Metaphors about me
The homework this week was the following. It touched my heart and I thought I would share with others.
Determine what examples of metaphor best fit your current situation and your desired outcome?
Identify what metaphors truly describe you.
Explain what challenges have you metaphorically overcome.
Describe what images you connect with that represent your story.
Completed story should be 500-1000 words.
There he stood, the blacksmith at his forge. All of his tools and materials were gathered around him. Each morning he would go to a special corner in this room and light a candle and then burn some incense, dropping to his knees as he said soft words to something I could not see, but I always felt. When he was finished, with what I learned later, to be praying he would start my journey.
He picked me up and would stick me in the fire to heat me up, I would be glowing red hot when he pulled me out of the fire and then he would began to hammer me into a shape. Satisfied, he put me back in to the forge and began the heating process again. Removing me from the heat he began hammering at me again. Giving me shape and definition. What shape? It felt like I was becoming a dagger. He used those words of prayer when he worked. They gave me comfort and I felt the strength of his words becoming inlaid in the layers of the folds of metal that made me what I was to become. He folded me 200 times, over and over, for several weeks.
Each day, he prayed in his corner, each day he talked to me, asking me to bend, asking me go into the shape that he was trying for, praising me when I managed to do what he asked and then I must have done what he wanted as he said in a big releasing sigh, "Finally". He heated me up once more, and spent the entire day writing words on my blade. Then the next day he spent sharpening me. This was a special day for the blacksmith, he would work on my edge and then he would test my blade by throwing up a piece of silk and when it finally landed on my blade he was waiting until the silk slid off cut in two with nothing more than air for force. Knowing that the blade was extra sharp he was extremely pleased. The third day, he spent polishing me and putting some kind of cloth on my handle. On each of these days, he whispered words of prayer, words of love, words of praise and words of warning.
Proudly he place the shiny blade into a leather sheath. He took me to a member of the highest of high and presented me to him. The emperor pulled me out of the sheath, reading the words on my blade, he nodded and put me back.
I had no idea at that time what I would go through but I do know this, I did it with honor, I did not miss the target ever, I was true every time my master used me and victory was always ours. I was true to him always and together we could not be separated. Most of the time I rode at his waist on his belt, sometimes I was hidden in his boot or in the back of his pants. Then each night my master would wipe me down and polish me. I did all sorts of things for him, sometimes I cut rope, cloth, and sometimes food. Other times, I protected my master and upheld his words, even when his sword was exhausted, I was always there and he used me. Sometimes, I helped him with medical procedures and on nights when the wind blew cold, he would use me on a piece of wood, whittling it into beautiful pieces of art and musical instruments.
He became my friend, as he talked to me often, he prayed with me every day and together we were what he called honorable and victorious. Together we were stronger than when we were apart. Forged from the loving words of a blacksmith I became a tool that was used for the best possible good.
Written in my blade was this prayer:
May the welder of this blade be an instrument of God. May they always show peace, compassion and mercy. May they always shine their light into the darkness. May they always be honorable, just and true. And when they look to this blade may they be humbled by the Love of God.
A blade is a tricky thing, for it can be used for good things like cutting up food, cutting ropes or cloth, they can be used to whittle the most beautiful pieces of wood. Some cuts can heal infectious wounds; other cuts can remove splinters/arrows/and other foreign objects. But blades can also be used for destruction or harm. As a practitioner we hold a client in our hands and with our words and we weld such power of good or bad. We must know when to 'cut out' the bad things so there can be true healing and we have to know when to keep that blade sheathed.
I am trying desperately to overcome a sharp tongue. To be easy with people when I want to cut out the bad parts and know that they could be healed without those infectious wounds they carry around. I want to be shaped by the Source and that requires me to surrender much like the forging process.
So, I am the blade. Forged over and over again to become the instrument of peace, mercy and compassion. I want to be honorable, just and true in all things. And when in doubt be able to look in the mirror and be humbled by the love of God.