Jack And The Beanstalk—A Life Lesson

February 6, 1994

Samuel: Well greetings, dears.

Greetings, Samuel.

S: Good. How about … [as Donna brings in her weekly offering of flowers] Hello, dear. [Several people exclaim about the arrangement.] You think the flower fairy knows what she’s doing, eh?

Gifts. I want two this night, and I want them to be oriented toward what—this is a trick, now—this month—this month covers a lot of things for a lot of different reasons-what this month is for you. Two gifts, all right? All right.

I think I’ve got this one all day. I asked the Universe for some specific help in broadening my horizons. I have beliefs about myself that I don’t realize I have. I mean, it’s just I am who I think I am. I got a job offer with my sister Joan, and it’s in like, not a nursing field, but that sort of thing—working with patients, working with IVs and things like that. Well, you know, no way is that me. I mean, I’m a flower fairy. But I thought, well, I want to broaden my horizons and here’s this opportunity, so I’m going to take it. And I’m absolutely amazed at myself. I mean, I’m a person who is doing something that … I believe there would be no way I could do. So the whole month for me is going to be broadening my horizons and amazing myself.

S: Beautiful. Well done. Who is it that you love, darling, when you’re willing to stretch your limits?

Me.

S: Yes. Good work.

So February is a month to stretch. What else? Yes?

Last weekend was my birthday, and a friend and I decided to have a late lunch and party. And it just happened, the way we wanted to do it happened to fall the day before my birthday. We had to cancel it because she had surgery, and I realized that I was depressed about it and not terribly happy, because I had been anticipating it, for the first time in my life, somebody making a big deal about my birthday. And then I had a gift in that I realized that, and went through the emotion, and then that day came around and there was this surprise birthday party for me. So it was a greater gift than had it been a party. And I realized that I was very happy to accept the love and attention from everybody, where I used to be very shy and difficult. So I realized I had changed my foundational beliefs about myself and my own possibilities.

S: And tell me what the bottom line is, what the words there are. What was that belief that had changed?

That I wasn’t lovable.

S: Yes, good.

Somebody tell me a gift you just got from that gift because there are a couple there that just spring out right away. Tell me a gift you received from Jennifer’s gift. [Pause] Not awake this night, is that it? Are you needing a bit of jolting this night? Aye.

Vulnerability and loving myself is something that is always with me all the time. And knowing that she’s going through it also, it’s like a condition in humanity. A lot of people have to struggle with this. And knowing that makes it … it almost makes the problem disappear, because it’s kind of a universal thing when you say, you know, that I’m lovable and you’re lovable. It really doesn’t serve us, and it’s not the truth about us, either.

S: And to reword what you’re saying, if you do not mind very much, you’re saying that you’re not alone.

Right.

S: Sometimes in your fears—and when you realize that it is something that is maybe a common thought, you can realize that maybe then it’s not so like that, powerful over you.

Joy?

I think it’s like your Volkswagen-Cadillac story, when the Universe just—you might think—her party might have been the Volkswagen, but the Universe had something better in mind, and she got even more than she bargained for. And sometimes if we don’t get the first thing, if we hang in there and trust, there’s something better to be had.

S: Goodness! Have you ever found that to be so? In this world? That when you set out, “All right, Universe, I want this Volkswagen,” that it hands you the Cadillac. Have you ever found that to be so? Well glory be, if you have, because honestly speaking, it’s not the common end of it. Not because the Universe doesn’t want you to have Cadillacs, but because you’re insisting that it be a souped-up Volkswagen. I mean that. What am I saying there? You’re willing to settle for less as long as it’s polished. You’ve allowed yourself to believe that that’s what there is for you, and so that’s what you get. And when you allow yourself to say, well, that’s not what I’m saying anymore, you’re often still putting a hold on the Universe by saying it’s got to be this particular fashion in this particular way. The reason that so often you get the Volkswagens instead of the Cadillacs maybe is because you’re not finished with the Volkswagen yet. Maybe you don’t know how to drive a Cadillac. Maybe. But maybe you do, and maybe you are ready, but you’re insisting that it be a green one with gold stripes and that it be this year and that it have this much gas left in it or put in it for you, and the Universe is having to take longer to fulfill your particular demands. That happens, too.

And perhaps there is another thing in this very, very lovely gift, and that is Jennifer realized how loved she was because her friends gathered together to do this thing to celebrate her birth. Do you realize the power you have to make someone else feel something? Are you aware of the power you have to make someone smile, or cry? And are you conscious in your dealings because of that power that you have?

