Walking In Two Worlds Essay #5: Allies & Synchronicity: Help from the Seen and Unseen

September 20th, 2012

This blog post is an essay that forms part of the material in a Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds.

Ally – defined - a person that cooperates with or helps another in a particular activity.

Synchronicitydefined – the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.

The Mystery of Commitment

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.  Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.  A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

Whatever you can do,
Or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius,
Power and magic in it.

– Goethe

When one is able to make a wholehearted commitment to one’s soul journey, as the most essential and heroic task one has for their lifetime, then something mysterious and profound begins to take place.   Goethe was a late 18th century German writer, artist, biologist, and theoretical physicist, whose expertise and influence spanned a great many subject areas.  He expresses his wisdom in the passage above.

The moment one commits one’s self, then Providence moves too. When our heart’s desire acts in alignment with God’s will, our authentic lives begin to be supported both from within and from without.  We have a sense of being provided for; as well being able to provide what is needed for ourselves.  We have a sense of resourcefulness.

Joseph Campbell said that we have to just take that one step towards the gods, and they take ten steps towards us.  The unseen world needs our embodied actions, on behalf of the highest good of life, and so cooperates with our actions, when they are in service of this aim.

So a basic truth is this:  when we step forward with wholehearted intent towards our soul’s deepest calling, things get moving.   Goethe and Campbell reference this from an action-based, masculine, yang energy perspective.  We take that decisive step forward, extending ourselves beyond the familiar and into the unknown, and we find that the universe is also extending itself towards us.  We go forth, propelled outward – towards the world, and we trust the process of life to support us as we do.

There is also another level of commitment that needs to take place, which may be less obvious – but no less challenging.   It is an inward step, a deep surrendering within to what will come.  It is an inner undoing, as opposed to the outer doing, of the hero.   Here is Rumi, describes this deep level of letting go, so that we can learn to let Providence come to us:

Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.

Rumi encourages us to enter this state of being positively, letting go completely of our individual will long enough, and fully enough, for grace to enter us and carry us forward.    This is a deep level of surrender that we are usually reluctant to enter; thus we only find our way here in extreme ordeals or circumstances.

We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.

Again, more honesty, humility, and surrender is required.  Being lost, undone, we have no perspective or vision, like the mouse.  Admitting we can’t sense the beauty of divine grace and Providence even as it approaches us.   But once it is very close to us, if we don’t see it, or say ‘No’ to the possibility of grace coming to us, we are beheaded – locked up in our heads, ensnared in hostile projections and judging states, and cut off from our hearts.   This indeed shuts tight the window the opens us to spirit.

So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.

In the authenticity of deep inner surrender, the ego is certain of nothing; the will is surrendered to whatever comes.  We can be sure only of our own embodied presence, in whatever state we are in, and of our vulnerable, willing heart.   This is the very condition that brings forth the compassionate minds and able bodies of allies.  This also elicits the same merciful (and often intriguing) response from the unseen world of spirit, surprising us with synchronistic happenings from beyond.

At our deepest surrender point, we can finally open ourselves to the help that wants to come, and open ourselves to be led and guided, balancing against the ways we must courageously step forward and make our own way.  As Rumi says, when we have totally surrendered to that beauty, we shall become a mighty kindness.  These are beautifully balanced words – mighty – present with all our might, strong and full, and yet kind – gentle, tender and nurturing.   Here, we become an embodiment of the zeal of eternity for a full and meaningful incarnation in space and time.

Allies

“You know, the jackass doesn’t have much sensibility.
But even he gains spirit from the company of his own kind.
But when the jackass crosses the desert alone,
how many more blows it takes to get him there.
Now, this is what this poem says to you:
If you’re not a jackass, don’t cross the desert alone!”

- Rumi

An ally, from our mythic journeying perspective, is a particular kind of helper.

He or she is one that is capable of being in it with us.  They are the ones who can stand beside us, as they have the knowledge of similarly lived-through experiences.  They are the ones who are able to understand the richness and the complexity of the mythic adventure.

An Ally is also someone who is able to have a differing perspective from our own, which we will need as we journey through life.   They are individuated people, clearly differentiated from us, yet also identified with us, and with our journeying ways.

Here is another essential task for the hero, the task of discernment, as he or she embraces their way of mythic adventure.  One must be able to learn the difference between doing things FOR one’s self, and doing things BY one’s self.   Many of us assume these two matters to be the same.  Of course, it is of the utmost importance, if one is to become the hero of one’s own life, that one act wholeheartedly on behalf of those matters, which bring one towards being fully alive.   No one else can do that for us.

Yet we can’t afford to confuse this vital way of living with selfishness, because it is in fact the very opposite of self-centered ways.   The meaning and vitality the hero receives by being true to their own path is precisely what is needed, so that he or she has what it takes to be able to give of their aliveness to others.  This is what true service is about, which goes beyond the charity of one’s actions.

However, it is foolish and prideful to think that one can make one’s way solely on one’s own.  We all need helpers.  Many of us have justifiable reasons why we resist or refuse help from others.   Most of this reasoning is a defense against the vulnerability of opening, and learning to accept that powers greater than ourselves can lead us, restore us, and ultimately, transform us.

When I undertook the painstaking ordeal of intensive studying for my state’s psychology licensing exam, while also having a full-time psychotherapy practice, I began asking for help wherever I could get it.   My mother, sister and close friends provided me with meals; I didn’t have to cook for myself even once in the four months of studying.   People took care of mundane details for me.   Friends ran my errands, family helped out with caring for my daughter.  I went to New York City to take a prep course, a kind of help I typically would have viewed as unnecessary.  I had numerous people tell me they were praying for my success.   I was provided a suite in a religious convent, where I studied for long periods of time with no distractions.   I was deeply moved by these constant gestures, and I am once again, as I recall them.

Over the four-month period, an inner transformation began to take place: I no longer resisted certain topics I had dreaded, like inferential statistics; I actually took up an interest in learning them.  I followed the advice of the prep course, and took regularly scheduled mini-tests.   A sustained focus and intensity developed; I began to get energy from my effort.  One day I became aware that my old fear of failing had fallen away.  Passing or failing the examination no longer defined me.  The fear was simply not there – it was somehow gone, faded into the background of something larger.

One day it struck me that I had already passed the real test – the one of self-acceptance, no matter the outcome.  I was deeply contented by the realization that I had allies who could rally in a big and extended way for me when I needed them.   Passing the licensing exam took on this new and larger perspective, and I relaxed.  There was no more dread of failing, and having to do it all over again.  I was no longer concerned about taking the exam, or receiving the results.  If I had to choose between my allies and a license, there was no question which one meant more to me.   In the end, I happened to pass the exam, but more importantly, it was more a celebration of how much I was cared for, which mattered much more to me that my own performance.

Synchronicity

“Synchronicity as a term explains nothing, it simply formulates the occurrence of meaningful coincidences which, in themselves, are chance happenings, but are so improbable that we must assume them to be based on some kind of principle, or one some property of the empirical world.”

- Carl Jung

Synchronicity is that unignorable thing that rivets our attention in the present moment. It brings something that was deep in the background of our awareness suddenly to the foreground.  It is an indicator that something wants us to be paying attention, and that mysterious forces are at play.  This feeds our sense of adventure, provides us with a moment of ‘swing’, one that can propel us forth on our journey.  It is something that has an intangible origin point, coming that other world, and brings something forward in this world for us to glimpse, as a kind of guidepost.   Synchronistic happenings are like sudden turns in the road; they can change the focus and direction of our journey in an instant.

To summarize, synchronicity is that which both captures our attention, and also causes us to pay more attention to an unseen track that is there, waiting for us.   Synchronicity helps support one of the primary functions of myth, which is to pull us forward in life, and onto that very track that is meant for us.   Joseph Campbell emphasized this dynamic repeatedly in his teaching:

If you do follow your bliss,
you put yourself on a kind of track
that has been there all the while waiting for you,
and the life you ought to be living
is the one you are living.

When you can see that,
you begin to meet people
who are in the field of your bliss,
and they open the doors to you.

I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid,
and doors will open
where you didn’t know they were going to be.
If you follow your bliss,
doors will open for you
that wouldn’t have opened for anyone else

- Joseph Campbell


Redefining Heroism: To Be in Alliance with One’s Highest and Best Self

Each man had only one genuine vocation – to find the way to himself…His task was to discover his own destiny – not an arbitrary one – and live it out wholly and resolutely within himself.  Everything else was only a would-be existence, an attempt at evasion, a flight back to the ideals of the masses, conformity and fear of one’s own inwardness.

- Herman Hesse, Demian

In the Implicate Order, the totality of existence is enfolded within each ‘fragment’ of space and time – whether it be a single object, thought or event.  Thus everything in the universe affects everything else because they are all part of the same unbroken whole.

- David Bohm

Ultimately, synchronicity helps to guide us towards an alignment with our highest and best purpose in life.  We learn to say “YES” to our own largeness, our own potential, and to line up wholeheartedly with this aim.  It is an alignment with our full commitment to the journey that is meant only for us, and to the one journey that will take us, and pull us forward.  This is an essential and consciously repeated internal action step that must be undertaken by anyone who seeks to be the hero of their own life.  Here is a prayer for

“On my own mythic adventure, let the exact circumstances and opportunities come to me that will inevitably bring forth the highest and best self within me.”

“All of us, whether or not we are warriors, have a cubic centimeter of chance that pops out in front of our eyes from time to time.  The difference between an average man and a warrior is that the warrior is aware of this, and one of his tasks is to be alert, deliberately waiting, so that when his cubic centimeter pops out he has the necessary speed, the prowess, to pick it up.”

-       Carlos Castenada

Just go with it. You cannot be fixed in how you’re going about it any more that you would be fixed if you were setting about to paint a great work of art.  Be alert; be self-aware, so that when opportunity presents itself, you can actually rise to it.

-       David Bohm

When we are open to being helped by people that matter to us, and when we can feel carried by unseen forces, we enter into the way of beauty.   Our willingness to be in alliance with others provides us with a sense of being intimately loved and cared for through meaningful companioning.

Accompanied by journey companions, and deeply struck from time to time by uncanny and improbable occurrences, we begin to cultivate the ‘extra-ordinary attention of the spirit-warrior’, as described by Carlos Castenada.  We are on alert, being self-aware, so that when opportunity presents itself, and our ‘cubic centimeter of chance’ appears in front of our eyes, we are ready for it, and can act decisively.

As we prepare to face adventures and confront ordeals, the heroic aspect of our nature must practice two things: active waiting and decisive acting.   When we learn to wait with alert attention, with one foot in the world of daily routine, and one foot in the realm of mystery and adventure, we must be ready and be patient.  We are patient because in our hearts we know that it is inevitable that the gods will give us chances.  Our unique opportunity to step towards largeness will come.

And when it comes, we must be able to act decisively.  To say yes to the adventure, and accept that it will turn into an ordeal at some moment.  And in that moment of challenge, when we find our authentic and vital response to the ordeal, we have become contributors to living.  This is modern day heroism, and we are all called to play the part we were born for, no matter how we’ve played it to date.  Today could be the day your window of opportunity opens.   Or perhaps tomorrow.

Remember, that which you are seeking, is also seeking you.

- Michael Mervosh

Walking In Two Worlds Essay #9: The Return Home- Bringing Home The Boon

August 16th, 2012

Boon – a symbol of life force energy, geared to the needs and requirements of the one on whom it is bestowed.  The ‘pearl beyond all price’.

Return – to turn one’s attention back to (something); a feeling of coming back or recurring after a period of absence; to feel, say or do in response to (something).

The hero returns, born again, and must survive the impact of the world.


“In loving the spiritual,
you cannot despise the earthly.
The purpose of the journey is compassion.
When you have come past the pairs of opposites,
you have reached compassion.
The goal is to bring the jewel back to the world,
to join the two things together.
We are not there until we
can say “yea” to it all.”
-       Joseph Campbell

When the hero-quest has been accomplished…
the adventurer must return with their life –transmuting trophy.
The full round, the norm of the monomyth,
requires that the hero shall now begin the labor
of bringing the runes of wisdom, the Golden Fleece,
or the sleeping princess back into the kingdom of humanity,
where the boon may redound to the renewing of the community,
the nation, the planet, or the ten thousand worlds.
But the responsibility is frequently refused.

-       Joseph Campbell


We have all experienced moments of bliss; we all have had mystical, magical encounters with nature, with our lovers, and with the seen and unseen forces of the universe.  These moments live outside of time.  They enrapture us and capture us; they fill us with wonder and awe.  Moments of mystery and soul connection that transport us, move us, inspire us.  They unmistakably connect us to something larger than and beyond our known selves.

We can’t make these experiences happen, even though we can seek them out.   We can create and enter the necessary conditions within which they may occur.  When these moments outside of time do happen, we are surprised, over and over again; we are filled with grace and gratitude.

In order to allow this mystical enchantment to take place in our hearts, we must surrender control, open, and say yes to what comes.  Our spiritual center of gravity turns towards the unknown, and the unknowable.   We enter the realm of mystery, we feel carried by a spirit of adventure.  We cannot know the outcome of our endeavors in advance, nor can we attach ourselves to these outcomes.

As we take an authentic soul journey, we experience success and failure, and we learn and grow from both.  This is especially true of our failures.  We enter the light and we enter the darkness, and when the adventure goes well, we find the unifying life force energies in between and beyond each of these polarities.

When we journey in this way, we enter the reality of mythic adventures and ordeals.   Through these experiences, we are destined to feel our lives being pulled downward and inward, then forward and outward yet again, like Jonah from the belly of the whale.

Ultimately, by going through these mythic encounters that move us beyond space and time, we discover something about how the ‘zeal of eternity’ wishes to embody us, and express itself through our unique personality and circumstance.  This is the discovery of the boon, the vital and meaningful inner life, which awaits us at the core of our very being.

Then we must return, once again, to that which was at once familiar, and perhaps now foreboding.   We must find our way home again.

Crossing the Return Threshold

The first problem of the returning hero
is to accept as real, after an experience
of the soul-satisfying vision of fulfillment,
the passing joys and sorrows,
banalities and noisy obscenities of life.
Why re-enter such a world?
-       Joseph Campbell

Those of us who have had the experience of life a giving, mystical ‘other-worldly’ encounter can certainly relate to the disenchanting aspect of returning to what we would rather eliminate or leave behind in our lives – crowded airports, heavy traffic congestion, standing in lines, stacks of (e)mail, un-stocked refrigerators, hassled and stressed family members.  We inevitably feel again the confining nature of everyday life inside of four walls.  We feel bound by the routine obligations we have undertaken within the culture we inhabit, and know so well.

As we re-enter the dense and demanding atmosphere of daily life, the beauty, mystery and eloquence of the timeless, mythic realm can feel far away in a hurry.  Experiences that were momentous just a few days ago can now seem silly or irrelevant in the midst of the day’s normal routines.

We may feel ourselves wanting to turn away from the return back to earthly life.   The appeal and lure of the mythic adventure pulls us back.   We avoid grounding ourselves back into our familiar physical locations in space and time.   We can immediately begin to abandon the fulfillment and the promise of mythic adventure, losing faith that it will now begin to arise from within the midst of daily life, and that it can bring forth new love where we are presently planted.

For many of us, as we return home, we may feel out of place in our old worlds, in the same ways we might have felt initially lost or uncertain in the mythic adventure.

We can feel lost in the cement jungles and rectangular forests of urban landscapes.   As we re-enter the selves we have been in these worlds, it can feel as if the clothes we once wore no longer fit us, and we don’t yet know what else to wear, or what our new size is.  It is to be expected that we will feel ‘out of place’ in places that once suited us very well.

Joseph Campbell tells us very clearly that the problem we face is to maintain one’s sense of the eternal in the face of immediate earthly pain or joy.  The pull towards temporal life, and the fruits of this world, draws our attention and focus away from the new spiritual center we have discovered, as part of our boon.   We can be pulled instead, sometimes as strongly as ever, towards the more peripheral crises and dramas of the current circumstance or moment, and become re-absorbed in them.

This is where the hero will fall or fail, losing sight of the boon of new spiritual awakening and awareness.   We need some kind of spiritual insulation to keep the seeds of the boon nourished, and to keep remembering ourselves to the newly forming identity.  And we must also re-define what ‘home’ is to us, and where that is located within us.

Redefining Our True Home

The sense of ‘home’ we all know and learn to cherish is a place of shelter, nourishment, safety and warmth.   It is being contained in a desired and familiar way, known deep in the bones of our being, deep in the heart of what we know best.  We are wanders, seekers, and journeyers, who also long for home.

As part of our return, we are called to re-examine and re-define the difference between one’s house and one’s home.   What is the difference is between a physical shelter and a storage unit for our possessions, and that sense of space and place where we bring our hearts, minds and bodies for rest, refuge and sustenance.

We tend to feel at home in places and spaces where we can feel most like our real or true selves.  This is not necessary a physical location, though it often involves a relationship to a particular exterior space.   For instance, I feel deeply at home in various mountain terrains, for reasons I cannot rationally explain.   Yet I also feel at home, to this very day, as an urban city dweller, especially at night, and especially when I am in the south side of the city in which I was born and raised.

I also feel bucolic sense of home in the realm of various forest regions: the green fields and open skies of rural environments, ancient and soulful, unconcerned with modern technological progress and aspiration.  From time to time, I feel a somewhat melancholic pull to reside in the midst of nature’s sounds, smells and visual delights, a certain kind of timeless, country comfort.

In another sense, I feel at home among the company of family members in one way, and at home in a very different way when I am among the adventurous soul journeyers who have become kindred companions to me.

We all need some anchoring, some actualized sense of place, where we can rest in ourselves, and prepare ourselves for future adventures and meaningful experiences.

Where do you feel most at home?  With whom do you feel most at home?  What reflecting mirrors do you need; where do you long to be most; what best reveals to you a sense of ‘at-home-ness’ within yourself?

From the opposing perspective – where does the wanderlust in you live?  Where are you restless and ever-on-the-move?   Where are you not yet at home?


Remembering the Boon

One of the fundamental tasks for the returning hero is remembering.  One must be willing and able to ‘re-member’ to one’s self forgotten, lost, unknown or disowned aspects of one’s eternal soul nature.  The purpose of the heroic journey is to re-connect with and re-member to an essential soul calling: a talent, a capacity, a certain something that has risen to the surface from within, that has come into awareness from the deep wellspring of one’s eternal being.

These often come forth as a result of the adventures and ordeals we undertake.  They create the exact circumstances and conditions needed to elicit the vital and re-creative life force energies from within us that reveal to us the boon – the deep knowing of one’s soul gift to the world.

Once we achieve this discovery of the boon in the mythic realm of adventure, this self-revelation can be easily lost to us as we return home.  We become vulnerable to one of two fundamental ways of failure as we attempt to bring back our boon.

One way we fail in our return home is by over-attaching to what we have discovered.  In the Buddhist tradition, the problem would be termed as one of ‘grasping’.   We cling to what feels important to us; we attach a kind of ‘specialness’ to it.  This kind of ‘preciousness’ begins to cause us to narrow and control the flow of vital energies within.  We become willful, and want to lock ourselves into a path that becomes confining by taking our gift too literally, too specifically, or too preciously.

I remember a council sharing that took place among our Hero’s Journey stewards a good number of years ago.   As part of our annual week long Journey Intensive, those who are the stewards and keepers of our Journey ways create a Spirit Fire.  A Spirit Fire is a ritual fire that burns continuously throughout the life cycle of the Journey – from the time of the journeyer’s first arrival at our base camp, to the final departure from our community space.  It is a living symbol of the Spirit, which flows within each of us, and also of the Great Spirit of life, from which we all have come, and to which we are all connected.   All of the stewards see to it that this fire is kept burning, day and night.

The teaching is that we all must learn to tend to our inner fires, and keep them burning, through the joys and sorrows of our life.

In our opening talking stick council one year, one of our men shared how the year before, he felt that it was important to him to light a particular votive candle for himself from the week long Spirit Fire, and carry that lit fire home with him, in order to keep his own inner fire burning.   He thus indeed light his own flame candle, and kept it close to him, carefully protecting it from the element of wind, throughout all of his preparations to return home.

This became his primary focus as he departed the mountain in his vehicle.  Yet by the time he came to the end of the six-mile descent from our base camp, the flame had somehow become extinguished.   He felt defeated, and was despairing about how quickly the flame can go out.

Slowly something new came to light in him – the light of awareness.  He came to realize that he must let go of the experience he just had, and stop clinging to it.  He had to allow the fire to go deeper within himself, beyond what he could see, and just let it come alive through him, when it was needed.   He had to become the light, when the light was necessary.

This was a far bigger challenge than keeping a literal candle flame burning, but also more vital, and more meaningful.  Moving from a literal and specific ego attachment to the outcome of our vision, and to move deeper towards the realization of the spiritual fire that burns in the interior space of our being, is a necessary step towards the integration of the soul’s gift within the self.

Another way we fail to remember the boon is precisely the opposite difficulty.  We fail to take hold of what is truly ours, and ours alone, to take.  We fail to actualize our unique soul gifts.  We sometimes do not make enough insular time to go through the necessary thresholds of the journey back to home.  Thus, we more quickly feel lost or disoriented once more, and are easily pulled into old and familiar wounds, distractions or dramas.  We feel empty, and old feelings of inadequacy or uselessness surface yet again.

