28 June 2008
The Real Story of The Three Little Pigs
I was chitchatting with my son the other day, and he said
that even though he thinks it will be fun after the shift is complete, that if
he had to choose a time period to be born into, he’d choose this time period.
He said that it was exciting to move from one set of strongly held ideas into a
group of ideas that are so radically different. He’s got a point.
Individuals born in the last century and moving into this one are mavericks.
They’re individuals who thrive on challenge. Because this time period doesn’t
feel like a shift in perception to me; It feels more like a flip.
We’re taking the idea that almost all power is held outside the individual and
moving into the idea that all power is held by the individual. These two
ideas are so different that they seem opposite of one another.
Sometimes it’s good to look at where you’ve been and where you’re going in
order to give yourself a boatload of credit for where you are and your chutzpa
for participating in this reality at this unique time.
We’re all in process, moving from one paradigm to the next. Plenty of ideas
that will soon be outdated are still present and rearing their heads each day.
For example, in a universe where all power is held by the individual, the idea
of working hard is outdated. An all-powerful being doesn’t have to work
at anything. An all-powerful being explores. Yet, for the most part,
hard word and struggle are still portrayed as valiant expressions. This is a
last century concept. This is the before mode. The before mode is just
dandy, but it’s the platform from which we’re going to be taking off into
another platform.
But let’s look at that platform for a moment. I think the story that
illustrates the belief structure of the last century quite well is the story of
the three little pigs. For those of you who don’t know the story, it goes like
this.
The Last Century Story of The Three Little Pigs
The first little pig plays music all the time, and doesn’t work.
The second little pig works on his house, but he doesn’t work hard. He manages
get it together enough to construct a house of straw.
The third little pig works diligently and, because of his determination, he
builds a house of brick.
Along comes a wolf and threatens the first pig, who doesn’t even have a house
to hide in. He goes running to the second pig, who takes the first pig into his
straw house. The wolf blows that house down, so the first and second pigs go
running to the third pig who, because of his superior work ethic and fine
construction materials, saves the day.
The idea is that it’s irresponsible to play (the first little pig), that it’s
lazy and dangerous not to work hard (the second little pig), and that you’re
only safe if you keep your nose to the grindstone (the third little pig). The
underlying assumption is that it’s an unsafe universe (the wolf). In sum, this
is a perfect picture of the American work ethic, and the reason for that ethic.
Once again, these ideas are a platform for experience. They’re not right, and
they’re not wrong. They will, however, yield a particular kind of experience,
and as we move along it’s not the outcome that most people are yearning for. In
fact, some of these ideas act as blocks as people try to apply reality creation
ideas in their daily lives.
In the old paradigm, a good, moral, responsible person is a hard working
person. These seemingly innocent associations can be a bugger when you actually
try to incorporate the idea that you’re living in a safe and giving universe.
As you try to trust that you can have what you want without working hard
for it, as you try to become more experience-oriented as opposed to outcome-oriented,
you may find yourself rather frustrated.
There are many channeled authors trying to guide people to be more playful and
light, and many of us struggle with this because if we do that won’t we be
eaten by the wolf? A serious person (read: a person who understands
that life is not on your side) who pays her bills and is compassionate to
others is concerned about the state of the world, right? If I’m not
serious and focused on the dangers, then how are the bills going to be paid?
How will my friend who is struggling know that I care? How will the world
become safer? I have to be vigilant. I have to watch out. I have to anticipate
all the things that could happen to me and then take action to make sure those
things don’t happen. Anything less than hard work, tempered with a good dose of
seriousness and a side of worry is a threat.
These ideas are a snare. So let me tell you a little secret. There’s another
version of the story of the three little pigs. It’s the story that belongs in
this new era. It’s the real story. Here it is.
The Real Story of The Three Little Pigs
In the real story of the three little pigs, there is no wolf because the
universe is on the side of the pigs. Therefore, the pigs know that there are no
dangers.
The first little pig has such trust in the world in which he lives that he
freely expresses his joy through music. He doesn’t worry about the daily
necessities because he knows that the world is abundant and that his needs are
always taken care of. This isn’t wishful thinking on his part. He has actual knowledge
of the mechanics of life.
The second little pig, like the first, loves life. He loves experimentation. He
loves trying things out. He’s an inventor. He’s working on a new way of
constructing houses, using materials that are abundant, natural, and
self-generating. He hasn’t quite figured out the best method to employ yet, but
he enjoys the process. Even when his inventions fail, it doesn’t bother him a
bit because his interest is in the study of new ideas.
