From one who set out to unlearn fear

Fairy tale text by Undine & Jens [2025]
Interpretation by Undine & Jens in green [2025]

Once upon a time, there lived a little potter’s boy who was often very afraid, especially when he was sent into the dark cellar of the old house. He always felt that many terrible ghosts lived there behind creepy cobwebs and that the darkness would reach out and grab him with a cold hand from all sides.

The father understood the child’s feelings and one day made him a small clay pipe. “If you’re afraid,” he said, “then blow into this pipe! The sound will help you.” Sometimes it did help, and with the sound, a light appeared that chased the ghosts away. Soon the boy noticed that the pipe had small holes. When he covered them, different sounds rang out, sometimes even little songs. He was very surprised and asked his father, “Where does the sound from the clay pipe come from?” “From your breath, my son!” answered the father. At these words, he smiled as he hadn’t smiled in a long time, since the mother had died so young.

For a long time, the potter’s boy wore his clay pipe on a string around his neck. And yet, he often asked himself, “Why was I born in such an old house with such a dark cellar?” He saw many other children living in beautiful, new houses and began to compete with them. When they climbed trees, he always wanted to be the highest. But when he reached the top and looked down, the fear immediately returned that he might fall and die. When the children dove to the bottom of the lake, he always wanted to stay down the longest. But when his air became scarce, the fear returned that he might suffocate. And when he wrestled with them, he always wanted to win. But after every victory came the fear of perhaps losing the next fight. Sometimes his pipe helped him, but not always.

So, the time came when his father sent him to the village school. The teacher said, “Those who study diligently will receive a good grade!” The potter’s boy wanted to be the best again and studied hard, as much as he could. But when he stood before the class and was questioned by the teacher, fear gripped him. It weighed heavily on his chest, and often he could barely utter a word. He longed to play his pipe, but he didn’t dare do it in front of the whole class. Weeping, he came home to his father, but even he was at a loss. So, he spoke to the pastor at the village church, who said that only God could help. Thus, the potter’s boy was accepted into the church choir, where he, along with the other children, was to sing holy songs at the front of the altar, praising the holy God. He did so with all his might and wanted to be the best in the entire choir. But one day, when he was to step forward and sing, the terrible fear returned, choking him. Only a hoarse croak came out, and half the church laughed. That was his last performance. The father, once again at a loss, tried to at least teach the boy pottery. Then he could sit contentedly in the workshop and work. Here, too, he threw himself into it with all his strength and passion, but more and more often, as the clay vessel grew taller and thinner on the potter’s wheel, the fear rose within him that it might break. Then he would begin to tremble, and sure enough, it would shatter. Then he played a little tune on his pipe until calm returned and his spirits lifted. But the fear still lurked in his heart.

Several years passed, and one day the potter’s son said to his father, “I want to wander out into the wide world to unlearn fear, for I can’t manage it here.” The father gazed at him thoughtfully for a long time. Then he said, “Very well, my boy. So be it. I am only a poor potter and can’t give you much. Here, take some money, the little lantern, and your mother’s ring.” With this blessing, the young man set off on his wanderings. He left the village and fields behind and followed his nose, without knowing where he was going. Toward evening, he came to a large forest. With his lantern, he found a path, whistled a tune on his clay pipe, and walked into the night.

“Now I’m going out into the world and to sleep under the stars,
So I must eventually unlearn fear.
I’m not afraid of robbers or wolves,
Someone will surely help me on my way.”

He wandered until he grew tired and could go no further. He slept restlessly under a tree. As dawn broke, a horrible noise awoke him. Startled, he saw a fox before him, and fear gripped him instantly. He blew his whistle, but the animal didn’t flee from the sound; instead, it drew near and sniffed curiously at the whistle. His fear subsided, the fox turned away, and trotted slowly into the woods, as if to show him a path. The potter’s son quickly rose and followed the trail.

Soon, he saw a beautiful maiden sitting on the opposite shore of a small lake. A horse grazed behind her, and she gazed sadly into the shimmering water. He crept quietly around the lake, but he couldn’t find her on the shore. As he looked around curiously, someone suddenly jumped out of the bushes, pushed him against an old tree, and held a sharp knife to his throat. What a fright! An attack! Robbers! Mortal terror froze the young man.

