Copperlocks and the Three Bears: Part Three
What is, “just right?”
If you’re coming into this story with this post, it will make much more sense if you read the first two parts. Each of them has a link to go on to the next installment.
Tap or click here for part one.
Tap or click here for part two.
When I got to the point of Goldilocks’ discovery by the bears, I faced a quandary.
Which direction should I go?
Should the bears eat her so their secret wouldn’t get out?
Too dark.
Should I have her realize the error of her ways and make a full apology, then have to work for them as their servant for a week?
Too moralistic.
Here’s what I came up with. Hopefully you agree that it’s “just right.”
Goldilocks woke in a room that looked straight out of a knockoff amusement park. She’d been to all the Disney parks in Florida and knew a cheap imitation when she saw it. She lay under a faded and frayed bedspread, and the furniture around her had seen better days as well. The walls had water stains, and when she looked at the ceiling, the pattern of cracks appeared to shift and move in dizzying undulations.
Or perhaps the shadows played tricks on her, for only one light shone and illuminated a little animatronic bear.
They’d made some effort with the character, at least. It sat in a half-size rocking chair, which barely moved with the motion of one paw on the floor. The bear had a book open on its lap. Every so often, it changed the page and appeared to be reading.
Then it looked up and smiled, revealing its sharp teeth.
Goldilocks dove under the covers, but the bear’s voice made her peek from beneath them.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I’ll warn you — Dad’s pissed you threw up on him.”
A strange pang shot from Goldy’s chest to her throat. She wouldn’t like to be thrown up on, either.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” The words felt strange in Goldilocks’ mouth. The only times she’d apologized were when Mommy made her. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was scared.” Would they eat her?
“It’s okay. He’ll get over it. He’s experienced worse, Mum said. She washed your clothes, by the way.”
Goldy looked under the sheets and saw she wore a t-shirt and shorts, not the dress she’d worn into the woods. “Oh. Thank you.” Other strange words, jumping from her mouth. But she needed to appear sweet and unthreatening. They wouldn’t wash her clothes if they were going to eat her, right? But an equally disturbing thought came to her.
“Am I… Am I your pet now?”
The little bear laughed. “No, not unless you want to be. Mum says I can’t keep you. But she did feel badly for you, lost all the way out here.”
“Where am I?”
The bear shrugged. Could bears shrug? No, but they couldn’t read, either.
“And what does B.B. stand for? Is it Baby Bear?”
B.B. looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “No, it’s Bartholomew Bertrand. Family names.”
“Really?”
He fixed her with his black gaze. “No.”
“Why won’t you tell me your…oh!”
Things started falling into place. Goldilocks had received an education, not from school, but from fairy tales and stories that talked about how the world worked, even if it was, “once upon a time.”
She hadn’t fallen into a movie, so… “Are you fairies? Am I in Fairyland?”
The bear touched his nose with one clawed finger. “And it’s almost time for you to go home. If you want. Or you could stay here.”
Home… Back to her mother. And father. And their arguments, but also Darlene’s strawberry vanilla milkshakes and family movie night. And power posing with Mommy and laughing and going to get burgers with Daddy and him calling her his little princess.
“I’ll go home, please.”
“And what will you do once you get there?”
Goldilocks knew the bear could tell if she spoke the truth, so she answered honestly. “I’ll probably be naughty and selfish, but I’ll also try to pay attention to how I make others feel. And I won’t use or eat their stuff without asking, or I’ll try to remember to.”
“Well,” the bear sighed, “at least you’re honest.”
The walls faded, and Goldilocks found herself sitting on the trail near where the butterfly had landed on her nose. She wore her own clothes, but when she reached into the pocket of her apron, she found a copy of “Twenty-Five Quick Self-Care Strategies for Busy Moms.”
Joy bloomed in her chest, not only at being home, but at thinking about her mother’s face when she gave her the book.
“Mommy will like this!”
Goldilocks ran home and found Darlene on the back porch with a still-icy milkshake. Goldilocks darted up the stairs and hugged the old woman.
“My, my, what do we have here?”
Goldilocks squinted up. That voice… For a second, Darlene, blinked, and her eyes turned black like a bear’s, but then she smiled, and her eyes returned to faded blue.
“Just because. Thank you for the milkshake.”
And while Goldilocks didn’t live happily ever after—there’s no such thing, dear reader—she lived long and well and yes, snarkily.
When her own children and grandchildren were naughty, she told them about the bears, but she never answered whether what she had experienced was real or just a snarky story.
Okay, what was the point of all this?