All right. Powerful month. I have presents for you. We are going to start with the presents. Are these my presents? Aye, I suppose so. What is this [confetti]?

Hearts.

S: Hearts? All right. That’s what I’m after. Now, why would I be handing you hearts?

It’s Valentine’s.

S: Now, let’s talk for a moment about Valentines. First, I’ve got to tell you it’s “Valen-teen,” not “Valen-tine.” “Constan-teen,” not “Constan-tine.” Valentine. [Samuel continues to pronounce the long “e” sound.] Who was Valentine? Do you know? And why is he related to hearts? I hope I’ve got a story for you tonight quite different than anything you might be particularly familiar with when you associate with this very powerful and important month stories instead that have to do with wee, tinesy angels shooting arrows through your heart.

Tell me about St. Valentine’s Day. What do you know? Aye?

Wasn’t he a priest?

S: Good. Excellent.

… that was locked up in jail, and he tried to send love to …

S: All right, I’ll make you stop. You know the story. I don’t want it out yet. I want the puffed hearts and the candy and the little decorations that you send to one another in school. Not yet; you’re still a step ahead, but it’s a good step. Just wait.

All right, give me your story. What is this date? What’s it about? Aye.

Well, when I was little, it was this wonderful time of light lacey doilies and red hearts and candy, and it was a time of taking a risk, of sending a valentine to maybe a little boy who I didn’t know liked me or not, and taking a risk that maybe it might not be appreciated or it might not be returned. So it was always kind of a little bit scary time for me, but I did take the risks, but it was always a bit frightening.

S: Early on, an opportunity to know that rejection was possible. What a lovely thing to do for the children!

More. Aye.

When I was in school, we bought like boxes, whole packages, of valentine cards—there were thirty in a box—and everybody had our mothers make these boxes out of shoe boxes and put lace and hearts on them, and we gave these valentines to everybody, and that was a lot of fun, and you made new friends, and you thought about people, you know, you really thought about someone..

S: It was still an opportunity to reach out, connect. What’s the story with the candy?

The little hearts with sayings on them?

S: Maybe that. I just know that it’s also associated these days very much with candy. Is there some purpose in that? Wait for the sweets. It’s really not a statement saying I hope your teeth rot out, your blood sugar gets out of control and that you’re unhealthy for the next few days? That’s really not the statement you’re making? Because it’s sort of like handing over arsenic, now, don’t you know? But that was sort of an interesting thing to do on a day that represents love: Here, let me kill you slowly.

Isn’t that what marriage is all about?

S: Watch that.

Well, Valentine’s Day will be special for us because it will always be the anniversary of Peggy’s death.

S: Aye, indeed. See what you’ve done, Peggy?

This is the last month for her candle.

S: Indeed, aye. And flowers, aye? It’s a big flower day. Send lots of flowers. Why flowers?

Everlasting love.

S: Aye. Ultimately it’s a day of expressing your heart to another, isn’t it? Well, it’s not actually the direction I’m going this night, and I’m still in fast forward to go over this to get to my point, because tonight’s story night. You do not think I’d let them go without it, do you?

But very quickly, St. Valentine’s Day represents the martyrdom of a Christian priest.

Was he beheaded?

S: Well now, it depends on whether you know him or not, or if you just know the story that came after it. Furthermore, you might have a question of whether there was simply one or if there were two. There was a priest in Rome and a bishop in Malta. I don’t think that’s the name of the place anymore. Nonetheless, both of them were called Valentine, and a saint was made out of one. The point simply is that it’s a day celebrating the fairly gruesome death of somebody who tried to help people. I think that fits with sending candy, don’t you? And exactly how that got related to little cupids making lovers come together has little to do with what Valentine had to talk about, and more to do with what was actually celebrated the following day. Anybody know what February 15 had been a celebration of? Does the word Lupercalia mean anything to any of your pagan bones? Lupercalia? Well, lupus—does that say anything?

Wolf.

S: Wolf, yes. It was the festival of the wolf, a Roman holiday representing the particular god that was represented by the wolf. It was a fertility holiday. It was a day that represented masculine strength. In fact, the celebration was that the town’s virgins would stand in the square and be … whipped, actually, with wolf skins. And that was a fertility rite. When it was time for the Christian calendar to put together what the citizens would actually celebrate, the closest they could find to Lupercalia was this particular martyred saint. Doesn’t it make sense that your celebration of fertility and change would be St. Valentine’s Day?

So, thought I’d pass that on just for fun.

