The context for these videos
Each post in this short series is from Alec’s weekly livestream to the Facebook group Finding the Balance with Anxiety Freedom Cards. Each week I focus upon one of our innate resources or needs as depicted in the Anxiety Freedom Cards. And the reason I’m doing this is to show you how you too can live a life free from anxiety and stress.
Please let me know what you think by scrolling to the bottom and commenting below!
Below is a direct transcript from the video shown above.
Well, hello and welcome to another Tuesday’s Two o’clock Topic on this Tuesday, the 4th of May (and may the fourth be with you!) Star Wars day, as they say. The topic for today’s discussion or sharing is one of our innate needs. It’s our need for respect.
And it’s one of the needs that’s been the most difficult to get met during lockdown? Well, at least for me personally. I don’t know whether that relates to your story, but a little story about the, the card we call it, respect. It’s card number 17.
When we were, when Bindi and I were taught this approach, we, the word status was very often used rather than respect. The two overlap and are to some degree, can be used interchangeably. But when we came to create the cards we felt that respect was maybe just a little bit truer to what was intended, because the word status can get misinterpreted. You know, some people think status means having a fancy car or a big house, or, you know, a trophy wife or something, you know, it’s “look at what I’ve got”. And there is an element of truth to, to the, the need for status. But I think that actually it doesn’t have to be material and respect is a word that’s used greatly in youth culture. And we felt that it was maybe truer to the original intention to use that word.
But what does it mean to you? What does respect mean to you? How do you get it? Does respect have to be earned or do you give it any way? If you have any thoughts about this subject, please drop a comment below with this post so that I know you’re watching either if you’re watching live or on replay, and I’ll be glad to address any questions that you might have too.
Just to set the context, this discussion is part of an approach, which we call the needs model of wellbeing. And it’s based upon the idea that if you get all of your innate needs met in balance and respect, obviously being one of them, then you’re living an optimum life to some degree. And the way to get your needs met in balance is to use your innate resources. So this is why we call it the needs model of wellbeing. And the ideal situation is to have, to be using all of your innate resources to get all of your needs met in balance. That would be ideal. Of course, you can’t get all your needs met at the same time because some of them actually mutually incompatible. So for instance, you can’t get your need for community met at the same time as your need for privacy, usually. There are some ways you can get it met, but this whole idea that stress and anxiety are caused by, or are symptoms of a lack of one or more of the things that we need is the basis of this needs model of wellbeing.
So how do you get respect? How have you been managing during lockdown? Is it something that has suffered? Are you aware that you have a lack of that sense of being appreciated for what you bring to the table? That’s one of the ways I, phrases I use to describe it, respect is about being valued for what we bring to the table.
So let’s just talk about it in terms of status again for a moment. And I really like the comparison of the headmaster of the school to the school janitor who cleans, cleans the toilets. You might think that the school head, the headmaster has more status and therefore has more respect, but actually if you want to know what’s happening in the playground, go and ask the janitor because he’ll know the names of all the kids and what they’re up to and where they’re hiding to have their crafty fag or whatever. And so in some real senses, it’s quite possible for the someone who’s low in the hierarchy. If you like the school janitor to have just as much, if not more respect, than the headmaster. It’s not a hierarchical status thing. And in fact, if you, if the parents of the children wants to want to know what’s going on quite often, they’d do well to ask the janitor rather than the headmaster. So I think it’s an interesting area to discuss this crossover between respect and status.
