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The Lesson of the Ugly Duckling

2/17/2016

6 Comments

 
by Deborah Globus
The lesson of the ugly duckling is that he is both the pain of his current reality and the promise of his desired outcome.
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I can see myself, sitting and crying on the beach.  I am 24 years old, unemployed, married, and flailing in life.  I am lost.
 

Thanks to my husband we have disposable income, though, and I have realized the joys of combing the self-help shelves and coming away with a stack of books.
 
I have discovered SARK who gives me permission to nap.
 
I have discovered Sarah Ban Breathnacht who feeds my desire to live a life of my own choosing. 
 

I have discovered Jennifer Louden who has taught me the practice of retreat.
That day on the beach was my first retreat.  I can’t remember the question I chose to guide me and keep me on track, but I know why I sat on the beach on that cold February day, crying.  In that moment I admitted that I hated being a woman, and the admission  devastated me.
 
I had always been more comfortable hanging out with guys. I had trouble with female friendships.  They didn’t seem to stick, always breaking my heart.  Even my beloved sister left the family, causing me to doubt my worth for years.
 
And I was lonely. My husband worked long, compulsive hours at work.  I who had never spent a night alone until I was 21 years old, suddenly had hours and hours of solitude.
 
I longed for companionship.  I longed for intimate, abiding relationships – ones that wouldn’t threaten my marriage, like the friendships with men did.
 
And so I cried.  I sobbed on that beach, acknowledging this self-loathing and this chasm of longing inside of me – neither of which I knew how to address.

At that moment a swan appeared.
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I had never seen swans in the wild before.  Maybe it was the DDT of the 80s and their comeback.  Maybe I just wasn’t very observant.  But in all my visits to Caumsett State Park I had never seen swans.
 
Unfamiliar as I was, I thought it was magic that a swan should be there, late winter, calming gliding across the water.

I wracked my brain for anything I knew about Swan’s animal wisdom.  All I found was an old Hans Christian Anderson story called “The Ugly Duckling.”

Swan footprints in the snow
Photo by Jennifer Raven Cookson
A swan egg misplaced in a duck’s nest, hatches.  He’s different from the others, scorned.  He’s envious of the swans he sees, yearning for their grace and beauty.
 
Little does he know that he is a swan.
 
He emerges from a long winter of isolation and is recognized by his kindred spirits, the beautiful swans, who take him as their own. 
 
It was the perfect analogy of my own life, and it was there on the water floating by as if by magic and seemingly contrary to Nature, right there in front of me.
 
I was an ugly duckling, and it was awful.  All the years of being bullied in HS, the years of depression, the years of feeling like an oddball because I collected crystals and adored dragons.  It was absolutely awful.
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​
But the gift of that story was the hope it offered.

 
 That ugly duckling grew into himself, and therefore I could grow into myself.

That ugly duckling found a place of belonging, and therefore I could find a place of belonging.  I could somehow find my tribe.
 
And it didn’t matter that I didn’t know how to make that happen.  I didn’t know how a swan could show up on a beach on the North Shore of Long Island and yet, there it was.
 
I was - and still am - firmly convinced that the Universe set it there for me to receive that gift of hope.  I had hope that in the same Providential way I was shown the swan, I would also be shown how to get from the place I was to the life I so desperately longed to live.
 
​

That’s the beach I’ll be going back to on Leap Day when I do my Wishes on the Water Ritual. That’s the beach where I’ll be setting my little origami boat on the waves, my dream written lovingly inside.  That’s where I hope your big dream will be, too.
 
 And I have no doubt that there will be swans.
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The story of hope that I was given still applies.  What is important to note is that the ugly little duckling was simultaneously the ugly duckling…and the swan.
                                  
He was both the pain of his current reality…and the promise of his desired future.
 
Just as I was, that day 20 years ago on the beach.
 
Just as your dream is.
 

And just as I discovered on that day on the beach 20 years ago, you do not have to know how to get from your current reality to your desired outcome. 

All you need is a show of faith.
 
Commit to it, and the Universe will take care of showing you the way.
 
And that’s what my ritual is all about – I’m stating my commitment to my dream, my precious wish of being published.
 
It’s me saying “I don’t know how to get there, but I’m willing to be shown.  Because, I really, really want this.  I’ve despaired of ever having it but I’ve got faith that somehow, some way, this can be a reality.”
 
I know you’ve got a dream like that, too. 

Something precious to you, something you long for so deeply it brings you to tears.  Something that maybe you’ve despaired of ever making a reality.  Something that you don’t have any idea of how to make it happen.

 
This is your chance for a show of faith. 

Pay from the heart, tell me your wish, and I’ll set it free on the gently lapping shore of that magical beach.  Hopefully with the blessing of swans.
​
6 Comments
Caroline
2/18/2016 09:46:57 am

Oh, my...you put tears in my eyes!! How could you have ever felt that way!!. I wish I knew you 20 years ago to fight off the bullies I so despise! I would have thrown imaginary arrows and fireballs at them! In reality I would had kicked their butts.
I'm glad you have continued your faith for it has helped ME..through so much emotional spins. I'm grateful to your guidance and friendship. .though I'm older than you..*(.hee hee ).you are ever so wise and gentle in the ways you've helped be a better person and giving me hope that...yes one day I'll get my story on paper as well..first I must pull it out of my heart where I've buried it for the fear of all pain resonating again.But..I will..
Thank you♤

Reply
Deb
2/18/2016 10:58:21 am

When we first met and I held on for dear life? You were the first spark of hope in Queens and at PS 173 that I might have found a kindred spirit. You were one of the first of the parents that got me - and not who I pretended to be as PTA president but ME. That's why we clicked. That's why you've always been so important in my life. Love you.

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Heather Dakota link
2/18/2016 10:04:02 am

Oh my YES!!! This is so, so beautiful. It has definitely been a tender time for me as well. The collective unconscious must be going through a release and renewal. Sending you big hugs and Swan blessings.

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Deb
2/18/2016 10:59:44 am

Thanks, Heather. It's been a rocky ride these 20 years but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And I'm glad that our paths have crossed and we're walking this time together.

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Christine link
2/18/2016 11:49:22 am

What a kick-ass, powerful article! Thank you, my author friend! And yes, with complete faith of your book being published. You're an awesome writer who tells the "real" so beautifully, powerfully, and personally.

Reply
Jill
2/18/2016 12:34:23 pm

Oh so yes. I have often thought of this story in relation to my own path. Your story touched me deeply, and I'm grateful to you for sharing your vulnerability for us to relate to. It's a powerful example of faith and trust and the willingness to step out into something new... the unfolding of the swan. Thank you.

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    Author

    My name is Deborah Globus and I am La Padre.  With me you'll find the support you need to uncover practical, do-able spiritual practices that work for you.  I offer new perspectives on old practices like journaling and ritual, with a side of compassion and a healthy dose of humor, just to keep it down-to-earth and real!

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