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Once upon a time in Ireland there was a handsome prince. His name was Condla, if you need to know. He was a good prince and a good son, and his father King Conn felt that all was well regarding the succession.
Then one day, Prince Condla and King Conn were walking in the hills. At once, a woman of supernatural beauty appeared, but only to Condla. She handed him an apple from the Land of Youth, and told him she was waiting for him there. In the Land of Youth, she said, there was no fighting, no death, and no evil.
King Conn could not see the woman; but he did hear the voice, and the apple was a verifiable fact. Condla put it by his bedside, and, over the months, it never showed any signs of decay.
Over the same months, Prince Condla grew more and more melancholy. He could not forget the beautiful woman. He could find no peace until he joined her in the Land of Youth.
And this, children, is the true story of what we call “depression,” or at least one strain of it.
There is much wisdom in fairy tales. They are the real psychology, and far more reliable than the modern "scientific" discipline.
Then one day, Prince Condla and King Conn were walking in the hills. At once, a woman of supernatural beauty appeared, but only to Condla. She handed him an apple from the Land of Youth, and told him she was waiting for him there. In the Land of Youth, she said, there was no fighting, no death, and no evil.
King Conn could not see the woman; but he did hear the voice, and the apple was a verifiable fact. Condla put it by his bedside, and, over the months, it never showed any signs of decay.
Over the same months, Prince Condla grew more and more melancholy. He could not forget the beautiful woman. He could find no peace until he joined her in the Land of Youth.
And this, children, is the true story of what we call “depression,” or at least one strain of it.
There is much wisdom in fairy tales. They are the real psychology, and far more reliable than the modern "scientific" discipline.
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