Here, significant faith is required of us in order to let go of everything that is non-essential in our lives for a certain period of time, in order to take hold of what is most essential for a period of time.   We must return home to the depths of our own heart spaces, wander around or simply rest in there for a while, and wait without any demand or expectation for some days, and trust that that which is most essential is coming together inside of us, in new and surprising ways.   On the return home, this is our true ‘leap of faith’.

Many of us lack this kind of faith, this kind of patience, this ability to wait and let the seeds of new life take root with us.  Many of us fail to make this type of fertile inner space, one that allows for an integration process to take place in its own time.  We are challenged to practice self-nurturance, nurturing the seeds of something worthwhile, and uniquely our own, little by little, until the time is right to take new heroic action.

Cauldron of changes, blossoms from bone.
Arc of eternity, a hole in the stone.
We are an old people,
We are a new people,
We are the same people,
Deeper than before.
- A song from the Hero’s Journey tradition

I have recently returned home from another summer men’s journey in the mountains of West Virginia.  It was a satisfying and exhausting experience of communal wilderness living, in service of bringing forth what is most essential in each of the men who were undertaking their own journeys.   We had 60 men from across the Americas and Europe who found their own rich inner sources of meaning and vitality.  From this time and way, I feel well spent.

It is now one week later, and I have been waiting for the past two days for my own personal integration time to begin taking root.  I have had the opportunity for aloneness and silence.  I have had a birthday celebration and family time, social and musical time with friends.  I have had time alone in the woods with my horse.  I have spent time gardening, doing simple chores, and yard work.

Waiting for something, and for no thing.  Waiting in the space of ‘no-thing-ness’ – no particular thing of significance yet.  This phase of the journey usually feels both timeless and endless to me.  Like I have been here before, and have to be here again, for a long time.

This morning, it has been more of the same.  Now the rains have come.  Somehow this was the essential ingredient for my integration, at last.  I feel nurtured by the rain today, like I am a seed being watered.  I am able to let go of my expectations for myself.  I let go of the day’s demands, and I just feel the grey, cool, moist air.

It is now that I am also able to drink in a particular soul gift reflection I received via email yesterday. It was from a dear man on this past Hero’s Journey.  He offered me a reflection of who I am in his eyes.  It is one that feels most vital to take to heart.  His Gratitude rains down onto me today, and I feel able to become deeply absorbed in his reflections.  I am opening to who I am, and I soaking it in like a sponge, undistracted for a timeless moment.

Today, I am remembering.   I am laying more of claim of my gift of being a ‘Herald’.  I am an ‘Awakener’- someone who can call out in an impassioned and embodied way to others. I can gather people together, and create a space for something meaningful and lasting to happen.

At last, it is more than just a thought, more than just a feeling.  It is a new kind of knowing, born from the not-knowing space.  Something in me knows this aspect of myself to be true beyond any specific fact or particular event, beyond anything I could describe or explain.  Like myths, it is truer than just a fact or an event.

This truth is coming together inside of me, once again, renewed, today.  This soul presence just echoes within me – just ‘is’ – once again.  Thank you, dear Journey friend, for sending your message my way at just the right time, for it has opened this seed within my being.

I do not know where this ‘zeal of eternity’ will lead me from here.  And it doesn’t feel necessary to know.  It just feels important that I know that it is alive within me, right now, in a new way.

I can reflect on and embody further what personal meaning this particular life energy and awareness holds for me.  I can write from here, I can sing from here, I can gather others to here.  I can speak out what I know to be true in my heart.  That feels like enough for me, something worth living more deeply into in the days ahead.

I know that I will get lost again in technology hell, in petty concerns, and in fretting over whatever immediate issue or personal angst happens next.   But today I am taking hold of the archetype of the Herald, that which wants to live in me again, and express itself through me.  I choose to say ‘Yes’ to this eternal presence.  So, today I say ‘Yes”.  Tomorrow, we’ll see.

Bringing Forth the Gift

“If you bring forth what is within you,
what you bring forth will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you,
what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

-
Gospel of Thomas

The work of representing eternity in time,
and perceiving eternity in time, cannot be avoided.”
- Joseph Campbell

Once we lay claim to what is truly ours, and know it to be true within the very depths of our hearts, then we will need to further cross the threshold into daily life.   We do this by bringing forth our particular soul gifts, and offering them to the world.

We will have to take action.

We move from the downward and inward movement of soul awakening and soul cultivation, and shift towards a new direction, coming upward and outward towards self-expression, towards manifestation, towards definitive action.  Life moving forward, making our own way, as only we can, as we go – the way of mythic adventure!

This is no easy or simple task.  You may have noticed by now that the world is not sitting around waiting for us to make an essential self-discovery, and shout it out.  It is not asking us to pour our talents and gifts out into the waiting arms and needs of the world.   We have work to do.  We have to create the pathways for that work to flow outward.  We must learn to find those soulful places where timelessness and time meet, when our ‘deep gladness meets the deep need of the world’, as Frederick Buechner says.

So, today, I call out to each of us, that it is time to Return Home.  Is it time to return home to our true nature, to spend time with like-minded and kindred spirits.  To rest until we settle into what is truly ours, and ours alone, and feel that energy come alive within us.

And when the time is right, express ourselves from that unique place.  Take a risk, take an authentic and heroic act, and bring it forth in this hungry and needy world.

It is up to us.

- Michael Mervosh

“What I think is a good life is one hero journey after another.
Over and over again, you are called to the realm of adventure, you are
called to new horizons. Each time, there is the same problem: do I dare?
And then if you do dare, the dangers are there, and the help also,
and the fulfillment or the fiasco.
There’s always the possibility of a fiasco.
But there’s also the possibility of bliss.”
- Joseph Campbell

Walking In Two Worlds Essay # 8: The Discovery of the Boon: As We Walk in Two Worlds; the Two Become One

July 27th, 2012

Boon defined – a symbol of life force energy, geared to the needs and requirements of the one on whom it is bestowed.  The obtainment of the ‘pearl beyond all price’.

The hero moves beyond the world of opposites,
And discovers the vital life within, rooted in eternity.


The hero whose attachment to ego is already annihilate passes back and forth across the horizons of the world, in and out of the dragon, as readily as a king through all the rooms of his house.   Therein lies his power to save; for his passing and returning demonstrate that through all the contraries of phenomenality the Uncreate-Imperishable remains, and there is nothing to fear.

-       Joseph Campbell


Out beyond the ideas
Of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
The world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
“each other” doesn’t make sense anymore.

- Rumi

What does it mean to let go of attachment to an outcome?   What happens when we move beyond our grasping onto right and wrong, good and bad?   What allows us to enter that space that Joseph Campbell refers to as ‘moving beyond the pairs of opposites’?

On one hand, this requires moving beyond the way we cling a sense of personal or moral righteousness, which carries a sense of superiority or indignation.  From this vantage point, we view deficits and flaws as being external, as being in the realm of the ‘other’, or in the society.  Our wish is to rise above or distance ourselves from the deficit or the plight we perceive in the other.

On the other hand, it also requires a moving beyond an immobilizing sense of inadequacy, shame or ‘badness’; beyond the heavy burden and deadening weight of guilt that we carry for the mistakes we have inevitably made.  From this perspective, the deficit is experienced as internal, as residing deep within the core of the self.  We feel unworthy, helpless, damned.

This moving beyond the pairs of opposites is not easy to do.   This is the liberating realm of consciousness is that often sought after and strived for, but it is not easily attained, and it is certainly difficult to remain anchored and centered within this boon.

This is why many of us must first enter ‘the belly of the beast’ phase of the journey. There, the challenging conditions and the trying circumstances provide us with an ordeal that we not only must learn to say ‘yes’ to, but also must give ourselves over to, with a wholehearted surrender.  It creates the pre-condition for the boon, and can undo our sense of unworthiness and helplessness.   But this feels like being swallowed by a whale, and entering into its belly feels like impending and certain death.

These days, life rarely feels simple, and it often feels unmanageable, especially without a spiritual foundation rooted in meaningful relationship to what is eternal.  The flourishing capacity of our global media keeps us in constant contact with the state of conflict playing out on the world’s stage: whether it be through the violent or oppressive political climates in Syria, Iran, or Egypt; the economic frailty playing out in Europe, or the chronic maelstrom of war that fuels the inevitable starvation epidemics in many parts of Africa.  We also have to contend with growing concerns about the sustainability of our global environment, as our populations continue to grow, and consume valuable and finite resources at an alarming rate.

Closer to home in the United States, we have our own taxed two-party political landscape, governed by severe bipartisanship; the ongoing revelations of sexual abuse of minors by those in positions of trust and regard in our religious institutions and sports worlds; and we have our own troublesome concerns about our country’s economic stagnation and urban deterioration.

How do we learn to walk in two worlds – the world of daily life which contends with socio-economic and political concerns, as well as the personal concerns of our own significant relationships, our own families, and our own hearts – and the world of mythic adventure, and the mystery of what is infinite, where we learn to see that these troubling social conditions create the particular circumstances needed to bring forth something unrealized from within our own individual souls, something that has its roots in that which is wonder-filled and everlasting?

This is the hero’s journey for our modern times; this is the ancient wisdom path to be taken up by those of us currently involved in our technologically advanced, economically stressed and environmentally distressed daily lives.   Who can afford to make the time and space necessary in order to look inward, in the midst of such busy and demanding days?

And yet, who can afford not to?

Let’s look how these very dynamics are perhaps playing out right now, in your own life.

Let’s stop for just this one moment, and slow ourselves down.  Let’s keep it simple. Now pay attention to what, if any, troubling thoughts come to mind, when we are attentive enough to notice.  Pay attention to the precise matters of concern that come forward.  What specific fears, upsets or anxieties rise up?   Are they economic in nature?   Are they related to your social world?  Your interior world?  Your physical, mental, or emotional well-being?  Do you feel isolated, alone or overwhelmed by these thoughts?  Do they govern your mood this day?  Do they influence the decisions you might make, or avoid, today?    Do you have a sense of helplessness or powerlessness related to these issues or concerns?

Notice the impact of simply paying attention to them.   Can you find a way to just bear these thoughts, and simply allow these thoughts to exist?   Can you allow yourself not to have to respond immediately, or react reflexively, for just the next few moments?  Long enough to pay attention to sense what may be underneath these thoughts, feelings or worries?   This will take a just a few moments of your time…

Can you also notice how the familiarity of these ongoing thoughts tend to define and shape your sense of who you are, how you view yourself, and how you feel about yourself and the live you are presently living?

The art of self-reflection requires that we slow down enough to look at what we have been unable to look at, and live within, thus far.   Perhaps we have to look within at what we have been afraid to see – something that feels lurking, and is ‘as yet unknown’.  Our fears project strong and negative future-oriented thinking.   And we tend to most strongly project onto a future outcome something that has already happened to us, in our past. Particularly when it involves an unhealed wound, or an unprocessed life experience.

When these deeply held thoughts go unaddressed and unprocessed, they tend to recede into our unconscious minds, and shape our most fundamental beliefs about life.  And what we believe to be true, will tend to play out as true, positively or negatively.  That is the nature of a self-fulfilling prophecy.   We live out what we most identify with, and believe to be true about ourselves.  With our unprocessed pain or our undeveloped and limited sense of self, this is especially so.

So back now to whatever you are presently focusing your attention on in your daily external world.   What thoughts are pulling you away from yourself, in a negating or diminished way?   Can you simply observe these thoughts, without ignoring them, being distracted from them, or most significantly, not succumbing to them (by over-identifying with them?)

As I practice this very thing right now, I feel the pull of so many tasks I have created for myself.  These thoughts give rise to a recognizable uneasiness, then a vague, familiar anxiousness within me.  These various tasks all feel important, and they create a feeling in me of being unable to respond to them all.   As I track this old sense of feeling unable, I notice how this feeling creates a tension in my stomach, and then also in my jaw.  This is fuel for a generalized, mild yet unmistakable feeling of tension and inadequacy for me.  As if somehow I am not valuable or lovable if enough of these tasks are not completed in a timely fashion, and also done well.   There can be no peace until an undefinable amount of these endless tasks are completed.

This dynamic, in turn, creates a sense of immobilization, a subtle kind of trancelike state within me.  This is precisely how I create a stopping current for my life force energy within.   I can feel how I would welcome any kind of distraction right now, as I sit on my back porch, and feel the sun’s heat bearing down on my skin and my mood, mid-way through this hot summer’s morning.

And right this very moment, a small but striking synchronicity happens.   Two young bucks, an eight-point and a ten-point, amble down my driveway, about 15 feet away from where I sit.   I stop my typing, drop my internal focus, and feel what happens inside.   I am pulled right into the lived experience of the present moment.   I feel alive inside, alert, relaxed, and excited.   Ahhh – excitement, once again!   I watch them walk, and I quietly whistle to them.  They stop, look at me for an instant, and simply stroll on through my backyard, and go own their way.   I am alive.

In the next moment, one of my neighbors is yelling at the deer, shoo-ing them from her yard, and then another neighbor cheers her on, also wanting the wildlife to go away.  As a gardener in this neighborhood, I understand their reaction completely.   As a journeyer in the world of mythic adventurer, I am struck by this play of serendipity that just transpired.   How something wild and untamable walks in the world of domestication, gardening, and lawn care.

What makes some place in us wish for that which is wild and untamable within us to go away, and go away quickly?  Do not disturb the flower gardens in our lives, our plans for what we want to create, and do not threaten those things that we possess, and have invested our time and energy in.   And yet, how is it that the mystery seeker, the mythic adventurer within, also longs for this spontaneity, for a wild and memorable encounter, for surprise to pull us towards a rapture we cannot manufacture with our individual wills.

Now I am walking between two worlds.  Yet again.  In a subtle way, I am somehow in a very different internal space from the one I was in five minutes ago.   I am, as Joseph Campbell spoke in the opening passage of this essay, passing back and forth across the horizons of this world and another, in and out of the dragons I make with my mind, as readily as only one who is masterful can, through all the rooms of his interior space.

Now back to paying attention to the chronic and habitual ways of thinking that tend to consume your energy and your attention, and shape your day-to-day sense of yourself.

Can you observe your thinking once again, without have to act right away, and without having to distract yourself from what you think?  Without succumbing to the underlying feelings they generate?   Can you just let the thoughts pass, let them be what moves, and you stay anchored, centered and still within?

Now – what can you extend yourself towards, that holds meaning for you  – that is not of this world?   Something vast, eternal, and benevolent.   Something that fundamentally useful and thus good.  Perhaps a nature setting, a sacred spiritual or religious symbol, or a mantra – any pathway that can open you to a different and larger energy, a bigger presence than just yourself, and your own mind?

Let that come towards you now, through you internal capacity to clearly visualize that presence, and breathe more deeply into the core of your being, while grounding the lower half of your body, and also resting into the ground underneath you.  What happens when you make just a few moments for this internal shift, right now?  Pay attention to the subtlety of any shift you are experiencing, as this is how it will deepen and root within you, as you attend to it.

Pause here for a little while, being with what you have just experienced…

Now let’s also work with the potency of the written word, through the medium of poetry, to explore further how we consciously walk in two worlds, and notice that place inside where they become one.  Here is a poem by R.S. Thomas, a 20th century Welsh poet and Anglican priest.

Before going any further, consider closing your eyes, and taking a few slow and deep breaths into your belly, inhaling through your nose, and exhaling out from your mouth.   Pay attention to the movement that happens through your body as you breath, and the felt sensations in your body, as a result of your breath, a ‘life force in motion’.    Then drink these words in slowly, like warm, refreshing tea….

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it.

Feel the impact of the first half of the line.   This is what the two young bucks walking down my driveway and through my yard, did for me.  They were like sunlight breaking through, to illuminate the small field of my interior life.   I held a state of wonder for a few moments that were alive and outside of time, and beyond any ego concerns I carry around.    Then, I gradually re-focused myself on the task at hand – continuing to write this essay.   Soon, I will go on with other tasks, taking a rest from my writing, and will have forgotten about my encounter with the young male deer.  I can easily resume my concerns over the undone tasks for this day.

Without help from something greater, without the structure and context of a soul’s journey, we readily fall prey to our ego’s concerns and our personality’s worries.  They are endless, and varied, and well established – ready to come forth in any given moment.

But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it.

This capacity to go beyond our ego concerns, our self-interests, our sense of being right (or wronged), this is the pearl of great price.  This is what is truly heroic for the people of today.   To look within our troubles, and see our way through them, in order to – in some way – be taken beyond our identification with them to a larger sense of who we are.

Here is where we learn to accept the limitations of our fate, and not simply resign ourselves to it, and thus become fated.   Here, we take hold of a gem of ancient and universal truth: where our fate binds us, there our destiny will find us.

Where has the sun broken through to illuminate your field of existence?   How can you pay attention long enough, clearing the clouds of despair and confusion enough, to see where the illumination of eternity shines through, right here in this world you live in, today?

Can you devote yourself to the hero’s task of focusing your attention on the breaking through of insight, awareness and synchronicity right here and now in your life?  Where you may least expect it, or even allow it?

Can you tolerate the internal disruption you must bear, when a higher energy frequency wants to disrupt your lowered energy, your sameness, smallness or dullness, your familiar, stale and comfortably dark places within?

Can you stay with the journey of transformation long enough to bear witness to exactly how you walk away, over and over again, out of habit and out of discomfort, from that sun which illuminates your small field?  Can you manage to not be defeated by the witnessing of your own forgetting, failing, avoiding?   We are all doing this, day in and day out, so your failures aren’t really that special or unique.   No problem.  Just come back.

Resilience is a necessary skill for the mythic adventurer.

Now here is some more wisdom medicine being offered by Thomas.   Take a few more sips from his poem:

Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after
an imagined past.
It is the turning
 aside
like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

Isn’t it true that we always seem to be hurrying towards our future?  We must have the capacity to recognize that this hurrying is defensive in nature.  It wards off the present moment, which we sub-consciously believe we cannot bear or withstand, whether it is positive, negative or neutral in its nature.   This is why slowing down is so essential to a developmental process.

The paradox is, the more we slow down to pay attention to our unfolding interior lives, the faster we will cultivate our capacities as functional and compassionate human beings.

Isn’t it also true that we tend to hold on to the pain; to the old, limiting belief systems that where formed by childhood minds; to a fear-based victim identity – until we get the proper amount of support and regard to let them go?   Many of us bury the past, and confuse this will having let it go, or having moved beyond it.   Then the unfinished business of our past re-creates itself in the present day, like a ghost in the machine, until we unearth what went wrong, and apply a compassionate and corrective response to it, from the present moment of our being.

Our ability to transform ourselves will inevitably require the presence of helpful others in our present day lives, who will need to be internalized, and thought about.  We have to learn to receive what we were never given, before we can truly give from a place of abundance within.   This requires us to open, to go where we have not gone before – the hero’s act of courage.

Vital life force energy, accessed and revealed through the emergence of soul coming forth in the mind and body of the hero on his or her journey, is transitory.  It can be fleeting, and it is also incremental.  The revelation of soul consciousness can only happen little by little, across the span of a lifetime, for the one who has embraced the hero task of reclaiming one’s soul purpose.  There is no other way.  This is because each little revelation has profound magnitude and gravity, in and of itself, for the ego self.  Small glimpses of soul are all that we can manage, without becoming blinded by the light, or swallowed by the darkness.

What becomes understood is that time and eternity are two aspects of the same experience-whole, two planes of the same nondual ineffable….

- Joseph Campbell

The boon, the pearl beyond all price for the hero, is the arrival and discovery of an embodied sense of vital life force energy, along with penetrating insight, awareness and irony.  This will be accompanied by a sense of surprise, wonder and awe – combined with a rightness of place and timing, and a peace beyond all human comprehension.

This inward experience is intimate, like that of a deeply personal visit from a universal presence that cannot ever be described, and could not in any way be ignored.   It is the felt sense of the eternal meeting us, as Campbell says above, in the field of time – which can only be found here and now, in this present moment.  This is how eternity awaits us all.  This is not something to wish for only once we die.  This is something to journey for while we are living, with awareness.

I recently visited my daughter in Dallas.  She has just relocated there for a career opportunity, having just graduated from college this past May.   I could feel the passing of time as a palpable experience, and outside of time, all at once.  This past Father’s Day, my daughter gave me a picture of her and I in front of the golden dome at Notre Dame.  She is in her graduation gown, I in my suit.   Then I received from her mother a photo of my daughter and I at the bus stop, the morning of her first day at school.  She is six years old, wearing her backpack and carrying her lunch box.  Both of these images touch me deeply.

Where does time go?  Why does it feel like there is never enough of it?  How is it that everything beyond this particular day, and point in time, feels dream-like?   How can a memory, accessed through captured images on paper, create a sense of something that happened so long ago, and also like it was just yesterday?   How is it that this feeling can move me so deeply inside, and feel so familiar, like an old and cherished friend?

Such a mystery, this life as it moves us, and takes us forward.  Walking in two worlds, the way we as human beings walk on two legs.  One foot moving through time, and one foot rooted in eternity.

Living with this awareness, I have the privilege and the opportunity of having the experience of being an embodiment of that which is eternal – intangible in nature, infinite in possibility, and destined for what I have been born to do.

