Tale of the Fool

[Elia]

Tale of the Fool

With all his worldly possessions in one small pack, the Fool wanders; he doesn’t know where he’s going. So, filled with visions and daydreams he doesn’t see the cliff he is likely to step over. At his heel, a small dog nips at his heels, in play, or is it to warn him of his possible misstep. In falling, The Fool descends to the material world.

Traveling on his way, the Fool first meets a Magician. Skillful, and self-confident, a powerful magus with the infinite floating above his head. The Fool is mesmerized. When asked, the Fool gives his bundled pack and stick to the Magician. Raising his wand to heaven, and pointing his finger to Earth, the Magician calls on all magical powers, the cloth bundle opens on the table, revealing its contents. The Fool sees the possibilities laid out, clearly showing him all the directions he can take. The airy Sword of intellect and communication, the fiery Wand of spirituality and ambition, the overflowing Chalice of Love and emotions, the solid Pentacle of work, possessions and body. With these tools, the Fool can create anything, make anything of his life. But did the Magician create the tools, or were they always in the pack? Only the Magician knows. And our mage refuses to tell The Fool.

Continuing his journey, the Fool comes upon a beautiful and mysterious veiled lady sitting on a throne, between two pillars and illuminated by the moon, behind her is a curtain printed with pomegranates, beneath her feet, a spring of fresh water seems to spring from her. She is the opposite of the Magician, quiet, still, sitting, and enveloped in night, while he was talkative, moving, standing, haloed by sunlight. She is the High Priestess. The Fool is amazed she knows everything about him. “Can you help me,” says the Fool, laying out his sword, chalice, staff and pentacle. “The Magician showed me these tools, but now I have a problem. There are so many things I could do, places I could go with them, I can’t decide.” In answer, the High Priestess hands him a pair of ancient scrolls. “These will teach you how to decide.” Seated at her feet, the Fool reads the wisdom of the scrolls. Finally, the Fool knows enough to decide what he wants, where he will go, and what he will do. Though he suspects the High Priestess has even more she could teach him–like what lies behind the pomegranate curtain–he is ready and excited to begin his journey. Thanking the High Priestess, he heads off. But as he leaves he hears her whisper, quiet as the waters which bubble up from beneath her throne, “We’ll meet again…when you’re ready to travel the most secret path of all.”

Having decided what shape his future will take, the Fool strikes out, impatient to make his future a reality. At this point, he comes upon the Empress. Her hair gold as wheat, wearing a crown of stars, and a white gown dotted with pomegranates. She rests back on her throne surrounded by an abundance of grain and a lush garden. It is possible that she is pregnant. Kneeling at her feet, the Fool tells her his story. She smiles a motherly smile and gently gives him this advice: “Like newly planted grain or a child in the womb, a new life, a new love, a new creation is fragile. It requires fertile soil, patience and nurturing, it needs love and attention. Only this will bring it to fruition.” Understanding at last that his future will take time to build and create, the Fool thanks the Empress and continues on his way.

The Magician revealed his options for his journey, the High Priestess helped him decide which to follow. He learned how to develop his choice, thanks to the Empress. Now he must manage that choice. But how is he to do this? He approaches a great Emperor seated on a stone throne. The Fool is amazed by the way the Emperor is instantly, eagerly obeyed and how well his Empire is run. Respectfully, he asks the Emperor how he does this. And the Emperor answers: “Strong will and a solid foundation. It’s good,” he explains, “to be dreamy, creative, instinctual, patient; but to control one must be alert, brave and assertive. Without control and decisiveness, dreams remain just that, vague concepts that will never become what they could be.” Ready now to lead rather than be led, the Fool heads out with new purpose and direction.

Now that the Fool has created a solid foundation, he is struck with fear. What if everything he’s worked for is taken away? Is stolen, or lost, or destroyed or simply disappears? What if it is just not good enough? In a panic, he heads to a holy place where he finds the Hierophant, a wise teacher and holy man. Acolytes kneel before the man, ready to hear and pass on his teachings. The Fool tells the Hierophant his fears, and asks how he can be free of them. “There are only two ways,” says the Hierophant wisely, “Either give up what you fear to lose so it no longer holds any power over you, or consider what you will still have if your fear comes to pass. After all,” the Hierophant continues, “if you did lose all you’d built, you would still keep the experience and knowledge you’ve gained up to this point, wouldn’t you?” This surprisingly pragmatic advice releases the Fool from his fear, and he is able leave the sanctuary and face the world’s challenges once again.

