Episode 35: A Secret Visit to the Council of Kindness

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast.

Join host Allie Wagner as she takes you on a tour of a special wing of the Carousel of Happiness. A secret spot very few people know about. One that is so close to the carousel, yet so far away. A place tucked away from the din of the ordinary world, an oasis insulated from responsibility. A solitary space where nothing is required, nothing is expected, and nothing needs to be done. Where you’re never missing out, you’re never too late, and you’re never left out. We'll tell you about a place that is similar to the carousel, but still. Silent. Without the bells and the whistles, the squeals and the laughter. A place that is ready for you. Ready to embrace you, to hold you, to support you. Just as you are. Right here. Right now.

Welcome to the Council of Kindness.

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

Check out the carousel on the CBS national news! https://www.cbsnews.com/news/carousel-daydream-helped-marine-get-through-vietnam-war-he-then-made-that-carousel-a-reality/

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If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as ou...

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

On last week’s episode, we talked about divination tools and how they can help us access our intuition. I told you a story about how George Harrison used a Chinese divination text called the I Ching to write one of the Beatles’ most iconic songs, and we did a carousel-inspired intuitive reading together. In it, we learned how to use the wisdom of the koala, the fox, and the Japanese gong, and apply it to an issue that matters most to us in our own lives.

On today’s episode, I’m going to take you on a tour of a special wing of the Carousel of Happiness. A secret spot very few people know about. One that is so close to the carousel, yet so far away. A place tucked away from the din of the ordinary world, protected from the hum and the heave and the churn and the burn. An oasis insulated from responsibility, one that refuses obligation and resists expectation. A solitary space free of dings and pings and beeps and whines. Where nothing is required, nothing is expected, and nothing needs to be done. Where you’re never missing out, you’re never too late, and you’re never left out. I’ll tell you about a place that is similar to the carousel, but still. Silent. Without the bells and the whistles, the squeals and the laughter. It’s a place that is ready for you. Ready to embrace you, to hold you, to support you. Just as you are. Right here. Right now.

Curious?

Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

If you enter the carousel at night, just as the sun sinks below the Continental Divide. When the lights are dim and the room is quiet. You can hear your own footsteps. You can hear the bottoms of your shoes as they pad softly across the concrete floor. 

You feel the earth beneath your feet. Deep underneath the floor you can feel, you can sense, the entire earth holding you up. You take a few steps forward and notice what it feels like to feel that constant support beneath your feet. To feel the constant sensation of being held, buttressed, and supported by the solid foundation of the earth.

As you enter the carousel house, you open the metal gate. It squeaks and groans just a little as you open it just wide enough to step through. You shut the gate behind you with a click. With a metal ding that ensures that no one will disturb you right now. The front door is locked, the metal gate secure, and the room is entirely quiet. You are alone.

You step onto the carousel platform and it wobbles just a little beneath you. You grab on to a metal pole for support and look directly into the eyes of the gorilla. She invites you to sit down, and usually you do, but tonight you have other plans.

She understands. She smiles at you as you move into the center of the carousel. Where the operators stand while the carousel is in motion. The eye in the storm of laughter and joy and squeals and shouts. The place of calm, of stillness, tucked inside the whirl and the whiz and whee and whoa.

In the center of the circle, close to the massive motor, is a large crystal. Lit from below, it is glowing. The light feels warm and shines on your face. Below the large crystal you notice several smaller crystals sprinkled lovingly at its feet.

You lift a rough purple crystal and notice a circular blue button underneath. It is solid under your fingertips as you press it down. The earth under your feet starts to wobble slightly. You hear a loud groan. You grab onto one of the wood supports as the earth begins to split beneath your feet, revealing a secret stone staircase inching into the inky below. 

You look around you and over your shoulder. You are still alone. Everything is stil quiet. Now is the time to go. Now. The world will wait.

You take hold of the wooden railing and take a step down. The wood grain is bumpy yet smooth under your fingertips. The steps are solid and made of stone. 

You take one step, sinking deeper into the darkness. Another step still, going further within. One step after another step, you’re moving down, down, down. Beneath the carousel floor, beneath the ordinary world, beneath your obligations and your expectations. Beneath who they think you are and who you think you have to be.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs your eyes adjust to the dark. You squint and notice the room is entirely empty except for several strange shapes, some lumpy, some bumpy, all sitting around, quietly, in a circle. 

You reach for a light switch and flip it on. Dim, yet warm light surrounds the space. You notice now that the strange shapes are animals. All with a seat around a circular bench. There’s a lounging wolf and a snuggly giraffe; a squatty rhinoceros and a floppy bear; a curious donkey and what appears to be a wise dolphin. 

And flying above the circle below are one hundred little songbirds, resting on a circular steel tube, gossiping and chirping in small clumps and groups. Except for two birds, who are enjoying a soft spot on the back of the rhinoceros below.

The door to the staircase closes behind you and you notice a sign. It reads, “Council of Kindness.” Beneath it is a poem from Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

So may Gods, so many creeds,

So many paths that wind and wind

While the art of being kind

Is all the sad world needs.

You smile and continue reading. There’s a message from the dolphin below. It reads

Here you are.

We welcome your visit.

We have been waiting for you.

Please, sit down, and give yourself a break.

We hope you find comfort with your presence here.

Let the birds above send your thoughts and prayers away.

We call ourselves the Council of Kindness.

Here, you are one of us.

Come back often.

You notice the animals are all looking at you, inviting you to come sit. On the soft benches in between them. You notice there isn’t room for many people, but there is room for one you.

You walk into the center of the circle and immediately sit down next to the rhinoceros without understanding why. There’s something about her strength, her power, that appeals to you. Her hulking mass is temporarily at rest, seated softly on the bench next to you, instead of plowing through the savannah somewhere. 

