The Parable Of The Back Yard
The first of the year channellings are always special, and this one became a very notable parable. Wo lived in a home with a back yard, which he had used since his father had built a tree-house for him when he was a child. In Kryon's parables, everything means something else, and Wo's precious back yard was about to change.
Greetings, dear ones, I am Kryon of Magnetic Service.
I promised a parable earlier today and so again my parable will feature the character named Wo. If you've not heard of this before, Wo represents every Human. Wo is not a single gender, but rather Wo is Wo-man. Wo is both genders. However, in this case, we will call him a “he” because it makes sense in your language to do so.
In some ways, this is a story that some of you will recognize, yet in some ways it's also fully metaphoric. Now, dear ones, parables always have a message. Parables will always be metaphors designed to represent other things. Sometimes we'll explain what these metaphors mean and sometimes we won't. However, as we go on this specific journey, we wish to explain a few meanings as we proceed.
I'm going to give this parable a name: Wo and His Backyard.
Right away you might feel that this “backyard” isn't really a physical backyard and you'd be partially correct. In a moment, we'll tell you more about the meanings. However, in my partner's culture a physical backyard is the space behind a typical U.S. home and many listening to this message have one. Some still have the ones they grew up with.
Let the story begin: Wo had a backyard and all through his life it was really important to him. Like so many of you who also had a backyard, you might remember it clearly from your childhood if you lived in one place long enough. Many of the things that took place in that yard are very important within the memory of your youth.
Perhaps you may remember your own backyard because when you were small, it was where you played. You may remember the things that were added to it through the years and the things that stayed the same. Some of those things were your stability and perhaps you counted on them to stay the same. The backyard in this particular parable represents Wo's reality. For you, this backyard also represents your reality, how you think, and how you handle things in your life.
Of course, your reality is shaped early on when you're very young, and in Wo's case he remembers it very clearly. He remembers the day his father brought the tree. The tree was already big to Wo, and dad brought a piece of equipment that now Wo knows was a backhoe. His father dug a hole with this machine and put in the tree. Wo remembers that the whole reason for the tree was for Wo! He loved that! When Wo was almost five, he remembers his dad saying, “Wo, this is going to be your personal treehouse and when you're a little older, we'll build that house together.” Indeed, that is what happened.
A number of years passed, and Wo watched that tree grow. The branches became larger and they could eventually support being climbed, so in time his father and Wo began slowly building the treehouse. When finished, it was a strong and splendid one!
The treehouse, dear ones, represents childhood in this parable. In Wo's case, it was a good childhood filled with good memories and he remembered it very, very vividly. He remembered details as many of you also do. He remembered something that he laughs about even to this day - when his father built the treehouse, very slowly and ceremoniously, he found two oil barrels (more like trash cans actually) that were open at the top. His father then turned them upside down with the open end in the dirt and put them by the tree in order to support a part of the treehouse - the entrance.
Now what's significant in this is that through the years that followed, the barrels stayed. They were convenient and stayed put even after the treehouse was gone. Even into Wo's adulthood, the barrels stayed in the same place. This was because they were ultimately functional. They became a picnic table, an occasional table, and with a plank of wood on them, they held the food for his parties next to the tree where people wanted to sit for the shade. If Wo had a big project in the backyard or he wanted to build anything, the barrels supported the entire project. The barrels never moved.
Interestingly, some of the neighbors noticed this and joked, “Is Wo ever going to move those barrels?” Wo would tell them, “No, I don't think so. They are permanent.” Eventually, the neighborhood joke became this: “In the future, one of two things will happen: Either the rapture will come or Wo will move the barrels.” The barrels didn't move.
Dear ones, in your backyard, in this parable, you've got barrels, too. You never move them. You can't easily move them and you never really even think of moving them, because they represent the core truths of your reality. Question: In this story, did Wo put the barrels there or did his dad? That is a metaphor for Wo. His father represents some meaningful, important person in his life. You have the same in your life. There was someone who taught you things that ultimately became your truth, your stationary reality, and a belief that you never move from. The reason? You use these stationary, unmoving barrels, this truth, all the time because it works for you and always has. The tree, of course, is your constant stability and the barrels (truths) are never far from it. It will stay the same all your life and is your core security.