The Fool comes to a cross-road, filled with energy, confidence and purpose, knowing exactly where he wants to go and what he wants to do. But he comes to a dead stop. To his right is a man standing beneath a tree that seems to have flames in place of leaves, he is looking intently to his right at the figure of a woman standing under a flowering tree. She is gazing at an angel who hovers over the pair with his hands spread over them. Between the a mountain rises in the background. The Fool is presented with another choice. The man seems to represent the material world, touched by the fires of inspiration, the woman the world of the spirit enhanced by fertility. They are guarded by an angel who watches over both paths. The best, and hardest path is between the two, including both the material and spiritual in his path. This is the hardest path, as he must scale the mountain. Although the path is the most difficult, the Fool realizes that in order to see his dreams become reality, he must maintain a balance.

It is here that he comes across a charioteer, standing in his gold and silver chariot, his black and white steeds at rest. “You seem to be a traveler who knows the secret to achieving your destination,” the Fool remarks. “Tell me, what is the best way to do this?” The Charioteer nods out at the ocean. “Have you ever been swimming in the water and been trapped in that tide which pulls you out to sea? If you try to swim forward, head-on, you go nowhere. You swim forward, the tide pulls you back and, if you tire yourself out, you drown. The only way to get where you’re going sometimes is to take a parallel path, and come in slowly, diagonally. The charioteer nods to his beasts. “Your steeds keep the wheels turning, but it is your control and direction that takes you to your goal. Dark and light, they must be made to draw in harmony, under your guidance.”

The Fool is impressed and inspired. He thinks he now knows how to achieve his goals. He thanks the charioteer, but before the Fool leaves, he stops the Fool, “One thing more,” he says, “No goal can be realized unless you have unwavering confidence in your cause. And remember this above all, victory is not the end, it is the beginning.”

The Fool is feeling arrogant, powerful, even vengeful. There is a hot passion in him that he can barely control. It is in this state that he comes across a maiden struggling with a lion. Running to help, he arrives in time to see her gently but firmly shut the lion’s mouth! In fact, the beast, which seemed so wild and fierce a moment ago, is now completely at her command. Amazed, the Fool asks her, “How did you do that?” One hand on the lion’s mane, she answers, “Will power. Any beast, no matter how wild, will back down before a superior will.” At that moment, the Maiden meets the Fool’s eyes; though innocent and young, her look is knowing and filled with great power. “Likewise,” she says to him, “there are many unworthy impulses inside us. It is not wrong to have them. But it is wrong to let them control us. We are human, not beast, and we can command such energy, use them for higher purposes.” His rage quieted, the Fool nods, enlightened, and walks away knowing that it wasn’t only the lion that was tamed this day by a Maiden’s pure and innocent strength.

After a long and busy lifetime, building, creating, loving, hating, fighting, compromising, failing, succeeding, the Fool feels a profound need to retreat from the challenges. In a small, rustic home deep in the woods, he hides, reading, cleaning, organizing, resting or just thinking. But every night at dusk he heads out, traveling across the bare, autumnal landscape. He carries only a staff and a lantern. It is during these restless walks from dusk till dawn, peering at and examining whatever takes his fancy, that he sees and realizes things he’s missed, about himself and the world. It is as if the secret corners in his head were being slowly illuminated; corners he never knew existed. In a way, he has become the Fool again; as in the beginning, he goes wherever inspiration leads him. But as the Fool, his staff rested on his shoulder, carrying unseen his pack. The Fool was like the pack, whatever it was he could be was wrapped up, unknown. The Hermit’s staff leans out before him, not behind. And it carries a lantern, not a pack. The Hermit is like the lantern, illuminated from within by all he is.

From out of hiding comes the Fool, into the sunlight, as if being pulled up from some low, dark point on a wheel. It is time for a change. Staff in hand, he heads back out into the world, expecting nothing. But, strangely, things seem to happen to him as the hours go by, good things. Wandering by a water wheel a woman offers him a drink in a golden chalice, and then urges him to keep the cup, just because she likes him; as he wanders by a windmill, he stops to watch a young man swinging a sword; when he expresses his admiration of the weapon, the young man presses it into his hand, insisting that he take it.