- Michael Mervosh

The world is filled and illumined by, but does not hold, the Bodhisattva, the one whose being has awakened.  Rather, he is the one who holds the world, the lotus.  Pain and pleasure do not enclose him, he encloses pain and pleasure, with profound repose.  And since he is what all of us may be, his presence, his image, the mere naming of him, helps.

-       Joseph Campbell

The boon bestowed upon a worshiper is always scaled to his or her stature and the the nature of one’s dominant desire: the boon is simply a symbol of life energy stepped down to the requirements of a certain specific case.  The irony, of course, lies in the fact that, whereas the hero who has won the favor of the god may be for the boon of perfect illumination, what he or she generally seeks are longer years to live, weapons with which to slay the neighbor, or the health of one’s child.

-       Joseph Campbell

Walking In Two Worlds: Essay #7 – The Belly of the Beast: Surrendering Over to Something Larger and Other

June 21st, 2012

Paradoxdefined – a seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement or proposition that when investigated or explained may prove to be well founded or true.

The hero goes inward, disappears;
only to re-appear, born again.

The idea that the passage of the magical threshold is a transit into a sphere of rebirth is symbolized in the worldwide womb image of the belly of the whale.  The hero, instead of conquering or conciliating the power of the threshold, is swallowed into the unknown, and would appear to have died.

-       Joseph Campbell

There is an unknown territory, a mysterious area where
the presence of death does not equal the end of life…

The point is to be able to undergo a little death
in order to find the
genuine thread of one’s life.

-       Michael Meade

This essay offers a reflection on the paradoxical nature of surrender.   Of undergoing the little ego deaths that must happen to give birth to a larger soul presence, and to allow that presence of soul to become more incarnate in this world, within and beyond the ego that contains the personalities that we are.  This letting go must happen, again and again, while we live into and through our lifetime.

Each time we do, we bring back more soul substance from that other intangible realm of existence, and bring it forth into this world we live in.  This is our fundamental hero’s task to be undertaken and fulfilled, before we journey back one day to that world from which we came.

“This thing we tell of can never be found by seeking, but only seekers find it.”

- Abu Yazid

Surrender is not something we can willfully choose to make happen, though we may assent to undergo the process with our full being.  Even though it cannot be a conscious choice of will, we have to be willing, in order to experience it.  We can’t say, “I choose to surrender now”, and then it becomes so.  We can only ask for the best conditions to come into being, those that necessitate a bringing forth of the surrendering process within us.  Then we can choose to say ‘yes’ to the surrendering as it happens to us – when the timing and is right, and when our defenses can be let down enough to be taken, the way a raft is taken by a flowing river.


Surrendering is more of a conscious attitude than an action step, a thing to do.  It is more ‘a being done to’, a state of being that allows something to happen inside of us.  It is a position of humility that comes from strength; yet is also a deep yielding to a force or a power that is much greater that one’s own self.

As these moments of surrender arrive, the ego knows it’s true place in relation to Divine Will.  It knows something about its genuine capacities as well as its true limitations in relation to something larger.   Some place inside the self wants to surrender over.  Mythic journeying helps one to become ready, and strong enough to do so.   The hero’s task is to bear the dynamic tension that holds the fear and the awe of yielding over to something mysterious and beyond itself.

Surrender is not submission.  When we humble ourselves, when we bow down in front of something we perceive as holy or sublime, we do not give away our power to that ‘other’ presence.  We join with this ‘otherness’, which also joins with us.  In doing so, we surrender over more deeply to a presence inside of ourselves.  True surrender is always towards something larger within the self, not to something outside of the self. It is an expansive, as opposed to contracted, state of being.

The nature of paradox is such that when we honor the limits of the self and the smallness of our being, we can then grow beyond that limitation into an identification with something much larger than the self.  This is very different from an inflated ego state, where the sense of largeness is over-estimated (and conversely is an indicator of pettiness), and not in proper relationship to the otherness of this world.

As we engage in the realm of mythic adventure, we can feel and accept our smallness, like a boat upon the sea; we can then ask to surrender, in order to join with the sea.  As we do, we can feel the largeness of the sea alive within us, while in our small boat that we call the Self.

As we continue along the hero’s path of mythic adventure, we journey further and further into regions unknown to us.  Inevitably, we come to grips with the precise adventures and ordeals that will take us directly into ‘the belly of the beast’.  Entering this realm, we look within ourselves to confront those very things, which hold us back from realizing the boon of our lifetime, and from becoming signposts, transparent towards what is transcendent and everlasting.

Facing the Dragon – Going Against the Ego’s Initial Impulse

Learning to face the dragons in our lives – what Joseph Campbell considered to be a direct confrontation with the internalized demands of the society or culture upon the individual – is facing all the primitive “Thou Shalts” and “Thou Shalt Nots” we absorb as young children.  We abide by these expectations and demands, often in order to be received and accepted by our families, our social networks and our institutions.

Once we have internalized the cultural expectations that give us a sense of place or status in our culture, we organize ourselves by these externally based values and determinants.  As we do so, we may lose sight of our deepest longings and soul desires for life-giving adventure, and passionately lived experiences.   When we decide at last to follow our own bliss, we come up against deeply embedded internalized forces that can feel monstrous in their size – as if these forces could and would annihilate our most cherished longings and impulses.

These internalized mythic energies are the fire-breathing dragons that live within our psyches.   They are the internal beasts that lie in wait for us, when we venture out beyond the protection of societal rules and cultural norms.  And we inevitably must confront and wrestle with these dragons or beasts.

Ordeals bring us towards epic internal encounters with forces that would apparently seek to annihilate our deepest wishes.  We do not yet realize that these energies are disowned aspects of our own true nature. Rather than running from this life force energy within the self, at some crucial transition point in our lives, we have to face them.  This is what we call ‘facing the dragon’, from the mythic perspective.

The late 19th – early 20th century German poet Rilke intimately understood this internal wrestling.   He knew what must be undertaken by the ego, in order to surrender into ‘communion with the ineffable’.  He offers us words to better understand the dynamics of such a challenge, of the courage and effort needed to come up against opposing forces within, and how that leads towards the creation of conditions necessary for surrender to take place inside.

And if only we arrange our life
according to that principle which counsels us
that we must always hold to the difficult,
then that which now still seems to us the most alien
will become what we most trust and find most faithful.

If only we live our lives according to the principle that we must hold to the difficult… Well, frankly, this rarely holds much appeal to anyone at first.   Who asks for a difficult life?  The paradox here is that when we avoid difficulty as a way of life, we can begin to perceive our lives as being more difficult than they truly are.  We learn to see struggle as a bad and unnecessary thing, and we form a life-negating relationship to life’s challenges.  Thus, our character becomes avoidant and passive, and gradually begins to wither.

Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

By living our lives as a mythic hero’s journey, we understand that adventures and ordeals help bring meaning and vitality into our lives, through facing and overcoming challenges that can bring forth our unlived potential.  We accept that anything worthwhile involves some sort of ordeal at some point, beyond the conceptual ideals we tend to hold.  Marriage, parenting, and commitment to vocations – these are all worthwhile, and they are all ordeals – as desirable, meaningful and fulfilling as they may ultimately be.   Surrendering to the reality of the ordeal is essential, in order to open ourselves to the boon.  And this takes us into the “belly of the beast’.

When we ready ourselves, and gather support to ourselves, we become more capable of surrendering to the ordeals of life, facing ‘what is’ – life on life’s terms.

We become more able to look towards what is right in front of us, as it is, and we confront the demons of fear held inside when necessary.  We face all that holds us back from what we could become.   Rather than willfully conquering this fear, and striving to overpower or overcome it – or reflexively fleeing from it, and hoping to rid its presence from in our lives – we relax into its threat or tension, and learn to be attentive to what happens inside as we do.

This is how we join with threatening external or internal forces.  This is how we don’t just not succumb to it, or reinforce it or argue against it.  We learn about ourselves when face the dragons within us in this way.   We begin to see exactly what keeps us from changing.  We let this trouble us in the best possible way.  This and this alone is what shifts one’s internal motivations, which in turn give us the energy and the focus to change our thinking, and eventually, more and more, our behaviors.

When we face the mythic dragons in our psyche, we face what we perceive to be most threatening to us in our lives.   When we enter the belly of the beast, we are required to enter a metaphorical space in which we are more intimately relating to what most disturbs our peace, usually in some variation of depressiveness or anxiousness.  We when are swallowed by whatever ‘whale of an issue’ we are facing, we invariably will enter a place of darkness, a place of tension, a place of deep unknowing.   But we are also given an opportunity to become more intimately connected to, and eventually expanded by, something that has previously been too threatening for us to see with clarity, or to engage with presence.

When in the belly of the beast, we face what we perceive to be ‘other than us’, something outside of our identification – that which is distinctly felt as ‘not me’.   Opening to a connection with this disowned and threatening presence is indeed uncomfortable, and it feels most un-natural in the beginning.  We can tend to use this sense of threat to project evil onto this aspect of what is alien or foreign to us. This distancing posture is the very thing that allows us to justify, maintain and reinforce our fixed ego positions towards life.

This is precisely what keeps us closed, small and defended about our positions, viewpoints, and attitudes towards the world.  This is ultimately what is deadly, as it prevents us from venturing forth towards what is alive, and worth living for.

But when we can know ourselves well enough, when we feel a connection to others and to a power greater than ourselves, we gain the resources we need to face the dragon of differentness, or that which feels alien to us.  By facing this presence, and and bearing what happens inside us as we do, we grow stronger.  We gradually learn, little by little, and only by our own lived-through experience with the dragon of difference, that we do not get annihilated by the fire breathing ‘not me’-ness – nor do we have to annihilate the presence of the dragon!   In fact, we incorporate it as a vital and even healthy part of ourselves.  This is the hard-work miracle of personal transformation.

We endure the encounter, we live through the experience, we continue to exist, we expand our capacity, we incorporate new (and previously foreign) energies, and in doing so, we begin to feel how we are no longer the same.   And we grow a gladness about and appreciation for the encounter; we feel a deep satisfaction, and a growing inner confident, through our participation with previously unknown worlds.

Rilke says that when we can face that which is most threatening to our well-being, or even to our very sense of existence, when we can tolerate the intense powerlessness we may feel, then that which now still seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful.

So again, this is the transformative dynamic that comes into awakening inside of us.  We begin to grow stronger right at our broken (open) places, deeper at our most threatened (vital) places, when we do not remain small or defended.  We can trust our ability to encounter people, places and things which are increasingly different from our ways, without losing ourselves, or without having to eliminate the other, or the ‘otherness’ from our minds, or from our lives.   This is how we mature and grow, as vulnerable and as magnificent as human beings can become.

How should we be able to forget those ancient myths
about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses;
perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses
who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.
Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being
something helpless that wants help from us.

How does something so threatening, so beyond our ability to control – and thus beastly, or monstrous – turn into a princess – something of beauty, vulnerability and honor?    How do we find the strength to change our minds, and thus our experience, about inner demons?    How do we learn to open ourselves to the external, beast-like, threatening encounters with other-ness, that which is “not-yet-me”?    How can we stay present to ourselves as we are taken, or swallowed by, our emotional reactions to unpleasant or hostile situations, to the things in life we cannot control?

This is being in the belly of the beast.

In the end, what allows us to realize, from a heroic perspective, that all the dragons of our lives have contained within them princesses, who have gone unattended to for so long?   Can we gradually learn to recognize that buried within each potentially horrible person, within each potentially horrific outcome, is the as-yet-unrealized potential of the jewel point?

This awakening requires of us the hero’s valor of courage – a certain strength of heart in the midst or threat or fear – which will awaken the ‘sleeping beauty’ in our lives; and which will bring forth all that is beautiful in this world, as well.

Joseph Campbell once said, “any disaster you can survive is an improvement in your character, your stature, and your life”. He would speak of this heroic way of developing one’s self as a privilege, as something that provides us with the opportunity of becoming who we truly are, and providing us with a chance for a spontaneous pouring forth of our own nature.

In the ways of mythic adventure, as we embrace the journey of living, there is room for failures, fallings, losses, downward arcs, and the ego deaths that come with them.   These places of failure and defeat seem to be the polarized opposite of the ‘apotheosis’ point, the highest culmination of one’s true potential.  Yet paradoxically, by bearing these dark inner spaces, one can be made ripe and ready for surrendering and softening into states of love, acceptance and peace that would not come through any other means.

Campbell speaks unequivocally of this, in Hero With A Thousand Faces. When we enter a state of surrendering over to what is divine and eternal, we can do so through suffering or through joy.  Through whichever doorway will open us, and can be made open to us.  Both deep suffering and deep joy can bring forth the profound sense of reverence, right at that very threshold point of joining with something frightening, beautiful and mysterious.

This popular motif gives emphasis to the lesson that the passage of the threshold is a form of self-annihilation….The hero goes inward, to be born again.   The disappearance corresponds to the passing of a worshiper into the temple – where he is to be quickened by the recollection of who and what he is…The temple interior, the belly of the whale, and the heavenly land beyond…are one and the same.


Perhaps what Rilke says in the last line of his prose is true, that everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us. Or, in the least, something that needs help from someone who is in a better space or position than the ‘terrible-ness’ one finds themselves in.

Both the science of modern day systems theory, as well as the ancient wisdom teachings on compassion down through the ages, have stressed this very point:  That a larger force of nature, when moved by both its ability to respond (agency), and its desire to respond (compassion), can bend towards and accommodate the weaker force.  This in turn, allows for an opportunity for the weaker force to adapt itself towards, and join with, the stronger force – until it can identity that larger presence within itself.

We all tend to reflexively do whatever is most familiar when placed in our greatest stress positions.  Here, the heroic action step is to move from beyond the most familiar pattern, to the one most appropriate and necessary for the current situation, especially when that has been foreign or alien to one’s historical sense of self.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day here in the United States.  My extended family will gather together for a Sunday dinner, and most likely, share stories that weave together the earlier times of our family life.  These days, my father, who is approaching his 90th year, has grown quite frail.  Struggling with limited lung functioning from a his early years of smoking, and 35 years working in the steel mills of Pittsburgh, his heart is now also giving him trouble.  He is physically weak, and on medications, for the first time in his life.   This fierce and fiery man has now become childlike and vulnerable. I am getting to know new things about him, through his story telling, that I never knew before.

I am surrendering to the fact that this could very well be our last father’s day with my father.   This awareness softens me into tender feelings, both as a son, and as father myself.   Confronting the finality of a loved one’s departure and death is like entering the belly of the beast called ‘time’, offering me another profound opportunity to reconcile with the ceaseless nature of impermanence.

I look towards what will be everlasting for him, which he says is the love of family.  I look towards what will live on everlastingly inside of me, which is what his presence has meant to me.  This for me is like approaching the threshold crossing into the shrine room, into holy ground.   I can sense the mystery of how ‘the belly of the beast’ is both fearsome and wondrous.  How surrendering to something larger pulls us towards the place where timelessness and time intersect.  This fills me with wistfulness, wonder, and somehow, peace.

These days, I have many memories of my own youth.  I remember my father’s involvement in my many sports activities; of how present and involved he was in the fabric of my sporting life from the age of five, well into my late twenties.  How his showing up for me, lives on in me.   I can feel how I am deeply motivated to do the same for the family and loved ones in my life that I have been committed to and responsible for, to this very day.  (Today, I taught my niece how to drive a car with a manual transmission.  Talk about facing the dragon!)

I am feeling the ways I am going back and forth between this time of Father’s Day, and the many memories of fatherhood that I have been having, my own and of my father’s, that live in me outside of time.   Today, I am walking in two worlds.

This weekend, through the hero archetype of the father, I am reflecting upon many things that matter:  How deeply love is rooted in the core our being; how we learn to survive loving and hating the same person, how we learn many essential lessons from those significant to us, beyond the disappointments and conflicts we encounter with them.

I am grateful for what lives on in me – born out of the belly of the beast of significant parental relationships – and for the meaning and gratitude and the peace that can only surface once we have ripened enough, and mature enough as human beings, to surrender into love, beyond all else.

- Michael Mervosh

The hero whose attachment to ego is already annihilate passes back and forth across the horizons of the world, in and out of the dragon, as readily as a king through all the rooms of his house.   Therein lies his power to save; for his passing and returning demonstrate that through all the contraries of phenomenality the Uncreate-Imperishable remains, and there is nothing to fear.

-       Joseph Campbell

HJ ESSAY #6 – Adventures & Ordeals: Finding the One Within the Other

June 7th, 2012

This blog post is an essay that forms part of the material in a new Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds.

Adventure – defined - an unusual and exciting (typically felt as dangerous) experience or activity; a daring activity calling for enterprise and enthusiasm.

Ordeal defined - a challenging or painful experience, especially a protracted one.
Something that has come forth that was not expected, asked for or wanted.

Security is mostly a superstition.
It does not exist in nature,
Nor do the children of men
As a whole experience it.
Avoiding danger is no safer

In the long run
Than outright exposure.
Life is either a daring adventure,
Or nothing.
To keep our faces toward change and
Behave like free spirits
In the presence of fate
Is strength undefeatable.

- Helen Keller

It is important to feel secure.  To form meaningful attachments.  To feel loved, accepted and adequately regarded and cared for.  To feel safe and protected in this world.  We all need this important foundation of security woven into the fabric of our being, as this essential grounding gives us the internal stability and fortitude necessary to venture forth deep into the world.

That being said: security is, indeed, mostly a superstition.  Like a fairy tale, it speaks to a young and culturally reinforced place within us that wishes for something to be that cannot really be.  Or can only temporarily be.  Or needed to be, when we were young.  As children, we relied on the presence, care and support of others in order to feel secure.  We depended on these external resources to help us feel stable enough on the inside, allowing us to take meaningful risks and have life-giving explorations and adventures.

In our cultural milieus, we are shaped to seek security, sometimes above all else.  Our educational and career endeavors are often focused primarily around gaining an opportunity for economic security.  Getting married – “to have and to hold” – also contributes to the collective ideal of being provided for, of coming together to sustain and be sustained as a family throughout a lifetime.


Security is something we strive for, sometimes obtain, and often fail to retain.  In actuality, it is something that comes and goes from our lives, as life is to be lived on its own terms.   This being true, then we must be sobered by what Helen Keller says.  That in this way of living life on life’s terms, avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.

When we fail at the fundamental emotional and psychological developmental tasks of attachment and security in childhood, that which helps us to feel safe in the world, we can become overly focused on securing external measures as a substitute.  Things like finances become the primary means for obtaining our security, beyond adequate food, shelter and love.  Money, of course, is that singular external resource, necessary in almost all parts of the world for an exchange of basic goods, services and supplies for living.  But it is not a valid substitute for internal resourcefulness, which is cultivated by our capacity for self-activation, venturing forth, and being resilient in the face of failure – in our language – adventuring!

On the path of the soul’s heroic journey, saying yes to the way of adventure means also saying yes to the challenges of the ordeal, and vice versa.  You cannot have one without the other.  This becomes a fundamental truth once we cross the threshold, go beyond the familiar, and enter the realm of mythic adventure.

Paradoxically, in the realm of mythic adventure, safety becomes the final danger.

In fact, for many of us in the cultured procurement of our current post-modern world, we have never had more abundant means.   Convenience, luxury, and ease are goals for the modern way of life.   Precisely because of this cultural backdrop, security in the end becomes our final danger.  By being overfed the substitutes for an actual life we can call our own, we are no longer clear or lean enough to realize what it takes to bring forth our own vitality, meaning and purpose.

The science fiction writer H.G. Wells spoke to this very thing about our modern ways of life, quite poignantly and dramatically:

“But in these plethoric times when there is too much coarse stuff for everybody and the struggle for life takes the form of competitive advertisement and the effort to fill your neighbor’s eye, there is no urgent demand either for personal courage, sound nerves or stark beauty, we find ourselves by accident.

Always before these times the bulk of the people did not overeat themselves because they couldn’t, whether they wanted to or not, and all but a very few were kept “fit” by unavoidable exercise and personal danger.  Now if only one pitch his or her standard low enough and keep free from pride, almost anyone can achieve a sort of excess.

You can go through contemporary life fudging and evading, indulging and slacking, never really hungry nor frightened nor passionately stirred, your highest moment a mere sentimental orgasm, and your first real contact with primary and elemental necessities the sweat of your death bed.”


Those who work in the field of hospice care have learned a deep wisdom teaching from listening to those who time on earth is about to end: When one looks back over the span of a life, one’s deepest regrets will most often be for the venture that failed to be undertaken, and not for the failed undertaking of the venture.

Those who cannot and do not say ‘yes’ to the adventure of living may also manage to avoid certain ordeals, creating other ordeals in the process of avoiding.  When one lives in this manner, one becomes left to live out the smallness of life, fated to ‘sameness’.  By playing it too safe, they are cast only for the management of the mundane, tending to the necessary daily chores and tasks of life that maintain and preserve a narrow, flattened existence.

This is why we need to able to understand the danger of playing it too safe.  By allowing our lives to be lived as a meaningful, yet uncertain journey, we create the potential for a vibrant life.  One filled with spontaneity, surprise and wonder, that can only be joined with, and not controlled.