Now, let me alter the story a bit and tell you about the playhouse. Here is where we get a bit gender specific and more realistic for the women hearing the story. Wo got a treehouse because that's what boys want, but Wo also got a fine standalone playhouse because that's what girls want. His father and friends built him/her a playhouse. Remember, we told you that Wo is a Wo-man? Wo is both genders in this parable. So, we must consider that he/she is also a small girl as well. Wo also wanted a playhouse. We are now honoring the idea of gender details in this story as well, and what children of different genders often desire. The backyard is complete with both a treehouse and playhouse.
The backyard is also representing the inner child of Wo, and all of you. It's the place where the birthday parties were held as you grew up, marking your life's advance. The treehouse and playhouse were where you played house or where you pretended to make meals. It was a fort, a house, a workplace. It was many things. The backyard then becomes your childhood, your life and your belief system. The tree? It keeps growing and it can support anything. That's what you hang on to, because there are certain things in life that you must know are solid and unchanging.
Wo's tree was there long after the treehouse was gone. He was hanging on to that tree in his life and it grew and grew, and pretty soon that tree was enormous. In fact, it was almost as big as the backyard itself! It became like a canopy as in a forest, shading the entire backyard.
Wo would go into the backyard as an adult and would grab his drink and his straw and he'd sit there in his chair. “Sigh… this is the life.” His mind would be peaceful and he would think, “This is good and everything around me is good.” He would sit and reminisce in his mind, “I love this tree and the barrels. Thank you, memories, for being there. The treehouse is gone, but the playhouse is still here. Thanks for that, too. I have participated in it all and it is my life.”
Now, Wo was realistic, and he also had negative things happen in his backyard, but he was a good, balanced person and didn't think much about those things. He remembers the rats. He doesn't like to think about saying, “We have rats,” and, of course, he knows they do not come from his yard. They come over or under the fence from the neighbor's yard. Now Wo isn't going to tell the neighbor that because he likes and appreciates his neighbor. Wo thinks, “There are certain things you don't tell your neighbor and your friends. You don't tell them about their rats, you don't tell them how to raise their children, or that they are not color coordinated or have no taste. You simply love them.” So Wo always felt he could deal with the rats in his own way. They'd come and go, and although he didn't know how they'd come under or over the fence, he always just dealt with them.
The rats, of course, represent the ugly challenges in life. They are the things that you look at and you don't want to deal with, but you do anyway. Sometimes, in some backyards, there are just too many rats. That's when a person may go into dysfunction and stress. That's when Humans go into poor health. However, Wo had a good, balanced concept of life. He was a good Wo-man and dealt with the rats as best he could - mostly from not thinking about them.
Then there were the snakes. Now, Wo didn't have any idea how the snakes were getting into his yard, but he understood that snakes would go under fences so that's how they were doing it - smart snakes. Thankfully, there weren't many, but when there were any at all, he became afraid. He hated snakes and didn't want any part of them. He would go in the house and hide and call somebody else to get the snakes. Then when it was over, he would come out.
In this story, the snake represents the fear of something you can't fix. It was the fear of death, incurable disease or the fear of whatever it is that's beyond the rats. Wo would say, “I know how to deal with these things. I just get rid of them, don't think about them, and then eventually return to the place where I can sit in the chair with my drink and I can sip it through my straw and say, ‘I'm okay, I'm okay.'“
The Big Shift
All was good and stable until a certain date, and then came the earthquake. Wo can remember sitting there sipping his drink knowing that everything was just fine when the earthquake hit. Oh, it rumbled and it swayed, and he felt the big tree next to him crack like a gunshot. A branch or two slammed down onto the playhouse, causing it to lean slightly. Everything was disturbed all around him and it was frightening for the moment. Wo was pleased that he was not hurt, and he discovered his neighbors were not hurt either. He looked around, and although everyone seemed safe, there were some major changes and apparent damage.
Wo looked around to gauge the condition of everything. The tree looked a little different; the playhouse was at a little different angle, although it seemed to be okay. But he needed help to know for certain.
