A Modern Moral Fairy Tale

Deena Larsen and MaJe Larsen

This mayor may notbe a cautionary tale for the Modern Age. For the Information Age. It might be a commentary on the way we handle confidential information. Or many- to-many communication structures for society. Or information verification. But it probably isn't, really.

It mayor may notcontain an obvious moral. It may—or may not—have happened in this order. Or in any other particular order. You might want to believe what each page says about itself. Or you might not.

A salmonic commentary to the human story. Where is Truth? What is Truth? Consider the Shekinah, the Divine Indwelling of G-D.  Is she gazing out over the edge of the Ravine? Is she the ponded river? The names of the What Is are a trap, clouding What Is. The curious old woman responds to each moment as It Is. The story stops when we refuse to continue gazing out over the edges. One sees What Is when one learns to see not with one's eyes. Is it painful for the curious old woman to allow the boy to figure it out for himself? Learn to see. Learn to speak. Beware the guru. Explore the nature of desire. The boy mistakes the clarity of the water for the clarity of  his heart. The boy mistakes the clarity of the water for the clarity of  his heart. As the boy's heart becomes clouded, so do his eyes.   The boy refuses to explore perspectives outside himself. Consider your own ability and willlingness to exploit. What darkness in the boy made him susceptible? What was once simple, clean, and obvious becomes muddy and murky and obscured. The boys failure positions him to learn to see.
Enter on land: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18

Or enter through water: The answer itself flows simply.
You choose what to feel against your skin.
To die, to live, to share, is all you need. The richness lies in this:
Release all fears. Love all around and return to our beginnings.

Just remember that alternative and meta texts might provide different readings. You could also attempt to read this in the excel version or pdf, but only if you like your words to cross themselves.

I dedicate our first—and only—work together to the memory of MaJe Larsen, 12/18/1958 - 10/18/2010. Her love and her soul will remain with me always. Deena Larsen