You recognize her to be tough, but gentle. Just like you, she’s got a tender heart tucked inside an armored exterior. You brush your fingers along her side and notice that while she’s dark in color, she’s lightly speckled with paint. Just a little bit of color for this special kind of rhino. 

You notice the two birds perched on her back don’t seem to bother her, you sense they have an understanding. They don’t ask of her more than she’s willing to give, and, in return, she gives of herself, happily.

You look her in the eyes, to get a sense of who she really is, and you notice one of her eyes is cloudy. She is, indeed, a different kind of rhino. Just like you, she has a vulnerability that sometimes clouds her vision, but, just like you, she is perfect just the way she is.

Thank you for the reminder, you say to Ms. Rhino. Thank you for reminding me of the tenderness that lies within me. Thank you for reminding me that my vulnerability isn’t something to hide, but something to proudly accept and to honor. Thank you, Ms. Rhino, for reminding me that I am perfect just as I am. Right here, right now.

On the other side of Ms. Rhino flops a big black bear, sitting tall with legs spread wide and a goofy grin. Mr. Bear has one of those sweet faces you desperately want to pinch and squeeze. But you don’t because that’s rude and also because you find it typically best practice not to go around pinching bears.

Much like Ms. Rhino, Mr. Bear’s size sometimes means people make judgments about him before they get to know him. While he is large, he is also extremely kind. His sweet face is open, and he does not judge. He doesn’t judge you or me, or him or them. Because he knows every single being on earth is doing the absolute best they can with what they have right now and that is A-OK with Mr. Bear.

Mr. Bear knows there are no right answers. He knows there is no one-size-fits all. He knows you must turn inward to seek your own wisdom, and when you do, you can take it to the bank, 100% of the time. Mr. Bear encourages you to find your own inner voice, your own counselor, through what he calls human hibernation – also known as mediation, as introspection, and as dreams. In these quiet spaces, says Mr. Bear, you will find your perfect advice, your perfect next step, and your perfect answer.

Thank you Mr. Bear, you say. Thank you for your openness, your compassion, and your grace. Thank you for seeing me, just as I am. A work in progress, an evolving being, an ever-changing work of art. Thank you for understanding the complexity within me and accepting my unusual choices, even if they might not make sense to those around me. Thank you for reminding me I always have access to the innate wisdom that lies just beneath my surface.

You move a little in your seat to readjust your position. You take a big breath and you exhale. It feels good to be surrounded by these animals, to be surrounded by these friends. Nobody wants or needs or demands anything from you here. Your new friends only ask that you be here. Just be. Just here.

You rest your head on the side of the giraffe without thinking. Excuse me, you say to her before you notice she doesn’t seem to be too concerned. Her neck stretches high above you, and her face is intently focused on the songbirds above.

Lady Giraffe’s neck stretches long like a bridge. Like a bridge between this world and “somewhere else,” between her friends seated below and the birds perched in the heavens above. Her long neck allows her to straddle both worlds, to be both here and there. Lady Giraffe encourages you to bridge divides and mend fences in your life by leading with your unique gifts and your tender heart.

Lady Giraffe’s long neck also allows her to take the long view. To zoom way, way out and see the past and present and combine them into a vision of the future. Lady Giraffe encourages you to see situations from all sides, from all angles. She urges you to witness the world from all angles, and reminds you there’s always a way to get where you’re going from exactly where you’ve been. 

Thank you, you say to Lady Giraffe. Thank you for reminding me that I, too, can serve as a bridge in my life. A bridge between different groups, different communities, different languages, and different viewpoints. Thank you for reminding me that I am capable, with my unique gifts, of being a unifier in this world. Thank you for reminding me there are solutions everywhere if I’m only willing to take another look.

The donkey sitting across the circle agrees with you, but they don’t feel the need to say much about it. While it is true donkeys have a reputation for stubbornness, this donkey doesn’t feel the need to dig their heels in. Not about this. Because this donkey picks their battles wisely and always with the heart. 

This donkey calls on you to soften your edges. It asks you to notice when you are being stubborn out of habit instead of out of principle. This donkey encourages you to insist upon the boundaries that serve you and ditch the stubbornness that can so often get in the way of love. 

Thank you donkey, you say. Thank you for reminding me there is a time and a place to draw the line. And that that line should never, never ever, be an excuse to deny love to myself or to others.

You take a deep breath in and exhale out. Your time with the Council of Kindness is coming to a close. As you cross the circle to make your way to the door, you rest, momentarily in the spot between the wolf and the dolphin. You listen to the water in the dolphin’s tank gurgle and bubble. You rest your hand on the wolf’s back. You close your eyes and take three big breaths. In. And out. In. Out. In and out. 

While you must move on, you know the wolf, dolphin, and all your new friends will be waiting for you on your next visit. Waiting to welcome you, just as you are, for just as long as you are able to stay.

You nod your head in thanks. You thank your new friends for the moment of stillness, the moment of silence. You thank them for the opportunity to be seen and heard just as you are without duty or obligation, expectation or demand.  

Thank you, Council of Kindness. For the reminder that everything is perfect, including me. That everything is exactly as it should be, and if it isn’t perfect right now, it can be. Soon. As long as I take each step, one breath at a time.  

You walk toward the door and look over your shoulder. Your friends remain. Calm and steady, ready for their next visitor.

You switch off the light and the room goes dark. You open the door and step into the light. Step after step, you climb. Ready for the world to open up in front of you, ready for what’s next.

You move about your day feeling different, feeling changed. It’s part of what happens when you pay a visit to the Council of Kindness.

We’ll talk more next week about exactly what the council is and its relationship to the carousel.

But in the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.