All right. But I have a purpose for this, and this has much more to do with Jennifer’s gift and the point that I was making out of it than it does actually Valentine’s Day, and that is, when you give your heart away, you have no idea what you’re planting, what you’re creating, the power that you have over another when you’re willing to give your heart.

So my desire this night is that every one of you have a few hearts, not to keep, but to give away … to somebody—to somebody—somewhere. Maybe it’s the clerk at the grocery store, that you just reach in your pocket and you find one of these silly little [hearts], and you say, “I want you to have that, just as a reminder that your smile’s been a very wonderful part of my day, and there’s a little piece of my heart for you.” Or perhaps it’s to somebody that you love and care very much about, that you want to remind them that they have your heart.

Or perhaps—come here, Frank. [Puts a heart on Frank’s forehead.] That’s not something you’ll see very often, Frank with a heart on. So … I’m not sure this is going to make cable.

Would you, my soul, pick somewhere in this room to start that [bowl of confetti hearts] going around, and then sort of keep an eye out to make sure that it keeps going. And if you, my souls, are committed to this month giving a bit of your heart away, take a few of those, and make it your challenge—give a piece away.

I’ve had a very lovely time over the last few weeks talking in Atlanta and Pittsburgh and Toronto, a bit of story time. And the purpose has been to, as I generally open up the evening, to just manipulate as much as I can your tender emotions. There are many changes coming up in the world right now, and you’re very needed. You are very needed. But so very often, the freedom to change, the willingness to be vulnerable, to try something new, to risk, is just too hard. Your society has given you myths interwoven with myths. For instance, what does Sleeping Beauty teach you but that you’re never going to get out of the rut you’re in until your prince comes, and hopefully he’s got enough of a kiss to wake you up and get you going. Or that it’s going to take the intervention of some fairy godmother, or maybe a few magic beans, before anything of worth will ever happen to you.

Your myths permeate [perpetuate?] a teaching of powerlessness. And in a world that says “no pain, no gain,” in a world that challenges your ability to find out what you might be worth lest you might fail, I think it’s time for a bit of change.

I would like to present one of your myths to you with a bit of a different purpose behind it. You tell me when you recognize the story, all right?

Once upon a time, long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, once upon a time there was a young gentleman who lived with his poor widowed mother. They did not have very much. In fact, about the only thing they had was a cow, and sure enough the time came that the cow’s milk dried up and they had … yes?

Jack and the Beanstalk.

S: Absolutely. … did not have very much except the hope that the cow might bring in enough money to pay their living for another couple of months. What happened? Start telling me the story. Therefore … What happened?

He traded the cow for beans.

S: Who did? What did? What happened here?

His mother sent him out to sell the cow.

S: Mother sent who?

Jack.

S: Jack. Sent Jack out to sell the cow. What happened.

On the way he ran into a fellow who had some magic beans.

S: And he met somebody who said, “I have exactly what you need. What is it that you’re wanting, Jack, dear. Are you wishing that you had the prosperity that you’ve been looking for? Are you wishing that all of your dreams could come true? Well, I have just what you need, and let me tell you, I’ll trade it for that scrawny little cow you’ve got there.

Well, Jack, being the smart fellow that he was, never willing to let go of a good deal, immediately handed over the cow and took in a handful of …beans. Not just any beans—magic beans. He immediately went home and said to his mother, “Never fear, Jack is here. I have taken care of it all. Never again are we going to ever have a worry, because …,” and she was so excited she interrupted and said, “Because you got a lot more money from some poor fool for that stupid cow. Tell me, how much?”

And he said, “I’ve got something better than money.” Immediately, she got worried. Somebody you could relate to, I see. And she said, “What?”

And he said, “I have these magic beans.”

Very angrily, she grabbed them out of his hand, tossed them out the window, and said, “You idiot. Don’t you know that nobody in this village dreams anymore? Don’t you know that the poverty—and the writer of this story—have made it so that we don’t believe in magic?” All right, maybe she did not say that, but she may have just as well, don’t you think? And sent Jack to be without his supper.

What happened next? During the night, while everybody was sleeping, slowly—no, quickly—those beans sprouted and sent stalks up to Shambala. Heaven. Where else would a poor village find a city in the clouds. This must be some sort of great spiritual story now, don’t you think?

And what did Jack do?

He climbed it.

S: He climbed the beanstalk. What did Jack find? A castle, a giant. What else?

A golden goose.

S: A golden goose, and it wasn’t the form. What else?

A magic harp.