The Adventure Brings Forth the Ordeal

So this is the deal, and we have say ‘yes’ to it.   The essential combining of an adventure with an ordeal is the very thing, which can bring forth the conditions by which we discover the unrealized potential in ourselves.  It creates a sense of largeness in life.

The excitement is in the fear, and the fear is in the excitement.

If we don’t see ourselves as a player in the mythological field of opportunity, we tend to project our vitality onto a real or imagined superhero – we perceive that they can do what we can’t and don’t want to do – so we project our own hero potential onto those larger-than-life figures.  Then we don’t have to do the hard work of realizing what we have been born for, and strive to contribute those essential capacities to the need of the world.

The Ordeal Brings Forth the Sense of Adventure

Subsequently, once we move past our initial emotional reactions to life circumstances and interactions that involve ordeals, we can begin to locate our authentic ‘hero response’ to the challenge that has been placed in front of us.   We must have an awakening to the realization that the exact conditions needed to elicit our true potential from within us have transpired, in ways that we may not yet be able to understand.  We have to say yes to the ordeal, to go with it. When we can do this, the sense of adventure returns to us, more internalized now.  Thus, we can become even more motivated and inspired, as we begin to follow the life force energy emerging from within.  This begins the opening to the profound ‘discovery of the boon’ within the hero, brought forth from the realm of mythic adventure found in the ordeals of daily life.

Joseph Campbell said that when we say yes to the ordeal, there is a deep sub-conscious recognition and acceptance that there is something about a proper ordeal, when taken up within the spirit of mythic adventure, that “drives the human spirit forward, in counteraction to those human fantasies that tend to tie it back”.

This is in essence an embodiment of the Buddhist sutra of one’s “joyful participation in the sorrows of the world”, where the modern day personality dies a little death, and the eternal shines through from within the trying circumstance of life’s vicissitudes, born anew, and giving new life to those who can partake of life in this way.

From the Ideal to the Real

We also cling to what therapists would say are our “infantile fantasy wishes’, these constructs of our own making that are full of idealized values, beliefs, and views of ourselves or others.   We tend use them, as Campbell says in the paragraph above, as something to tie us back to what is old and familiar.  They become used as defensive maneuvers away from the mess of really working something through a new experience that is raw and undeveloped, something that needs our attention, our back and forth-ness, trial and error, etc.  It is this mindfulness of attention, the new re-organizing of our thinking, and the courage to try new behaviors that forge new life, and move it forward through “the necessary passages of our adulthood’.

As uncomfortable and unmanageable as ordeals can be, they also offer us a chance to feel a certain kind of ‘realness’ within ourselves, and a sense that ‘this is it, this is my life, and it is happening right now’.   It shifts us from a sense that our lives being lived according to the construct of the ‘map’, and we now feel thrown into the actual ‘territory’.   Below is a beautiful passage from the eastern mystic from the 15th century, Kabir.  He speaks with his usual passionate eloquence about this shift from conceptual thinking to the potency of lived experience:

“There is nothing but water in the holy pools.
I know, I have been swimming there.
All the gods sculpted of wood or ivory can’t say a word.
I know, I have been crying out to them.
The sacred books of the East are nothing but words.
I looked through their covers sideways one day.
What Kabir speaks of is only what he has lived through.
If you have not lived through something,
It is not true.”


From the Map To the Territory

Kabir encourages us to shift our devotion from the “infantile fantasy” of being rescued by heavenly forces from the trials of life on earth, to being strengthened by the adult ‘living through’ of life’s experiences.

We also cling to concepts in this very same way as well.  We can get caught up in the fascination with abstract and theoretical positions, which don’t allow us to enter into the uncertainty and complexity of a genuine adventure, where we are being carried upon the twists and turns of fate and destiny, in our actual lives.

Kabir is also saying that we will learn most when we enter the territory of real life, experience things for ourselves, have our own unique perspective, however limited they might be.  And ultimately, we must make our own choices, as only we can.  These choices, for better and for worse, shape our fate, and create our destiny.

We gain the most from life; we are most nourished and satisfied, when we learn from own lived experience, and not from our heads.

It is important not to confuse the menu with the meal.

The Adventure & Ordeal of the Ascent:

Cultivating the Masculine Principle Within

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If You Want to Ascend, You Must

Say ‘Yes’ to the Effort of the Climb

Opening to the thrust towards largeness, the vast and ascendant possibility of spirit within us, and connecting to that which is the universal connecting agent – requires effort and work, especially in the beginning.  It confronts the “infantile fantasy” that many of us cling to, that there can be reward without effort.   That new life can come, without having to contribute towards it.  There is no such thing.  Disappointing perhaps, but also grounding.

There is an old saying, that ‘children wish, but adults do’.  This is because only as young children do we have the right to be given to, without having to give.   It is natural for children to desire to be given to.  Then we have to grow up.  As we do, we grow a desire to give, and to give from our own sense of fullness.   Children benefit as a result of life happening.  Adults contribute to making life happen.  This is how it must be.

There always must be an exchange in life, for life to happen.   Avoiding the exchange of effort, while trying to receive the outcome or reward that comes by (someone’s) effort, conjures an unreality.    It also creates a sense of entitlement, and it unconscious demands things from others, who will eventually lose their desire to give, and will do so, primarily out of obligation.

We must be able to bear the effort it takes to grow upwards and to go outwards, and to thrust ourselves into life.  The motivation to make this effort must be born within us.  We need to have cultivated the necessary courage, the nerve and the sustaining focus to do so.   We must be self-activating.  As we do so, we face both our limits and our potential within the tangible world of space and time.

how to climb a mountain

Make no mistake. This will be an exercise in staying vertical.
Yes, there will be a view, later, a wide swath of open sky,
but in the meantime: tree and stone. If you’re lucky, a hawk will
coast overhead, scanning the forest floor. If you’re lucky,
a set of wildflowers will keep you cheerful. Mostly, though,
a steady sweat, your heart fluttering indelicately, a solid ache
perforating your calves. This is called work, what you will come to know,
eventually and simply, as movement, as all the evidence you need to make
your way. Forget where you were. That story is no longer true.
Level your gaze to the trail you’re on, and even the dark won’t stop you.

-Maya Stein

In this poem, Maya Stein tells of what it takes to climb, which is a metaphor for growing up.   This self-activating yang principle, in the form of outward effort, must be made, and cannot be short-changed.   Any short cut here, in the end, lengthens the distance towards the boon, the desired goal.

Their will be a view, she says.  You will be rewarded. But not immediately, later. There is no immediate gratification to be found on a soul’s journey.  In fact, this will take a lifetime.   She is pointing us to the task at hand.  Tree and stone. Groundedness.  Facing what is in front of you.  Occasionally, we are rewarded with surprise and wonder – the appearance of a hawk flying overhead.  We can’t feel entitled to this viewing.  We are graced with it.  It comes when it does, and when it does, hopefully we are not too self-absorbed, and can pay attention enough to see it.

Stein’s teaching is this:  Our own efforts create movement in life.  And it is what will move our lives forward.   And we are not doing it all by ourselves, and life doesn’t happen solely by our own efforts, on our own behalf.   The universe participates as well.   These efforts also help to dissolve what is old, and what is holding us back.

These lines are powerful:  Forget where you were. That story is no longer true.

I can remember the first time I did the climb on the Via Ferrate course that we use as part of our Hero’s Journey Intensives.   We were lead by our guide to the first pitch, and were able to climb without all the technical skill and gear required of typical mountain climbing.  Thus, we were granted access to vistas typically only experienced by seasoned climbers.

I remember the first time I turned my gaze away from the rock that was right in front of my face, and towards the view that was being offered to me, as a result of my initial ascent.  It was dizzying.   And wondrous.  To gaze upon and into a vista opened before me.   The perspective was far different here than the one I had on the ground.  It was a new story, as well as a new perspective, unfolding in me now.

It took a few years to integrate this realization, and to understand that this is what it takes to shape a new destiny for one’s self.  I had to stay grounded while on vast heights.  Consider new possibilities for my own life, that I could contain a feeling as similar taking in this new view.

Level your gaze to the trail you’re on, and even the dark won’t stop you. To manage the dizziness, I turn back to the effort at hand, to the climbing, one ladder rung at a time.  My footsteps, my trail being made.   It is a profoundly liberating feeling to feel the darkness of fear no longer stopping me.   The felt sense that I am moving upward, and forward, deep in my body, deep in my heart, stays with me to this very day, and even as I write this.

The Adventure & Ordeal of the Descent:

Cultivating the Feminine Principle Within

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If You Want Depth and Beauty,

You Must Say ‘Yes’ to the Dark Underground

Opening to the pull of inwardness, downwardness and life-giving descendent principle of soul within us – that which gives birth to the unique, individuated path; the one that can only be ours – requires yielding, softening, and surrendering.

We must be able to tolerate letting go into, and joining with, the sense of what is eternal and everlasting.  We yield and go into, then go beyond, any knowing – or even knowing how.  We let go of our own limits and bounds, and yield over and into the peace within the dark no-thing-ness, beyond all human understanding.

Paradoxically, only out of this depth of spaciousness and dark unknowing, can we come to know our unique sense of purpose and meaning.   Something becomes born anew out of the void.

We all seem to understand that we need to grow up, even if we don’t really want to.  There is some acceptance and comprehension that there is something to be obtained from this process, if we can endure the sense of loss of our child-like ways.

Knowing that we need to grow up is one thing.  Understanding that we also need to grow down is more difficult.  Accepting that we need to be taken down, and in, to give birth to new life.   To transform our being, we must learn how to go inside, stay there, and recognize, value and find meaning within the interior spaces of life.

On our Hero’s Journey Intensive, we use both the metaphor and the lived experience of the underground cave.   If you have never been under the earth in any natural or sustained way, the shift from one reality to another is dramatic, stark, and powerful.

You leave the world of light and color, where everything is in fluctuation, and has contrast.  As you bow down, and transition from light to dark, the shift is immediate, as the year-round temperature is in the mid-50 degrees Farenheit, and damp.   Color takes on only shades of grey, and the only sound to be heard, if there is any sound at all, is the hollow echoes of dripping or trickles of water.

Mostly, what one encounters in a natural, underground cave – when not moving about and navigating with a flashlight – is darkness, coolness, spaciousness, and silence.   One feels enveloped by a hollow, captivating sense of timelessness.   It can feel daunting to be thrusted inward in such a profound way.   The sense of emptiness and darkness can vascillate between tomblike and womblike.   It takes a little time to acclimate not only to the conditions of the cave, but also to the conditions of paying attention to one’s own interior in such a direct and undistracted way.

One can feel swallowed by the emptiness and darkness, even haunted by it.  One can feel enchanted by it, as well, and enthralled by an ever present sense of mystery and vastness, which is deeply internal, in an impersonal and personal way.

What one has to practice, from a soul journey perspective, is adapting to a sense of stillness as one descends, as opposed to the sense of movement encountered upon a climb.   T.S. Eliot understood the value and purpose of darkness, and the soul’s need to descend into the womb-like abyss of the dark void, which gives birth to all new life.   But first, we need to work through the tomb-like nature of this element, which detaches us from the world of light.

I said to my soul be still
And let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God.

Wait without hope,
For hope would be hope
For the wrong thing.

Wait without love,
For love would be love
for the wrong thing.

There is yet faith,
But the faith and the love and the hope
Are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought,
For you are not ready for thought.

And so the darkness shall become the light,
And the stillness, the dancing.

-       T.S. Eliot

Here we make a transition from any defensive form of movement and activity, which takes us away from growing down.  The hero must develop his or her capacity to yield, in order to join with something larger than the self.   This kind of surrender is very different from, and often confused with, submission.   It is a deep giving over, not only to something larger than one’s self, but ultimately to something larger within one’s self as well.

This kind of surrender is like the giving over of a water drop to a larger pool of water.  As a water drop enters the pool, it joins with the pool, and appears to have disappeared from existence, from a tangible, material perspective.  However, from the mystical point of view, the water drop is now identified with the pool.  The water drop is now the pool. Rumi says that not only is the water drop now within the ocean, but the ocean is within the water drop, as well.

I remember how profoundly altered I can become inside of caves.  I used to visit unexplored parts of public caves as an adolescent and young adult, fascinated by what happened when I was swallowed by the dark, and out of the natural light.   Crawling, being on all fours, using arms and legs to traverse – this alters something in the brain chemistry, and activates the reptilian brain, from which we have evolved.

Then after being active, I would  rest in the darkness.  In this being with silence and stillness, I would begin to dissolve, like a water drop entering a vast pool.   No thoughts would come.  None at all.  Only my senses were active.  Sight, smell, taste, touch and sound engaged in the midst of the dark and silent stillness.  Forever was right there, outside of time, in a mind-blowing kind of way.

I  began to have vivid memories of early childhood life.  Feelings of grief and awe would spontaneously surface.   I would feel on the edge of my seat, wondering what would well up next into awareness from the dark well of my unconscious.  At times, a sense of the eternal would be almost unbearable.

Years later, while sitting alone in a dark cave, I remember the first time I understood the last lines of Eliot’s poem.  And so the darkness shall become the light.  And the stillness, the dancing. I put my hands in front of my face, feeling exquisitely the feeling of motion through my limbs, while rooted on a sitting pad.  Then I realized that I was also seeing my hands, in complete and total darkness!   They were darker in appearance than the total darkness of empty space.  It appeared that matter, being more dense, was darker than empty space.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I would move my arms around, and watch them move at the same time I could feel them move.  It was exhilarating to experience.  Then, I gradually realized I could begin sensing open space  in the cave, as opposed to the solidness of the ceiling, walls and floor.  I was not as blind in the dark as I thought.  New sensing awareness was taking place.  To this day, I marvel at this awareness of light and movement taking place in the darkness and silence of underground cave spaces.

But what I have come to appreciate far more than the literal experience of this, is its metaphorical significance.   As a continue to practice letting go into the unknown void of unconscious internal space, I am endlessly surprised by my recollections of dream states, spontaneous insights or memories of significance, and increasingly fascinated by the power of the mythic imagination.

Eternity, and All We Need, is in the Here and Now

Ultimately, embracing the Adventure and the Ordeal as being one, we enter the state of being in the Now point.   The eternal world, when one lives in the present moment, is born anew in each moment that consciousness is present.  By accepting that the universe has the potential to re-create itself in any given moment, or conscious encounter, we have more motivation and incentive to stay present to the here and now, and witness its unfolding.  Gradually, we come to see for ourselves that all we need can be found in the here and now – and in fact, will be found in no other place.

The recognition that our own capacity for being aware actually shapes the unfolding of reality around us is indeed a profound recognition.  It is the beginning of awakening to the realization that the ocean of Divinity is indeed active and present within the little water drop of humanity that I am.

Wendell Berry, the clear-eyed, plain speaking Kentucky tobacco farmer, thinker, essayist and poet, conveys this recognition.  As always, he gives us the experience of nature as a simple and profound reflecting mirror into our truest self:

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear

in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

When we awaken to the realization that we don’t need the world to change, but in fact can change within ourselves, we are entering the heroic realm of today’s modern and mythic spirit-adventurer.   What we need is already within us, waiting to be birthed.  The universe itself, Campbell said, is conspiring towards this very aim.  It needs and wants more soul to come forth on this planet, as it wants to know itself, here and now, on earth.

This is the evolutionary call to adventure that we must come to understand, appreciate and become actively involved in.

The adventure is in the ordeal, and the ordeal in is the adventure.  That’s the deal.

There is eternity to be discovered while we are here, on earth.  What we need to undertake is the journey that is waiting for us, which will take us to our Divinity within.   Let’s not have regret on our deathbeds.

What we need to take us towards the eternal is here, now, in this world.

Let us all keep walking in two worlds.

- Michael Mervosh


Walking In Two Worlds: Essay #4- Entering the Forest: Wandering From the Path Already Made

May 8th, 2012

This blog post is an essay that forms part of the material in a new Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds.


“Each entered the Forest Adventurous
at the point which he himself had chosen,
where it was darkest and there
was no way or path.”

The Quest For the Holy Grail

- Anonymous 13th Century monk

Once we cross the threshold into the mythic realm of adventure, moving beyond the threshold guardians at the boundary of the safely familiar, we must leave behind a well-worn path that has already been made before us, to enter the forest regions of mullti-dimensional mythic realms.  In this realm, we enter the territory where a previous path does not (and cannot) exist.  We make our own path, as we go.

In this phase of the journey, the distinct feature of the interior world, as well as the external landscape, is the lack of a clear path in front of us.  The clear way is not already laid out for those who undertake a heroic adventure.  Myths unfold over time, little by little.  If we are really paying attention to that unfolding, each little part of the journey can be remarkable.

Joseph Campbell said, “If a path already exists, it is somebody else’s path”.   We have to make our own path as we go; otherwise it is not an adventure.  Then it would be more like a tour.  And if the path is already laid before us, it may be someone else’s best laid plans for us, but not necessarily the path we would want or choose for ourselves.

At first, it may seem easier to take the path already made, for, being already there, it is more certain.  It requires less work or less risk up front.   But for those of us who desire to know our soul’s path, the price for taking the road already made grows steeper, the longer we are on it.   Here is what the Spanish poet Antonio Machado has to say about soul adventure, and how one must travel on a hero’s journey:

Traveler, your footprints are
the road, and nothing else;

pilgrim, there is no road,
the road is made once you walk.

By walking the road is made,
and when looking back
the path is seen that never

will be stepped on again.

Traveler, there is no road,
only ripples on the sea.

– Antonio Machado

Machado’s important message is that we make the road by walking, before we can know where it goes.  This is the heroic action step.  This is an essential component of the unfolding hero’s journey: going where you have not gone before, without knowing the way in advance.

Disorientation:
Coming Undone in Service of Finding A Deeper Orientation

Many of us become more troubled and confused when we try to solve problems from the same level of awareness that created them.  We defensively strike out in new directions to get away from something old, not to genuinely venture towards something new.

This is a real problem, because we often try to change without going through the more difficult phase of a transition – coming undone.  Before we can authentically take up a new way of living, we have to undo something old first.  In fact, crossing the threshold guarantees that something in us is about to come apart from that to which we have been attached.  We have to withstand the ambiguity of the relief as well as the distress we feel as we detach from the familiar.

Who among us does well with coming apart?  How do we have faith that once we come apart, we will fall together in new ways?

Leaving behind the striving towards cherished goals, setting aside the successes and rewards of what we are already accustomed to or good at, and dropping the plan that we have clung to – this undoes something fundamental in us.   This deep level of letting go in the psyche can be quite unnerving to experience.  When we encounter this degree of undoing, we appreciate why people never bother to cross the threshold into adventure to begin with.

Another one of Campbell’s aphorisms, one that is self-evident, goes like this:  “What you cannot experience positively, you will experience negatively.”

We have to be willing and able to purposely wander from the already made path.   We need the ego strength necessary to tolerate the feeling of ‘lostness’, if we are going to have successful encounters during our adventures and ordeals.   We have to find a positive, open-minded way to become lost, so that we don’t experience the existential panic that can take over, once we begin to realize that we have no idea where we are, or where we are going.  For the hero, that very realization is the thing the really gets the adventure under way.

David Wagoner, a poet from the Northwest, has a poem that was inspired by a teaching story from the Native Americans of the Northwest.  They taught this to their young ones, so they would know what to do, and how to be, if they ever found themselves lost in the woods.

His poem was the very first poem that I actually “heard”; it awakened in me a deep fascination and love with the spoken word.  It was a moment in time 25 years ago, one that I will never forget, and often recall.  I was in Cleveland, Ohio, at the time, immersed in my Gestalt therapy training.  It was recited by a newly emerging poet at the time, David Whyte.

Annie Dillard, a wonderful American writer, sums up my experience of awakening to poetry like this, “I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment when I was lifted and struck.”  Here is the poem that first struck me, in the earlier years of my journey:

Stand still,
the trees ahead and bushes beside you
are not lost.

Wherever you are is called ‘here’,
and you must treat it like a powerful stranger,
ask permission to know it, and be known.

Listen
the forest breathes, it whispers‘
I have made this place around you,
if you leave it,
you may come back again,
saying ‘Here’.

No two trees are the same to a raven,
no two branches the same to a wren.
If what a tree or a branch doesis lost on you,
then, you are surely lost.
Stand still,
the forest knows where you are,
you must let it
find you.

I want to work more with Wagoner’s poem as an essential teaching for any hero who courageously pursues their soul’s journey, because an authentic journey will inevitably bring on moments of being profoundly lost.  This sense of “lostness” can have a debilitating impact on the psyche.  It begins to undo one’s sense of self, and one’s sense of place in the world, which can elicit a spiraling existential terror.  I know, because 10 years ago, I found myself alone and completely lost in the Adirondack Mountains, in upstate New York.

Stand still,
the trees ahead and bushes beside you
are not lost.

Stand still.  Sometimes the hardest thing in the world to do when one enters the realization of being completely and utterly lost.   Finding the strength of will to slow down, and to do the opposite of one’s tendency to flee, when entering a state of fear.   To slow down enough to become grounded and look beyond one’s self, to study the landscape that can be seen from where one is.  To recognize that ‘the trees ahead and bushes beside you’ have been there for a long time; indeed, they are not lost.