“If you are trapped in mortal fear,
you must tremble for your life.”

But when he came to, he saw the beautiful maiden standing before him, knife in hand. She was no less frightened and believed she was about to be attacked. For a brief moment that felt like an eternity, they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. The potter’s son was then overcome by a warm and vibrant feeling, the likes of which he had never experienced before. What was this? The cold, mortal fear vanished. Bravely, he looked into the eyes of the young woman, who was now also visibly moved and asked him, “Who are you?” “I am a potter’s son,” he replied, “and I went out into the world to unlearn fear.” The maiden gazed at him for a long time. Then she lowered the knife, and they sat down in silence by the small lake.

After a while, he asked, “And who are you?” She smiled and replied, “I am your anxious soul.” Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes, her voice faltered, but then she continued softly, “Not far from here begins a great swamp. My father was once king there, and the land was a little paradise. But my mother died young, and I remained the only child of the sorrowful king. After my mother’s early death, terrible things happened, and the royal castle was soon overrun by dreadful ghosts. My father fled with me and his retinue into the forest, to the very edge of his kingdom, where we have lived in tents ever since. The entire kingdom was shrouded in darkness and became a ghostly swamp. For several years, my father fought with his soldiers, but without success. Then he promised me in marriage to the one who could free the enchanted castle from its haunting. Many fearless heroes have tried, but all were overcome by terrible fear there and died in madness. Now I have met you here in the forest, and when we looked into each other’s eyes a little while ago, I knew: You didn’t come here by chance. You are my heart, and I am your soul. So please forgive my rough welcome. You know that as a princess, I grew up more in the wild forest than in a refined court.” He gazed at the beautiful maiden in wonder and couldn’t utter a word. After a while, the princess jumped up and cried, “I must go now! My father is waiting.” As a farewell, she kissed him on the cheek. He looked at her doubtfully: “Will you really wait for me?” - “Yes, I will always wait for you.” Then he remembered his mother’s ring, took it from his pocket, pressed a loving kiss to it, and handed it to the princess, saying, “And my heart will always beat for you. But how will I see you again?” - “Just continue on your way. The swamp is not far. I will be waiting for you there.” With these words, she swung herself onto her horse like a skilled rider and disappeared into the depths of the forest.

The potter’s son sat by the lake for a long time, staring into the dark mirror of the water. Then he mustered his courage, looked around, and felt the fox begin to lead him again, even though he could only see him as a shadowy figure in the distance. Evening fell, and darkness grew. The light from his lantern didn’t reach far, and the forest became increasingly swampy and eerie. Soon, only dead trees rose from the swamp, ghostly, like the arms of the dead reaching out to him. Bats fluttered around his head, and all around him echoed the cries of wild animals. Bravely, he whistled his songs, walking ever deeper into the darkness, yet miraculously never straying from the path. Soon, he saw a small light in the distance, drawing ever nearer. It was an old, half-ruined inn, and he longed to find something to eat and shelter for the night there.

Bravely, he knocked on the rickety door. With a creak, it opened a crack. An old innkeeper peered through and asked grumpily, “What do you want, lad?” “Something to eat and a place to sleep.” - “Can you pay?” He handed some of his father’s money through the crack, the door opened, and he stepped into a smoky inn. Sinister figures sat in dark corners, bellowing to themselves. He wanted to leave immediately, but it wasn’t much better outside. The gray-haired innkeeper sat him down at a table, brought soup and bread, and asked curiously, “Where do you come from?” - “I came through the swamp.” The innkeeper looked at him in astonishment: “No living person has come through the swamp here for a long time. What are you looking for?” - “I came out into the world to unlearn fear.” Then the old innkeeper laughed as he hadn’t laughed in a long time: “Yes, you’ve come to the right place, because that’s why they all come here.”

He placed a large tankard of strong wine on the table and said, “Drink bravely, and you will have no more fear!” He did so, and soon he was slurring and roaring along with the others.

“Drink, brothers, drink,
Grab your cup, joy beckons!
Avoid sorrow and avoid pain,
Yes, then life is a joke!”