S: A magic harp. Anything else? That was probably enough. A wife. Some stories have a giant’s wife or a housekeeper; that’s right, that’s in there, too. What else? That’s basically it. What happened?

The giant. Fee, fie, foe, fum.

S: Thank you. Here it is. Jack climbs the ladder to success and finds all of his dreams. There is the castle he always wanted to live in. He walks inside, and everything’s on a larger scale than he could possibly dream of, a much larger scale, actually. He finds that there is a goose, quite a remarkable goose—this goose lays golden eggs, and Jack boy wants golden omelets the rest of his life. Well, all right, he wants the eggs, anyway.

There is a harp. Now, what is special about this harp? It sings, it talks.

It’s made of gold.

S: Probably carved out of one of those magical eggs, don’t you think. And there is also a giant, don’t you know it? Don’t you know it? Just when you find everything you’ve ever wanted and the answer to all of your dreams, the giant shows up.

What’s the giant in your life, darling? Well, that’s a bit later.

Our Jack … I don’t know why—perhaps because he is chatting with the housekeeper when the giant comes in, and what is his little litany? Do you know it?

“Fee fie foe fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.”

S: And I tell you, you can smell ‘em. It’s true, don’t you think? Didn’t have to be a very bright giant for that one…. Just a bit of Scots humor there.

And Jack hid, not being an idiot. Yes, he hid. Being loyal, however, the wife swept him out from his hiding place and said, “Hey, lookey here. Do you think that this is here for dinner?” Jack knew it didn’t mean that he was the guest of honor; it meant that he was probably the feast of honor. And I suppose that the story continues that they put him away in a bit of a wooden cage while he got fattened up, or at least overnight—depending again upon the nature of the story that you read.

And how was it that he got away?

Cunning.

S: Cunning, yes, but it’s because the magic harp talked to him. You think you hear voices. The magic harp talked to him and helped him come up with a plan of escape, which, to make this very long story very, very short for my purposes this night, he escaped with the harp, with the goose, down the stalk, cut it apart. And if the giant was coming after him—again depending upon your story—fell to the ground and died or was never able to reach the—what?—earth? Because the stalk was cut down.

Sweet souls, what is this story about? What is this story about? And why ever would I tell it in Valentine’s month? You were thinking that, at the very least, it might be a Lughnassadh story, eh? What is this about?

Taking risks.

S: Taking risks, yes, that’s absolutely in there.

Facing your fears?

S: And facing your fears is in there. It’s sounding more and more like a love story, isn’t it?

And what else?

Believing in yourself.

S: Believing in yourself and having desires to go after. You’re catching on. Give me more.

Overcoming.

S: Overcoming.

Help comes from places you never knew it could.

S: Maybe your harp.

Jack was you, moving down the road of life, hoping you can do the best you can where you are with what you have, which happens to be a cow at the time, a skinny one that’s milkless, at that. And into Jack’s life pops somebody who says, “There is magic. Do you still have dreams, Jack? There is magic.”

And Jack took that magic in his hands, and with absolute delight went home to immediately be told, “What have you done, you stupid child? It’s the cult, I’m sure.” Bean cult. “You can’t’ do that; it’s never been done. How dare you dream! Nobody does that anymore.”

You know, everybody in their life keeps someone like that around just to ensure that, whenever they need the excuse, they never have to risk living while they’re alive. Everyone in your life keeps the magic bean salesperson and the great scoffer, and, depending upon what you’ve decided you need at the moment, you draw out one of those—the great scoffer that says, no you can’t; or the bean salesperson that says, yes, you can.

Jack had a dream, and most of you have had your dreams trampled by this earth village for a very long time. Perhaps trampled by your own perfectionism, by your own need that insists that you can never be wrong, and therefore you never, ever have the opportunity to find out if you can be right. The middle is just fine. Perhaps you don’t dream because—oh, you call them dreams, but all they really are are your survival instincts with words attached. They’re not anything that has to do with what makes you happy.

What is it that makes you happy? And when you give away a piece of your heart, are you giving anything? The beans actually manifested not the riches, not anything more than potential, because in order for anything to happen, Jack had to climb the beanstalk. It was quite a risk, quite a risk, because he might climb to the top and find there’s nothing there, mightn’t he? And if some of you were in the audience, I’m sure that you were standing there saying, “What an idiot! I’ve done that before. All it does is tire you out.”

Jack climbed to the top, and he found a castle, and immediately his “I want it all now” too over and the giant showed up—they usually work together, don’t they? And Jack got punished for trying, didn’t he? And Jack got punished for trying, didn’t he? What a pitiful lesson to give your children.