How do you get your need for respect met? Is it lacking at the moment? Let me just share with you how I’ve addressed this during the last year, which has been a very unusual year because of COVID and lockdown. I get it met through a variety of little independent activities, if you like. So I’m a member of a couple of Facebook groups where I take part in discussions on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. One or two, there’s a one that I chair or I kind of run, coordinate, and there are some regular zoom calls that I’m involved in. I recently did a course in lucid dreaming. So I’m taking part in a weekly zoom group for that. And the reason I say it meets my need for respect is that these are open-ended discussions where people are just sharing their experiences, but because of my work and because I’m really passionate about this needs model of well-being, I sometimes get the opportunity to share some of the things that I’ve learned. And when I do do that, and I, I take care not to hog the limelight, you know, and I, I, I listen as much, I listen more than I speak, but when I do get an opportunity to speak, then people quite often give me respect. They say, Oh, I like that or whatever. And I think that’s the key to knowing that you’re getting this form of nourishment, because each one of our needs is a form of nourishment. We don’t usually talk about it in that way, but you’ll know what it’s like if nobody cares what you do or what you bring to the table, or you’re completely ignored, then it’s quite a stressful position to be in. You haven’t got any respect.
So the other ways that I get respect, when anyone orders a set of cards on our website, I get a little warm glow, I think, Oh, that’s nice. Someone is valuing what we’ve done, what we’ve created. And when anyone new subscribes to the in8 membership programme, and I get a little burst of respect. So once a week, I go through a spreadsheet and add new customers. And it’s always nice to see that things are flowing in that way. I also occasionally put out videos and because I’m not the kind of person who puts out many posts per day on Facebook, I’ve never been, I’ve never been that way inclined. I like to think about what I want to say. I like to mull over it. And so my posts tend to be longer and more serious than what is generally considered entertainment, I guess.
But occasionally I do put together a video. I like editing videos. I like making videos. And the couple that I’ve done in the last year and one was on skateboarding and mental health. And that went down extremely well. And it got a lot of likes and a lot of discussion, a lot of comments. And that gave me a warm glow of being recognised for what I bring to the table.
And then last week, or a couple of weeks ago, I did a, a guitar solo from a Steely Dan track and posted that on YouTube. And again, I got quite a lot of comments, quite a lot of likes, and it just means that I feel at some level, somebody recognises what I’ve got to offer, but it’s so important that we do feel that. And when we are locked up at home and we’re not working, maybe, and we’re not visibly involved in any kind of endeavor or any enterprise to help other people or to contribute in a work way, then it can be quite hard to get that need met. So those are some of the ways that I get my need for respect met. And a few years ago, I was playing in a band and on a Friday night or a Saturday night, we’d do a dance. We go to a club or a pub, or sometimes we did weddings and the band was quite a good band and people liked it. And the best feeling in the world is when people are clapping at the end of the evening and shouting for more, and they don’t want you to pack up and go home. That was always a good feeling, but that hasn’t been happening over the last 18 months.
So what advice would you give to someone who may be feeling lack of this form of nutrition, who feels a lack of respect? I thought about that question, and I think that my own advice would begin by talking about self respect. And what does it mean to respect ourselves? And one way of addressing this is to actually sit down and get a pencil and paper out and write down your own best qualities.
And if you feel uneasy about doing that, then just let me remind you that you have to be able to love yourself before anyone else can love you. So there’s nothing wrong with writing down what you think you’re good at. In fact, I really actively encourage you to think about that. You know, are you the one in the family who is known for telling a joke, knitting, any activity you care to mention. If people know you for being good at a particular activity, or for being able to offer a kind word when it’s appropriate or being the person that you can ask for help or advice, then that’s a way of getting respect. But I think when it comes to making a list of achievements, I really like the idea of finding your golden thread.
And that’s idea that is based on looking back through your life, at the major events that have happened, the major things that you’ve succeeded in or enjoyed or been successful at. And seeing if you can find a thread that runs throughout of all of those, of what you’ve been interested in, in the sense of what lights you up. I know that my own golden thread is to try and figure out how the universe works now, you know, just a little thing like that. And I wouldn’t claim any major success in being able to answer that. But I have learned some things about human beings and about physics and about certain aspects of how the world works. And my golden thread certainly is to try to understand, but what’s your story?
You know, are you somebody who is a survivor? Have you survived against all odds?
Or are you someone who sees yourself as a success story and everything I’ve touched has turned to gold?
