Controversial Topics - Fire in the Garden
The thesis of theoretical physicist Leonard Mlodinow’s book Subliminal, is that the “new unconscious” rules our behavior. People will make major decisions based on the stories they’ve collected even when those decisions are clearly not in their self-interest. They stay in their ideological lane even when it hurts them. This doesn’t sound very hopeful, does it?
But it does line up with our experience. We can’t understand how people can behave and think the way they do. It amazes us and we judge them.
This week’s story “Fire in the Garden” is about something controversial. A “hot button” issue that would excite and polarize some of the listenership if I laid it out as an argument. But it is not an argument, it is a story. And since it is a story, then you will listen to it. This, I believe, is the best and most effective way to get people to listen to your point of view - to tell a story.
[01:07] Introduction
[06:00] Information on our Story Listening Tool
[07:27] Audio Story - Fire in the Garden
Controversial Topics - Fire in the Garden
Full transcript
The community hushed when the ancient peony pixie stepped up onto the granite, smiled sweetly and humbly began to tell the story. “Look around you” she began. “Look around at our most wondrous garden. See the different leaves, the different blossoms. The different colors and textures and sounds as the breeze moves through them. Smell all the different smells. And if you are near a drop of dew, taste it and know this particular drop of dew will taste very different than your neighbors. We live in a paradise. It is true, magical, loving paradise. But this all happened long ago because of a fire.”
Okey dokey. How about we just jump right into the fire? So that is a snippet from a story we produced as a part of the Stories from the Well series called Fire in the Garden. And it is a story that includes topics like bias and oppression and privilege and marginalization. Topics that one might think we should agree on, but no, we actually don't. The fact is we don't agree on most topics because we as human beings tend to believe what we believe and we dismiss and argue against and simply don't hear what we don't believe in. Now this isn't an indictment at all. As far as I can tell from the limited study I've done, this is actually what human beings kind of do. This is a mechanism that we've developed over a long period of time in order to survive. We create a network of stories and we decide that they are true. And it's the basis of our reality and we fight to the end to defend it.
It's very difficult to change people's minds, not because they're not smart or because they're under the influence of some hysteria. But because they're human beings, because we have the brains that we have. Which, let me be very clear, is not an excuse to not make necessary changes in policy and the way that we treat each other. Our civilization is a progressive one. We have successfully changed people's minds in the past. I could list some terrible things that were pretty commonplace in the olden days that horrify us now. So the thing is progress brings us new stories and then eventually we do change. So the question for people who want to bring change is often, how do we do this? How do we get people to listen to us and make those necessary changes? We have lots of problems that need solutions right now, but people won't listen.
So how do we do this? Well, if I'm understanding the neuroscience and the evolutionary psychology and well, how religions seem to work, the answer is yes... Conscious Storytelling. And what is conscious storytelling? It's the awareness that a story consists of the content, the story; of a communicator of the content, the storyteller; and then an audience, the listener. And here's the thing, if you want to be effective in your storytelling, you don't actually start with the content. You start with listening. You listen. You listen to the audience before you speak. You pay attention to the audience first, and then you'll know what to say. Then comes the story. They will listen to your story if they believe that you are listening to them.
And the story you're about to hear was written and recorded a bunch of years ago and it was in response to a social policy that was the source of quite a bit of political consternation. You may or may not be able to figure out what that policy is, but in a way it really doesn't matter because since then the temperature has only gone up. What I'd like you to consider is that you also have your opinions and entrenched stories and you still are going to listen to my story. Even if you don't agree with the content or why I'm telling you this story, you're going to listen to it. You really will. And it's going to work on you. And in time, regardless of your political or cultural or spiritual beliefs, the story will become a part of you and it will continue to work on you and work on you. This is how we can use stories to connect and influence when nothing else can.
I have a quick question before I tell you the story. The question is this, is there an idea that is important to you that you wish more people believed in?
Is there a solution that you've discovered to a problem that lots of people have? A problem that is common, that you want to spread the good news, that there's a solution?
Well, this is a place that I'm familiar with and regardless of what it is that you wanna say to people, you're going to want to pay attention to your listener first, before you start telling them the solutions. You're going to want to better read your room. And we have a tool for this. It's called Story Listening and it's designed for specifically this purpose. So if you're interested, go to our website, howtostory.org, find it on our list of courses. You can find it under Storytelling Education. And while you're there, you can check out the library of all sorts of other stories that are there, as well as storytelling tips and things that are going to help you get a toe hold on this process. Alright, so here is the story.