Soon the inspectors came. These are the ones who are in charge of safety for the backyards. They make the rules. Now the inspectors in this story represent authority. But this is a parable, so anything is possible. Sometimes authority pushes you to do things that then become an awakening. Sometimes authority isn't really as it seems. This was the kind of authority that can cause change. Now, get ready for this: Some of Wo's neighbors did NOT have the earthquake! No wonder they were fine. That tells you a little bit about the unspoken things in a parable, doesn't it?
You see, much like those who might be listening or reading this, Wo was an old soul. Wo was a good Wo-man. Wo had a consciousness that was ready to evolve, and he was a fine spiritual and gentle Wo-man. This earthquake shook up his backyard but wasn't even felt by some of his neighbors. Perhaps some of you understand this?
The inspectors came and they said to Wo, “Let's talk about the tree.” Wo immediately reacted, “If you're going to tell me the tree has to go. then you have to go. The tree stays no matter what!” The inspectors were kind and tried to calm Wo. They said, “No Wo, the tree can stay. It's a good tree. However, it's too heavy to be safe.” Then they gave Wo a lesson about how Gaia takes care of its trees. They reminded Wo that in the forests of Gaia, trees naturally are pruned through fire, insects or whatever is natural to allow them to survive. However, if a Human plants a tree outside of the forest environment, that person is then responsible for what Gaia would normally do. The tree needs to be pruned regularly for health and longevity. “Wo, you should have pruned it all along, so it's now unstable and needs to be reworked.”
Dear ones, if you are understanding this parable so far, you are seeing that Wo has gone through a shift, and that “pruning the tree” means that his reality needs to be adjusted to the energy he is living within, not the energy from his past. Depending upon who's here and who's listening, pruning the tree means you may have to re-evaluate your reality on a regular basis. Wo has not done that and most never do. “The tree” has always simply been “the tree”; however, suddenly it has become something that needs to be looked at.
Wo said, “I understand, but I don't want to watch. Will you assure me the tree will still be alive when you are finished?” They kindly replied, “Yes Wo - not just alive, but in a new condition where it's going to live for decades more, even past your own life. Wo, the tree is the tree. It's a beautiful tree and we would never hurt it. We're just going to prune it so it can grow better.”
When the pruning was finished, Wo came back, and he didn't know what he was going to see when he walked into the backyard. He opened the back door and fell to his knees, weeping. They hadn't pruned it, they'd killed it! Of course, this was not the case, but Wo had never seen a large tree after it was pruned, so he was not aware of what to expect. There was no more canopy, and seemingly there were no more branches. Everything seemed to be gone.
Of course, over time the tree continued growing and new growth replaced the funny-looking pruned tree. Also, Wo realized later that bugs no longer dropped in his drink (something that had always happened with the canopy)! There also were no more stinging bugs (who also lived in the canopy)! Wo noticed something else as well: The nice canopy shade was gone, and now he had to get sunglasses - way too much light! Let this metaphor not be lost on you right now. As you prune the reality from that which you clung to from the past, there will be more light in your life and far less irritation and stress from an old canopy of seemingly protective branches. The canopy didn't give you shade. It was a nest for an unchanging attitude, and it harbored its own growth of negativity. It shielded you from light and wonderful new truth. It was an unpruned tree.
The inspectors, who increasingly were being seen as more wise than authoritative, then said, “Oh, Wo I hope you didn't mind but in the process of pruning the tree, we had to move the barrels.” Wo turned green.
“OMG, you moved the barrels?” Wo cried. And they said, “Yes.” Wo looked around to see if the rapture had come, and perhaps he hadn't noticed (the neighborhood joke). They moved the barrels!
The inspectors continued, “Wo, when we moved the barrels, we noticed something. Did you know that you had a nest of snakes in there?”
Wo couldn't believe it. “What? The snakes were under the barrels?”
“Yes, Wo,” the inspectors replied. “They were under the barrels all the time. Did you ever look under those things? How many years have they been there, Wo? There were many things there that only live in the dark, which we needed to clean out. It looked as if the barrels hadn't been moved for decades.” Then Wo realized that for his entire life he never looked under the barrels. That's where the snakes were coming from all along.