As dawn broke and daylight filtered sparsely through the small, soot-covered windowpanes, the potter’s son awoke, having fallen asleep at his table like many other guests of the inn. Soon the innkeeper arrived with food and fresh wine. This went on for several days until the effects of his drunkenness wore off and fear returned. “Hey, innkeeper, where’s the wine?” he called from his table. But the old man asked, “Do you have any money left?” - “Yes, I still have my mother’s gold ring...” At this, the potter’s son fell silent. He suddenly remembered why he had come there and that the princess was waiting for him. Ashamed, he looked at the innkeeper and asked, “How do I get to the royal castle?” - “Are you completely mad?” he heard the reply. “That’s certain death for you! Many other heroes, battle-hardened knights, and renowned princes have attempted it and died in madness. Your eyes will be gouged out, your body smashed, and your heart ripped out. Make sure you find your way back through the swamp! Perhaps you can still escape.” - “No, I must get to the royal castle! How do I find it?” - “Well, if you’re so unflinching, then go! The way there is easy to find. In the middle of the swamp, where it gets darker and darker, stands the enchanted castle. Just keep going deeper and deeper into the darkness!”

Then the potter’s son rose, took his lantern, and left the inn. His head still ached from the wine, and his legs would hardly bear him. But he bravely trudged into the dark swamp on his path, which grew ever narrower. One wrong step, and he would have sunk into the black moor, as so many before him had. But he felt that the fox was now within him, showing the way. The darkness grew ever more terrifying, the swamp ever more ghostly, and night fell deep. His lantern shone only a short distance ahead, and bravely he whistled his songs to chase away his fear.

But suddenly the pipe fell silent, no sound came from the clay, and he stood before a great, dark gate. Hesitantly, he knocked, but each blow echoed like thunder. Then, as if by magic, the gate opened like the jaws of hell. What terror! His knees went weak, his senses faded, and the clay pipe was still silent. Then he remembered his father’s words, “The sound comes from your very breath, my son.” He took a deep breath and summoned all his courage. And then the sound rang out, clear and pure, like the first breath from his heart. The dark fear vanished, and the light of life returned to him. Courageously, he stepped through the gloomy gate, like a hero into battle.

Thus, he entered the enchanted royal castle in the deepest darkness, in the heart of the swamp. Only his small lantern illuminated the ancient walls and dark corridors. Then, suddenly, he saw a blue fire rushing toward him. First it appeared tiny at the end of a long corridor, then it grew larger and larger until it stood before him. It was a terrifying fire dragon, the likes of which he had never seen before.

The Dragon roared, reared up, and opened its enormous maw to devour the potter’s son. And yet it was no ordinary fire, for it burned willfully within itself, holding its own light fast, and the room around it remained dark. “Does it want to kill me?” thought the young man, and cried out, “No, I cannot die now. A dear soul awaits me!” At that very moment, the fiery maw lunged at him to swallow him whole. But what a miracle! The blue fire only devoured itself and vanished in a gigantic swirl of sparks. Wide-eyed, the potter’s son stood and marveled at the fireworks until they died down. The only thing the dragon could burn was the small lantern, so that he now stood in complete darkness. But the fox was still within him and spoke, “Congratulations, you have passed the test and defeated the willful, ego-dragon that separated you from your soul and brought death and destruction.”

The princess jumped awake. Her tent stood beside an old, tall linden tree, probably the only green tree left in the entire kingdom, for at its base she kept a small light. And every time a hero tried to enter the enchanted royal castle, it grew brighter, but always dimmed again as well. But now it shone brighter than ever before, and she knew that her beloved potter’s son had arrived. “I must help him!” she cried in alarm, slipped the mother’s ring onto her finger, swung herself onto her horse, and rode along the narrow path to the old royal castle.

Meanwhile, the potter’s son made his way slowly through the castle corridors until he stood in a room where a small, warm fire burned in the fireplace and a comfortable bed was visible. Utterly exhausted, he lay down on the soft pillows and fell asleep. His sleep was restless. He dreamed of his father in the old house, of the princess in the forest, of the inn in the swamp, and of the ravenous fire-breathing dragon in the castle. Around midnight, horrible noises awakened him. Startled, he jolted out from the dream, but wasn’t sure if it was just a dream. A woman’s voice called out, “Come to me! No one has ever made it this far. Now come to me, my son!” - “Mother?! Where are you?” he cried from the bottom of his heart. Then a woman with long hair and flowing robes appeared in the room and said, “Come to my kingdom, where there is nothing left for you to fear.” He looked into her eyes, but they were dark, cold, and shaded by frost.

