Mythical Critters – the Dryad

We have all heard of pieces parts of olde wisdom based on irrational systems of divination.  Examples include astrology, runes, tarot, the elements, fortune cookies, etc.  All of these, and many other systems, were attempts to explain complicated things, with a simple set of rules.  Though modern science mostly dismisses them as tom-foolery (poor tom always gets the short end of the stick), many of us have felt in their prophetic words, little bits of truth from time to time that seem more than just a statistical game.

Astrology is a great example – though science can easily prove that the doctor delivering the baby exerted a larger gravity or other effect than the other planets did, there are pieces to astrology that sometimes provide a template of understanding. Consider for a moment the origins of astrology though – that it was passed down from tribal elder to tribal elder for hundreds of generations – that during that time, these same elders knew when a child was born, observed them over the years, and perhaps from this data, they were able to come up with some generalizations that they passed down as well.  Over thousands of years, and tens of thousands of children, a statistical database unfolds, which though perhaps the “true” source of the differences is hidden still, there is some interesting generalization which we can at least look at with a cautious eye about the “Leo’s” and “Taurus’s” of this world

So, continuing with the theme of mythical archetypes, is the lovely Dryad.  I know a few folks that looking into them, the Dryad vision “sprouts” up – treelike, with deep roots, supportive and loving, with a curious mix of social in small groups, and a desire for time almost alone.  They typically don’t like large groups. 

With Dryads, the “elemental forms” are important.  They need water, and the flow that provides, but not too much or they wash away or rot.  They are rooted in earth – stability, grounded, solid. If the ground is too hard – as with the seed tossed in the crack of a rock, over the years, they can crack even a giant bolder under the pressure of their roots and the environment.  They are wood of nature, dynamic, creative, deeply living and feeling.  They can be a bit ponderous and set, but are able to bend without breaking, within limits.  They often have a tenuous relationship with metal and fire – both respecting and working with it, but also being leery of it, recognizing both the importance of having a place to grow, and respecting the danger that these elements (and technology in general) represent in terms of loss of social connection, personal value, and stability. They often have some scars from metal or fire.  Their relationship with air is also complicated – they love the thunder, even though it is dangerous (fire), they love the power behind the wind, but don’t like to always feel it. 

The Mythical Critters of everyday life

Over the last couple of years, I've come up with the theory that many of the historically common archetypes of mythical creatures, are based on personalities, and constitutions of people that we find around us in our lives here.  We talk about someone being “elf like”, or “dwarf” or “fairy”, but upon closer examination, these labels can really go so deeply into the parallels that we draw between daily life and the mythical world in the background, that we can gain some insight from them.

Barbara and I have done so much contemplation on this, that we wonder if there might not be a therapeutic model in correlating ones-self with a mythical archetype, just as there are so many other archetypes which can help people to understand or justify at least some portion of their nature.

On contemplation, we realize that the basic archetype can be limiting though.  Take for example the “fairy” – a tiny winged creature with magical powers.  First off, if we look “within” to try to intuit truth to a thing that we can’t really “know”, asking the question “is that all that a fairy is”, at least for me, results in a resounding “NO!”.  It appears, for instance, that fairies are often creatures that desire community, but for whatever reason often live a more singular life.  They often have little sense of time, or at least, little appreciation for its linearity. They often have a quality which may appear to be “entitled” – as if they deserve a comfy existence, just from their being. Also, often, they feel like they should be able to make things happen here more easily – that they shouldn’t have to “push” or “try” as hard as they do to affect a positive outcome.  This leads to a categorization as being a “dreamer” – but what if their nature is simply different… What if they are from a space where , in fact, life was “easier” – that manifestation was how things worked, you got stuff done by wishing for it to be done.  Imagine a world with relatively few beings, homogeneous in nature, no perdition, little competition for resource. It is a world of collective cooperation and planning – where every birth, every major decision is planned by the collective group, for the benefit of the all.  Food falls as dew drops – like manna from heaven.  Seasons are light, so the passing of time is marked more as a story, reenacted over the millennia, than as a warning for “cold times ahead”.

Thinking more about the fairies, it seems like there are different folks, different “clans” of the fairy folks. The air fairies, of above, are the most common example. But, perhaps mermaids are just “water fairies” – similar in so many other ways.  It turns out that there are not only salt water mermaids of the open seas, but also fresh water mermaids – bound to interface between the sea and the land.  I’ve come to realize that for whatever reason, I attract and love fairies – even though I’m not one myself.