Fire in the Garden
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful bountiful garden that was tucked in the center of a forest where a house once stood and the grounds were once cultivated for fruits and vegetables and very particular flowers. Though the house was now gone, the apple trees overgrown and the vegetable garden long transformed, the remaining flower garden was truly a paradise of color and form and texture and smell. There were wild flowers mixed with roses, mixed with fruit blossoms, mixed with spiraea and poppies and flowering shrubs and big dramatic peonies. And like any garden, each of those flowers had a flower fairy looking out for them, tending them and representing them to the rest of the garden. Now before you picture a certain kind of garden, try to let go of seeing anything specifically organized where different flowers and plants have certain areas or certain colors create desired combinations or pathways, where it's easy to weed or truly any kind of singular organization that is planned out in advance.
No, this garden was alive in all senses of the word. Not only was it abundant in variety, but it was constantly changing. And this was in large part because the fairy life there liked it that way. They liked the never ending conversations that took place as apple tree elves discussed possible saplings with oat grass pixies. Or butterfly bush fairies and sunflowers worked out the best use of the morning light. The garden was alive with plants, yes, but it was also alive with animals and bugs and birds and fairy chatter. So much chatter as the fairies learned about each other and deepened their mutual respect and love.
It was a special day for the garden fairies. On the morning after the first new moon of summer, they had a tradition where one of the older flower fairies gathered the young fairy apprentices together and told them the story of how the garden came to be.
Oh, this was important. It was vital to the garden community because it helped them not only appreciate and feel gratitude for what they had, but it reminded them of how challenging it used to be. Challenging for all the flowers in different ways, but especially challenging for some particular flowers.
Every year it was a different flower fairy, and this year the storyteller was going to be a very special storyteller because her flower was truly at the center of an impacting chapter in the garden's history. The fairy was the old peony pixie, a fairy that was well respected in the garden as someone who had been in the garden for a very long time and had trained so many apprentices over the years. She was kind and generous and so very humble, which was important to the telling of this story because the peony pixies of the past were not humble. No, not very humble at all.
On the morning of the story, all the apprentices came and sat around a thick pinkish slab of granite that had always been in the center of the garden. The other flower, grass and tree fairies gathered around the apprentices and the community hushed. When the ancient peony pixie stepped up onto the granite, smiled sweetly and humbly began to tell the story. “Look around you”, she began. “Look around at our most wondrous garden, see the different leaves, the different blossoms, the different colors and textures and sounds as the breeze moves through them. Smell all the different smells. And if you are near a drop of dew, taste it and know this particular drop of dew will taste very different than your neighbors. We live in a paradise. It is true, a magical loving paradise. But this all happened long ago because of a fire.”
The fairies all knew that the story truly started at this point and that it would have high points of beauty and cooperation, but some very low points of tragedy and enduring strife. They settled and readied themselves for this important and often challenging story.
A long, long time ago, this garden wasn't a garden at all but a field of grass. It was beautiful in its own way with its tall, sharp blades and shimmering golden buds that stretched up toward the sun. And of course the many thousands of spiders and gnats, which flit about dancing and singing all about the grasses. It was a beautifully balanced time for the field and all lived in harmony.
But then in time, a regular wind brought with it seeds of a particular flower that was native to the area, violet clover flowers, which had very slowly over generations moved across the plains and forests. Well, it blew into the field and over many years began to populate the grass with its bloom. At first there was confusion and some challenge as the grass elves that had been there for as long as there was a field complained that the clover pixies were slowly growing more numerous and changing the field. But the pixies asked for forgiveness and patience and it was not long before the grass elves and the clover pixies worked side by side. It was discovered that the clover blossoms brought bees and butterflies and the pasture benefited and enjoyed the new smells and tastes and colors. Now this was the case for a very long time, and then something quite sudden and disruptive happened. One day across the sky overhead flew an enormous flock of birds.
The birds had traveled thousands of miles from the south and were migrating to the north to breed. Normally these birds did not fly over this field, but the weather and the wind nudged them toward the field and the many fairies watched in awe as they passed by. What they did not notice at first was that some of the birds dropped a gathering of seeds that came from a far away land to the south. They didn't notice that the seeds fell to the field and tumbled down into the rich meadow soil below. And there they stayed for the autumn into winter, waiting for the spring. And in the spring they took root and they began to grow. It was at this point that the meadow fairies noticed a few new faces. Pixies from a foreign land.
Pixies that looked quite different than they did, and it took a while for them to understand each other. But in time, the native fairies welcomed these new folk and then in the late spring, they all marveled at the beautiful blossoms that came from these new plants. These were called peonies. The blossoms were huge and fragrant and looked very different than the clover blossoms and the golden grain from the grasses. The bees and birds loved having these new flowers. And for a while, the excitement of the stranger brought happiness and the sense of possibility to the fairy community.
