Today I start this thread that I dedicate to the Inner Child of all of us here at NCC. This is a Fairy Tale for Adults from the Anthroposophical Medicine, the basis of Waldorf Pedagogy. All other stories to enlighten and nurture our hearts are SO WELCOME here.
“Yunus Emré, in very ancient times, invented chantings that would last more than the memory of his own life. He was an unquenchable searcher for the Truth. When he was around 28 years old, or perhaps even younger, a desire for knowledge came into his heart, that took him into the paths of the world.
He set out in the hope that this thirst for knowledge would lead him to a master who would enlighten him. This master was given to him to find after ten years of miserable wandering, in the great wind of a hill, in the middle of the Anatolian steppe.
His name was Taptuk and he was blind. Taptuk had also traveled a lot, but along different paths than Yunus. Still a teenager, he shaved his head, eyebrows and, wearing a red felt cap, went to fight Mongol invaders. He went through as many defeats as ephemeral victories. He rode with his saber between his teeth, chasing men as mad as himself.
Hated, looted, killed. A hundred times he lost and found his soul in the fury of fighting, until finally, silence fell over his head. On a night of defeat, he was left for dead on a battlefield, on the edge of a stream. There, a woman, the first in his existence, with the exception of some tavern prostitutes, finally leaned over him. She collected him and took care of him and even cured him. It just can’t give him back the vision that was taken from him by an enemy saber. She then offered him her life, her hand to lead him.
From that day on, guided by his wife, Taptuk dreamed of nothing other than finding, within himself, a path to the silent source from which rises the light that makes all things simple. One night in that dry desert, where no one ventures except a few lost shepherds, he reached the source. There, he built his house. Other seekers joined him, from time to time carried by, who knows, what wind of the soul. They recognized in this imposing man of few words the master they had been waiting for. They built their huts close to his, and around it they built a palisade.
When Yunus Emré arrived at this place, the monastery of Taptuk the blind, was nothing more than that. A few low huts surrounded by a dry-stone wall in the endless steppe. Taptuk, as soon as he felt the face and shoulders of this wanderer hungry for knowledge, promised him the truth.
-“It will arrive little by little” - he told him - “For now, your job will be to sweep the monastery courtyard seven times a day.”
Yunus obeyed wholeheartedly. The moment he found himself in the presence of this shaved-headed old man, an unbreakable confidence took hold of him. Seven times a day he swept the courtyard with enthusiasm, happily greeting the master and his disciples when they gathered at the wife’s house, where Taptuk, the blind man, taught every morning. But no one responded to their greetings.
-“It’s okay for the disciples to ignore me” - he said to himself - “but he who welcomed me so well into his home, why doesn’t he speak to me?”
So, a year passed. Then two and three years, without anyone speaking to him. Then his heart became heavy.
-“Without a doubt this silence means something”, he thought, "certainly my master wants to teach me something about my soul, because it is to the soul that the voiceless word is addressed.”
He reflected on his miserable loneliness, brushing away the dust that the wind brought to the monastery courtyard seven times a day. Finally, one spring morning, as he left his cabin with a broom on his shoulders, a light came to him.
-“I found out! Taptuk wants to teach me patience!” - he said to himself. His heart was filled with joy and he returned to sweeping the courtyard with renewed ardor.
Five years have passed. Two others still drained. Then three, then five new years, without his luck changing. Then, Yunus became desperate.
-"What have I done to deserve such long indifference? - he said to himself - “perhaps my master has forgotten me. Or perhaps I am not for him just an idiot collected out of pity, good only for sweeping the yard.” He strove, however, to reflect dispassionately.
One stormy night, it occurred to him that Taptuk might want to teach him humility. Amid the tormented darkness he found himself in, he smiled.
-“That’s it. He wants to teach me humility.”
The next morning, when he started work, his gestures were more measured and, because his heart was at peace, he started humming while sweeping the courtyard. Not much. words that came to him, songs that rose to his lips, and that he let go in the wind for the sole satisfaction of hearing a human voice.
Meanwhile, his trust in Taptuk gradually disappeared. This man had definitely deceived him. He had never intended to teach him what he had promised.
-“I waste my life waiting” - he said to himself.
Five years later he swept the courtyard singing, without anyone hearing him. One night, tired of this miserable existence, convinced that no one would notice his absence, he decided to leave that place where, after fifteen years of humble patience, he had found nothing but bitterness and melancholy.
He was at night walking straight ahead. He walked until dawn drunk with hopeless freedom. He felt hungry and thirsty. There was no source to get satiated. No shelter where he could regain his strength. In this infinite desert of yellowish herbs, stones and wind.
-“I’m going to die” - he said to himself - "what does it matter? It’s better to die walking than to sweep through a madman’s courtyard.
So, he walked for three whole days. On the night of the third day, just as he was about to lie down on a rock to offer his exhausted body to the vultures, he noticed a camp in the distance. He was surprised. No traveler would come to these lands. Who could these people be? He approached. He saw men sitting at the entrance to a large tent. They celebrated by laughing and talking loudly. When they saw him, they signaled him and, spinning happily, invited him to share their meal. Delicious fruits, appetizing baked goods, drinks of all colors in glass jars lay in profusion on a woolen rug.
Yunus approached them, drank, ate and finally dared to ask these people by what miracle in this hostile desert they found themselves thus provided with such rare foods as he had never tasted.
-“A voice led us here” - they said - "it is certainly the best place in the world. Every day the wind brings from afar the songs of an unknown dervish, we just have to listen to them and sing them and they soon appear before us all those succulent delicacies you see.
Yunus was ecstatic. He confessed that he had never known magic like it and dared to ask his companions if they could teach him such chants so that he would not die of hunger along the way.
-“With pleasure!” - replied the men, and began to sing.
Then Yunus, with wide eyes and open mouth, heard the chants that he himself had invented for five years as he swept the monastery courtyard. He recognized the same words he had spoken with the sole desire to deceive solitude. Songs born in his heart, hoping to chase away the melancholy. They were his work. Instantly, he understood what work he was in this world for. He experienced the pure truth in his soul. And he suffered the worst shame, thinking of Taptuk, who had instructed him, without him realizing it, like an infinitely loved son.
Then he hugged and kissed the men who had welcomed him and returned to the monastery running and crying.
-“Will Taptuk forgive me for doubting him?” - he said to himself, drinking the wind - “will he ever forgive me?”
It was already night when he reached the worm-eaten door that closed the palisade.
He knocked, calling and asking for mercy. Taptuk’s wife’s face appeared on the wall.
-“Behold, Yunus is back” - she said sweetly - "Poor child! I don’t know if Taptuk will accept you among us again. Your departure has despaired him. “What a disgrace” - he said to me, “my dearest son to me he left. What is my life worth from now on?” I will open it. You will sleep in the dirt of the courtyard. Tomorrow, when your master takes his morning walk, he will stamp his foot on your body. If he says “Who is this man?”, then you must leave forever. But if you say “Is it you, my good Yunus?”, then you will know that you can once again live in our presence. Enter my son.
Yunus lay down in the dust on the floor. At dawn he saw Taptuk, the blind man, with his wife approaching. He closed his eyes, felt a foot against his back and heard:
-“Is that you, my good Yunus?”
He stood up, intoxicated with light and happiness. He ran to his broom and began sweeping the yard again.