I was visiting with Joseph Jastrab, late one summer season, ten or so years ago.  We decidedly in a rather impromptu fashion  (and in the spirit of adventure) to head for a cherished Vision Quest site, a place where Joseph has quested many, many times, and to where I had been three or four times previously myself.   This site is located in a sacred, pristine nature setting.  I welcomed the chance for another time of solitude on this remote and wild land.

Within a short time we were packed up and off to the mountains of upstate New York, near Keen Valley.  We took enough food and water for a two-day trek, and returned to the base camp area that held indelible memories and deep meaning for the both of us.  We then each ventured each our own way alone, to solo sites that we favored.  Joseph walked with me to help find the way towards my site, up to point where the path disappeared.  We parted ways near some rock ledges I recognized, which would lead me to a high outcropping that exposed a wonderful southern horizon, overlooking the mountains for as far as my eyes could see.

I was in my element, outside of time, and in the eternity of the natural world, one moment at a time.   Living in the here and now, time stretches itself out, and the space between things grows vast and wide.   I watched the sun make its way across the blue horizon; became acquainted with the shrill pitches of various birdsong. I listened to the wind blow through tree branches, breezing through the leaves, which were ever changing in their shades of green.  I saw entire mountain ranges turn golden as sun began its dip towards the western skyline; I felt the dropping temperature cool my skin; listened to the silence that came when the afternoon winds died down into stillness.

The night grew brisk and cold, and the stars gave off the brightness of their shimmering light.  I felt wonderfully alone and at home in the universe, with no other human beings anywhere near my location, nor even knowing of it.  I only knew of one other companion, one mountain range over, sharing in a night of solitude and mystery, gazing upon the same sky as me.

In the morning, it was time to head back to base camp.  There was one particular turn to the left I had to find, as I descended the mountain ridge and approached the rock ledges.  This turn would take me towards a familiar path, and eventually towards base camp.   I never found that left turn.   As I descended, and kept descending, my internal compass began sounding a warning of alarm.  The landscape was kind of familiar, yet there was no opening to the left.  I kept going, and with the passage of time, the woods became thicker and less traversable, and I became increasingly clear that I was lost.


Wherever you are is called ‘here’,
and you must treat it like a powerful stranger,
ask permission to know it, and be known.

The panic and dread of being lost takes us out of the moment.  Panic, in particular, un-grounds us, and further disorients us.  Our mind leaps forward in a spiraling projection of fearful outcomes, causing us to lose sight of our senses.   Feelings of safety and security evaporate into thin air.

Coming back to the moment is what we must be able to do to re-orient more deeply.  To come back to our breathing first, slowing it down.  Slowing down our bodies, our activity.  Stop going in circles.  Actions based on panic usually create useless, futile outcomes.  We must continue to slow down the runaway train of fearful thinking.  Finally, we have to bring our full attention back to our current surroundings.

This profoundly unknown moment and place must begin to become known to us.  We bring our focus back to the here and now, and meet this powerful stranger that is ‘lost’, whether this space is in a literal forest, or in previously un-navigated territories of the psyche.   We must practice ‘losing’ our panicked mind, by coming back to our senses.  By listening.

Listen
the forest breathes, it whispers‘
I have made this place around you,
if you leave it,
you may come back again,
saying ‘Here’.


My first feeling, when I realized how lost I had become, was not fear or panic.  My initial reaction was anger.  I was pissed off that I had missed the turn.  How could I have missed it?  That hadn’t happened to me when I was here before.

Then I was embarrassed.  What would happen if I don’t find my way out of the mountains?   What if I was instead heading deeper into the Adirondacks, without knowing it?  Then people would eventually have to come looking for me.

I took stock of my situation.  Having ‘adventured’ on short notice, I wasn’t planning to explore new areas, thus I did not bring a compass.  On top of that, I had already used my food supply, and most of my water.  And I had no timepiece.  Not good.  And finally, besides not knowing where I was, I had no idea where to go next.   There was no horizon, no orienting point.  The forest had enclosed itself on me.   I could see no clear forward way to navigate, and going back the way I came was no longer clear.   That’s when I could feel a panic rise begin to arise within me.  Then I remembered this particular poem, as well.  I had to take stock, gather myself to myself, and listen inside.   Then, I had to orient to the woods around me.

I took off my backpack, and sat on a felled tree.  I sat still.   I was ‘here’.  I listened.  Could hear the same wind as yesterday moving through the trees. There was a busy little chipmunk scurrying about, apparently not lost.   I listened inside, felt into what I knew.  I knew to walk in the same direction as much as possible, and I knew to find water, and follow the water.  Water always leads to an opening somewhere.

I became aware of my vulnerability.   Being alone and with no first aid kit, I couldn’t afford to get hurt this deep in the wild.  I walked as mindfully as I could, while paying attention to whatever I could orient myself toward. I kept looking for an opening, hoping to find the sun in the sky. I kept looking for water.  I was finding none of those things.

I was in a foreboding landscape.  Time and time again, as nothing was opening up, and as I was making my way through dense brush with no path, I could feel my fear rise up.  Each time, I kept coming back to ‘here’.   I worked to get okay inside.  I spoke kindly to myself.  At times, I sang soulful journeying songs that I knew.  I kept checking inside with my internal sense of things.  I was both purposefully walking and cluelessly wandering; I could not afford the luxury of panic in this unsteady terrain.

I walked in this manner for what felt like a very long time.  It couldn’t have been more than three or fours hours, but with no horizon, like when one is inside a cave, time is eternal.   I kept being decisive in my walking in one direction, as best I could tell, and I occasionally would sit, rest and breath.  I still had absolutely no idea where I was, where I was headed, or which way would lead me out.  But I kept taking stock: I was alive, and for sure, I was on an adventure.  I was unharmed, I had a tent, warm clothes and a sleeping bag.   And I had inner resources.


No two trees are the same to a raven,
no two branches the same to a wren.
If what a tree or a branch does
is lost on you,
then, you are surely lost.
Stand still,
the forest knows where you are,
you must let it
find you.

Slowing down, continuing to get okay with the ‘lostness’, to become grounded enough in the ‘not knowing’ to orient to one’s present environment and circumstance.  Keep taking stock of conditions, keep listening inside, and sensing into the environment.  Feeling into which way to head next.  If what is happening before us is lost on us, we are truly lost.  Practicing ‘mindfulness’ is a key feature for the hero.  To keep using one’s senses, and not getting lost in one’s head, especially in times of deep uncertainty or not knowing.   Bearing the tension necessary to keep focused.

Then something larger can take over.  The ‘forest’ is a metaphor here for the universe, for divine presence, for that intangible something that is connected to you and me, and can communicate with us.  If we can just embody ourselves enough to deeply listen.  The soul consciousness of our highest self is tracking us.  It knows where we are.  We must let it come to us, let it find its way to us and make itself known to us.

I kept paying attention to whatever clues the heavily wooded and obscured environment would yield to me. Recognizing sunlight breaking through the thick trees was a key.  I was fortunate, as deep and thick into the dark woods as I had wandered, to have a sunny day, even if I could not see it directly.  I could follow the light beams through the trees, moving towards wherever it seemed brighter.  The light gave a hint of a potential opening ahead.  I had to continue until the opening came.   Which, eventually and after much uncertainty and consternation, it did.

I saw ahead a small grassy opening about eight foot in diameter; the sun was shining in there!  This sighting uplifted me.   I made my way to it, and stood on the grass.  The ground was soft and wet underneath me.  Looking closer, I could see that there was some seeping through of water, from an underground source that originated there.  I had found wetness, but did not see any wellspring in or around the green circular marsh.   I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I stood with the sun on my face for a moment, to open up more inside.


The Terrain of Dilemmas

Dilemma – definition – a situation in which a difficult choice has to be made between two or
more alternatives, especially equally undesirable ones.

There is another essential skill to learn on the mythic adventure: Moving beyond our simple problem solving strategies.  What we also find in the forests of our inner lives are dilemmas.   Learning how to handle matters when there is no immediately clear path to follow, no obvious right way to go.  How to address problems with no easy or apparent solution, stay with concerns that require us to face and give attention to the ambiguity, the grey areas in our lives.

Dilemmas require of us to go deeper inside, to wrestle more.  We must cultivate the discipline to stay present with the not knowing, without taking immediate positions, and without taking up just one side of things.  We learn to reflect and wait, to stay the course.  It is similar to how we move through labyrinths.  We go through twists and turns, apparent dead ends, places that show another potential path only once we’ve reached the very end of another, and looked around some.

Soul issues in life get revealed little be little, one step at a time, making the path as we go.  This requires the cultivation of patience at certain unclear points along the hero’s journey.  A fundamental and discerning question one needs to be asking, when seeking the treasures of the soul, is this:  “What is the hurry?” An examination of this question usually reveals an underlying anxiety that has taken root in the journeyer who is driven by the ego’s willful insistence.  This urgency actually gets in the way, and delays the process of self-revelation.

In the world of dilemmas, forcing any immediate solution is like trying to quickly pull your finger out of one of those Chinese finger traps children play with as a gag toy.  Unwitting victims put both index fingers into each end of the trap.   The initial reaction, once your finger is caught in the trap, is to quickly pull your finger out, but this only tightens the trap more.  The solution to being freed from the trap is to push the ends inward toward the middle, which enlarges the openings and frees the fingers, allowing the finger to slowly working themselves out of the trap, so as not to trigger the tightening reflex again.  This is the same working through process for adult dilemmas.

How many of us have been (or are) caught in a dilemma regarding a big decision to be made in one’s life?  To stay in a relationship, or have it end?  To lose weight, or to accept one’s self the way they are?   To take a chance on pursuing a new job opportunity, or stay put in a job that is secure and pays the bills, but is not very satisfying?

Those on a hero’s journey have to learn to participate in an active waiting process, one that is generative, attentive and expectant – yet conversely without the ego’s agenda for a specific expectation or outcome.   This is very hard to do, and sometimes goes against our natural survival instincts.

But without this working towards the uncertain middle, right in the heart of where we feel trapped, despairing or lost – and without the letting go while in the middle of the dilemma – something new cannot come forth from the void, the emptiness, the lostness.  Something new cannot truly be found.   T.S. Eliot gives us a teaching on this necessary medicine of waiting.  Learning to shed our fixed and tight ‘end points’, like a snake sheds its skin, to the surrender of waiting without any push from our individual will:

I said to my soul be still
And let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God.

Wait without hope,
For hope would be hope
For the wrong thing.

Wait without love,
For love would be love
for the wrong thing.

There is yet faith,
But the faith and the love and the hope
Are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought,
For you are not ready for thought.

And so the darkness shall become the light,
And the stillness, the dancing.

– T.S. Eliot


It is noteworthy to see that this working through process, on an emotional and psychological level, is counterintuitive – meaning that the useful response to our trouble is exactly the opposite of one’s initial emotional reaction or psychological position with something!   This is another very important awakening to happen upon.  In many areas of adult life, we encounter dilemmas.  We first learn what not to do, when caught in a true dilemma.  This is why waiting is so essential.  In the beginning, we learn how not to make things worse.

On our Hero’s Journey wilderness intensives, we sometimes work with rappelling over the side of a cliff’s edge.  It provides a wonderful teaching opportunity to practice the exact opposite of our survival tendencies, when coming a very real ‘edge’ of anything substantial in our lives.

An instructor provides the support and safety backup on a roped and harnessed belay system, while we as the journeyer support ourselves with the same safety set up.   We experience what happens inside when we come to the literal edge of a cliff.  We slow down, we breathe into the fear we feel in our physical bodies.  We learn to shift the energy of fear towards a mobilized excitement, working through the inner obstacles that interfere with this process.

As we mobilize ourselves, we go over the cliff’s edge, slowly and mindfully.  One step at a time, gradually relaxing our grip on the rope, letting it slide through our fingers, so we can descend safely, while becoming enlivened, excited, joyful.

The obstacle to our progress on the rappel, is our reflexive clinging to security.  We  cling to the side of the cliff, want to stay close to the solid rock.  To a survival mindset, this makes perfect sense.  But the more we move towards the rock, the more vertical our body becomes, causing us to lose traction, making us more likely to fall into the open space around and below.

When we can move counter-intuitively away from the rock, we push against and into it with our feet.   We tolerate how far away from the rock and how exposed our head and upper body feels.  This creates the necessary traction to be grounded in a new posture, one that is very effective for solid footing, and an enjoyable descent along the rock surface, while feeling airborne and fluid as we walk down the rock, opening space all around us, and most definitely within us!

The Path and Paradox of Wandering

One more way to work through a dilemma, when it is time to stop trying to solve it or get out of it, is to take a wanderer’s point of view.  We walk towards the middle of the issue – not away from it.  We do this by using various serpentine, side-to-side motions and actions, with no attachment to the outcome, to see what comes next…

Remember the aphorism once more that ‘what we do not experience positively, we will experience negatively’.  As a soul practice, we purposefully practice the art of wandering, in order to be lost in the most positive and enjoyable sense.   We allow ourselves to cease our strivings, ambitions and plans, in order to let serendipity create the opportunities for us, as it will.  This can be a very useful, gentle and non-threatening way to disengage from our routines and ruts in life.

When we consciously let ourselves wander, we are purposely agenda-less, while also walking with awareness. We notice things not normally observed when our eyes are fixed on the goal straight ahead of us.  We practice looking sideways at things.  We soften our gaze, letting things stand out on their own from the background of life, as and when they do.

This is helped along if we can embrace the spirit of play, a light-heartedness, which in turn encourages one to be less ambitious and more circuitous as one makes their way as they go.

Somehow, the small wet patch of grass, and the ability to look straight up at a small piece of blue sky felt like a blessing, and it gave me a sense of relief.  But I still couldn’t find the water source.  I took off my backpack, and simply wandered around the area for a bit.   A short distance away, I came across a small crevasse in the ground, and saw that water was coming out from the earth, in a small downhill trickle.   Sure enough, as I continued to walk along and follow the water, it grew a little wider, flowed a little stronger.  I had the beginnings of a water trail to follow!

So I grabbed my pack and I did just that, buoyed by this turn of fate.  Even though the terrain was narrow and rugged, and filled with fallen obstacles, I could follow the flow.   The small trickle of water continued to gain in volume.   Now, I felt like I was going somewhere, though I still had no idea where.  I just kept remembering that water always goes somewhere, as all rivers lead to the sea.

The water flow began to take the form of a mountain stream.  The water made its beautiful gurgling sounds, as only moving water does.  I climbed over fallen tree limbs, maneuvered around boulders, passing all the obstacles in the water.  Now I was on a trek, and happy just to be able to move along, watching the stream growing in breadth and depth.  The forest setting itself was starting to feel familiar to me, but with what I had just been through, I couldn’t really yet trust my sense of vision.

I suddenly saw up ahead a man in the middle of the stream.  I was never so glad to come upon a fellow traveler!   As I grew closer, the man seemed neither concerned nor interested that a stranger was walking towards him alongside the stream.  His indifferent demeanor tempered my jubilance.  In fact, it had me wondering about just what kind of guy I had happened upon, staring intently at his fly-fishing pole in the water.

I called out to him, and asked him where I was, and how far it was to the main road.   He concisely confirmed my suspicions about my whereabouts, and went about his fishing.   I joyfully went on, gradually finding my way back to a path well known to me, and I found my way back to base camp, where Joseph had been waiting for me, wondering if he should begin to head out on a search for me.  No need, for now I had been found.  His patient waiting was the thing to do.


What I can say about my being temporarily lost deep in the Adirondacks is this – when I came out of the lost situation, I found that I could reflect back on my frightening and enlivening ordeal enough to realize how I had found inner resources I could draw from.  I now know that I can and will draw from these inner resources again, when facing deep adversity with no apparent immediate way out.

In closing, the point I wish to make is that the forests of adventure are not places we want to be so eager to get out of.  Nature is alive, filled with mystery and presence.  The forest is a place that we want to be at home in, a place in which to find our true selves.

Wendell Berry speaks to what can happen if we can rest in the midst of nature’s wildness and silence:

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
Where I left them, asleep like cattle…

Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
And the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.

Entering the forest, and departing from the path already made, opens us to adventures meant just for us, which would not come forth otherwise.   Adventure does not find its way to us while we are caught up in the trance of our well-worn routines.   Here’s to the next life-giving adventure awaiting you.

The forest knows where you are.  Let it find you.

Your own soul made the path of adventure which awaits you.  Let it come to you.

- Michael Mervosh

Walking In Two Worlds: Essay #3 – Crossing the Threshold: Back and Forth Across the Doorsill

April 24th, 2012

This blog post is an essay  that forms part of the material in a new Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds.

“Do exactly what you would do if you felt most secure.”

-Meister Eckhart

Threshold: defined – the magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result, or condition to occur or be manifested.

“If the call is heeded, the individual is invoked to engage in a dangerous adventure.  It’s always a dangerous adventure because you’re moving out of the familiar sphere of your community…I call this crossing the threshold.  This is the crossing from the conscious into the unconscious world, but the unconscious world is represented in many, many different images…It may be a plunge into the ocean, it may be a passage into the desert, it may be getting lost in a dark forest, it may be finding yourself in a strange city…but this is the adventure – it’s always the path into the unknown, through the gateway or the cave or the clashing rocks…The idea in the hero adventure is to walk bodily through the door into the world where the dualistic rules don’t apply.”

-       Joseph Campbell, Hero With a Thousand Faces.

“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you,
don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.”

-       Rumi

Joseph Campbell’s engaging prose begins this essay for us, followed by Rumi’s invitation to go back and forth across the threshold where two worlds touch.  We start with a reflection on the opening lines of his poem.  A call to awakening is a call to pay close attention.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you,
don’t go back to sleep.


He tells us that if we can pay close attention to the breeze as it passes by us in the early morning hours, as the sun begins to bring forth the light of day – then we can pay attention in the same way to what is happening within the landscape of our own inner being.  If we can focus our senses on the subtle nuances of what is taking place in the natural world before us, during those hours when many of us are still asleep – then we can pay attention to what is moving through our psyches as well.

If we pay close attention, we can allow that which usually remains buried in the unconscious ground of our being  (what many never wake up to) to begin to slip forth into our awareness – like a light breeze brushing against our skin.

Don’t go back to sleep. Rumi implores us to stay attentive throughout his poem.  Don’t get too distracted.  Don’t become too sedated, or overflowing with anxiety.  Don’t get lost in aimlessness and rumination, or the endless details of mental thinking.  Come back to your senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste.  Keep paying attention by sensing into what is really happening, right now, in this life.   Don’t be caught up in the illusions of the mind, mistaking it for what is real.

You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.

The call to adventure is about listening for what we most desire in this life.  The call is towards that which we must do, or become.  We must have access to our sacred longing, so we can move towards what we really want, so we can take up the hero’s adventure.  We must ask for what we really want.

We self-activate by accessing the energy we have locked up in the core of our being; the activation is brought on by the asking.  We have to ask others for help. We petition the gods, our highest and best self, and divine intercessors.   We must petition our own soul’s desire for assistance – that which has brought us here, seeing to this very incarnation we have undertaken.   Our purpose and our fulfillment lie in knowing what we really value, what we can give our very lives to.   We must ask for this, even when  (or especially when) we don’t know what it is yet.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.

For me, this is a powerful line in Rumi’s poem.  Those who are awakening are going back and forth across the threshold between the mundane tasks of this world, and the sacred encounters with what is eternal in the ‘other’ world, beyond this one.  People are walking in two worlds.

We are these people. This is what many of us really want.   We want to find that place where the world of spirit and the world of matter touch; we want more than anything to go back and forth from here to beyond here, then from that place, to here.

Many of us learned as young children that if we were good, we would one day go to heaven.  We also were taught that if we were bad, we would go to hell forever when we died.   Many of us have carried these deep-seated beliefs forward throughout our lives, even if as adults we became less convinced of a literal final Judgment Day event, where duality is the determinant for our final destination.

What many of us are awakening to today is the scientifically validated, cosmological reality that heaven and hell are not literal places we go to when we die.  For where in the literal cosmos are they actually located?  Rather, they are states of consciousness that are ever-present, right here in this world.   When we are in harmony with our true selves and with the world around us; when we experience the awe of unfolding mystery; when we encounter various and sublime states of love – we go the place in us that is heaven.

Conversely, when we are locked in anxious or depressive states, compulsive addictions or fear-based, hostile ruminations, we feel despairingly unable to access loving states of being.  We are in these ways cast out of God’s loving presence.  We feel unworthy of the love of others.  We are in hell.   (This reminds me of a popular aphorism I have often heard: religion helps those who are afraid of going to hell, and spirituality helps those who have already been there.)

When we feel imprisoned by what ails us, sense no way out, nor perceive any viable or meaningful future, we will not be able to see any open doors before us in this life.  This leaves us no other option than to hope for the attainment of heaven in the next life.  But here, Rumi tells us that there is a doorway in this world, and it leads to the one beyond this one, and it is round and open.  It is accessible to us, now, if we can learn how to cross the threshold.

The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.

The big questions here, the ones that take us towards our essential ‘quest’ adventure, are the ones that causes us to search for the door that leads to the other world – while we are still in this one.  Where did I come from?  Where I am going? What am I supposed to do doing?

How do we find a threshold door between the worlds?  What makes the doorsill open for us, and what allows us to pass through and into what lies beyond it?