Now, the peonies blossoms bloomed and thrived, and then the peony pixies suggested to the other fairies that perhaps more flowers could come to the field as well. Now those that knew the story realized that this request brought a very challenging and conflicting time to the field. So they braced a little. Those that did not know the story thought it made perfect sense to invite more flowers. The more the better as far as they were concerned. But they didn't realize what was about to happen. “The peonies spoke to the wind sprites” continued the old peonies pixie, “and they sent word to bring certain seeds to the field. Certain and particular seeds that were familiar to the peonies pixie and certain seeds of plants they knew would work very well with the peonies. They didn't really consider the needs and desires of the grasses or the clover and simply assumed that all would be well. They believed this field needed their unique vision for what the future could hold.
But all was not well. The seeds that arrived brought a variety of flowers, it was true, but they took hold of the rich, fertile land and grew and grew and grew until it wasn't long before much of the grass and clover was reduced to small pockets along the edges. It happened so quickly that the grass and clover didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. The peony pixies meanwhile were too busy building the new garden to notice that the grass and clover were not happy. They were too excited and proud of the plan, of the possibility of a beautiful garden, unlike any that had been enjoyed there before. More flowers came and arrived, seeing that clearly the peony pixies were in charge. The sunflower and indigo sprites and poppy and daisy fairies listened to the plan of the peony pixies and did their best to adapt to the plan, to use their shape and beauty to best contribute to the garden.
But in time, it became too much for the pixies to organize too much ground to cover in too much work to be done by fairies alone. And they resolved to bring on a family of people, of human gardeners to help them. Again they used the wind sprites to attract just the right kind of person that could help them. A family soon came to the field and in one corner built a small house. In another far corner they dug a well. They cut down some trees to make the field bigger, and the peony pixies worked very hard to encourage the people to adjust their plans to accommodate a beautiful garden filled with flowers. However, a garden centered around one particular bloom, the peony. And they did it.
The family worked the soil. They used the nutrient water from the well to wet the earth and pulled out plants that did not suit the garden plan and declared them weeds.
Some of these weeds were grasses and clover that had been there for centuries. The gardeners shifted plants to certain quadrants so that they became accents to the peonies' unique beauty. And they built an extraordinary garden that was filled with thriving peonies that were supported by other plants and flowers in a very specific way. The peony pixies were thrilled. This had gone exactly to plan. The land had changed to accommodate their needs. The soil itself had adapted to making the peonies thrive, created just the right acidity for that particular blossom. And gardeners made the peonies unique needs their highest priority. But what the peony pixies did not notice was that the other fairies were not very happy. They were not thriving. They did not like the acidic soil or the way the garden was designed. They no longer liked this plan and they wanted the garden to change.
Change was not easy. First of all, the peonies had built an entire garden based on them. The soil, the bugs, the birds, the forest animals all supported their thriving and made it very difficult for other flowers to grow. Sometimes the people would dig up a particularly beautiful sunflower or butterfly bush and transplant it into a garden pot. Yes, the flower would grow, but it grew where the people chose, not where it wanted to grow. The other fairies all agreed it was not fair, and some were actually able to leave. When they went to seed, they allowed themselves to be blown to another place, another field, or be taken away by a bird or an animal. They were done with this peony garden. Some flowers and their fairies had to stay. They had no choice. They were too small seeds, too light. They had no choice and some couldn't leave the generations of plants that had always been there.
Where would they go, they wondered. Likely it was difficult in this way and other places as well. At least this is what they told themselves. Others chose to stay with the intention of changing the garden. They tried reasoning with the peonies and found that many of the peony pixies were open to change. They were open to changing the design or letting certain sections of the garden focus on other flowers. But was it change really? The other fairies wondered, was this the change they were seeking? And then came some events that brought sweeping change to the field change that was natural, but didn't happen very often. First came the gypsy moths.
At this point in the story, many of the fairies felt nervous and tense. They knew that this was when things got very difficult for the flowers and their fairies, and some of them experienced great hardship and even pain. The moths were really only a problem for the surrounding trees. But to the garden fairies, it felt like a warning. It signaled that something was wrong. That if the trees were now weak enough to attract the invading gypsy moths, what else was weak? What else was unhealthy? What did this mean for the future? For the peony pixies, it only meant entrenching even further. They believed that the best soil, the best water from the well, the best sunlight needed to be theirs. The ones that understood this garden the best, the ones that would help the entire garden survive this gypsy moth episode. They believed that they were the most important because they would make better decisions for the rest of the garden.
And the other fairies did not believe this, but they did their best to survive the gypsy moths. That is until the grasshoppers came.
