feeling, without turning away, AND WITHOUT ANALYSIS OR STORYTELLING ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED.

So much of our suffering comes from denial or repression of things we didn’t want to feel at some place and time. They will continue to come up so that they can pass away, because the nature of things is to pass. But when we tell stories, we tend to distort reality and either go into denial or indulgence. That often looks like anxiety, depression, or even lashing out in anger. It can look like thoughts of suicide.

Try letting your feelings move however they wish without mental commentary or reactivity.

It may be that what you find is that you really are okay here and now. It’s wonderful to trust that our feelings know how to move without our help. It’s a matter of allowing. No denial. No repression. No storytelling. No interference or distortion.

Let your feelings move, let them pass. This way you stay present instead of imagining yourself into the past, which is no longer real. The feelings are here now, but the story of the past is not. This doesn’t mean the past doesn’t matter or that you shouldn’t learn from it. It just means the past has no power over you here and now. The emotions that wish to move and pass are the last remnants of a painful moment in the past.

This is important. Who are you—not in the past, but right here and now? The you of yesterday is past, like the feelings you let go of at last.

This is being reborn.