Are you a gardener, someone who nurtures and tends and helps other things, whether it’s people or plants or pets to grow, are you a nurturer?
Are you perhaps a teacher?
Are you a creative? Someone who gets lost in a creative endeavor and creates works of art of some sort?
Are you someone who was born to serve, to dedicate your life to the service of others?
Are you maybe just a special person who is completely unique?
It’s really interesting to kind of think through what label could you apply to yourself and then to give you credit, yourself credit for that journey that you’ve been on the whole of your life. Because if you find the golden thread, a thread that runs through everything and it doesn’t have to be in absolutely every experience you’ve had, but it has to have a flavour of how your life has evolved. I think it’s a really useful exercise to do.
Next week I will work through the risk, the worksheet on respect and will give it some practical numbers and some questions to answer. But in the meantime, I think that’s an exercise that’s interesting to do.
And then of course we have the question of respect for others. What is your attitude to the social niceties? Things like manners and etiquette? Are you somebody who respects other people’s opinions when you’re commenting on maybe a Facebook post or something? Or are you someone who says, I just say, tell it like it is, how much should we bend to not offending others? And how much should we prioritise singing our own song and saying clearly what our attitude is.
I was talking to Bindi about this earlier. And she was thinking of something that causes her to feel a lack of respect is when she goes to a shop and there’s a sign outside and it says, “No mask, no service.” And when you think about it, there’s so many different ways that that could be phrased. And there are valid reasons, exceptions for wearing a mask. There are people who have quite legitimate reasons for not wearing a mask, but to see a sign that says no mask, no service is kind of disrespectful to those people. And does, do you notice that? Does it apply to you? They could say, please, they could say it with a smile. They could say, we would love you to wear a mask. We would love you to help us keep everybody, you know, distanced and all the rest of it.
And I think it’s interesting that there is such a thing as pretend respect, and you hear people saying “I’m not being funny, but…” and you know that when anyone starts with that phrase, something pretty caustic is going to come out next. And that idea that, “Oh, well, I’m just me. I just tell it like it is”, kind of shows a tendency towards a lack of understanding that there is an interplay to build rapport with people. There is a little song and dance that we do that involves small talk and talking about the weather and just a bit mind your P’s and Q’s, you know, saying please, and thank you and that kind of stuff. And the, the whole question of respect brings these issues into light, I think.
So that’s all I’m going to say about respect for today. I’m keeping it a little bit short because the story I want to share with you, I, I looked around for different versions of this story. It’s a story that you will probably know because it’s quite a famous story, but I decided that having looked at several to go to the source and I’m gonna read this story. And it’s quite a long one. It’s probably the longest one I’ve shared, but it’s totally relevant to this whole question of respect, but it’s from Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen.
So are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin. This is the story of The Ugly Duckling.
It was so lovely out in the country. It was summer. The wheat stood golden. The oats, green. The hay had been piled in stacks down in the green meadows. And there, the stork went about on his long red legs and spoke Egyptian, for that is the language he had learned from his mother. Around the fields and meadows were great forests. And in the midst of the forests were deep lakes. Yes, it really was lovely out there in the country. Squarely in the sunshine, stood an old manor house with a deep moat, all around it. And from the walls down to the water, grew huge dock leaves that were so high, that little children could stand upright under the biggest. It was a dense, it was as dense in there as in the deepest forest. And here sat a duck on her nest. She was about to hatch out her little ducklings, but now she had just about had enough of it because it was taking so long and she seldom had a visitor.
The other ducks were fonder of swimming about in the moat than of running up and sitting under a dock leaf to chatter with her. Finally, one egg after another started cracking. Cheap, cheap! they said. All the egg yolks had come to life and stuck out their heads. Quack quack! She said. And then they quacked as hard as they could and peered about on all sides under the green leaves. And their mother let them look about as much as they liked. For green is good to the eyes. My how big the world is said all the youngsters, for now, of course, they had far more room than when they were inside the eggs. Do you think this is the whole world said the mother, it stretches all the way to the other side of the garden right into the parson’s, meadow, but I’ve never been there.
