The Magic of Fairytales

I have recently become aware of the magic of writing or creating fairy tales based on real life. They can be therapeutic when you apply them to your own life and an amazing gift when given to someone you love. Talking to my sister, Kathy about this she said fairytales give you the chance to look at a story objectively, make fun of it and often find resolution as children's stories always have a happy ending.

A gift of love
Two years ago on my mother's 80th birthday, my sister wrote a fairytale about my mother's life. She reversed my parent's names (which gives the feeling of anonymity) and used the language of fantasy to describe the places where she had lived "a far, far away land of green hills and bushy hedges" to describe Wales and the "Land of Open Spaces where the sun shone all the time" to describe country Australia. She lovingly detailed key stages in my Mum's life and how she had to work very hard. She used the repetition of my Mum being given advice that “you will have to work very hard for that” and my Mum's response “this is not what I expected at all.”

She used symbolic fantasy language to illustrate the story such as this "when you had a child you would hang at least a dozen white fluffy flags out on a flag pole every day for two years to tell the people of the Land that you had a child.

Ina had one child and then before long had two more and then another.  After 18 months Ina was spending her whole day wheeling out dozens and dozens of white fluffy flags and hanging them up on the flag pole and then bringing them in each evening and folding them up ready for the next day."

My sister read the story at my mother's birthday lunch and had the family in stitches as we appreciated the wit and tenderness with which she treated my mother's life.  My mother loved the story and read it to everyone for months after the event.

Resolving a work issue
A few months later, my husband and I were immersed in an incredibly stressful experience of handing over our business to the new owners. We had run the company as a small family owned business and maintained this 'family' flavour even though we had grown the business to six clinics and employed 26 staff. The new owners were a multinational corporation who we perceived to be changing and dismantling our 'family' in the takeover.

On a short holiday to get some respite from the 'trauma'  of this process, I searched online for suggestions to deal with my stressed out emotional response. I read a blog entry (which sadly I can't reference as I didn't ever think I would be referring to it in public) where a man wrote about how cathartic he had found the process of writing a fairytale as part of a management course.

I decided to write about my experience of selling and handing over our business as a fairytale. I found the experience so freeing. I could refer to all the players without naming them. In the tale, our business was called "the Garden of Life", which became a wonderful metaphor for the buyer "Emperor of Seed" and the new heads of different departments as Dukes and Duchesses of different parts of the garden.

When I wrote my final paragraph, I created a sense that completion and peace would eventually result in my story. This was what I wrote. (My husband is the King and I am Penelope)

"The King and Penelope loved their Garden even though it had caused them some sleepless nights, they had a loyal team of gardeners who were willing to work in the new Empire and collaborate with the Dukes and Duchesses. The King and Penelope realized that they were grieving the loss of their family, their dream and their success. But in the end, the Garden would survive and thrive and for Penelope and the King, freedom would be their reward."

 

Personal Resolution

Last year at memoir writing course, I was invited to write my life story as a fairytale. While there are so many ways to approach this, I chose to write about one aspect of my life. I published it on my blog and you can read it here.

 

Helping someone else with an issue

Towards the end of last year, I was in contact with a dear friend who was feeling depressed. She is a keen reader of my blog and remarked on how she loved reading my fairytale.  

 

Thinking about her story, it struck me that I could rewrite it as a fairytale. In the early hours of the next morning (3am to be precise) the story woke me up. As I lay in bed, sleep evaded me while the story unfolded and developed in my mind. Eventually at 5am, I just had to get up and write the story down.

 

I loved the way changing people's names, finding symbols for her special talent "a heartful of love that could shine on everyone she loved" and then using the same symbol so that when she became sad, her heart became dull and tarnished.

 

Finally the moral from her fairy godmother was

"People who are given the heartful of love always shine it on everyone they love and the places where they live and they forget to shine it on themselves. The first rule when you have the heartful of love is that you must shine it on yourself first, every morning and every night, BEFORE you shine it on anyone else. If you don't, it will go dull and wear out."