Look at the metaphor, dear ones. The truths and ideas that you would never touch - the absolutes in your life - are the things that “your father” put there for you. If you had moved them, it would almost be a travesty to his memory. You just don't move those things that are so important to you. Perhaps it's not your father, but instead it's your pastor or your priest or the professor that you respected so much? You see? Those barrels don't move because that's a tribute to their memory. Yes, under the barrel were the snakes, because the barrels were never moved.
Things in an older energy can fester, become stale, and even become untrue with new discovery and new thought. If you cling to the past, even if the ideas originated from those you love and respect, you close yourself into a closet of old thinking. The longer you never move the barrels, the easier it is to continue in an old paradigm of thought. Here is a truth: God is the same today, tomorrow and forever. But our discovery of our relationship to God changes as the light gets brighter.
The inspectors were not finished. “Wo, I'm sorry to tell you this, but that playhouse is something you've got to get rid of. We could fix it, but it's going to cost too much. It would be better if we just got rid of it. It would have to be completely rebuilt. It doesn't really have a foundation, since it was built for you as a child's toy. It's going to fall on you.” Wo was numbed at this idea. However, logically he understood and told them to go ahead. So they took it away and cleaned up after.
When Wo came back the next day, it was gone. He met the inspectors, who he was getting to like more and more, and they discussed how the project had gone.
“Wo, you know it was harder than we thought to remove that playhouse.”
“Why is that?” Wo replied.
“Well, it's because you had a rat's nest in there. How long has it been since you actually went in there? Why did you keep it if you didn't use it?”
Wo went silent. The rats weren't coming from the neighbor's yard at all. They were coming from his childhood playhouse.
I want you to look at this metaphor, dear ones, for there are those of you who still have the memory of “the playhouse” and you will not go there. Someone along the line told you, “If you're going to be an adult, then act as an adult. Stay away from childish things. Stop laughing like a kid or getting excited like a kid. Don't get on your hands and knees like a kid. You are now a responsible adult and you must put away things of your childhood and not revisit them.”
Dear ones, listen! If you visit your inner child on a regular basis and make it part of your adult paradigm, it will save your life! Your inner child is who you are. That's the beauty of being a child. The innocence of a child is precious and pure. Going to that inner child place and playing on a regular basis makes you younger and chases the rats of depression and anxiety away. It is the most balancing thing a Human can do - laugh and enjoy, as though you were a child again.
Wo realized he had never gone in that playhouse as an adult. Wo was an old soul and he was balanced, but he had ignored these things and just let them become stale, thinking that they were too childish. He clung to the memory, but never revisited it in his reality. He didn't laugh much either, as he now realized. The metaphor of the rats and snakes is obvious, for without any care taking of these things, Wo allowed them to stay in the dark and allowed ignorance to grow there, which needs the darkness to exist.
The inspectors left, and Wo actually missed them. It was as though they were guides and not inspectors. They had helped Wo find himself after the earthquake. Of course, the inspectors were not authority at all, but the God within and the introspection and awareness of an awakening consciousness. It was the beginning of “oneness” where all things become visible for what they are.
Eventually over time, Wo found himself in the backyard sitting in his lawn chair with his drink and his straw and his sunglasses. The sun was bright, but this allowed him to see something else right away - color! The flowers were coming out, flowers he had not seen all his life. The new light in his yard gave him so much comfort and warmth.
Wo realized that all things were okay. The tree? He could still grab it and hang on, and it still supported him just as always. The new branches were wonderful and colorful and gave a different kind of shade. They were branches that were growing within Wo's current lifetime. They were Wo's branches and not the ones from his past. His security tree came from his own ideas and his own intuitive discoveries about reality. He also was not afraid to prune them regularly. This was no longer his father's tree.
In Wo's mind, the playhouse and the treehouse were still there. He could remember them and he could laugh and would squeal in delight as he remembered the hours and hours he played there. He even redesigned them in his new imagination to be even more stellar than they we