“Well, you’re all here now, aren’t you?” And then she got up.
“No, I don’t have them all. The biggest egg is still there. How long will it take? Now I’ll soon get tired of it.” And then she settled down again.
“Well, how’s it going?” said, an old duck who’d come to pay her a visit.
“One egg is taking so long”, said the duck, who was hatching. “It won’t crack, but now you shall see the others. They’re the prettiest ducklings I’ve ever seen. They all look just like their father, the wretch, who doesn’t even come to visit me.”
“Let me see that egg that won’t crack”, said the old duck. “You can be certain it’s a turkey egg. I was fooled like that myself once. And I had my sorrows and troubles with those youngsters, for they were afraid of the water. I can tell you, I couldn’t get them out in it. I quacked and I snapped, but it didn’t help. Let me have a look at that egg. Yes, it’s a Turkey egg all right! You just let it lie there and teach the other children how to swim. ”
“Oh I still want to sit on it a little longer,” said the duck. “I’ve been sitting on it for so long that I can just as well, wait a little longer.”
“Suit yourself”, said the old duck and she left.
Finally, the big egg cracked. “Cheap cheap!” said the youngster and tumbled out. He was very big and ugly. The duck looked at him.
“Now that’s a terribly big duckling”, she said, “none of the others look like that. Could he be a Turkey chick after all? Well, we’ll soon find out. Into the water he’ll go. Even if I have to kick him out into it myself.”
The next day, the weather was perfect. The sun shone on all the green dock leaves. The mother duck came down to the moat with the whole family. Splash! She jumped into the water. “Quack quack” she said. And one duckling after another jumped in. The water washed over their heads. But they came up again at once and floated splendidly. Their feet moved of themselves and they were all out in the water. Even the ugly grey youngster was swimming too.
“That’s no Turkey,” she said, “see how splendidly he uses his legs, how straight he holds himself. That’s my own child. As a matter of fact, he’s quite handsome when one looks at him in the right way. Quack quack! Now come with me and I’ll take you out into the world and present you to the duck yard.”
But always keep close to me so that no one steps on you and keep an eye out for the cat. And then they came to the duck yard. There was a terrible commotion for two families were fighting over an eel’s head. And then the cat got it, of course.
“See that’s the way it goes in this world”, said the mother duck and smacked her bill for, she would have liked to have had the eels head herself.
“Now use your legs”, she said. “See if you can’t step lively and bow your necks to that old duck over there. She’s the most aristocratic of anyone here. She has Spanish blood in her veins. That’s why she’s so fat. And see, she has a red rag around her leg. That’s something very special and is the highest honor any duck can receive. It means that no one wants to get rid of her. And that she is to be recognised by animals and men. Be quick! Out with your toes! A well brought up duck places his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother. Now, then bow your necks and say quack!”
This they did. But the other ducks all around, looked at them and said, quite loudly. “Look there! Now we’re to have one more batch. As if there weren’t enough of us already and fie, how that duckling looks! We won’t put up with him.” And at once a duck flew over and bit him in the neck.
“Leave him alone,” said the mother. “He’s not bothering anyone.”
“Yes, but he’s too big and queer”, said the duck who had bitten him. “So she has to be pushed around.”
“Those are pretty children the mother has”, said the old duck with a rag around her leg. “They’re all pretty except that one. He didn’t turn out right. I do wish she could make him over again.”
“That can’t be, your grace”, said the mother duck. “He’s not pretty, but he has an exceedingly good disposition. And he swims as well as any of the others. Yes, I might venture to say, a bit better. I do believe he’ll grow prettier or in time, a little smaller. He’s laying in the egg too long. So he hasn’t got the right shape.”
And then she ruffled his feathers and smoothed them down.
