What *are* they, exactly? Let's face it...we all love them. The tales of power we have heard in our lives are a major factor in what finds us still on a spiritual path this late in the incarnation. We're GAY for tales of power.
Were Carlos Castaneda's "Tales Of Power" really tales of power? In my estimation, yes. Just as surely as the stories told by a shaman at two in the morning to a group of apprentices gathered around a campfire. Are the stories of the Vedas or the Gita tales of power? I think some of them are, and that they uplift tremend- ously. I think that great poetry and great literature can be tales of power. Heck, I think that broadcast television can tell tales of power. So I'm sittin' here in my beachside cafe watching the Easter parade walk by, and I'm wondering what the thing that turns an ordinary story into a tale of power IS. It's not the subject matter. The tale of power doesn't have to be set in the Sonoran desert or by the banks of the Ganges; one of my favorite tales of power from FFL was Edg's story about Joey. So what made it one? I think it's the issue of intent. The lowest form of intent when telling a story is to want to bring people down by telling it. The story is what it is, but the person's *intent* in telling it is to actively lower someone else's state of attention. These types of stories are rarely regarded by history as tales of power. :-) Another type of story that is ill-regarded by history is the story told to keep things the same. This story upholds or exalts the status quo, and the storyteller's *intent* in telling it is to keep other people's states of attention -- and their own -- safely the same. A variant of this is to tell stories that prove one "right" in an argument. A loftier (IMO) intent is to tell a story with the firm *intent* to uplift, to inspire, to help shift the listeners' attention to a higher plane. But I would suggest that there might be two levels of this last category as well. The first level of tales that uplift is tales told with the intention to uplift, *but with an agenda*." The stories are told to reinforce dogma, or to "prove" the truth of a particular saying or teaching. Such stories can either uplift the listeners or bring them down, because the listeners can perceive the *intent* behind them. So IMO they're "hit or miss" in terms of being real tales of power. But there is another level of tales that uplift. That's when the shaman or storyteller knows a cool story, one that captures the magic of a particularly shiny moment. The moment could be from the storyteller's own life or it could be from someone else's life; doesn't matter. What matters in my opinion is the storyteller's decision to leave agenda back in the hacienda, and bring to the storytelling around the fire only the "Now" of the story itself. If the original moment had power, then a good retelling of that moment of power will reveal it and make it acces- sible to the listeners. They can *feel* the power of the original moment themselves. They can slip into the states of attention of the characters in the story. They are *there* in that shiny moment; they're not listening to someone just talk about it. Call me an elitist, but I tend to prefer the latter type of tales that uplift over the type of tales that uplift that have a strong "moral" or "lesson" or "symbolism" in them. IMO if the storyteller has to work that hard to "add meaning" to the shiny moment he or she is talking about, then maybe the power wasn't in the moment in the first place. Or maybe the storyteller who feels that he or she has to "enhance" the moment missed the power of the original moment, and the Now in it. Dunno. I just prefer the tales of power that have no "moral" to the story, no "lesson" in them, no "preachy" vibe in the telling of them. Just the facts man. The ones that best allow a listener to *participate* in the shiny moments being talked about or written about.