This was much worse and it affected all the plants now. Grasses, shrubs, trees, definitely the flowers, every one of them. And now it was a full garden emergency. All the flowers were affected, but some more than others. The fairies were able to work together to save as many flowers and grasses and shrubs and trees as they could. But it was clear that the flowers along the edges of the garden had it far worse than those close to the house. And it couldn't be ignored that an entire row of peonies were actually covered by the family with netting and thus saved from the grasshoppers. It was the garden's most difficult challenge to date. But it was followed by an even larger challenge.
There was a fire. Here all the listening fairies winced with worry and tension because they were all familiar with the peril of fire. It was part of nature, they all knew this. Fires happen and they must happen. It's how the natural world keeps itself in check. What was there is burned and what returns is what is either most healthy or most authentic to that area. It was a kind of reset. But it was a scary reset and one that made all the fairies feel nervous.
Well, no one knows how the fire started, but there were rumors that it began inside the house. The people escaped from the house and then went off the property unhurt. But the house burned to the ground as well as many of the trees in almost all of the garden. Here the flowers along the edge of the forest were safest, and it was the flowers closest to the house that were most in harm's way.
When the flames were gone and the wreckage was assessed, the fairies could see that most of the grasses and clover and many low growing flowers that congregated around the well survived. But many of the larger, more cultivated, more protected and potted flowers did not make it. And this included the peonies. All of the fairies sat in silence for a while after the peonies pixie told this part of the story. It was a sad part, but they also knew it was what came before a very happy part. A part that led to what they all enjoyed to that day. Now came the fallow days. She continued with a heavy tone. The blooms were few and small, and most of the attention was on the soil rebuilding slowly and recovering so that perhaps one day the plants could bloom again. And there was no one to carry the water from the well so the moisture moved much more slowly and steadily underground as it used to.
The grass elves had guidance to offer, but so did the clover pixies .Trillium fairies from the woods helped out, but so did the sturdy sunflower sprites. All of the flower fairies stepped forward to help however they could. With no one fairy leading the way. It was like no one wanted to be the final word anymore, but everyone wanted a voice. At different times the poppy sprites had the most to say, but then it shifted to the daisy fairies. But there was a turning point when they found some peony roots that had survived, and their shaken but quiet, peony fairies hiding nearby. They all took care of the peony roots and the peony fairies. They nurtured the fairies back to health and noticed that these formally confident and powerful fairies were now quite humble. Perhaps even a little sad. At first the other fairies gave the peony fairies extra space while they cleaned up. But it wasn't long before the peony fairies joined in. They helped however they could. And when it was time to plant seeds and roots for the coming season, they chose to hold back. “Maybe next year”, said the peony fairy. “Leave the nutrients to the daisies and the irises. They need it, and we had our day. “
The other fairies appreciated the gesture, but decided that all the flowers would return together all at the same time so that they could all be counted and celebrate in the recovery together. And this is what happened. That first year may have looked like a jumble of plants here and there without any organization or flow or even a plan. But it didn't take long for them to see new patterns, new shapes and color combinations that hadn't occurred to anyone before. Plants shifted the way they grew to make way for other plants, and then when it was time to toss seeds into the air, they tried experimenting with new locations and positions became a grand experiment. Every year the garden was a little different. Some things resembled the year before, but a new flower might try blooming near the stone or at the north edge of the forest or next to a stand of sunflowers.
Flowers were given freedom to tinker, to experiment, to dream. With lots and lots of conversation, it worked. The garden worked, and soon all the fairies agreed that what they had created together, their wondrous garden, was indeed something of a celebration. It was a celebration of difference. One in which the sharp serious leaves of the iris complimented the boisterous enthusiasm of a sunflower blossom. Or the explosions of the poppy bloom were tempered by the silvery leaves of lamb's ears. It was an orchestra of color, a bazaar of smells and tastes and perfect community of fairies. One built on mutual appreciation, deep listening and pride in who they are and the value they bring each other.
This was a moment when the storyteller gave lots of room for the young fairy apprentices to fully appreciate what they had in the garden. The pixies and sprites and elves would look around and see all the different shapes and sizes and smells and textures and smile at them knowing that it was not chaos that brought this to be. They knew that it was not something random that made this garden so beautiful, but that it was a constant, respectful, joyful appreciation of all the differences that make up such a garden and how important it is to step forward sometimes. But often, but more often, to step back and make room and make fertile the ground for someone else.
The How to Story theme music was produced by Javon Phelps. The story music was by Angus Sewell McCann. Today's story was edited by my co-teacher over at How to Story, Meredith Makow. And the How to Story Podcast is produced by me, David Sewell McCann, and Marjorie Shik.
We hope to hear from you and we'll catch you next week.