And finally, when he comes upon a rich merchant sitting in a wagon, right over one of the wheels, the man hands him a bag of money, “I like giving away money,” explains the Merchant, “and I decided, just randomly, that the tenth person who walked past me today would get this money. You’re the tenth.” The Fool hardly thought he could still be surprised, but he is. Yesterday he felt he could not win through the challenges to his dream, today he is rewarded, unexpectedly. He sees the wheel is ever turning, one day you may be at the bottom, the next at the top.

The Fool continues on his path, as he travels, he notices a blind wise woman sitting on a throne, a sword held upright in her right hand, scales in her left. She is listening to two brothers argue over an inheritance. They have come to her for judgment. One brother has the whole inheritance, the other has nothing. “I ask that all of it be given to me,” the poor brother demands, “Not only because I have a better right to it, but because I will not be wasteful with it, as he is!” But the rich brother protests, “It is rightfully mine and that’s all that should matter, not what I do with it!” The woman listens, then awards half of the rich brother’s inheritance to the poor brother. The Fool thinks this only fair, but neither brother is happy. The rich one hates losing half his wealth, and the poor one feels he ought to have gotten all. “You were fair,” he remarks to the woman after they have left. “Yes, I was,” she answers plainly. “With only half the inheritance, the rich one will stop being so wasteful. And the poor one will have as much as he needs. Even though they cannot see it, this decision was good for both.”

The Fool thinks on this, and new insight on his own life comes to mind. He realizes that he has spent his life achieving worldly ambitions, physical goods, while leaving his spiritual self to starve, primarily because he didn’t want to make the sacrifices necessary to feed his spiritual self. Now, he sees that this is necessary, the only path he has not walked, one he must walk to regain his equilibrium. Thanking the woman, he heads out with new purpose. It is time to balance his own inner scales.
The Fool settles beneath a tree, intent on finding his spiritual self. There he stays for nine days, without eating, barely moving. People pass by him, animals, clouds, the wind, the rain, the stars, sun and moon. On the ninth day, with no conscious thought of why, he climbs a branch and dangles upside down like a child, giving up for a moment, all that he is, wants, knows or cares about. Coins fall from his pockets and as he gazes down on them – seeing them not as money but only as round bits of metal – everything suddenly changes perspective. It is as if he’s hanging between the mundane world and the spiritual world, able to see both. It is a dazzling moment, dreamlike yet crystal clear. Connections he never understood before are made, mysteries are revealed.

But timeless as this moment of clarity seems, he realizes that it will not last. Very soon, he must right himself, and when he does, things will be different. He will have to act on what he’s learned. For now, however, he just hangs, weightless as if underwater, observing, absorbing, and seeing.
Having left the tree from where he hung, the Fool moves carefully through a fallow field, head still clearing from visions. The air is cold and wintry, the trees bare. Before him, he sees, rising with the sun, a skeleton in black armor mounted on a white horse. He recognizes it as Death. As it stops before him, he humbly asks, “Have I died?” He feels, in fact, rather empty and desolate. And the Skeleton answers, “Yes, in a way. You sacrificed your old world, your old self. Both are gone, dead.” The Fool reflects on that, “How sad.” Death acknowledges this with a nod. “Yes, but it is the only way to be reborn. A new Sun is rising, and it is, for you, a time of great transformation.” As Death rides away, the Fool can feel the truth in those words. He, too, feels like a skeleton, all that he was stripped away. This, he understands, is how all great transformations start, by stripping things to the bone, and building fresh upon the bare foundations.

Continuing on his spiritual path, the Fool begins to wonder how to reconcile the opposites that he’s been facing: material and spiritual (which he hung between as the Hanged man), death and birth (the one leading into the other in the Death card). It is at this point that he comes upon a winged figure standing with one foot in a brook, the other on a rock. The radiant creature pours something from one flask into another. Drawing closer, the Fool sees that what is being poured from one flask is fire, while water flows from the other. The two are being blended together!
“How can you mix fire and water?” the Fool finally whispers. Never pausing, the Angel answers, “You must have the right vessels and the right proportions.” The Fool watches with wonder. “Can this be done with all opposites?” he asks. “Indeed,” the Angel replies, “Any oppositions, fire and water, man and woman, thesis and anti-thesis, can be made to harmonize. It is only a lack of will and a disbelief in the possibility of unity that keeps opposites, opposite.” And that is when the Fool begins to understand that he is the one who is keeping his universe in twain, holding life/death, material world and spiritual world separate. In him, the two could merge, as in the vessels that the Angel uses to pour the elements, one to the other. All it takes, the Fool realizes, is the right proportions….and the right vessel.