First, I needed to do something creative and fun as I ramp up to write a commission piece and research the final novel for a contract with a small publishing house. Past me thought it would be great to set said in medieval Constantinople. Current me is not happy with past me for this, but we’re going to do the best we can.
Second, I teach the Rule of Three in Psych Up Academy because I find it to be a super useful structure. I can’t think of anything we have three of in our bodies, but our brains really like the number.
What is the Rule of Three? A way of structuring a narrative where the first two solutions or parts don’t get you all the way there, so you need a third that somehow combines or transcends the first two.
The story of Goldilocks and the three bears, with its refrain of “too this, too that, just right” is probably the earliest example many of us read. Oh, and I decided not to do both chairs and beds because that would make it go too long, and you probably already got the point. So I apologize for not meeting that part of the three-act structure.
And now let’s go deeper…
First, what do the bears themselves represent?
Papa Bear is the masculine principle. He likes his surfaces hard and has fiery warrior (Mars) qualities symbolized by the heat of the soup.
The complaints of “too hard” and “too hot” could also be stereotypical masculine traits taken to the extreme.
The Tarot cards that this character reminds me of are the Emperor and two of the kings. The Emperor is the epitome of order. He’d have those cushion stones arranged with Mathematical precision and defend his family without a thought. The kings take care of those around them, but the four of them also have their flaws. The King of Swords is emotionally distant, or too hard. The King of Wands is the risk-taker, the adrenaline junky, or too hot.
On the other hand, Mama Bear represents the exaggerated feminine principles. Outwardly, she’s soft, and I also wanted to emphasize that she extends her softness to others in a way that means she’s neglecting her own needs. Her chair full of cushions with the buried self-care strategy book and the cold soup show that she’s not able to sit down long enough to enjoy the comforts she gives others.
We find this exaggerated feminine principle in the Empress, who is often shown pregnant and surrounded by comforts. But are there any decks that show her being taken care of, as one would imagine an empress, especially one pregnant with an heir, to be? She’s self-sufficient, but does she ask for help when she needs it?
The queens that go along with this are the Queen of Cups and Queen of Pentacles. The Queen of Cups is also sometimes portrayed as pregnant (as in Deborah Blake’s Everyday Witch Tarot) and takes care of others. When she comes up for me, especially reversed, she reminds me that I need to focus on replenishing my well. For this queen and for myself, self-nurturing and creativity go hand-in-hand.
Then there’s the Queen of Pentacles, who is also caring, but can be smothering and controlling. That’s also a shadow of the Queen of Cups, and this shows that we all develop our own unique meanings for these cards. The Queen of Pentacles is the one who warns me of smothering influences or that I may be in a place of trying to control too much, which will result in burnout.
I’ll go ahead and bring in the Queen of Swords here, who is “too cold” in many interpretations, meaning she’s reserved because betrayal has ensured she doesn’t trust easily. That’s why she keeps her sword handy.
Isn’t it interesting that in order to wield a phallic symbol, this queen needs to have experienced trauma?
That’s a post for another day. Being a woman is hard, y’all.
Then we have Goldilocks, who is our Fool Tarot card. She sets out on her adventure, following her impulse and whim. As a small child, she’s full of potential. She also acts on the messages she’s received, but without full understanding. Her limited experience gives her some references, but not enough for survival. The question is, which archetype will they nudge her toward? She tries on a few in our snarky tale, mostly ones that give her a false sense of power.
You’ll have noticed that instead of having Goldilocks fall asleep in Baby Bear’s bed, she hides when the bears return home. That was intentional. When we have to face the fact that we’re not as in control as we want to be, particularly if we’ve been acting in a way that’s not authentic, our first impulse is often to hide. Sometimes that looks like isolation. Sometimes it’s self-soothing through food. Sometimes it’s substance use. But no matter what we do, we have to come out from under the table at some point. The Fool walks along the edge of a cliff, and it’s up to him whether he’ll look down and see the danger, hopefully before it’s too late.
On the other side, we have Baby Bear. He’s the actualized child, the one who’s taken the extremes given to him by his parents and society and integrated them, or has started to. What Tarot card would he be? I’ll wager something like Justice, which represents balance and “just rightness” in the external world. But of course, it can’t last forever, leading to the new perspective of Hanged One and letting go of Death.
No, alas, we never finish our emotional work. That’s why life continues to be an adventure regardless of circumstances.
In my upcoming eight-week intensive called Your Sacred Expression, I’ll be talking about how fairy tale structures and archetypes can help you plan your nonfiction book. Do you think this would be a good fit for you?
Tap here to learn more, and please PM me if you have any questions!