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It's interesting to look at your life, past to present, and think: "It has all led up to this...." And then wonder where it will lead to next.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Fairy Tales

After a 30 minute conversation about the weather with a good friend over the phone, I realized something. I have nothing to talk about. This may be a shocker to some of you who have listened to me ramble on and on about this or that, but I have reached a point where I just don't have anything to say. In fact the other night when I couldn't sleep, I almost blogged about my nightly routine before bed and its importance to a good nights sleep. Thankfully, I opted not to (your welcome). I could go on about my inner struggles or the hardships of winter, but I myself am bored with these things. So I picked up a few promising fictional books from the library to lose myself in. Don't be surprised if the next few blogs are based on what I find in them.

It's always hard to write after a good fictional read. I find myself wanting to portray my life in a fairy tale fashion. Me being the heroine, of course. However, this can be difficult when my battles as of late consist of stacks of dirty dishes and the seemingly never-ending process of potty training. Little things I can never seem to conquer. In reality, I am nothing close to the poised, strong princesses with hearts of gold that are described in my favorite tales. I do not see the good in everything and everyone. I do not possess a voice that charms wild beasts. Not that I spend my time walking the forests singing to birds. I am more likely to be yelling at my dog who I just tripped over for the millionth time because I cannot see anything that lies below my ever growing abdomen. I often wonder how these fairytale princess characters, often isolated to the company of small birds and rodents, manage to be so positive and peppy, even while longing desperately for something more. I complain about the small things and pray to God for strength to make it through the big things, while dragging my feet through my fears and petty insecurities.

I just finished reading a fairy tale novel called The Goose Girl; a retelling of a Grimm Brothers' tale called Goose Girl. The main character is a princess who relates more to animals and nature than people, is found unfit to claim her mother's throne and therefore is betrothed to a prince in another kingdom to prevent a war from breaking out. Half of her guards turn on her while on their way to the other kingdom in order to replace her with her lady-in-waiting. Long story short, she escapes and ends up having to work as a goose herder in that kingdom for almost a year while trying to figure out how to either escape back to her land or convince the king she is the real princess. I found myself relating to her most during her goose herding days. I felt her agony as she waited, slowly discovering herself, even as she pretended to be someone she was not.

Happy endings always coincide with the Knight and Shining Armor showing up to save the day. I was lucky to meet my prince early in life, and though he has definitely completed my world in a way no other human could, I wouldn't say he rescued me. And though our wedding day was one of the happiest in my life, I wouldn't say it's been all hearts and roses since. My Christian heritage tells me I should compare the Knight and Shining Armor to God, but there are too many differences. For one, God does not wait till some climax to show up and save us, although it often takes hardship for us to wake up and realize we need His saving. Also, life is not pretty palaces and ball gowns once we allow God to save us. There are still wicked step sisters around to torment us, ugly green witches out to get us, and dreaded chores still await us each day.

So I guess its a sham, this fairy tale business. Perhaps I am thinking too small. Or maybe I'm thinking too much.


Breka said...

The weather is still wintry here in Mass. I still have nothing to say, at least over the phone.

I think life is fairy tale like in some ways. But I think fairy tales are mostly a stripped down but dressed up at the same time version of life. A simple expression of the weight of glory that C.S. Lewis wrote about. The feeling that there is something beautiful and wonderful and pure magic in life but not seeing it among the stacks of dirty dishes and rooting vegetables and piles of frozen manure.

Breka said...

(and by rooting, I meant rotting...)

Sam said...

I must add, in jive with our C.S. Lewis talk, ...'I like weather. we all do-- until some adult tells us we're not suppose to'.