The Fool comes to the foot of an enormous black mountain where reigns a creature half goat, half god. At his hooves, naked people linked to the god’s throne by chains, engage in every indulgence imaginable: sex, drugs, food, gold, drink. The closer the Fool gets, the more he feels his own earthly desires rising in him. Lust, passion, obsession, greed. “I refuse to give into you!” he roars at the Goat god, resisting with all his might. The creature returns a curious look. “All I am doing is bringing out what is already in you,” the beast responds. “Such feelings are nothing to fear, nothing to be ashamed of, or even to avoid.” The Fool gestures angrily at the chained men and women, “You say that even though they are enslaved?” The Goat-god mimics the Fool’s gesture. “Take another look.”

The Fool does so, and realizes that the chained collars the men and women wear are wide enough for them to easily slip off over their heads. “They can be free if they wish to be,” the Goat-god says, “Though you are right. I am the god of your strongest desires. But you see here only those who have allowed their base, bestial desires to control them.” At this the Goat-god gestures upward, toward the peak of the mountain. “You do not see those who have allowed their impulses and aspirations to take them up to the top of that mountain. Inhibitions can enslave as easily as excesses. They can keep you from following your passion to the highest heights.” The Fool realizes the truth in this, and that he has mistaken the Goat-god. Here he understands now that it is not a creature of evil, but of great power, the lowest and the highest, both of beast and god. Like all power it is frightening, and dangerous…but it is also the key to freedom and transcendence if understood and well used.
As the Fool leaves the throne of the Goat God, he comes upon a Tower, fantastic, magnificent, and familiar. In fact, The Fool, himself, helped build this Tower back when the most important thing to him was making his mark on the world and proving he is better than other men. Inside the Tower, at the top, arrogant men still live, convinced of their rightness. Seeing the Tower again, the Fool feels as if lightning has just flashed across his mind; he thought he’d left that old self behind when he started on this spiritual journey. But he realizes now that he hasn’t. He’s been seeing himself, like the Tower, like the men inside, as alone and singular and superior, when in fact, he is no such thing. So captured is he by the shock of this insight, that he opens his mouth and releases a SHOUT! And to his astonishment and terror, as if the shout has taken form, a bolt of actual lightning slashes down from the heavens, striking the Tower and sending its residents leaping out into the waters below.

In a moment, it is over. The Tower is rubble, only rocks remaining. Stunned and shaken to the core, the Fool experiences grief, profound fear and disbelief. But also, a strange clarity of vision, as if his inner eye has finally opened. He tore down his resistance to change and sacrifice (Hanged man), then broke free of his fear and preconceptions of death (Death); he dissolved his belief that opposites cannot be merged (Temperance) and shattered the chains of ambition and desire (The Devil). But here and now, he has done what was hardest: destroyed the lies he held about himself. What’s left is the bare, absolute truth. On this he can rebuild his soul.

On the bleak landscape where the Tower stood, the Fool sits, empty, despairing. He hoped to find himself on this spiritual journey, but now he feels he’s lost everything, even himself. Sitting on the cold stones, he gazes up at the night sky wondering what’s left. And that is when he notices, nearby, a beautiful girl with two water urns. As he watches, she kneels by a pool of water illuminated with reflected starlight. She empties the urns, one into the pool, and one onto the thirsty ground.
“What are you doing,” he asks her. She looks up at him, her eyes twinkling like stars. “I am refilling this pool, so that those who are thirsty may drink, and I am also watering the earth so that, come spring, the seeds will grow,” she tells him. And then she adds, “Come. Drink.” The Fool comes to kneel with her by the pool and drink. The water tastes wonderful, like liquid starlight. “I can see you are sad,” the girl continues, “and I know why. But you must remember that you have not lost all. Knowledge, possibilities, and hope, you still have all of these. Like stars, they can lead you to a new future.” Even as she says this, she began to fade away, like dew, vanishing. All that remains is a gleam that was at the center of her forehead. This rises up and up, until it settles in the night sky as a shining star. “Follow your star,” the woman’s voice seems to sing from that light, “and have hope.” The Fool takes in a breath and rises. It is a dark night, a desolate land. But for the first time, he has a guiding light to show him the way. Distant as it is, it heals his heart, and restores his faith.