I loved writing this story and when my friend read it she said she had tears in her eyes. She rang me to say she was so excited to have her very own fairytale. It was a beautiful gift that gave my friend a lot of pleasure and helped her see her world from another perspective.

Planning my future Now as I sit here wondering what my new career plan might look like, I am writing a fairytale about how I can unpack my fears. I will let you know how it works out.

 

If anyone has posted a fairytale or used one in life writing, I'd love to know about your experience. Please leave a link in the comments or send me an email to  jenfish90 at gmail dot com

 

My niece, Steph, aged 3; one of our beautiful real life fairies. 1993 (taken by my sister, Kathy
with a watercolour filter added by me)

my life as a fairytale

Recently, at a workshop on writing memoir, I was invited to retell a story from my life as a fairytale. Here is what I wrote.

Once upon a time in a land of wide open spaces lived two wizards of healing. Their lives were very busy selecting potions and offering healing spells to all the people in the village. They had four offspring very close together. The eldest of these was a girl named JenMidge.

JenMidge was a strong and capable daughter who had many talents and was especially good at helping other people. As was customary, in the village where they lived, every person was given a special cloak to make the most of their talents.

Being very proud of their first born, her parents gave JenMidge the cloak of Responsibility, a beautiful garment made of soft maroon velvet.

In the beginning, JenMidge wore the cloak of Responsibility with much pride. When she walked in the streets, she stood tall and enjoyed the status that this mantle conferred on her.

But as she grew older, JenMidge was drawn to the cloaks worn by other people. She envied the cloak of beauty worn by her best friend. She was both attracted to and a little fearful of the cloak of adventure worn by her younger brother. But the cloaks that she admired most were the colourful cloaks of artistry and creativity.

The more she looked at the cloaks worn by other people, the more she found her cloak was constricting, heavy and weighed upon her shoulders. She dreamed of slipping out her cloak and being free.

For many years, JenMidge would roll up her cloak and hide it in her satchel and pretend that she was wearing a different cloak. While she imagined that she was dressed in the spangly glittery cloak of performer, her satchel betrayed her. It hurt and forced her to remember that she should be wearing the Responsibility Cloak.

Somedays she tired of wishing for something different. When this happened, she would submit to the cloak of Responsibility and pursue her conventional talents and abilities. She was surprised to find she was recognised for her ability to coordinate and manage many tasks at once. She became well known for her capacity to spin tops, lift weights and juggle balls. In addition, wearing the cloak of responsibility meant that JenMidge often felt compelled to do everything for everybody and she found this very tiring.

One night, JenMidge had a dream. In this dream she saw a heavenly place where people with heavy cloaks could learn to live life without burden. In the morning, she remembered her dream and decided to go in search of this land. Packing up her cloak and taking with her a satchel filled with treasures from her childhood, she went in search of this land.     

It was a tough journey. She trudged up hills in the heat, drank from cool streams in dark forests and searched and searched for this special land.

One day, she met a wise man sitting quietly by the side of the road. She asked him if he knew about this land where people with heavy cloaks could learn to live life without burden.

He looked at her with gentle eyes and a soft smile.

"I think you are looking in all the wrong places", he said. "Sit with me here and show me your cloak of Responsibility. Tell me what you see."

JenMidge sat beside the old man and unrolled her cloak from her satchel. She pointed to its heaviness, she complained about its restrictions and she cried tears of regret.

The old man asked, "Why are you only looking at the outside of your cloak, what is it like inside?"

With uncertainty, JenMidge unwrapped her cloak and lay it on the ground beside her. Tentatively opening her cloak, she saw a rainbow glowing inside, a moon and clusters of stars. Her eyes widened and she turned her cloak inside out and placed it on her shoulders. The cloak felt lighter and floated on her shoulders.

"It is still my cloak of responsibility," she cried, "but I can see both sides of me now."

"Thankyou for showing me a new way of looking at my cloak," she said to the old man.  

I wonder what cloak you were given to wear? How would you write your life as a fairytale and what does this show you about choices you have made.
I am thinking about writing my future story and considering what cloak or mantle I shall choose to wear now.

"Dream" a night photo by iPhone Nov 2011