However, something helped Jack. Was it the riches that could be offered, represented by the goose that could lay the golden egg? Note the goose was not that which spoke; no, it was the creativity represented by the harp that could sing, that could speak. Jack’s escape was due to creative influence. What is creativity? That’s the doorway from the body to the soul. What are you doing with your creativity? Are you allowing it to help you escape the bonds of the giant holding your from having the riches you want?

Well, Jack’s particular creative influence happened to be a harp that spoke to him. Can you imagine that? There you are, minding your own business, and all of a sudden you look over and there is a lute speaking. You think this night is odd! Is that what it would take for you to hear? Does it have to be outrageous before you get it? Do you demand that the Universe break every rule of natural law in order for you to understand the language? That’s what this is, you know.

And the lute said, “Jack, I will play the giant a very sweet song after he’s had his meal this night, and when he’s asleep, you run off. But listen, you’ve got to take me and you’ve got to take the goose with you, because we really long down below to the village he stole us from a long time ago.”

And following that creative muse, if you will, Jack followed those instructions, ran off with the goods, took them to the village, and lived happily ever after, doling out in bits and pieces of eggs and song to the rest of the villagers so that they would not be unhappy with all of his riches, right? No, that’s not how the story goes at all. He brought them his gifts, to the people he loved. Sweet darlings, this is a love story beyond any love story. You can listen to it on the level of how you are doing loving you or on the level of your relationships out in the world with others. Maybe think of a relationship you’re in right now or the sort of love you want to have. Have you settled for the cow when you want the magic? Do you believe that there’s magic there? Who’s the one in your life that’s the bearer of bad news: “You stupid idiot, don’t you know that he’s too young, he’s too old, she’s too young, she’s too old?” What else do they say? What else do those … not educated enough; not worthy enough; not worthy of you. What else do you hear? What does that wee voice inside your head say to keep you safe and away from something new? Keeping you safe from risking your heart. Does t say things like, the cow would have been better than this? Better to keep the old than risk the new. Better not try.

Jack had to take—bad word I’m about to say here—action. He had to climb the beanstalk. And darlings, I would like to propose to you a different version of the story in which it’s quite a large beanstalk and Jack had to do some special preparation. He had to get himself in shape and make sure he had the right tools and equipment, and make sure he was properly prepared for this. Would you go climbing a beanstalk into the clouds without knowing what it is you were after? Sure you would; you do it all the time, and then you wonder why things go wrong. You wonder why you did not have what you needed. You wonder why the world is so cruel that it’s not giving in to you one more time. You wonder why you’re so familiar with the word “karma.” Because you don’t do what you can to know where you are and what’s needed at the moment. You don’t prepare for your love—why should you? You don’t prepare for your life. You know, you think you know what you want, who you want, what a relationship should be like, but what are you doing to make yourself something someone else wants?

I’m going to ask you a very bold question here: Are you worth the love you’re demanding? And I’m not talking on a spiritual scale, because I’m here to guarantee you are. I mean in the world you live in. Are you lovable? Or do you have to have it your way? The trees that made it through your recent storm were not the ones that were rigid. They were the ones that knew how to bend. Do you?

This is a love story, not a soapbox; I will continue.

And he found a castle, gold, and his creativity. I would like to put out to you that what he found were the basic security elements that are also the elements behind all of your fears. His castle, his space, his understanding of his personal security. In that castle you might put his view, for instance, of his own personal inhabitable space. Maybe Jack found himself up there in a larger picture. What is your view of your personal castle? Is it sturdy and strong, but you call it overweight and soft? Is it a solid build of stone, protected from the elements, or is it built quickly without a whole lot of thought, because you don’t give a whole lot of thought to what you’re doing to build up the body you have?

Also the very space itself. Let’s go, castle. Let’s go, particular sense of security and protection, which is what your personal space is about. He found a goose that laid golden eggs. [end of tape] That’s stupid money, right, gold from a goose? That’s an income tax return. Aye? If you get money from the government, gold from the goose. All right, never mind. Obviously my concept of what that was about was not the same.

And of course, very many of your issues about “am I worthy?” have to do with “is my bank account worthy?” So very often you associate who you are with what you have: Is it enough? Does it look good enough? You are judged not for what your intentions are, but for what your spending level is. And you judge whom you allow into your life by those same standards.