What if the door between this world and the other world, the one filled with wonder, mystery and adventure, is to be found right where our most troublesome obstacles, barriers and issues are located?

What makes a boundary shift from an obstruction to an opening?

Thresholds are important markers along the territories of our interior regions as well as our external landscapes.  They create distinct boundary delineations.  They create contrast; differentiating and distinguishing the territories on either side of the marking.  They also inform us that important is happening.  The crossing point is a ritual of recognition, an awareness that something is about to change.

Reminiscing back over my own travel history, I can recall some very distinct border crossing experiences, made especially noteworthy due the vast differences between the country of departure and the country of entry.  Going from the California border in the US, and crossing over into Mexico.  Going from Gibraltar into Morocco.   Crossing into (the former) Yugoslavia from Austria.

One distinct feature of border crossings such as these is that you pay more attention than you were paying before you approached the border.  There are armed guardians in the uniforms of military personnel; identity and passport checks; sometimes a thorough vehicle search.  There is a noteworthy change in mood, in language, in customs and social protocols, and perhaps even the literal terrain.

Let’s turn now to the poetry of David Whyte, as we return to one of the fundamental tasks required of the hero, the one who responds to the inner call to adventure.  We must let go of something very fundamental and familiar.  We must let go of that which we already know, and perhaps know too well, before we go any further.

In this high place
It is as simple as this,
Leave everything you know behind.

A ‘high place’ represents a place above and beyond where we typically go in our lives.   It is a metaphor for ascending to a heightened state of consciousness.   In order to arrive here, we have to take up a simple and sometimes very daunting task:  Leave everything you know behind. If you already know something (especially if you think you already know an outcome in advance), there is no adventure in that, and certainly no learning anything new.

Joseph Campbell often emphasized this fact.  He said, “One way to deprive yourself of an experience is indeed to expect it.  Another is to have a name for it before you have the experience.”

This devalues and distances us from lived experience, which is necessary for the humility, awe and respect to be had for the proper sense of adventure, and all that which is sacred.  Sacredness does not wish to be subject to our ego wishes, nor to our control.  Rilke says that ‘what is Eternal does not want to be bent by us’.   So, leaving something behind, particularly those things to which we have been attached and by which have been bound, is part of the entry fee into the realm of adventure.

Step toward the cold surface,
Say the old prayer of rough love
And open both arms.

We all know this distinct moment in time – the shivering chill of bodily sensation, standing before the cold surface of a body of water – right before we walk or plunge in.  Perhaps you can recall standing at the edge of a diving board at a swimming pool, or at the edge of the sandy beach, with the seawater moving in over your feet.  Time slows down for an instant; we may stand at this threshold for a while.  The ‘old prayer of rough love’ is the encouragement we say to ourselves, in order to go forth into the water, knowing how it will disrupt our kinesthetic comfort level.  We will abruptly feel sensation on our skin very different from our current state, once we enter the water.  But that is also the very reason why we want to enter the water, as well!   We go in to have a lived experience in our bodies, feeling the changing state of our being, as we do.  Some experience this as exhilaration.

In order to transit, to move into and through the water, we must know what we really want. We must open our arms to swim.  We must open our minds to change and grow.  We must open our hearts to love, and be loved, and do what we love.  We need a sense of buoyancy for both swimming and loving.

Those who come with empty hands
Will stare into the lake astonished,
There, in the cold light
Reflecting pure snow

The opportunity for the hero is to travel as lightly as possible as he or she crosses a threshold.   Empty hands are the metaphorical image for having to let go of something that has been held onto, or held back.  Letting go of fears, worries, and obsessive thinking.   Letting go of old habits, fixed ideas, broken ideals.   Letting go of expectations- another challenge for may of us.  There is something that I watch many people cling to for dear life, regardless of whether or not it serves their life – the challenge of letting go of sameness.

Those who find the courage to let go, when sameness no longer serves life, but instead constricts and confines it, requires us enter into a vulnerability that opens us.  One that allows for awe, even astonishment, to enter.  Something can suddenly penetrate into awareness – ‘clarity’ – an appropriate metaphor for ‘cold light’.   Something clean, clear and enlightening can now come in, like a refreshing swim in a saltwater ocean.   Newness, going beyond sameness, can feel just like that.

The true shape of your own face.

This is what awaits us as we successfully cross a long-bound limit, or a threatening threshold.  It puts us in touch with an essential sense of true-ness, of right relationship, where we feel like we are becoming ourselves again (or like never before). We become something beyond the society’s expectation and demand of us.

Before we can arrive at the true shape of our essential nature, we have to learn how to recognize, face and cross over many threshold points, over and over again, finding a way to move beyond thresholds that have previously been only obstacles to us.

*  Facing Our Threshold Guardians *

Crossing the threshold always involves going from the conscious world to the unconscious world; going from what you know, to what you don’t (yet) know. This inevitably requires us to confront the deep-seated fears and lifelong belief systems that have both contained and confined us.  It is often our fate to face the fears we are most strongly identified with, and thus most strongly bound by.

Our most natural instinct is to be physically or emotionally contained when we are afraid – we look to be held, literally or psychically, by another.  We seek out security, something or someone to stabilize us when we are shaken by life.  Fears that linger and lurk over time work their way down into our unconscious terrain, and disappear from our awareness.  From deep down below, they control us in such a way that we become willing to be confined, constricted and even imprisoned by them, sometimes in the most peculiar and irrational ways.

In the realm of myths, we encounter ‘Threshold Guardians’.  They are the watchers and keepers of the established bounds. These creatures are personifications and representations that stand for the limits of our old fears, wounds, belief systems, and worldviews.  Joseph Campbell said it like this: “The powers of the psyche that keep watch at the boundary are seen as dangerous, and to confront them feels risky; yet for anyone with competence and courage the danger fades.”

Campbell went on to say that they show us “the ambiguities of this perplexing passage”; the fears will “recede before a genuine psychological readiness; the over-confident adventurer  (in over his or her head) may be shamelessly undone.”

The hero task is to go inward, to find and face the specific psychic powers that holds one back from venturing.  There is an emblematic scene that personifies and plays out this task in the Star Wars trilogy: Luke has to confront his fears of becoming a Jedi Knight.  He enters into the dark passage of a cave, not knowing the way through, or even the way out.  He is then confronted by the image of Darth Vader, his ‘dark father’.

Vader represents all the soul-killing expectations and requirements of society upon each of us: participation in activities that offer rewards of success, prestige and promotion, but they cost us our souls, rendering us into darkness.  Luke has to fight with this dark internalized aspect of himself – the aspect that fights against his own nature – in order to pass through the threshold limits within, before he can fulfill the destiny that was meant for him.

Another way to understand the threshold guardians of mythic adventure is to recognize them as gatekeepers for our integrity and authenticity.   No one gets a ‘free ride’ when it comes to journeying into soul consciousness.   We all must be willing to face what hold us back honestly, and even be willing to bring the fears with us, once we are conscious of them.  In this way, our fears can eventually become our allies, giving us the needed motivation and energy to move forward towards our most sought after pursuits with humility, and respect for our humanity.

What is the primary ‘threshold guardian’ in your present life?  What is the fear that keeps you bound beyond good and healthy containment for you?   What keeps you bound to your same-ness and small-ness?   Can you risk confronting the internal aspect of yourself that obstructs your path?


Let’s return to more of Rumi’s teaching to learn about another essential hero task for crossing the threshold into the soul’s adventure: the willingness to become whole-hearted in our efforts.  Here, Rumi offers us his version of a threshold guardian: fierceness of heart.

Gamble everything for love,
If you’re a true human being.
If not, leave this gathering.

Meaningful adventure cannot be entered with one’s head.  Those who try to approach a soul journey with their reason fail miserably, and soon.  The gamble Rumi speaks of is really no gamble at all, but it does involve a sense of risk.  Security seeking, in the end, becomes the final danger for the hero.  It is on the low end of the evolutionary scale, and it is can be a contrary aim for a heroic endeavor.  There is a definite time and place for playing it safe, and for being reasonable.  But it will not be found in the mythic realm of adventure.

So the next toll to be paid to the gatekeeper, in order to cross the threshold, is a wholehearted, fiercely loving presence.   Those without it turn back in the face of threat, danger or intensity.  The fierce looking guardian says to us – ‘get behind your heart, get real, be a vital human being living from your own experience, or go back from where you came – go back home’.   If you are caught up in abstractions, conceptualizations, or mental gymnastics, you can’t pass through.   You are simply someone confusing the menu with the meal.

Half-heartedness doesn’t reach into majesty.

This is one of Rumi’s lines that I read long ago, and have remembered ever since. Much of the tiredness and exhaustion we see in people today have to do with the very matter of half-heartedness.   It is often not only due to overwork, it has more to do with a lack of heart in one’s efforts.  Half-hearted efforts are often more fatiguing than no effort at all.  It is like driving a car with a bad fuel mix in the engine.

We also have to look deeply at the oppositional and life-negating forces at work deep within us. We must examine more closely our inner contradictions, seeing how one half of our heart works against the other half.  We have to work this through inside ourselves, and find a bridge across these contradictions.  Otherwise, we will not have the energy necessary to move through the buffeting cross currents and tension-filled challenges brought forth in our external world.   This is an internal dynamic we must all wrestle and reconcile with on the hero’s path to adventure.

You set out to find God,
But then you keep stopping for long periods
At mean-spirited roadhouses.

Rumi gives us more of his fierce guardian’s message.  We set out on the adventure many times without a strong and grounded foundation, a clear intention, and the necessary inner resources to propel us forward – essential in order to tolerate the forests of what is unknown.  We get diverted by continuous distractions; get caught up in endless roadhouses of trivial self-concerns.  They pre-occupy us at best, and consume us at worst.

We become mean-spirited due to our passive dependency on the familiar: the people, places and things in our lives that we over-depend on to bring forth life force energy, which can ultimately only come from within, and which will only come from a certain whole-hearted tenacity and fierceness.

Up until this point, we are still in charge of the journey, still in control of the outcome.   You can still say yes or no to proceeding.   But there is a certain internal compass point one feels when one crosses a threshold.  Something inside says ‘this is the point of no return’. After crossing over this point, whoever goes forward from here, will not be coming back.

Of course, I may return, but no longer as the ‘I’ that I have known, or that others have known.  The hero somehow senses he or she will becomes more aligned with something larger than one’s self, and ‘other than’ one’s self – the one that has not yet come into being.  That unknown and unknowing ‘I’ will be more and more the driver of our future existence.

Juan Jimenez, the Spanish a sailor and poet, speaks of this soul aspect of self in a most worthy way.   This is the one we take the adventure with, who accompanies us into the mythic realms, and will return with us when the time comes.  This is the part of the self that is identified with soul:

I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,

whom at times I manage to visit,
and at other times I forget.
The one who remains silent when I speak,

the one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
the one who takes a walk
when I am indoors,

the one who will remain standing
when I die.


The Journey Now Takes You

Until we have faced our buried fears and beliefs about the reality that confines us to a stifling sameness and smallness; until we have aligned with a fierce, wholehearted effort-making that is more than just willful determination; and until we have surrendered into a open-armed posture of “Yes” to life as it unfolds – we are not yet ready to fully answer the call to adventure.   But if we can respond with a joyful heart, with a certain humility, and with a willingness to embrace the ambiguous and mysterious nature of a ‘zone unknown to us’, we are ready to commit ourselves to the adventure journey.

Once we make a true commitment to the journey, we can surrender ourselves over to it.  The journey now takes us. Our task will be to yield, to go for the ride, to be pulled into the adventure – sometimes triumphantly, sometimes failing miserably.  We just need to remember that it is not how we fall; it is about how we get back up.   Either way, we will now be taken by the journey.  As Campbell said, ‘you only have to say yes, and doors will begin to open, that would not open before, and in fact, will not open for anyone else’.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.  Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.  A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

Whatever you can do,
Or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius,

Power and magic in it.

-        Goethe

Once we have given ourselves over fully to the adventure, we begin to enter the realm of myth, where metaphor and ambiguity rule the terrain, and simplistic black and white thinking falls away, is of no use.

We now approach interior spaces that are symbolically represented by dark forests, wide-open desert plains, vast mountain regions, deep ocean waters and dark underground caves.  By moving beyond judging states (either towards one’s self or towards the world around us) we return to a child’s heart, capable of wonder, surprise and delight.

Here, we are be moved by things, caught up in raptures, enter into full participation with whatever is taking place in front of us.  The German sage and poet Rilke reminds us of this early childhood capacity.  He encourages us to make use of it now, as we move out beyond the boundaries of the familiar, and open up to not knowing what lies ahead.

We come to accept that we cannot predict nor control what comes next for us on our adventure, any more than we could predict what dream we will have tonight.  But we can begin to imagine possibilities where they did not exist before, and we can move beyond our own familiar bounds, building the great arch of previously unimagined bridges, beyond opposing forces, sides, and polarities.

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over many chasms early on,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Once we begin to come into an awareness that goes past duality, we find ourselves on solid ground somewhere in between and beyond the pairs of opposites. Here we are susceptible to various states of wonder, curiosity, and intrigue.  This is the pathway towards bliss.

Wonders happen if we can succeed
in passing through the harshest danger;
but only in a bright and purely granted
achievement can we realize the wonder.

It is a remarkable achievement indeed to move beyond over-simplification, our reactionary judgments and oppositional, contentious attitudes, now instead being able to explore what our truly lived experiences and authentic responses are towards the life happenings taking place all around us.  

To work with things when building the association
beyond words is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
and being swept along is not enough.

To understand the inner realms of vitality and mystery is to move beyond associations with words.  We don’t become mesmerized by the menu, and confuse it with the meal.  We can enter the fullness and satisfaction of mysteries that lead us to ecstatic states, where ‘words turn back’.   We no longer wish to be swept along by events that happen in our lives.  We instead want to help shape the tides, influence others in positive ways, leave our mark upon the adventure, contribute something that matters, and shift the bounds of fate towards a realizable destiny.

But we have to be willing to live with complexity and paradox in order to do so.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the abyss between two
opposing poles.  Because inside human beings
is where God learns.

As we pass the threshold crossing of our limited ego identifications and polarizing states of duality, and practice the power of such a spanning, we begin to rise above the abyss of ignorance, contention and shortsightedness.  We span limitations that have kept us bound to the same issues, the same patterns, in the same way, over and over again.

It is here that we discover that our by facing our obstructions we are actually creating the means for our personal transformation – and this is how you know you have made the passage through the threshold.

This bridging happens within us, and we are carried to new states of consciousness, new energy sources within, new insights that reveal a personal insight and universal connection.  We have entered the realm of adventure.

We begin to do exactly what we would be doing, if we felt most secure.

Living the adventure of our life’s time, and riding wave after wave of unfolding realizations, living more and more into the privilege of being who we truly are.  Up ahead lie challenging ordeals.  Soon we will need to understand how our Allies and Synchronicity work with us, in order to do so.

For now, we experience the wonder of moving past obstacles, and crossing over thresholds.

- Michael Mervosh

Walking In Two Worlds: Essay #2 – The Call to Adventure: Taking Up The Journey

April 10th, 2012

This blog post is an essay  that forms part of the material in a new Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds. For more information, or to enroll in the course, click here. Registration for the course ends Sunday April 15th!

Adventure: defined – a daring and exciting activity calling for enterprise and enthusiasm.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began
though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice-

though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations-
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.

- Mary Oliver

Joseph Campbell said that in the Western world, we have both the freedom and the obligation of finding out what our destiny is.  So what do we do if we want to find out what our personal myth is, while we are in the midst of living it?  And why don’t we?   Could it be as simple as this – that we’ve become over-attached to the security of what is familiar, and how we are provided for?   That we’ve become afraid about growing up and going out into the unknown-ness of the world?  That we’ve avoided a certain kind of leave-taking from the confines of the couch, of comfort, of “home”?   So we don’t have to ever really go forth, out and into the world, and begin gathering of our own resources to ourselves, and do the work of searching for these resources in the depths within ourselves?


In the book Pathways to Bliss, Campbell poses questions such as this:  “What is the great thing for which you would sacrifice your life?  What makes you do what you do?  What is the call of your life to you – do you know it?

He goes on to say, “a person who is truly gripped by a calling, by a dedication or a belief, by a certain zeal, will sacrifice his (or her) security, personal relationships, prestige.  He (or she) will give themselves entirely to their personal myth”.  He also acknowledges, “it is not always easy or possible to know by what it is that we are seized”.   But it does require of us to become increasingly fascinated, and thus decreasingly threatened, with the arrival of some kind of mystery.

So what is that unconscious, intangible thing that has us feeling a peculiar, compelling inner ‘pull’ towards a certain place, activity or desire?  What is that un-graspable, subtle sense of awakening we feel in certain circumstances, or in particular nature settings?   And how is it that we find ourselves caught in repetitive, fated patterns or situations, again and again?   How does a certain ‘something’ seem to cleave to us certain troubles or problems that our conscious minds and bodies have to face, explore and eventually, resolve?

We are often haunted by this ongoing play of fate and destiny in our adult lives. We find ourselves wondering what our true place is in the material universe, we seek to know our purpose, and we long for a vital connection to something larger than ourselves.   But it is rarely found in the terrain of the familiar, preordained course.

In order to adhere to a call to adventure, we have two fundamental and complimentary tasks: leaving home and venturing forth.  We loosen our grip on the familiar, while turning our compass heading towards the unknown, and the various elements of risks that must be undertaken in the realm of the unknown.

Let’s turn our attention now to one of Mary Oliver’s most well known poems, The Journey:

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began

This poem’s beginning implies the end of something else.  One day. Before that, there was all the time it took, everything you had to go through, what you endlessly endured.  Before you finally knew what you had to do.  Needless to say, this can take up most of a lifetime, or at least it feels that way.  All this, before the One day arrives.

We wade through fears, confusion, doubts, despair, ambiguity, trepidation, numbness, failures, fogginess, anxiety, low energy  – and then – more of the same.  These are the many different necessary and negative facets that can stem from a common denominator: not knowing. Then, there is it’s antecedent well as, which is not knowing what to do.

The introduction of this poem is like the first words (actually, the third verse) from Genesis in the Bible: “And then there was light.”  But what preceded “In the beginning”, how long did that take, and what was really going on before the light came on?   What was happening in that void of universal darkness?  Which takes us once again back to the unknowable, the unknown.  On a hero’s journey, all roads eventually lead here.

Rumi speaks of this in the beginning of the Coleman Barks’ rendition of Who Says Words With My Mouth?

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?

I have no idea.

My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,

and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.

This drunkenness, this lack of clarity of vision and purpose, it began somewhere else.  Even the mystics often have no idea.  I think the difference between the mystics and us is, the lack of knowing troubles them less.  Perhaps they even aim for that place.

When we are troubled by the unknowing, we become restless and anxious.  When we are bound to anxiety, we become less and less able to listen.  And when we can’t listen within ourselves, we can’t hear what calls to us.

What else keeps us from listening for the next call?  I have been occupied by a great deal of wondering about this very thing.  I have come to the conclusion that many of us are unwilling to do what it takes to get close enough to ourselves, and deep enough within ourselves, to really listen.  Yet this inner descent and inner space making is what is needed, so that we become more able to listen to what is down there in the depths, waiting to be heard.


For those of us willing and able to arrive at a quiet, centered, still place inside, we may be looking and listening for something in particular, searching for the projection of our ego’s wishes.  Joseph Campbell says, “One way to deprive yourself of an experience is indeed to expect it.  Another is to have a name for it before you have the experience.”  Thus, we are unable to hear or see what is actually arriving and making itself known within our interior worlds.  We are preoccupied with a fantasy created by our own wishes and projections, and looking for the perfect match for that, and in the process, we lose sight of everything else.

Another way to look at this is to see that we are unconsciously looking to have our call to adventure magically provided for us, in the way and form we desire.  We want it packaged all at once, and with a ‘literal’ clarity:  Actual voices, delivering the message word by word; crystal clarity of vision, with everything we need clearly revealed.

In other words, we want our interior life to look and sound just like our exterior world. We become ‘fundamentalists’ of the soul.  We make the mistake of taking our dreams, imaginings, and inner calls all too concretely, historically, and literally.  We fail to see the mythic or metaphorical energies underneath it all, that which drives the creation of the symbols, images and words we sense within us.

If we are to listen deeply to an inner call to adventure, we have to learn to accept the initial dreamlike state of awareness that comes, pay attention to our night dreams, and respect our creative imaginings during guided meditations or creative visualizations.  Then few have to do the work of the meaning making underneath the symbols, stories, people or words we encounter.  The heroic adventure begins with listening to the soul’s call to adventure, and the soul, most of the time, is a subtle herald.

So, the call to adventure is often very gentle and fleeting, at least, at first.  It is when we don’t listen that the messenger comes much louder, and sometimes comes with a blunt thud.

So the paradox here is that once we can accept the condition of our not knowing, we can open up a space inside to begin paying attention more deeply, more subtly.  We can start to orient ourselves to what is actually already there. This is a different way of being, in which we shift from a searching consciousness, which is needed to take up the journey, to a finding consciousness, which explores the deeper terrains of where one currently is located within their interior.

