"Unless your heart, your soul, and your whole being are behind every decision you make, the words from your mouth will be empty, and each action will be meaningless. Truth and confidence are the roots of happiness." ~ author unknown
This drawing is "Vrai" from one of my faery stories... she represents truth. My kids asked when they were little what truth really was. It is one of those wonderful, innocent questions like asking "What is a zebra?" But, it is much easier to describe what a zebra seems to be, than what truth seems to be. Well, being a storyteller, (and to buy me some time to ponder what in the world truth really is, myself ;) I told them a story.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful hollyhock village where all the faeries of Summer lived. They arrived each year as the tiny lilypad-like sprouts started their way up through the dark, verdant, soil. The faeries knew the story of the hollyhock village for they knew it from the past, but, being faeries, wise and thoughtful, they also knew that the flowery village could change anytime, for any reason. Next to this village was a strawberry patch. It was there that three caterpillars lived. They were sweet and bold, as caterpillars go and they wanted to travel and learn of their surroundings. The oldest decided to set out one morning to see the hollyhock village she had heard the night moths singing about in the soft moonlight. She said, "Adieu." to her sisters and said she would be back by nightfall to tell stories by firefly light.
She enjoyed travel for she tasted many different leaves than her strawberry plant provided and it gave her quiet of mind to think about who she is and where she is going. When she arrived at the hollyhock village it was all things precious and new. Tiny sprouts of grass and hollyhock beginnings shown bright and fresh in the lush soil. The faeries glistened with a white mist as they tended the newness of it all. It was lovely and she looked forward to telling her sisters about the village upon arriving back home.
That night after inching her way home, she told of what she saw.
The second sister decided that in a couple of moons she would travel to the village, as well. She had much to do in the garden at the strawberry hill and thought it would make a lovely holiday in reward. So, when the day arrived that felt right and it was full of that perfect slant of light, she left. She loved travel, for it worked well to see all the neighbors' gardens and different crops and what they filled their plates with. She was getting to be quite round and moved slow but, she didn't mind, for then she could truly savor the bounty that filled her eyes. When she arrived at the village it was tall and full of green spires. A splendor of green puffs, like pillows, seemed to rest on the green towers and pink swirls peeked out of some that were so fragile and magical a tear of love came to her eye. She traveled home to tell her sisters of the village she saw.
The first sister listened, in a gentle way, though she knew the truth (she thought) of how her dear sister had not truly gone to hollyhock village, but, must have gone astray. For the village that sister described sounded nothing like the village she had seen. But, ahh... it is not the way for a caterpillar to argue. She knew the truth and it was a fine story from her sister, anyway. They all slept with smiles of sweet villages in their minds and leafy dreams in their thoughts.
The third sister had many dreams that night. She was in the air with faery wings and feelings of freedom. She woke and it was still late, so, she went for a stroll up a nearby bush and thought she might see what it was like to be in the air. She dangled off the branch and the rush of newness she felt made her wish to stay that way and she spun a cocoon so beautiful around herself that even the nightglow faeries stopped to watch and sigh. After time passed, she woke to a new perspective and felt like stretching in so many ways. She unfurled and dusted the faery sand from her eyes and left the branch in a swoop of joy across the berry patch. Her sisters waved and wished her well on her travels, for they could tell she was headed for hollyhock village. Then, they went to make their own cocoons and dream of new perspectives.
The third sister flew over the land and felt the breeze and heard the whistle of flight. Her mind soared and she could hear and taste the air, everything. It all seemed to have voice through her beautiful wand-like antennae. She arrived at hollyhock village to a great festival. The faeries were in their finest and there was so much pink and green that only joy could be felt and rejoice and gratitude was in the air. She sat on the pink silky blossoms and partook of the nectar and love in the air. She would never forget this journey.
When she arrived home, her two sisters, too, were butterflies and they fluttered for awhile together in sisterhood. Then, they lit upon a vine and the third sister told her tale. The first two sisters smiled at the story, knowing their truths about the "real" hollyhock village and seeing the value in the trip to where ever their other two sisters had traveled, and so they did not contradict any description. For what is truth... ? It is but an experience. An experience sought confidently and lived fully is your truth and it need not be anyone else's experience.