The third little pig is a mason. He loves the feel of brick and mortar. He
loves to be outside in the fresh air with the birds and the wind and the
sunshine. He loves to work with his hands. And he likes the immediate feedback
of his work. Each day he can see his accomplishments as the walls that he
builds get higher and higher.
One day, after he’d finished his house, the third pig is bored. “I need someone
to talk to, some excitement in my life,” he says to himself. “The house feels
empty. It’s too big.”
Then he has the good fortune to meet the first pig, and the third pig thinks,
“This is perfect. I need to be around music, and this guy is so expressive and
free. He’s a breath of fresh air.” So the third pig invites the first pig to
stay with him for a while.
Then the third pig has another stellar day and meets the second pig. The second
pig is so full of ideas and always evaluating and thinking. The third pig is
impressed. He thinks, “This guy would be a wonderful pig to bounce ideas off
of. New ideas don’t come to me so easily.” The third pig decides to invite the
second pig to stay with him for a while. After all, he’s got plenty of room. In
fact, the house echoes when it’s empty. He enjoys the company.
The three pigs are sitting around one evening, and the second pig says, “I
can’t seem to get the construction of my straw house right. Maybe I shouldn’t
use straw. Maybe I was wrong about straw. Maybe it won’t work after all.”
The first pig, who’s an abundance kind of pig says, “Stay with the straw. It
regenerates. And it’s everywhere. It’s a great material.”
The third pig says, “I find that bricks work well in construction. Maybe you
can find a way to turn the straw into bricks.”
The second pig says, “Like a bale?”
The third pig says, “Yes, like a bale.”
And there you go. The straw bale house was invented. It was invented in a safe
universe, where many different lifestyles contribute to a plethora of ideas and
experiences. It was invented in a universe where diversity of perspective and
experience add to the richness, and underlying quality, of life.
This is where we’re going. We’re headed toward a platform of ease, appreciation,
and exchange. And that does not mean hard work. It means that following
natural impulses and inclinations will become primary. It also means that a
fundamental trust that those impulses and inclinations add to the quality of
all life will be the norm. In practical terms, it means that the diversity of
working styles and living habits and ideas will be valued. Differences will not
be viewed as threatening. There will be no wolf.
More importantly, people will no longer measure their value by what they do.
Their value will be taken for granted. And if they measure their life at all,
it will be by the level of trust that they afford themselves in any given
situation. In illustration, they’ll feel comfortable going to bed at 3:00 a.m.
when everyone else in the neighborhood is in bed by 10:00 p.m. They’ll feel
comfortable not producing any product or service when many of their friends may
find joy in doing just that. They’ll speak their mind even when those ideas
might be contrary to what everyone else may be saying in that exact moment.
They will be confident with their everyday acts, knowing that even when they
don’t see how those acts fit into the bigger picture, those acts are still
playing an important role nonetheless. In other words, in a safe universe,
there’s a great deal of comfort with the act of being spontaneous and natural.
There is tremendous freedom to be had now and into the coming years. And that
freedom doesn’t have to happen at once. It’s fascinating to go from the belief
that you have to corral yourself, discipline yourself, organize yourself to the
idea that spontaneity, impulses, desires, intuition are not only trustworthy
but valued and fundamental attributes. I’m talking about moving from a state of
constraint to a state of ease. These are very different ways of existing, and
feeling the difference creates a level of understanding and experience all its
own. In other words, in a very real way, the act of moving from one paradigm to
the other is really the adventure itself.
Samantha Standish is a writer and a former intellectual property and corporate law lawyer. She received her B.A. in history with honors, and her B.A. in Spanish with honors, in 1989 from the University of California, Santa Barbara and went on to get her law degree Cum Laude from the University of Maine School of Law. In her legal career, Samantha worked in government and the private sector, most notably in the financial planning and software industry. In her personal life, she’s been married for twenty years and has a fifteen year-old home schooled son. Samantha resigned from the bar in 2005 and has devoted herself to bridge writing (making complex ideas about space/time easy to understand for the average reader) ever since, focusing mostly on self-help articles for artists and writing bridge books on the side. In her words, “The first forty years of my life were fact finding; the next forty years are about applying, expanding and exploring what I’ve learned.” Her books can be found at samanthastandish.com. Samantha’s NWV blog is titled The Magical Life.