The unknown aspects of the self will feel foreign to the self, at first.  A “not me” feeling. There is no way around it, just many ways to avoid it.

Going from searching to finding is helped along by a neutral and open transition space within the self.  I would call this open, unrecognized, unrealized space not-yet-ness. It implies that something will inevitably happen, even though that has not yet happened.  This is a crucial shift in conscious one has to make.  If one can only take up the waiting more positively, more actively, with curiosity, and even a sense of play, something will inevitably begin to happen, that hasn’t happened thus far.  This is because something is already happening, and we have not yet become aware of it.

Tom Petty portrays this popular struggle in his song ‘The Waiting’. He wails out in the refrain, “the waiting is the hardest part!” As a modern culture, we are less and less inclined to wait for anything anymore, mostly because we often no longer have to.  Our modern culture is one that values and is built upon the notion of speed.  But speed doesn’t often help with our heroic venturing.   For the soul’s journey, active waiting is a necessary function that must be cultivated within, and practiced over and over, to in order to support the gradual realization of a lifelong destiny.

I am reminded of a humorous story in this regard, one that took place during a men’s Hero’s Journey wilderness intensive some years back.   A member of our stewarding team ventured out for a day of solitude, and took himself out for a solitary Medicine Walk.  His intention was to cultivate more patience for himself; he wanted to learn how to wait. It was a hot, sunny summer day, so he took an umbrella along.  He also took along an old briefcase filled with carving knives, so he could whittle away at some wood when he felt so inclined, while waiting.  But he mostly planned to stand in one spot for a long time.

Later on, in the intense heat and sun of a mid-summer’s afternoon, I myself was on a solo Medicine walk, slowly moving through the forests and open fields of our base camp area, high up in the West Virginia mountains.  I suddenly became aware of this curious and peculiar figure up ahead in the landscape, standing in a wide-open field, amidst wildflowers.

I could see that his umbrella was up, providing him with shade from the intensity of the sun.  He was also wearing a straw hat, a Hawaiian shirt, and a pair of shorts.  As I slowly approached, I realized that his boots were off, and his feet were buried in some sandy earth.  This was indeed a peculiar sight, and it added greatly to the impression that he had been standing in one spot for a very, very long time.

Beside him was his briefcase, standing up as well, on the ground.  It gave the appearance of a man standing at a bus stop, waiting for the next bus.  Yet here he was, in the middle of a wildflower field in a mountainous nature setting, many miles from anything resembling a bus stop.  So you might see why I found this to be incredibly funny!   But in the spirit of play, I decided to keep a stiff upper lip, and walk right by him.  I said only one thing to him as I passed.  “Are you waiting for the bus?”   His reply is what had me falling over with laughter. “No,” he said.  “I am waiting for the road!”


See if you can feel what happens within you when you answer this question two different ways on the inside:

Have you found that thing that brings you utterly alive on the inside? No.
Have you found that thing that brings you utterly alive on the inside?
Not yet.

Going from ‘no’ to ‘not yet’ brings the sense of adventure forward, and makes the challenge of venturing into the unknown worthwhile, so that things can then become more interesting.  It implies that something’s coming, eventually.  If you are heading towards the unknown, you will need to practice another word, and use it many times when wandering through an unknown territory:  hmmmmm.

This attitude will inevitably bring us to the point when something fleeting but un-ignorable starts to happen within us, and when something asks us this question again:  “Have you found that thing that brings you utterly alive on the inside?” One day, you eventually find yourself with a surprising and enlivening reply.  Yes.

Perhaps the most humbling awareness, when we are distraught about not knowing something, is the awareness that not knowing is actually an unconscious defense against knowing.   Has that ever occurred to you about your own not knowing?  Searching is often the easy part of the journey, precisely because something has not yet been found.  It is in the finding that the spirit of adventure brings forth the inevitable ordeal.

In the movie No Country for Old Men, Tommy Lee Jones plays a sheriff who has come upon a gruesome murder scene somewhere in the isolated, brown and lonely Texas plains.  Evidence of a drug deal gone bad, very bad.  Not knowing exactly what has gone wrong, the assistant sheriff says to him, “It’s a real mess, ain’t it, sheriff?”  Jones says, “If it ain’t, it will do, until the mess gets here”.   Not knowing will often do, as trouble enough, until the real trouble of knowing arrives.

When we begin to actually hear the call to adventure, the deeper trouble of knowing what is calling to us can really get us started, and we feel the traction as well as the tension of taking up the journey.


though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice

Once we begin to tune into an inner voice, and hear the call towards new life within us, it will always and at some point bump against the voices of those around us.  The voices of people who matter to us, and people who don’t. People whose opinions we value and seek out, and people who annoy us by offering their unsolicited opinions about how we should choose to live our lives.

On the hero’s adventure, advice from another is mostly of no use.  In the same way that following a path already made makes is following somebody else’s path, following advice means that you’re not coming from your own inner source, not following your own life force energy. Therefore, your endeavors are not likely to bear fruit, or take you very far, or hold much meaning, or go very well.

The next challenge for us, once we begin hearing the call from within, is how to not readily abandon it.  How to not trade it in for good advice from someone else.  How many times, when we don’t know what to do with our lives, do we ask someone to please tell us what to do?   It sets us up for a dynamic in which we become unwitting help-rejecting complainers.  Tell me what to do, so I can either: not do that, or do that, then complain about it, especially when it doesn’t seem to be working.

The only advice that has seemed of use to me, when it comes to answering the soul’s calling, is this sage advice I was given: in matters of great importance, listen to my own heart, and follow what I find to be my own bliss.  That doesn’t mean I don’t talk with others about it, or share with those capable of understanding me, or even challenging me.  But there is nothing else we can do if we want meaning and vitality in our lives, but follow our own inner life, and no one else’s.

though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.

If we follow our own inner call to become more alive, to become more than what we already are, we must begin to move out beyond our comfort zone, we start to cross the first threshold.  We leave ‘home’.  As we do, we feel an inner dissonance, feel something going against the grain of the usual way.  We breach the old boundaries, go past our homeostatic tendencies, we sound an inner alarm.  As soon as something starts to go wrong, or others question us or become upset with our movement, we feel panic, doubt and fear. We feel this old tug at our ankles, and our feet stop going forward.  Here we find a reflexive desire to turn back, a desperate need to return to the security that brings forth a same-ness has become stagnant, fixed and constraining.

Here something crucial must become re-established in the psyche of the hero, the one seeking more a meaningful and fulfilling life.  There must be a gradual and undeniable shift in allegiance towards our most basic reality orientation.  In order to better listen to the inner call to adventure, we must shift from security-seeking mode to a vitality-seeking mode.

We must make a shift in consciousness – from the safety we have come to know (which must come first), to the enlivening we desire with all our heart (which must come next).
The call to adventure helps to do exactly that.

Helen Keller makes this point exquisitely.  This poem is from her book, Let Us Have Faith:

Security is mostly a superstition.
It does not exist in nature,
Nor do the children of men
As a whole experience it.
Avoiding danger in no safer
In the long run

Than outright exposure.

Life is either a daring adventure,
Or nothing.
To keep our faces toward change and
Behave like free spirits
In the presence of fate

Is strength undefeatable.


“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.

There is another obstacle that prevents us from listening to, and feeling silently pulled by that which brings us alive, that which we truly love.  This increase in energy and excitement is hard to adjust to, as we feel our own life force energies begin to pour through our bodies in a direct and potent way.  Sometimes, we unconsciously defend against this in-flow of energy, and we do it in a culturally sanctioned way:  We try to fix things.

First we try to fix others.  Many of us “givers” have devoted our lives to care-taking tasks.  One day it strikes us how futile this actually is. (This takes a while to realize.)  We then turn our attention back to correcting ourselves, which is a much more efficient and effective use of our energy and attention.  Except that when we resort back to a mental ‘problem solving’ mode for matters of the heart, it doesn’t work, either.

We begin to chase our tails with mental thinking, or better said, we chase after all of our problems, and think that if we can just fix them all, we will be more okay, if not more alive.  Fixing problems rarely brings more aliveness, though.  It simply provides temporary relief.  Until the next problem comes.  And it does. It says, “Mend my life!” Now we have a mission, a sense of purpose.

The deeper call,” Grow my life!”, is buried beneath all of the surface repairs of a ‘fix-it’ mentality.   The next threshold crossed is a letting go of mending everything, or mending anything, for that matter – so we can go into a deeper state of awareness, beyond mental thinking and problem solving.  Here, we stumble upon a crucial awareness about our world, and more importantly, about our selves.  Nothing’s broken. Well now, what does someone do about that?  New trouble.

At least, it is different trouble. Better trouble. And it leads us, once again, back to the unknown.

You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations-
though their melancholy
was terrible.

If we listen long enough, and aren’t looking to find something in particular, like a lost object – and we instead start looking for what is already there, waiting for us (and only us), we have crossed over into the hero’s mythic realm of adventure.  We listen as a practice, simply to listen, and to hear, feel and sense what comes.  If you stick with this approach, inevitably something enlivening begins to come into awareness.  You start to realize what you have to do.  It simply becomes obvious, and it’s a surprise, at the same time.

The trouble here is, you begin realizing that what you have to do, isn’t what you thought you had to do. You start to see that what you thought you had to do, what you endlessly tried to do, isn’t really the thing to do any more.  (This is one of those ‘oh, shit’ moments, and it is a big one.)  Another threshold to cross.  Letting go of the mind’s incessant demands, obligations, barters, deals, fretting, etc.  Realizing that you have wasted time, energy and resources trying to fix someone else or yourself, hold something together, fit into something that doesn’t really fit you now.  It just doesn’t work.  Perhaps it once did, or never did.  But you have invested yourself in something that no longer bears fruit, or gives life.  Depending on your state of mind, this is really bad news, or really good news.

If we listen to a deep call, we begin to shed what no longer serves life, in order to be pulled towards that which gives new life.  No way around this universal truth.  This brings on grief, and the sense of loss.

As we head towards a new way of sensing, feeling, knowing what we have to do, we move beyond all external motivations, and become driven by a persistent and steady inner energy source.  It just keeps welling up from within.  Keeps us on track, keeps us enlivened, keeps wanting to move our lives in the only direction it can go – forward.

Becoming moved by an inner longing, however undefined or mysterious, will have to move beyond the ‘stiff fingers’ of grasping that a rigidified ego holds, and the foundations of an old consciousness that clings to our bodies and minds, saying to us ‘fool, don’t leave what you know behind’!   And finally, in order to venture into the new fields of play, we confront the vestiges of ‘terrible melancholy’, an authentic mourning of what will never be, and especially, what could never be to begin with.  Dis-illusion.  A kind of mourning period for our fantasies.  Which, of course, is the only cure for an illusion.

So listening for the call to adventure requires us, at some point along the journey, to let go of a ‘stiff fingers’- our long held, illusions about safety and security.   In preparation for the new way…the way of mystery.

It was already late
enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.

One more thing that would hold us back from crossing over and taking up the path of adventure is regret.  Chasing another false and illusionary belief that it is too late for you, that you missed your time.  That the windows of opportunity have all closed for you.  Too old, too uneducated, too broken, too poor, too much failure…well, you name it.  This is another wily defensive strategy, yet more clinging to an old identity.  It is also an indication that you must be getting closer to the source of the new wellspring, actually, to desperately resort back to the oldest of entrapments – ‘it’s too late’ and ‘I am not enough’.

So back to this essential re-framing of the terrain – so what now, if nothing is broken, and it is not too late?

The call to adventure opens us towards our heart’s desire for eros, vitality and mystery.  We want rapture to overtake us.  We want to allow the mystery to reveal itself to us in gradual, curious, enlightening and surprising ways.  We accept that we cannot know the outcomes of adventures in advance.  We learn that things of the soul are revealed to us in their own time as we journey forth, little by little.

little by little,
as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,
which you slowly recognized as your own

As we cross the thresholds that prevent us from listening deeply, we come closer and closer towards an inner voice, one that has been there all along, waiting.  Waiting until we are ready to listen, before it will begin speaking to us in the silent, still space within the heart.  What is authentic and true will gradually burn through the clouds of confusion and despair.  We begin to recognize a familiar messenger within us, pointing the way, as it will, like a compass seeking north.  This will allow for the sound your own true voice, and the feeling of aliveness from your own wellspring of vitality.

that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,

As long as we can practice the art of going inward and downward into the wellspring within our selves, we can learn to listen deeply to what emerges.  This inner voice, this pull or feeling, becomes a steady companion through the trials and ordeals we face.  We know what we have to do, simply because it feels more and more unbearable when we are not doing it.

Following our bliss, as Joseph Campbell said, it is not self indulgent, it is essential.  This life force energy becomes a companion to us, and is reflected in our countenance, and in our “en-theos”, our God-filled-ness, our enthusiasm for life.  It keeps us company as silent and invisible companion, and gives us the impetus and the courage to go forth ever deeper and deeper into the world, giving what is alive in us to the world.

In summary, we begin to feel a call coming from the mythic world, to step more and more into the material world.  As we walk deeper into the material world, we long to be more connected to the vital myth (ever near, ever ineffable) in the background world.   We walk between these two worlds, and it is in this very ‘in between’ space that soul is cultivated, activated, ignited.  None of us can say for sure exactly how or when soul will happen to us, but when and as it does, we become the embodiment of eternity’s zeal to become incarnate, and express itself in the field of time.

determined to do
the only thing you could do-

determined to save
the only life you could save.

As we stay tuned to the call to adventure, we indeed gather an inner momentum, we movement forward, and we are gifted with a powerful insight: There is only one life we can save, and it is saved by bringing forth what is within the self.  The Gnostic gospels quote Jesus as having said, “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.  If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

So let each of us, fellow travelers on this path of mythic adventure, listen deeply and closely to what is being whispered to our conscious personalities, from the inner depths of our psyches, our souls.  Each of us has to find a way to tune in, listen deeply, and hear what the divine wind is blowing our way.

This deep listening will inspire something to move in us.  Then we let go of our ego wishes and fantasies, in order to follow the call to venture forth towards our bliss.  What else could human beings want to do?

In following the call to our bliss, Joseph Campbell said that doors would open for us, which would not open before now, and would not open for any others.  But in order for the doors to open for us, we will have to be on the mythic path of the heroic endeavor.   Here is his reflection about this very matter, from Hero With a Thousand Faces:

The call to adventure signifies that destiny has summoned the hero and transferred his (or her) spiritual center of gravity from within the pale of this society to a zone unknown.  This fateful region of both treasure and danger may be variously represented: as a distant land, a forest, a kingdom underground, beneath the waves or above the sky, a secret island, lofty mountaintop, or profound dream state; but it is always a place of strangely fluid and polymorphous beings, unimaginable torments, superhuman deeds, and impossible delights.”

The price to be paid for answering the call to adventure is to have encounters that involve ordeals.  But before facing the actual ordeals themselves, we must face the crossing of thresholds, in order to enter the mythic terrains of adventure and ordeal.   In our next essay, we will explore what it takes to cross these inner thresholds of consciousness, so that we might enter fully into the mythic adventure.

For now, it is our time to listen deeply to the call coming from within, without looking for any particular kind of summons.  Then notice what comes…because another universal truth is this:  whatever you have been looking for, is already looking for you.  Be on the watch.  And let yourself be surprised.

- Michael Mervosh

Registration for “Walking In Two Worlds” Web Course closes on Sunday April 15th, 2012.

Click  here to learn more and enroll.

The Hero’s Mythic Adventure: Essay #1 – Walking in Two Worlds, Becoming the Bridge

March 26th, 2012

This blog post is the introduction essay to a new Web Course from the Hero’s Journey Foundation, called Walking In Two Worlds. For more information, or to enroll in the course, click on the icon below.

As humans, we walk on two feet,
And live in two worlds.

– Michael Meade, Fate & Destiny


Joseph Campbell once said, “If you want to help this world, what you will have to teach is how to live in it”. I have thought about that passage often over the years. I have come to the conclusion, that if we are going to have something meaningful to contribute to this world, we will have to learn to live in two worlds, and learn how to be a bridge between them.


It is often said we are living in unprecedented times. This is an inarguable and unignorable fact; an inevitable reality of being on the unfolding edge of time as it persistently moves forward, revealing a future that has never been before. Many people also perceive time to be moving faster than ever before. There is an exponential reality to the technological advances that were made throughout the 20th century, and even more so as we live into the 21st century.

The best current scientific estimate being made by NASA is that our universe is 12-14 billion years old, and our solar system is approximately 4.5 billion years old. Our ancestral predecessors are thought to have begun walking on two legs as early as 3.5 million years ago. Homo sapiens evolved around a half million years ago, and homo sapiens sapiens, the ancestors of all modern human beings, have a first recorded existence almost 200,000 years ago.

The latest genetic evidence, according to an article published in the American Journal of Human Genetics, offers that a great human extinction occurred around 70,000 years ago, due to a massive volcanic eruption which took place in what is now Sumatra. This has been referred to as the ‘Toba catastrophe’, and it is theorized to have created a thousand year ‘ice age’ that eliminated all but 1,000 -10,000 humans, who were located in South Africa. It is thought that the current population of the planet emerged from this small, surviving gene pool of humanity.

It can be derived that this time of extreme hardship for the human population helped to precipitate a profound leap in our evolutionary capacity for creative adaptation. As a result, we soon began a lasting migration pattern that eventually carried us to other continents, and then across the entire planet.

Many anthropologists widely theorize that we made a revolutionary leap in consciousness with our ability to reflect back upon ourselves, around 35,000 years ago. As a species, we woke up. It was then that we became organized as hunter-gatherers on the planet. Around 10,000 years ago, we had another leap in self-awakening as a species. We began forming nature-based worship sites such as Gobekli Tepe in Ursa, Turkey, and created agriculturally based farms and villages.

From this fundamental shift in gathering together, modern civilizations came into being. The urban-industrial age began to emerge three hundred years ago, and the communications age that is now encircling the globe came into being around 50 years ago. The technological advances of the past two decades have only aided our capacity to generate information and knowledge, not only about the smallest particles of existence, and the furthest reaches of the galaxies, but also about the deepest aspects of ourselves.

Ever since the time of our first awakening, we when witnessed life feeding on other life, and we became aware of this profoundly disturbing existential reality, we also began to wonder about that which exists beyond what our eyes could see. It helped us to make sense as well as cope with the harsh conditions we face called life on this planet.

Where have we come from before we were ‘here’? Where will we go once we are gone from ‘here’? What are we to be doing with our time, while we are ‘here’? What is to become of me? What am I to become?

These are the existential questions we have been asking for thousands of years. Like it or not, we have evolved into (and perhaps have always been) meaning making animals. And how we best make meaning is through our collective and personal myths.

“It will be always the one, shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story that we find, together with a challengingly persistent suggestion of more remaining to be experienced than will ever be known or told.

Throughout the inhabited world, in all times and under every circumstance, the myths of (people) have flourished; and they have been the living inspiration of whatever else may have appeared out of the activities of the human body and mind. It would not be too much to say that myth is the secret opening through which the inexhaustible energies of the cosmos pour into human cultural manifestation. Religions, philosophies, arts, the social forms of primitive and historic (people), prime discoveries in science and technology, the very dreams that blister sleep, boil up from the basic, magic ring of myth.”

- Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces

The monomyth, a word first coined by James Joyce, became the frame of reference Joseph Campbell used to begin telling about the one great story of humanity – that which is ever evolving as well as constant – as we move through the field of space and time. It refers to the song of humanity that has always been playing in the background of the psyche, individually and collectively. It is the one song we are all silently humming to, even if we don’t know the tune, and even if we don’t know that the tune is playing.

What is the one great story that best tells us about our past, about the meaning and purpose of our origins? What is the one great story that will inform us of our future, of our as-yet unrealized destiny? How do we learn to live in this ‘not-yet-ness’ of our lives, in the ‘in-between-ness’ of our lived pasts and our unlived futures? What allows us to wrestle with the limits of our present-day capacities, while striving to grow beyond them? What keeps us going? What will help move us forward through the span of our lives, like never before, and help us to become who we were meant to be?

This is precisely what Campbell called the Hero’s Journey.

Those who don’t feel this love
pulling them like a river

Those who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take sunset like supper

Those who don’t want to change
Let them sleep.

- Rumi

We are truly in unprecedented times. Unlike any other time in human history, not only can individual human beings reflect upon themselves, the globe can now do the same. For better and for worse, our revolutionary capacity for global communication is making the world more and more transparent to itself. Almost daily, we are blown away by the revelations and discoveries being revealed and beamed across the world by the efforts of the modern scientists. One glimpse through the Hubble telescope can fill us with awe and wonder. By the same token, we can become ever more distraught as we read about, and view with our own eyes, the appalling violence being done to our fellow human beings as well as the entire eco-system of the planet.

There is no denying that we can become more aware than ever, if we can only bear it; if we can learn to say ‘yes’ to life as it is. If we so choose, we can individually and collectively reflect well upon both our individual and global condition during these modern times. We can be appropriately inspired and troubled by what we see, discovering what meaning this holds for us, our planet, and our future. We can learn to see with more clarity how we each have a unique role to play, how we each have our own way to make a difference in the lives of others, and give to our own life meaning and vitality in the process.

