The Source

Two stories— somewhat related.

One: Nothing like returning to the teat for a bit of nourishing milk…..at any time?

Years ago, while living on Cheju Island in Korea (1969, 1970), I was told the folk tale about the father who went up to his son’s wife, pulled down the top of her dress and began sucking on her breasts. When the son angrily confronted his father, the father said: “Years ago you sucked on my wife’s breasts; I’m just calling in the debt”.

The story was a Korean morality tale about filial responsibility.

For how many thousands of years has Mother Earth looked after us adolescent humans? For sure, we owe a hugh debt to her. Is Climate Change a signal for pay back time?

Two: Nothing like returning to the womb….. at any time?

This week, in preparation for my trip to China, I have been reading an autobiography by Kong Demao, a 77th generation direct descendant of Kong Fuzi (or, as we know him, Confucius). She relates this story:

In the tall grass to the south-west of Confucius’ tomb, there was a slanting cave which was narrow at the mouth but which broadened inside.  The servants and old nurses, who wouldn’t allow us to go near it for fear of us falling in, told us the story behind it. The cave was called the Oil Basket Tomb or Cattle Pen Grave and was a relic of the Qin dynasty (221-206 BC). At the time, old people who lived past the age of sixty were buried alive. Filial sons were naturally loath to treat their parents in this way, so they dug “oil basket tombs” for the old people to live in. Each night they would lower food and drink to them in bamboo baskets. Many such tombs were used by the Kong clan at the time.

In the end, Mother Earth receives us, yet again, back into her womb. From dust to dust, as they say. From earth, back into earth.