Elements of this story were used as a metaphor on my recent course and I have to say the impact was enormous. The magic of using metaphors therapeutically, is that we are all able to internally examine and deconstruct the messages, to fit our own unique life experiences. The individual translations then enable us to access hidden resources, that we can retrieve and bring back to the present with us.
I really align to the idea that we all have the knowledge and knowhow within us, to transform ourselves. However, all too often we seem to have trouble believing this fact. We spend endless amounts of time and energy searching and hoping to find the courage that the Lion seemingly lacked, or the heart that the Tin Man so desperately desired and of course the elusive brain, that was supposedly missing from the Scarecrow.
How often have you ignored those messages from inside you…..I’m not talking about the clanging noisy critical voices that habitually clutter our internal space, I mean those quiet engaging whispers that speak directly to our hearts. They immediately resonate with us and we feel a deep connection because this is our truth and our passion. It’s not headline news, but something we carry in our very being and intuitively know about ourselves.
For me it’s writing…actually it always has been. Consciously it seems like this is a relatively recent creative outlet, it’s only when I challenge that reality, do I find that writing has been woven into the fabric of my life but in different guises…. playing with limericks as a child, poetry and song lyrics growing up, love letters to my husband, epic outpourings of adoration to my children on every birthday card, countless private musings on every subject imaginable, written affirmations, creative mind maps, newsletters galore and presently my blog.
Obviously due to technology the blog currently is all that remains intact as most of my expressions inextricably end up languishing at the bottom of the waste paper basket. Even my very intermittent submissions online are a testament of my literary history. I hear the whisper and answer the call by tuning into my heart and write.
All is as it should be……
However, before long, I’m off dodging tournedos, tripping down that well trodden yellow brick road with Toto, munchkins, witches from the North and West, ducking to avoid the winged monkeys whilst singing “Somewhere over the rainbow”….. yes the whole kit and caboodle…believing that I need to journey to a far away place to find what I’m lacking.
Questioning whether I am bright enough to write out loud, am brave enough to share my thoughts and emotionally strong enough to bear the heartache of some assumed failure, linked to my lack of writing talent.
No wonder the Wizard of Oz metaphor had such an impact. Did the Tin Man really need a ticking watch, to represent a heart, proving he could love? Did the Lion’s medal give him courage? And did the honorary degree in Thinkology, make the Scarecrow wiser?
How strange, that we look for external permission, certification or approval to validate our gifts, instead of simply following our inner knowing, because this is where we will find happiness.
Dorothy finally realised that she didn’t need a wondrous wizard to help her find her way home at all, she had the ability the whole time, just as we all do. Our home is our spirit, our soul and our heart, which guides us. Not to some sparkling imagined magical emerald city at the end of an ever winding road, but to our back yard where we make our dreams come true, because we have always had the power within us.
Dust down your ruby slippers, are you ready?
Yes, I’m ready now.
Then close your eyes, and tap your heels
together three times.
And think to yourself — “There’s no place
like home; there’s no place like home;
there’s no place like home.”
There’s no place like home. There’s no
place like home. There’s no place like
home. There’s no place like home.