At certain times in our lives, we will feel called to become more than what we presently are. Some of us have the resources and the courage to answer that call, others of us do not. For many of us, right now is one of those times. Those of us who feel this ‘love that pulls us like a river’, pulling towards something greater in our present times need ways to pursue a meaningful and purposeful life. A way that is filled with wonder, awe and respect for the dynamic, living universe, and our place in it. A way that allows us to bear the trials of living, the ordeals of time, and the suffering inherent to life’s harsh realities. Undertaking a heroic journey means creating the necessary conditions for ourselves to recognize our unique place in the universe, the unique gifts that we have to bring forth, and to serve in our particular way a purpose greater than ourselves, helping to sustain and revitalize of the world around us, now. This is the heart of a hero’s call to adventure.

“How terrible to think of not being the hero of one’s own life;
this is the role for which each of us is cast,
no matter how unsuccessfully we play it.
And if the part seems too big,
if we picture the hero as being indeed “more than life-sized”,
it is because our daily life has dwindled,
become less than real,
and only pygmy proportions seem natural to us.”

- Dorothea Dooling

For a year or so, I have wanted to write a brief manifesto for everyday heroes living, working, and learning to love in today’s world. It is a straightforward incorporation of the Hero’s Journey myth. Today feels like a good day to just say it like I see it, plain and simple. (Besides, I have already covered the history of the universe earlier.) Here goes….

~ A Hero’s Manifesto for Today’s World ~

The Call to Adventure. We will all feel called to a greater adventure, but adventure requires risk, and the older we get, the more we gravitate to what makes us feel secure. The hero’s call is towards one’s inner life. We must loosen our allegiance to security, and transfer it instead to vitality. It requires a shift in perspective regarding resources. To answer a deep call to adventure, we have to stop trying to collect, secure and over-rely on external resources; instead, we must learn about our internal resourcefulness. And the catch is that we can’t often gather those in advance of the adventure. They only come forth when needed.

Crossing Thresholds. We have to learn how to tolerate dynamic tension, if we are headed out on a true adventure. We will inevitably cross ‘points of no return’, whereby once we cross over into a certain point of awareness, or once we’ve committed ourselves, we will no longer be the same. Our old identity will begin shedding its skin. Thus, we come across threshold guardians, who block the way, or attempt to ward us off. They are like gargoyles entrenched above entrances to holy places. They are manifestations that which represent our deepest fears, and also our deepest longings. You cannot go on an adventure without bringing along your doubts and fears, as well as your desires and longings, for without them, it would not be an authentic experience.

By the way, journeys are not within the realm of our control. We can be in charge of them as long as we don’t actually go on them. Kind of the same rules as a fantasy world, where we remain in charge of the experience, as long as we don’t have to apply them to real life. However, once you go across the threshold point (which you will recognize by the dynamic tension you feel – called ‘feeling alive’), the journey is now in charge of you. It is a kind of significantly priced entry fee for a worthy adventure.

Entering the Forest. Another entry fee to be paid by the worthy adventurer. You cannot follow a path already made. It won’t be your path if you do. You have to make your own as you go. That is a prerequisite for the hero adventure. We have to say yes to the unknown, there is no way around it. Make an ally of it, in fact.

This puts us through a disorientation process. We begin to become undone, and since we’ve crossed the threshold, there is no way back, and things now come apart. Everything that is old and no longer serving the soul falls away. A very unnerving process; one that is also very necessary. Too many of us jump from one doing to the next doing, without the undoing happening to us in between. That will not change a paradigm. So we have to get lost in the forest of this world, before we can be found again, in a new one. We have to let go of our attachments to what no longer serves life, before we will be able to find and take hold of a new perspective from which to live. We die to become born again.

Ordeals. This is another word for adventure. Somehow we don’t realize this before we cross the threshold of ‘no turning back’. What you cannot experience positively, you will experience negatively. This is especially true about ordeals.

Ordeals involve the right configuration of circumstance, condition, fate and support. They are the crucibles that bring forth our unrealized potential, and our unrealized potential will not come forth from us without the ordeal. Michael Meade says that ‘our fate constricts us, so that our destiny can find us’. The hero seeks out his or her ordeal, while the ego self avoids or rejects it.

Ordeals are not just obstacles that block the path, even though we often initially experience them as hassles that we didn’t ask for, and uninvited challenges not consciously sought out.
We will fail and fall short many in the face of our ordeals. Many times. It doesn’t matter. Persistence is the key attribute of the hero. Stay with the challenge at hand. In fact, Joseph Campbell often said, ‘where you stumble, there your treasure lies’.

Allies. We cannot sustain ourselves by ourselves. We must stand on the shoulders of giants, those whom we have looked up to. We sometimes need to be carried by their felt sense of support. We need mentors who have traveled where we are about to go. We need companions who will travel with us where we have not yet gone. Today’s heroes must be able to discern the paradox of going where only we can go, yet not going by ourselves. As we grow our ability to rely on the presence of others, we are strengthened by reaching towards another, and thus more able to sustain ourselves when we must go our own way. Relying is a very different thing from depending.

Belly of the Beast. Here is another threshold crossing point, and it lies deep within the consciousness of the hero. This is facing our deepest fear, inadequacy or self-rejection, represented by the metaphorical dragon, beast or demon. These are all manifested representations of the gods, angels, daemons and otherworldly forces that we have ignored, rejected or alienated. The hero once again re-enters this threatening realm of darkness within the self, this time with more inner resources and helpers than before, and encounters the forces of this aspect of one’s self. Again, let’s be clear. The real threats and demons in today’s mythological realms are internal. The ultimate enemy is not outside of ourselves.

And on the map of the hero’s quest, the inner treasure is to be discovered within close proximity to the dragon’s lair, in within the belly of the beast, or is possessed by the demon’s powers. The trick here is to enter the dark territory of vulnerability with enough resources to stay conscious and engaged during our encounters with the life force energies that exist within that realm. This is precisely how we discover who we truly are, and what it is that lies within us, waiting to come forth. This is riding the energy of dynamic tension, in a way that enlivens us, and allows us to feel most like ourselves.

Discovering the Boon. This is staying with your ordeals long enough to realize that if you take them up positively, and make use of them, they will reveal to each us what has been there within us all along. Our genie comes out of the bottle, our eternal aspects shine through unimpeded, our highest and best self can at last be revealed.

We must learn to tolerate feeling leveled by humility, and dropped low by awe and wonder. We experience the beauty and mystery or surrender as we discover the boon within us, our pearls beyond all price, our heavenly inheritance to be acquired during our earthly existence. As we are enveloped by the sheer capacity for surprise, rapture and awe, words are often inadequate, and often unnecessary. We become a unique, living embodiment of eternity’s zeal for incarnation on this earthly field/plane of space and time.

Then it is time to return home, to the ordinary realms of daily living, and bring forth to that world, what we discovered in the mythic world of hero adventure.

The Return Home. Today, it is Sunday afternoon. I am finishing the mythic adventure of writing this essay, and feeling the ordeal, adventure and boon that I have each time I write something of meaning and substance. In between writing this weekend, I have spent time with family and my loved one; later we will welcome a dear friend’s arrival to Pittsburgh on an international flight. I have enjoyed a morning fire in the fireplace. I have tilled the garden’s soil, and broke a good sweat doing so. I will go out the stables to look after our horse, and perhaps ride him for the first time in a while. What happens to the one great story, while I am doing all these things?

I have a ‘to do’ list to face for the evening time, as well. Bills to pay, laundry to do. The sweeper to be run. Endless work details, needing attention. And there is always an in-flow of emails to respond to. These things ground me back in this world. They give me a sense that I am here, that life is happening, and that my taking up these actions really does matter.

Yet I am lingering in another world, mystified by the profound cosmological perspective I have of the living planet and the universe. I am struck with wonder – in the spaces in between focused, simple chores – of how we are alive in a dynamically living, unfolding universe, regenerating itself in every moment we can attune to it. I am thinking about Copernicus and Galileo. How they helped to profoundly change our worldview in the 16th century. How we are in the midst of another global mind change right now, and for the first time ever, we can all realize this at the same time, together. What a party invitation!

So you reading this, be ready. Now is the time for a great mythic adventure, and it is unfolding in a universe near you. Find a method, take up a path, re-devote yourself to an old, abandoned discipline. Then undertake a new journey, one with renewed enthusiasm and uncertainty.

Spring is in the air, and the future is up for grabs. Take hold of yours. Watch for its unfolding. Or better yet, allow your destiny to take hold of you.

There is a thing called the hero’s golden thread, and you will have to follow it, just like you must follow your bliss. Just keep a hold on that thread of bliss. It is connected to the one great song that has been playing throughout your entire life. In fact, you may even be humming it right now.

- Michael Mervosh

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

- William Stafford

The Art of Self Reflection #20-Slow Cooking – The Cauldron as a Metaphor for Transformation

February 18th, 2012

A Chickpea leaps almost over the rim
of the pot

Where it is being boiled.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The cook knocks it down with the ladle.
“Don’t you try to jump out.
You think I’m torturing you;
I’m giving you flavor,

So you can mix with spices and rice
And be the lovely vitality
Of a human being.

Remember when you drank
Rain in the garden?
That was for this.”

Grace first.  Sexual pleasure,
Then a boiling new life begins,
And the Friend has something
Good to eat.

Eventually
The chickpea will say to the cook,

“Boil me some more.
Hit me with the skimming spoon.
I can’t do this by myself…

You’re my cook, my driver,
My way into existence.
I love your cooking.”

-Rumi

For the time being, this will be my conclusive essay for this series on the Art of Self Reflection.  (I intend to begin a new series based on the phases of the universal Hero’s Journey myth, beginning in March. These essays will support Hero’s Journey teaching online here: http://www.walkingintwoworlds.org/)  So I have chosen one of my long-time favorite Rumi poems to close out this essay series.  I have used this poem to support those of us who seek personal growth understand the deepening process for personal development.

The conditioned personality has its agendas and needs; the human soul usually has a completely different agenda for us.  Regardless of what our conscious ego-based energies pursue, the soul is always seeking the best conditions through which to realize its divine nature through our human form.  The soul seeks out the right amount of support to encourage us along, balanced with the right amount of challenge to help change and refine our nature to its truest essence and expression.

Slow cooking is an apt and descriptive metaphor for the method by which we become rich, ripe and nourishing human beings.  Any worthwhile pursuit takes time, and also a certain forbearance and artisanship.  Rumi tells us we are all being cooked by a Presence, a kind of Divine perfection, that sees to it that our personalities are put in the type of vessel through which we can be heated, stirred and transformed.  The cauldron is just such a vessel.

A cauldron is a hefty metal cooking pot, usually heated by an open fire.  It has a certain reference to more primitive and efficient ways cooking food down into its most edible form.  Due to the strength of its container, it can withstand the various processes of instability and change taking place within and among the various ingredients placed in the boiling waters within the cauldron.  It is also a metaphor for the ego’s container – something that can contain that which is fluid and unstable within us, such as disturbing thoughts, and strong emotional reactions and responses.

The chickpea is the appropriate metaphor for us as human beings.  It is a legume, a garbanzo bean, very nutritious and high in protein.  It is one of the earliest cultivated vegetables, and remains have been found in Middle Ease sites thought to be 7500 years old.  They take a good amount of cooking to soften, but if over-cooked, they easily fall apart.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back to the Buddha’s first truth: Life is difficult.  There are many things about life as it is here on earth that are more than a human being can bear.  Why must this life be so hard?  Why so much suffering?   Why do we seem to inflict it on others?  This is sometimes due to our utter ignorance; sometimes it is because we consciously and pleasurably intend to do so.  Throughout our lives, we face inevitable ordeals, and we must be able to endure life’s challenges, in order to survive.   If it goes better than that, we learn to thrive, grow beyond our own self concerns, and be of service to life.

If we are fortunate, the cooking can awaken us, and realize that it is through the struggles, sufferings and ordeals that our true character can be revealed.  We may be able to grow more loving and compassionate, become embodiments of the divine, realizing our true nature and live from it more purposefully than before the ordeals, and as a result of the ordeals.

But that is not how it typically begins for us.

A Chickpea leaps almost over the rim
Of the pot
Where it is being boiled.
“Why are you doing this to me?”

We at first often feel victimized and assaulted by trying experiences and ordeals.  We feel as if the gods were against us.  We try to get out of our circumstances.  We try to get rid of our problems.  We try hard to get out of the pot.  The boiling, the heat, the intensity, and the tensions – they get to us.  From our naïve and childlike nature, we say to God  “Why are you doing this to me?”, as if it were being inflicted by the Creator of life.

The cook knocks it down with the ladle.
“Don’t you try to jump out.
You think I’m torturing you;

The Divine Plan has its way with us, and doesn’t allow us a way out.   It keeps the right amount of heat going, mixed with the right amount of ingredients, in order to change our shape, soften our minds, relax our will, open our hearts.  We have to stay engaged long enough here to come to the essential revelation that we are not just being done in.  This is not an easy leap of consciousness to make.

We all have been bound by the righteous futility and anger of the victim mindset, which is defined us by our woundedness.  In this conscious state, it feels as if life is torturing us.  We are right, we’ve been wronged, we want everyone to know that is the way it is, and we want revenge, we want restitution.  We want someone else to pay, or we want someone else to do something for us.

It is something else to begin to come into a connection with a presence larger than our woundedness, a consciousness that is provided to us by a helper or a healer, or grace – by an experience of what we might call unconditional love and acceptance, that also does not allow us to hold onto such a small mindedness about our suffering.

I’m giving you flavor
So you can mix with spices and rice
And be the lovely vitality
Of a human being.”

Karma mixes us with the right circumstances of life, the perfect set of conditions, the right amounts and mixtures of support and challenge, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain – to work with the raw-ness of our nature, to soften our hard edges.  As we grow up, we mix it up with life, and life happens to us.  Spices add flavor, rice provides the fundamental texture and nourishment, and the otherness of life absorbs our unique flavoring as well.

Remember when you drank
Rain in the garden?
That was for this.”

If we are clear enough, most of us can remember that we once knew the basic goodness of life, how we once received the care of adults who mattered to us, no matter how imperfect or troubled their ways.  This was drinking in the rains while we were planted in the garden of life.  We received the fundamental nutrients of universal life that we were given early on, internalized now within us, allowing us to bear the maturing process of facing ‘life on life’s terms’, and not simply always having our own way.

My own early life experiences provided just such a mixture of nurturance and difficulty.  As a child, I grew being more than adequately cared for, by parents who did the best they could.  My mother invested much of herself in a home life for my siblings and myself; my father worked in the steel mills of Pittsburgh, and provided for us all the necessary and basic things for living.  Both were involved in our school endeavors, religious upbringing and recreational pursuits.  Playing baseball was my greatest passion as a child, and would continue to be so, through my young adult life.  My father was involved in shaping my skills, and he was a coach in my community league.

And yet my perception also was that when it came to my interior life, I was on my own.  I can distinctly recall this emotional reality from the time I was six years old.  That would never have been told directly to me, and it did not need to be spoken. For me, it was simply so, and in many ways, it became shaped into my deepest reality.  When it came to parents and teachers, or extended family, I did not expect adults to take an active interest in my interior life, nor understand, appreciate or companion with my internal experiences.  If anything, I found that trying to bring these experiences forward to adults usually only made matters worse for them, and thus for me.

Looking back, this was the source of a great amount of suffering, and it shaped my view of life, and of myself, early on.  As a chickpea, it was primarily this experience that gave me the feeling that the cook was torturing me.  Although as a young child I didn’t actually try to jump out of the cauldron of life, it was in some ways my deepest wish.

One of my biggest questions I carried towards “God” was this.   I came to understand that we each have painful early life experiences to face, and through my own introspection and the help of others, I could reconcile that the painful life experiences I had did not have to define me, nor negatively color my view of the past.  But the lingering question I had was this:  “Why did I seem to have to endure this aloneness for so long?”  My experience of aloneness (regarding my interior life) was a deep reality from a very early age until I turned 16, and entered the 10th grade of high school.  It was then that I seemed to find my place among friends and new life experiences, and many things seemed to change.

My question was really more of a complaint than a question.  But I eventually arrived at an answer that I could live with.  At one point during a deeper inquiry into my one big question/complaint, I stumbled into this insight:

I had to experience certain deprivation in order to develop a certain hunger, one that would never leave me.  I had come to know this longing deeply, and I saw that I could cultivate this spiritual longing in a way that would carry me forward throughout all the years of my life.  That it could be a source of strength, and help me to grow stronger, and carry me against the rough tides of life.  It would take me on many journeys, and fuel my devotion to seek the presence of the Divine.  My longing would never leave me, as long as I would never leave it.

And now, rather than view my early loneliness be a source of suffering, I could deepen my insight, and see it as a place of refuge. As an adult, I could cherish a certain solitude, and find solace in my own company.  From this solitude, I could come to the realization that my longing itself is a source of strength and motivation, a current that pulls me forward; that is was also a magnetizer, an attractor, and it could actually pull towards me that which I was seeking.

This was an amazing realization.  That my longing, born out of an early ground of perceived deprivation, could become a driving force in my life, and not evidence of a primal sense of inadequacy.  It came from the Source of life, and also pulled that same Source towards me.  I carry this realization now as small form of enlightenment, and it leads me forward into this very day, and is present to me as I write this.

To identify my longing as being connected to, and coming from a Divine source, and no longer identify it with my wounding, is to come upon Grace.  A necessary pre-requisite for joy and pleasure.

Grace first.  Sexual pleasure,
Then a boiling new life begins,
And the Friend has something
Good to eat.

When we begin to accept what is, and stay in touch with a fundamental goodness in life, we are touched by Grace.  We can feel safe.  When we can be connected to an untouchable essence, a goodness at the core of our being, untouched by pain, assaults, indignities, we can feel secure.  When we can feel safe and secure enough, we can begin to venture forth in life.  We can move, and be moved.  We can begin to experience contact with our senses, and connect with the many sensory experiences of life: birds singing, sun shining on our skin, blue skies, the scent of flowers, the tastes of food.
As our senses awaken, so does our sensual nature.  Eros awakens as we appreciate the beauty of life, and sexuality comes to life, the full embodiment of our vitality and desire.

This sensing, this awakening of desire, brings forth the inner heat and passions for living, and a boiling new life begins.

Part of what inspires excitement is nakedness.  But nakedness is not just a physical thing.  When we cross a certain threshold into adventure and ordeals, they bring forth deep uncertainties and vulnerabilities from within us.  These are the opportune moments, where we let go of the hard shell of our own hatred and bitterness, and through the heat of boiling vulnerability, we soften into the loving kindness and acceptance of capable cooks, caring others.

Eventually
The chickpea will say to the cook,

The key word in this poem: Eventually.  It simply does not happen all at once.  Soul, majesty, mystery – they are not at our whim or fancy.  It can only happen little by little.  This is bad news for the impatient and illusion-driven ego.  A disillusionment must occur to realize that gradual change is a necessary outcome of the cooking.

If we are truly present to the heat, to the spices, to the other-ness within life’s cauldron, each little shift feels ‘big’ and barely tolerable, when we are actually present to it.   But the bottom line is about what becomes of us when we tolerate the boiling, the spices, the mixing, and the skimming spoon.  We come alive.  This felt sense of aliveness, born of authentic exchanges with life, is everything.   It shifts our motivation, and the very thing we wanted out of, we now want more of.

Boil me some more.
Hit me with the skimming spoon.
I can’t do this by myself…

We open up.  We wake up.  We get it.  We see what it takes to be alive in this world, and we are clear that cannot do it by ourselves.  We beg the Divine to keep us in the cooking pot of life.  We come to the realization that we do not want to do it by ourselves.  Our little will begins to enjoy the surrendering process to a greater one.  Through surrendering we come to know the largeness of ourselves, and we become aligned with a larger driving force.  We are now being taken for the ride.

Trusting the process.  Liking the heat.  Surrendering to the whirling mix.  Taking joy in being one ingredient among many.

Below is a passage from Czeslaw Milosz, from my very first essay on the Art of Self Reflection – what it means to truly look at one’s self.  To look at one’s self without a grandiose lens, accepting our place as one thing among many, is to love deeply.

Love means to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills

Trusting the cook.  Taking our place in the cooking pot.  Knowing the ingredient that we are is an essential one, although one among many.

Trusting the driver.  Knowing we have a good seat in the vehicle of this earthly identity, going on a great ride, a wondrous journey, being driven towards a heavenly destination that can only be arrived at deep within the self.  What Campbell called ‘the jewel point’. 

You’re my cook, my driver,
My way into existence.
I love your cooking.

The capacity to surrender over to the Friend, the Teacher, the Cook, the Driver, the Lover…to whatever archetypal god or presence we need to not only guide, but also direct us.   This is what the cooking is ultimately for – to cultivate that capacity in us. That is our way into existence, and our way through it as well.

Joseph Campbell once said “the gods you worship are the gods you deserve”.   These days, when I imagine an intangible and omniscient presence, a power far greater than myself, I can only bring myself to worship that which is the emanation of a loving tender presence, who carries a fierce sword of clarity and truth, in order to bring forth more love, life and joy.

And on a really good day, I dare to realize what the ancient Hindu mystics spoke about – their Sanskrit words are tat tvam asi. I am that.

I wish the same realization for you.

- Michael Mervosh