“Besides he’s a drake, so it doesn’t matter very much. I think he’ll grow much stronger. He’ll get along all right. ”
“The other ducklings are lovely”, said the old duck. “Just make yourself at home. And if you can find an eel’s head, you may bring it to me.”
And so they made themselves quite at home. But the poor duckling who’d been the last one out of the egg and looked so ugly, was bitten and shoved and ridiculed by both the ducks and the hens.
“He’s too big”, they all said.
And the turkey cock who had been born with spurs on and so believed himself to be an emperor, puffed himself up like a ship in full sail, went right up to him and gobbled until he got quite red in the face. The poor duckling didn’t know whether to stay or go. He was miserable because he was so ugly and was the laughing stock of the whole duck yard. So the first day passed, but afterward it grew worse and worse. The poor duckling was chased by everyone. Even his brothers and sisters were nasty to him. And were always saying “If only the cat would get you, you ugly wretch!”
And his mother said, “If only you were far away” and the ducks bit him and the hands pecked him and the girl who had the poultry kicked at him. Then he ran and flew over the hedge. The little birds in the bushes flew up in fright.
“It’s because I’m so ugly” thought the duckling and shut his eyes, but he still kept on running. Then he came out into the big marsh where the wild ducks lived. He was so exhausted and happy that he lay there all night. In the morning, the wild ducks flew up and looked at their new comrade.
“What kind of a duck are you?” they asked. And the duckling turned from one side to the other and greeted them as best he could. “How ugly you are!” said the wild ducks.
“But it makes no difference to us, as long as you don’t marry into our family.”
Poor thing, he certainly wasn’t thinking about marriage. All he wanted was to be allowed to lie in the rushes and to drink a little water from the marsh. There he lay for two whole days. And then there came two wild geese, or rather to wild ganders, for they were both males, not long out of the egg. And therefore they were quite saucy.
“Listen, comrades!”, they said. “You’re so ugly that you appeal to us. Want to come along and be a bird of passage? In another marsh close by are some sweet, lovely wild geese, every single one unmarried. Who can say quack. You’re in a position to make your fortune, ugly as you are.”
Bang! bang! Shots suddenly rang out above them. And both the wild geese fell down dead in the rushes. And the water was red with blood. Bang! bang! It sounded again, and whole flocks of wild geese flew up out of the rushes and the guns cracked again. A great hunt was on. The hunters lay around the marsh. Yes, some were even sitting up in the branches of the trees that, that hung over the water. The blue smoke drifted in among the dark trees and hovered over the water. Into the mud, came the hunting dogs. Splash! splash! Reeds and rushes swayed on all sides. The poor duckling was terrified. He turned his head to put it under his wing. And at the same moment found himself face to face with a terribly big dog. Its tongue was hanging way out of its mouth and its eyes gleamed horribly. It opened its jaws over the duckling ,showed it’s sharp teeth and, splash, went on without touching him.
“Oh, heaven be praised” sighed the duckling. “I’m so ugly that even the dog doesn’t care to bite me!”
And then he laid quite still while the buckshot whistled through the rushes and shot after shot resounded. Not until late in the day, did it become quiet. But even then the poor duckling didn’t dare get up. He waited several hours before he looked around. Then he hurried out of the marsh as fast as he could. He ran over field and meadows and there was such a wind that the going was hard.
Toward evening he came to a wretched little house. It was so ramshackled that it didn’t know which way to fall. And so it remained standing. The wind blew so hard around the duckling that he had to sit on his tail to keep from blowing away. Then he noticed that the door was off one of its hinges, and hung so crookedly that he could slip into the house through the crack. And this he did.
Here lived an old woman with her cat and her hen and the cat, who she called Sonny, could arch his back and purr. And he even gave off sparks, but only if one stroked him the wrong way. The hen had quite short, tiny legs. So she was called chicky low legs. She had, she laid good eggs. And the old woman was fond of her as if she were one of her own, as if she were her own child. In the morning the strange duckling notice, was noticed at once and the cat started to purr and the hen to cluck.