Following the star the Fool travels through the night. The full Moon rises, illuminating for him a watery path. And he begins to feel disoriented, as if walking in his sleep. He passes under the moon, between two pillars ancient and strange. Suddenly, he looks around to find himself in another land entirely. When he was in the presence of the High Priestess, he saw hints of this dark land through the sheer veil draped behind her throne. And later, when he hung from the tree, he felt himself between the physical world and this one. Now, he has at last passed behind the veil. Here are the mysteries he sought, at least, here are the dark mysteries, ones that have to do with the most primal and ancient powers; powers of nature, not of civilization. It is a land of poets, artists, musicians and madmen know well, a terrifying, alluring place, with very different rules. Wolves, howling in homage to the moon, run wild across this land, hunting along side maidens with bow and arrows; and creatures from childhood nightmares and fantasies peer from shadows, eyes glowing.

The Fool wakes at dawn from his long, restless night to find that the wild river has, at last, come to an end, quietly floating him into a serene pool. There is a walled garden around this pond dominated by roses, lilies and splendid, nodding sunflowers. Stepping ashore, he watches the Sun rise overhead, bright and golden. The day is clear. A child’s laughter attracts his attention and he sees a little boy ride a small white pony into the garden. “Come!” says the little boy, leaping off the horse and running up to him. “Come see!” And the child proceeds to take the Fool’s hand and enthusiastically point out all manner of things, the busy insects in the grass, the seeds and petals on the sunflowers, the way the light sparkles on the pond. He asks questions of the Fool, simple but profound ones, like “Why is the sky blue?” He sings songs, and plays games with the Fool. At one point the Fool stops, blinking up at the Sun so large and golden overhead, and he finds himself smiling, wider and brighter than he has in a very long time. Since he started on this spiritual journey, he has been tested and tried, confused and scared, dismayed and amazed. But this is the first time that he has been simply and purely happy. His mind feels illuminated, his soul light and bright as a sunbeam. Like the great Sun itself, this child with his simple questions, games and songs, has helped the Fool sees the world and himself anew, to wonder at and appreciate both. “Who are you?” the Fool asks the child at last. The child smiles at this and seems to shine. And then he grows brighter and brighter until he turns into pure sunlight. “I’m you,” the boy’s voice says throughout the garden, “The new you.” And as the words fill the Fool with warmth and energy, he comes to realize that this garden, the sun above, the child, all exist within him. He has just met his own inner light.

As the Fool leaves the garden of the Sun, he feels that he is near the end of his journey, ready to take a final step. But something is keeping him from doing this, holding him back. He gazes up, hoping to find guidance from the Sun; instead he sees above him a fiery angel, beautiful and terrible. “You are right,” the Angelic figure confirms, “you have only one last step on your journey, one final step to completion. But you cannot take that step until you lay your past to rest.” The Fool is perturbed. “Lay it to rest? I thought I’d left it behind, all of it,” he says. “There is no way to do that,” The Angel observes. “Each step wears down the shoe just a bit, and so shapes the next step you take, and the next and the next. Your past is always under your feet. You cannot hide from it, run from it, or rid yourself of it. But you can call it up, and come to terms with it. Are you willing to do that?” The Angel hands the Fool a small trumpet. The Fool is hesitant, but he knows that this is a final decision. He must either to go forward, or stay where he is. He blows, and the trumpet’s song echoes across the sky, its vibrations seeming to crack open the Earth. From under the Fool’s feet, memories rise. Images of his innocent youth, challenges, loves, failures, losses, success, disillusionment and wisdom.
For the first time, he does not try to leave them, ignore or forget them, but accepts them. They are, he sees, nothing to fear. They happened, but they are gone now. He, alone, carries them into the present. With that understanding, the memories vanish. Though they remain in his mind, they no longer have any power over him. He is free of them, reborn, and wholly in the present.

The Fool turns to take that final step along his final path, and finds, to his bemusement that he is right back where he started, at the edge of that very same cliff he almost stepped over when he was young and too foolish to look where he was going. But now he sees his position very differently. He thought he could separate body and mind, learn all about one, then leave it to learn about the other. But in the end, it is all about self, mind and body, past and future, the individual, and the world. All one. As above, so below, and all opposites are each other, including the Fool and the Mystic who are both doorways to the secrets of the universe. With a knowing smile, the Fool takes that final step right off the cliff…and soars. Higher and higher, until the whole of the world is his to see. And there he dances, surrounded by a yoni of stars, at one with the universe. Ending, in a sense, where he began, beginning again at the end. The world turns, and the Fool’s journey is complete.