Fortunately for Jack, he found an unending supply of golden eggs, enough to give himself and all whom he cared for everything they could possible need. Is it clear, however, that it’s coming from a goose? Who here is familiar with a goose? Well, I’m not meaning anyone you might know, but I mean actually a goose. Tell me a major goose quality.

Noisy.

S: Yes, that’s exactly the one I was looking for. And anybody who knows geese knows that one. In fact, they’ve been considered guardians of the grain fields forever, because they’re extremely possessive, and they will let it be known quite loudly any time somebody is in their space. Jack got the gold, but he also got the goose to go along with it. That could mean a couple of things. One of them is, even though he has full access to what it is he wants, he does have to do his share of working to get it. And I’m here to tell you, that’s exactly how the Universe works with you—not that what you do is equivalent to what you get, because, more often than not, what you do is so far less than what you get—from my point of view. But Jack had to understand the process that allowed the goose to make the eggs in order to get them. That’s the work he had to do; he had to learn what made the eggs. He had to learn how to care for that goose.

What is the goose laying the golden eggs in your life? Maybe it’s the job that you work at right now; are you caring for it? Maybe that particular piece of abundance is the deep and abiding, true and wonderful, magnificent love you have in your life; are you caring for it? Cherishing that goose, and not having dreams of foie gras. Another bad joke, eh? Goose liver pate—not wanting something else.

Are you taking care of that which is giving you what you need right now? And if you don’t know what it is you need, you don’t know what your goose is. If you don’t know what you want and you don’t know what makes you happy, you cannot be cherishing that which gives those things to you. And if you’ve not yet found your goose, I recommend you start looking for the noise. I mean that. You’re drawn to the noise. Go check it out. See what it is that’s drawing you. The noise might be somebody’s behavior, or it might be a certain mode of action, but it’s that which catches your attention. Go check it out. See if it’s your goose.

And then that creativity. Jack escaped from being overwhelmed by the giant in his life with help from a friend—that’s one lesson, but not mine right now—because his creative aspect spoke to him. Have you done anything to nurture your creative self lately? What is your creative self? What are your gifts in that direction? Do you write? Do you sing? Do you dance? Do you play? Do you make jokes? Do you paint? Do you sculpt? Are you a problem solver? Are you a counselor? Are you a teacher? These are all acts of creativity, and there are so many more. And they are important in your everyday experience because they feed you. This act of creativity [indicating the flower arrangement] gave Donna something. Tell me one thing it gave her.

Satisfaction.

S: Satisfaction of what?

Of her ability.

S: Of her ability. Satisfaction of something being done. Yes. “I have done something; now it’s finished.” What else?

Joy.

S: Joy, sure. What else?

Sharing love.

S: The ability to give. The ability to appreciate and be appreciated. Do these sound like nice things to have in a life? Sure they do. And for every gift that you have—and there are more than just two or three—for every gift that you have, there are those who will appreciate it and those who can help you hone it to your potential, because that’s their gift.

“I’m not good at writing.” Well, take Joy’s writing class and get better at it.

“I don’t know how to … I can’t … I’m not good at….” And when, my darling, you’re able to stop listening to your internal voice of judgment, your creative voice of spirit might be able to be heard. And that creative voice of spirit has one purpose in your life, and that is to get you out of the cage, before—before—the giant has dinner.

You spoke of his life with the goose, the harp—the lyre, the lute, whatever it happened to be. The different stories make different instruments. It’s saying it spoke. I think it wrote a book—or carved horses for the park; something like that.

And Jack went home. And because Jack had what he needed, he no longer was afraid he would not have enough, and therefore had no need to hoard, which is your reason for doing so. You’re always afraid to let go of what you have when you’re afraid you won’t have more. As long as you believe you are in a universe in which there is not enough, you are going to be very tightly holding on, selfishly, to what you have. Unfortunately, that tight hold makes you unable to accept the bounty of more.

But he had enough, and so he went back home and shared it with all in his village. And as is so often the case, you start using the eggs and the goose lays more. The more you need, the more there is.

You know, love is an act of inclusion, not exclusion. It adds to what you are and what you have. It does not separate and take away. Jack and the Mighty, Magic Beanstalk is a story of opening a door to love by overcoming your giant using your creativity, and yet allowing you to have the abundance you want in the world you’re destined to live in.

That’s my message for February, because this is the month in which you start planning your garden, what you’re going to be growing in this year. It’s the month of the first christening. It’s the month of fertility, for the earth, for you, for your pocketbooks, for your love life. It’s the time to begin to plan what you are going to harvest.

Find your magic beans, my darlings.

Happy trails.