…..Mary Poppins says that until your baby curls are cut, babies can understand the languages of nature–birds and bees and breezes and other babies all sing together to tell the story of creation.
When I was little I listened hard to the story, attending to the spirits alit on the wind, looking for the chatter that filled up the clouds, attending to the adults as they told more and more stories of how the world worked.
You know how every single relationship is a story in action? How every time you relate to someone in your life sister, love, fairy godmother, you are storytelling. I want to know the big story, I want to participate in writing the world, co-creating reality, understanding the endings. I want to know who plotted this world, and how, and where all the people fitted together in the cloth of time.
You know why names are magical? Because they are first gift we are given, because to name something is to claim it through perception. Stories grow with us, they change as we change. The more complex we are, the more complex the story becomes. To name something is to grow it into creation. Which is why we are able to become old enough to read Fairy Tales again (as C. S. Lewis says). I’m working on being mature enough to hear the bird, breeze, bee, and baby breathe their true names into my ear once again.