Earth and water have spoken to me through both form and story. In 2004 I was facing up to a deteriorating ministry and wondering if I had misinterpreted the sea serpent’s calling. That year we went to visit the city of St. Louis. In that city is a vast botanical park, and in the park is a lotus pond. That lotus pond taught me a story that sounds like a fairy tale.
Once upon a time there was a princess who, as oldest of many siblings, was being raised to be the future queen. One hot summer day she had finished her geography and diplomacy lessons with the palace tutors. She then went to help the queen mother with the younger children, as was her daily responsibility. They all played ball a while in the palace gardens, but it was just too hot. Soon everyone was napping, even the queen. Everyone except our princess, who felt suddenly freed from her endless obligations to wander beyond the palace garden walls into the cooler woodlands. She languidly kicked the golden ball through the gate, between trees and bushes, randomly weaving in and out through a labyrinth of ever-denser forest that blocked out the harsh sun, until it was so dense and dark that she sought a beam of light shining ahead.
The light brought her to a round field of white flowers as huge as wagon wheels at the end of high thick stalks growing high at different heights from even larger green leaves set like plates on a royal giant’s table. The flower petals were thick, waxy, and translucent, softening the bright sunlight and catching the pollen falling like golden rain down from long thin stamens at their centers. Entranced, the princess hadn’t noticed that she had kicked her gold ball into the leaves until she saw that it was gone.
She stepped on a leaf to enter the field of flowers to find the ball, when she noticed that the leaf was wet. Her shoe was ruined but the water felt refreshingly cool, so she took a few more steps as the leaves, tilting down into the unseen pond below, suddenly threw her off balance, flipping her into the water. As she looked down, she saw her gold ball drifting down through thick weed like the pollen above. One moment the princess felt torn between swimming down to reach it and swimming up for air, the next moment she became breathless. In her panic she could no longer see the ball or tell up from down. Desperate to breathe, she gasped in, expecting water, but realized that, mysteriously, air filled her lungs instead. Only then did she become aware that she was wrapped gently but firmly in the body of a water snake that matched her in size. She saw that the snake was taking her down through the dappled light of the pond, following the golden ball until it sunk into the black mud at the bottom. Staring at the beautiful fish and frogs swimming in out of the dappled light, the princess forgot to be afraid. At the bottom, she reached into the mud to retrieve the ball. The snake then swam with her still safely in his grasp, back up to the surface. The princess lay on the edge of the pond as the snake unwrapped his body from hers. No longer needing his help, she started to breathe the air in this realm she knew so well.
If that wasn’t all disorienting enough, the snake bowed to her and spoke, “I am the prince of this pond and am glad to have been of service to you.” The princess was surprised, but all those diplomacy lessons kicked in. “Thankyou so much. I appreciated this opportunity to visit your beautiful watery realm. I am princess of this land and invite you to come visit it sometime.” “Thankyou” said the prince, who must have been taught diplomacy as well. “I will come and visit soon.”
That very evening the princess was seated at a giant table with the king father, queen mother and many little princes and princes, when the butler announced that a large black water snake had knocked at the door who he was ready to chase away, until it announced that it was the Prince of the Lotus Pond and had been invited to visit this realm of air by the Princess. “He is wearing a crown,” the butler whispered to the king, “so I thought I better ask him to wait.” The king turned to the princesses at the table and saw that his eldest’s face was bright red. “Is this snake telling the truth?” “Yes” she replied. “I lost the golden ball in the lotus pond and he helped me retrieve it. I felt that I had to thank him by inviting him here. I never thought he would come.” “Then we must invite him in and treat him as a royal guest,” announced the king. In came the snake, who acted with all the princely graces as a place was made for him at the table right next to the princess. He sent shudders through all of the children as he sat in the chair, but he ate and conversed with all the courtly graces and they soon enjoyed asking him many questions about the fish and frogs whom he ruled under the water, as well as telling him about the cats and chickens who lived in the air above.
When dinner was finished, the princess was eager to say goodbye to the snake, thinking that her obligation was done. But the snake turned to her and said, “I would like to see more of your realm.” Since the princess was speechless, the queen mother replied, “Daughter, you will now show him around the castle.” It was an order that the princess knew must be obeyed. She reluctantly showed the snake prince around the courtyards and gardens, hoping he would leave when it got dark. Instead he asked to see their living quarters inside of the castle. She could think of no excuse to refuse him. The princess shuddered as the snake crawled through their private quarters. When she showed him her room, he said, “I like you very much. I hope you and I can become friends and get to know each other’s realms as intimately as our own. Noticing that no one else was watching, the repulsed princess whispered “NO!”, took hold of the snake and threw him against the wall as hard as she could. He slumped down unconscious to the floor.
The princess went over to the snake to see if he was still breathing. To her surprise, the snakeskin around his head was thin and had split open where it hit the stone wall. Through the thin skin she could see the face of a human being. That human mouth was struggling to breathe. “Oh no! what have I done?” yelled the princess as she ran to find her mother.
Her mother was very angry with her but helped her move the snake prince onto the great bed. “Your punishment will be to sleep on a cot next to the bed and nurse this prince back to health, since it was you who harmed him.” It was an order the princess knew must be obeyed.
For a week, the princess slept at the princes’ feet and watched him breathe when she awakened. The snakeskin continued to thin and split open as he became more conscious, then thirsty. When the old skin was split halfway down his body he started to talk. As the princess brought him food and water, they began to share stories about their two realms and slowly became friends. She had never had a real friend before, one she could play with who she was not responsible for. By the time the skin was completely shed, the prince looked like any human in her realm, and they were inseparable. He grew a new snakeskin as all snakes do which he wore as soon as he could to return to the Lotus Pond and reassure his king father and queen mother that he was well. He gave the princess a beautiful snakeskin to wear when she came to play with him in the pond. In that way, they came to know each other’s realms as intimately as their own. Shapeshifters both, they learned to love one another dearly and support each other as they became enlightened rulers of all the land beneath the water and the air.
There is no moral to this story, though for me it was a guide to moving forward in my life at the time. Have stories ever come to you as guides? Did they come as dreams or intuitions? How did those stories mix up the symbols, tales, or rhymes from your childhood? Did they pull from your relationships with the rest of nature: people, animals, plants, waters, wind, earth or stars? Did you follow their guidance? Can you still learn from them?