“What’s that?” said the old woman and looked around. But she couldn’t see very well, so she thought the duckling was a fat duck that had lost its way.
“Why, that was a fine catch”, she said. “Now I can get duck eggs! If only it’s not a drake, then we’ll have to try”.
So the duckling was accepted on trial for three weeks, but no eggs came. And the cat was master of the house and the hen, madam. And they always said, we in the world for they believe that they were half of the world. And the very best half of that. The duckling thought there might be another opinion, but the hen wouldn’t stand for that.
“Can you lay eggs?” she asked.
“Then keep your mouth shut!”
And the cat said, “Can you arch your back, purr and give off sparks?”
“Well then, keep your opinion to yourself when sensible folks are speaking!”
And the duckling sat in the corner in low spirits. Then he started thinking of the fresh air and the sunshine. He had such a strange desire to float on the water. At last, he couldn’t help himself, he had to tell it to the hen.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You have nothing to do. That’s why you’re putting on these airs. Lay eggs or purr, then it’ll go over!”
“But it’s so lovely to float on the water”, said the duckling. “So lovely to get it over your head and duck down to the bottom”.
“Yes, a great pleasure. I dare say” said the hen. “You’ve gone quite mad. Ask the cat. He’s the wisest one I know. If he likes to float on the water and duck under it, not to mention myself, ask our mistress, the old woman. There’s no one wiser than she in the whole world. Do you think she wants to float and get water over her head?”
“You, you don’t understand me”, said the duckling.
“Well, if we don’t understand you, who would indeed, they’ll never be wiser than the cat and the old woman not to mention myself. Don’t put on as my child. Thank you, creator for all. And thank your creator for all the good that has been done for you. Haven’t you come into a warm house, into a circle from which you can learn something, but you’re a fool, and it’s no fun associating with you. Believe you me. When I tell you harsh truths, it’s for your own good. And this way one can know one’s true friends. See to it now that you start laying eggs or learn to purr and give off sparks.”
“I think I’ll just go out into the wide world”, said the duckling.
“Yes. Just do that”, said the hen.
So the duckling went out, he floated on the water and dived down to the bottom. But he was shunned by all the animals because of his ugliness. Now it was autumn. The leaves in the forest turn golden and brown. The wind took hold of them and they danced about. The sky looked cold and the clouds were heavy with hail and snow. A raven stood on the fence and shrieked “Off! off!” just from the cold. Merely thinking of it could make one freeze.
The poor duckling was really in a bad way. One evening as the sun was setting in all its splendour, a great flock of beautiful large birds came out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen anything so lovely. They were shining white with long supple necks. They were swans, and uttering a strange cry, they spread their splendid broad wings and flew away from the cold meadows to warmer lands and open seas. They rose so high, so high and the ugly little duckling had such a strange feeling. He moved around and around in the water, like a wheel stretching his neck high into the air after them. And uttering a cry so shrill and strange that he frightened even himself. Oh, he couldn’t forget those lovely birds, those happy birds. And when he could no longer see them, he dived right down to the bottom. And when he came up again, he was quite beside himself. He didn’t know what those birds were called or where they were flying, but he was fonder of them than he’d ever been of anyone before.
He didn’t envy them in the least. How could it occur to him to wish for such loveliness for himself? He would have been glad if only the ducks had tolerated him in their midst, the poor ugly bird.
And the winter was so cold, so cold. The duckling had to swim about in the water to keep from freezing. But each night, the hole in which he swam became smaller and smaller. It froze, so the crust of the ice creaked. The duckling had to keep his legs moving so the hole wouldn’t close. But at last he grew tired, lay quite still and froze fast in the ice. Early in the morning, a farmer came along. He saw the duckling, went out and made a hole in the ice with his wooden shoe, and then carried him home to his wife. There he was brought back to life.