A shiver ran down his spine, and he replied, “I cannot follow you into the darkness, for a dear soul awaits me in the light.” The frosty woman turned away, reappeared on the other side of the room, and said, “You cannot escape me, for you are bound until you solve the riddle of all riddles. Try! If you succeed, I will set you free. If not, you must follow me. Listen:

He who makes it does not want it;
He who carries it does not keep it;
He who buys it does not need it;
He who has it does not know it.”

The potter’s son pondered this and that, but he couldn’t fathom the riddle with his thoughts. Whatever he came up with only partially fit. Discouraged, he gave up thinking and saw only the beautiful princess before him, his beloved soul, who trusted him and would surely help if she could. Then, suddenly, a light dawned within him. From the deepest intuition, the primal source of all knowledge, came the answer, and he spoke: “You didn’t invent this riddle yourself! It’s an old, hard nut to crack. At first, I thought you meant life, but then I realized you meant the coffin. For the carpenter doesn’t want it, the pallbearer doesn’t keep it, the deceased’s relatives buy it but don’t need it, and the deceased doesn’t know that he lies in the coffin.” At that, the woman’s face contorted into a terrible grimace, a dreadful thunderclap rolled through the castle, and she cried out in a deep, male voice, filled with anger, “You’ve guessed it!” As if the woman with the frosty eyes wanted to be an emancipated version of nature. But she had no spirit that brought life; instead, she was a dead ghost and a figment of her own imagination, which vanished in the very instant. Astonished, the young hero looked around and thought, “What was that? Where did she go?” Then the fox within him rejoiced and exclaimed, “Wonderful! You have conquered the cobwebs of limited thought and gained boundless intuition!” With these words, he felt himself being pulled upwards, through the ceiling of the narrow chamber into a vast hall where mirrors stood everywhere.

By now, the princess had reached the dark castle on her horse and stood before the great gate. But no matter how often she knocked and pleaded for entry, the gate remained firmly shut. She knocked for a long time until she sank exhausted to the ground. But in a steadfast voice, she cried out, “Hold on, my love! I will always be with you.”

The potter’s son then awoke in the middle of a hall of mirrors. Wherever he looked, he saw himself, distorted to a greater or lesser degree in thousands of forms. The mirrors spoke to him:

“You must look into the mirror.
There is no escape between them all.
In the mirror lies horror.
Come in and see it from within!”

But he didn’t go in; instead, he turned away wherever he could. Then the mirror’s voice laughed and called out: “Come to me, and overcome your fear!” - “What am I supposed to do in a dead mirror?” he asked. “A living soul awaits me out there.” - “Oh, forget her!” - “I can’t. My heart beats only for her. I love her...” Then a terrible scream pierced the hall, followed by deathly silence. His heart stopped, and slowly he sank to the floor.

“Between mirrors you must tremble,
glasses without space and time.
You are imprisoned in fear,
mute for all eternity.”

Only the last words still echoed within him: “Mute... Mute for all eternity...” - “Never! My heart will always beat for my beloved soul!” He drew in all his remaining breath, grasped his clay pipe with his last strength, and blew into it from the depths of his heart. A long, bright tone resounded through the vast hall, and a miracle occurred: his heart came back to life. The mirrors lost their luster, cracked, and shattered into a million tiny shards that burned like sparks of fire. But behind the mirrors, a pure light burst forth with unimaginable power. The entire room was filled with vibrant light, and the cold, lifeless darkness vanished like mist in the morning sun. The spell was broken, the nightmare defeated. Now he could see to the very depths of the royal castle. There he saw an unimaginable treasure of radiant, pure gold, hidden in the darkness by generations of wealthy kings, where it had lain useless to humankind for so long. At this sight, the fox within him smiled, for his goal had been achieved, his purpose fulfilled. And above the castle, the clear sky opened, so that it reappeared in all its glorious splendor. The warm summer sun shone over the vast kingdom. The dark swamp vanished as if by magic, clear rivers flowed peacefully through the land, the trees were green again, and the fertile fields blossomed in the sunlight. Everything breathed the fragrance of life, and all hearts grew bright and joyful.

The potter’s son opened the castle gate and saw the princess standing before him. Overwhelmed with happiness and love, they fell into each other’s arms, as if they were of one mind. Now they would never part again, for in truth, they always belonged together. Thus, together they found true love in this world and forgot all fear, for true love knows no fear, no separation, and no loss. It is unconditional and omnipresent, like pure light. Overjoyed, he saw his mother’s golden ring on her finger, and together they rode on her faithful horse to the king’s tent city. The king received them with great joy, embraced them both warmly, and congratulated his future son-in-law on his great victory, “You have conquered the darkness and freed the light. Now the mother can live again, the sun can shine into hearts, and fertile nature can blossom.” With great joy, the entire court entered the liberated royal castle, and everyone began to prepare for the wedding. The potter’s father was also brought from his small, old house to the grand castle. There, he was overjoyed to see his son again and embraced the princess like a daughter. The king and the potter got along splendidly, and a spacious pottery workshop with many diligent fellows was set up for him in the castle. When everything was prepared, the grand wedding was celebrated. The potter provided the most beautiful bowls, plates, and cups for the richly decorated wedding table, and the king provided the finest food and most distinguished guests. Several happy years passed. In the royal pottery, many more clay pipes were formed and given to those anxiously seeking them. And the old king ruled a happy kingdom with far-sighted wisdom. When the time was right, the young couple had first a son and then a daughter, who grew up surrounded by their mother’s and father’s love. Soon after, the old king retired and passed the crown to the potter’s son, who, together with his queen, became a good and wise king and ruled a peaceful kingdom with reason and love for many years to come. For he who is without fear will not become a tyrant. And if they haven’t died, they still live on as one heart and one soul…

Our inspiration for this fairy tale text comes from the Germain fairy tale film “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn Fear” (“Von einem der auszog, das Fürchten zu lernen”), produced for ARD in 2014. We find the film generally successful and would like to express our sincere thanks to the film team! The emancipated princess may be a bit exaggerated, but it seems no film can get aired on public television these days without such political clichés. The theme of “fear” is, of course, still highly relevant today. We have already considered the question of how one can learn to be afraid in detail in our interpretation of the Grimm fairy tale. Now, the question that seems far more important to us is: How can one unlearn fear?

We found profound aspects in the fairy tale film and retold them from a slightly different perspective. We’ve chosen to forgo a detailed interpretation of the fairy tale text, as we’ve tried to address the spiritual background of the many symbols as much as possible within the story itself. In short: We can find the dead mother reflected in our materialistic “natural science,” which denies the spirit that brings everything to life. We find the swamp and the inn in our “economic politics”, which denies the reason that should prevail in the human realm. And the narrow potter’s house and magnificent royal castle are reminiscent of our bodies, where the webs of ghost’s dwell, the deadly ego-dragon resides, and anxiety and depression have become widespread. Perhaps one day we will rediscover true love, without confusing it with lust and hatred, and thus be able to unlearn fear.

“For just as the nature of fear in darkness is a cause of sadness, so in light it is a cause of uplifting and invigorating joy.” (Jacob Boehme, On the New Rebirth, 1.18)

For further illustration, we recommend the German fairy tale film, which is available in the ARD Mediathek (ARD Media Library) until August 9, 2030.

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• ... Table of contents of all fairy tale interpretations ...
• The old witch - (topic: true Love and Reason)
• The Jew among Thorns - (topic: Reason and Mind)
• The Princess and the blind Blacksmith - (topic: Christmas)
• The Hare and the Hedgehog - (topic: I’m already here)
• Hans my Hedgehog - (topic: Reason and Nature)
• The Simpleton - (topic: Nature of the sea)
• The Water-Nix - (topic: Source and River)
• The Nix of the Mill-Pond - (topic: Water-being)
• The Little Mermaid Undine - (topic: Wave dance)
• Knight Peter and the Sea Fairy - (topic: Knight-love)
• From one who set out to unlearn fear (topic: darkness and fear)

Sayings and text inspiration: Von einem, der auszog, das Fürchten zu lernen, 2014, ARD/Kika [2025] Pictures (AI-supported) and Text by Undine & Jens / www.pushpak.de