The children wanted to play with him, but the duckling thought they wanted to hurt him. And in his fright, he flew into the milk dish, so the milk splashed out into the room. The woman shrieked and waved her arms. Then he flew into the butter trough and down into the flour barrel and out again.
“My! how you look now!” The woman screamed and hit at him with the tongs and the women knocked each other over trying to capture him. And they laughed and shrieked. It was a good thing that the door was standing open. Out flew the duckling amongst the bit, among the bushes, into the newly fallen snow and here. And he lay there as if stunned, but it would be far too sad to tell of all the suffering and misery he had to go during that hard winter.
He was lying in the marsh among the rushes when the sun began to shine warmly again. The larks sang, it was a beautiful spring. Then all at once, he raised his wings. They beat more strongly than before and powerfully carried him away. And before he knew it, he was in a large garden where the apple trees were in bloom and the fragrance of lilacs filled the air where they hung on the long green branches right down to the winding canal.
Oh, it was so lovely here with the freshness of spring. And straight ahead, out of the thicket came three beautiful swans. They ruffled their feathers and floated so lightly on the water. The duckling recognised the magnificent birds and was filled with a strange melancholy.
“I will fly straight to them, these royal birds. And they will peck me to death because I’m so ugly and yet dared to approach them. But it doesn’t matter. Better to be killed by them than to be bitten by the ducks, pecked by the hens, kicked by the girl who takes care of the poultry yard or suffer such hardships during the winter!”
And he flew out into the water and swam over toward the magnificent swans. They saw him and hurried towards him with ruffled feathers.
“Just kill me”, said the poor creature, and bowed down his head towards the surface of the water and awaited his death.
But what did he see in the clear water? Under him he saw his own reflection. But he was no longer a clumsy, greyish, black bird, ugly and disgusting. He was a swan himself. Being born in a yard doesn’t matter if one is laying in a swan’s egg.
He felt quite happy about all the hardships and suffering that he had undergone. Now he could really appreciate his happiness and all the beauty that greeted him. And the big swans swam around him and stroked him with their bills.
Some little children came down to the garden and threw bread and seeds into the water and the smallest one cried “There’s a new one”. And the other children joined in, shouting jubilantly “Yes, the new one has come!” And they all clapped their hands and danced for joy and ran to get their father and mother. And bread and cake were thrown into the water and they all said “The new one is the prettiest, so young and lovely!” And the old swans bowed to him. Then he felt very shy, and put his head under his wing, but he didn’t know why. He was much too happy, but not proud at all for a good heart is never proud.
He thought of how he’d been persecuted and ridiculed. And how he heard everyone saying that he was the loveliest of all the lovely birds. And the lilacs bowed their branches right down to the water to him. And the sun shone so warm and bright. Then he ruffled his feathers, lifted his slender neck, and from the depths of his heart said, joyously. “I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the ugly duckling”.
So that’s quite a long version of the Ugly Duckling, but I think it’s just the best version. It’s the original one by Hans, well, even that’s not the original, original one, but it’s the one by Hans Christian Andersen. And I thought it was worth telling because the language is so nice.
So I’ve got a comment here from CG saying, Oh, she missed it. I thought it was tonight. Instead. Hope you’re well, I am well CG. I’m sorry you missed it. And I’m sorry, I didn’t post the link earlier in the day. I’ve struggled to get everything together in time today. And I’ve just about made it. I hope you like the replay. I hope you like the story. And I look forward to connecting with you again at some point soon.
Next week will be the second installment of our innate need for respect. And as I said earlier, I’ll be working through the worksheet. So in the meantime, if you’ve got any thoughts about your attitude to this one of our needs, if you want to share any, any aspects of your thoughts or your tips for how to help others who may be maybe lacking a sense of respect, then please do share them in the comments below, whether you’re watching this live or on replay. And of course, if you’ve got any questions, please let me know and I’ll do my best to address them.
And so until next Tuesday, whatever else you’re doing, don’t forget to keep breathing.
Please let me know what you think by commenting below!