“Every time you are willing to say, “yes” to everything on your path, you express the hero inside of you.” Joseph Campbell
Most of my childhood was spent listening to my Irish uncles telling powerful myths of ancient gods and ageless heroes; of men of magic and women of bravery. I was terrified of some gods, in love with courageous warriors, fearful of monstrous Cyclops, and I always dreamed of being a heroine of great beauty and mystery.
Myths and Stories are the oldest schools for humankind. Genuine stories offer a living school where the only entry requirements are an active imagination, some capacity to feel one’s own feelings and the willingness to approach the world as a place of mystery and revelation.
Myths are not a part of the past, but a way to see universal truths playing out in the present. Myths are the inside story that makes meaning of the outside world. People feel more whole when listening to a story and feel most lost when out of touch with their own story.
When I think back to the myths told to me of the hero’s journey, I realize now that the accomplishments of the heroes took place in the outer world. But as the story of our world becomes less clear, as we all find ourselves living in a cosmic turn, it is the unfolding of the inner life of the soul that provides the best way to proceed. In order to move forward in a deep and meaningful way, we must find the hero within each of us. Somewhere deep inside each of us lives the soul of a hero. It’s not something we bring to the world, rather something that brings us to the world. We must discover the hero within because we are all heroes of our own myths.
We discover the hero within by doing the inner work of determining what meaning and purpose this world holds for us, and for the future that awaits us. 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. It is up to us to give our own life the meaning and vitality we need to make it through and to be of service to others.
We need a path that allows us to bear the trials of living, the ordeals of our present time and circumstance, and the suffering inherent to life’s harsh realities. Discovering the hero within means waking up to the realization that the necessary conditions are being created for us to recognize our unique place in the universe, the particular gifts that we have to bring forth, and to serve a purpose greater than ourselves. Now is the time to help sustain and revitalize the world around us.
We need to learn how to tolerate dynamic tension if we are to embark on a worthwhile inner adventure. As we develop and grow, we cross points of no return. Once we cross over to new experiences of conscious awakening, and once we’ve committed ourselves to a path of awareness, we will no longer be the same. Our old identity begins to shed its skin. We come across threshold guardians – daemons that block the way, attempting to ward us off. They are like the gargoyles entrenched above archways and entrances to shrines and cathedrals. These guardians are manifestations of our deepest fears. They also guard the way to our deepest longings. We cannot go on a genuine, soulful adventure without bringing along your authentic doubts and fears, as well as our strongest desires and longings – for, without them, it would not be a hero’s journey.
But the one simple truth of discovering the hero within is just to be ourselves – that’s the real job of a hero.
“We cannot, today, recreate the original ‘wilderness man’ in shape, form and habitat. But we can recover him, because he exists in us. He is the foundation in spirit or psyche on which we build, and we are not complete until we have recovered him.” Laurens van der Post
It seems most of the men I know are watching reality shows like, “Survivor” or “Survivor Man,” programs about living and existing with no food, no shelter and no fresh water. I would rather watch paint dry than watch something like this, but it occurs to me that there is something missing out of these men’s lives, something primal, perhaps it’s an initiation experience, an ancient ritual no longer present in our modern world.
Many traditional cultures escorted their young men into the world of adulthood and the sacred through an elaborate series of rituals. These rituals occurred in space set apart from the rest of the community and took place over many weeks or months. Preparation for initiation was often extensive and included witnessing the ongoing life of the people and observing the qualities displayed by men of spirit. Underneath and holding up this initiatory process was a deep and abiding relationship to nature and the spirits of the place. This passage was also rooted in a nearly endless succession of generations that had come to learn the necessity of such a transition.
The awareness for this is essentially universal: a process of intense focus, communal reflection and immersion in the natural and supernatural worlds must shape a man’s soul. In other words, to become a man, certain gateways needed to be crossed in order for that territory to be fully embedded within the man.
An additional value of initiation for modern men concerns the need to reestablish a link with the wild. Some say this constitutes a regression to the past, while others see it as an opportunity to sanction a letting go of restraint. While these two options are intriguing, they are nonetheless far from what is being advocated. Thoreau said, “In wildness is the preservation of the world.” It is precisely this wildness that we are in search of, one that fosters an authenticity that is most like nature. The depth of conditioning that we are shaped by is immense and the levels of crippling self-consciousness that results depletes a man until he lives a life, as Thoreau also said, “of quiet desperation.” The world is in great need of men who live genuinely and who are willing to stand outside of consensus reality and speak words of truth.
Initiation experiences are archetypal as well as deeply spiritual. They have been a part of the human journey for thousands of years and act as a rite of passage. This experience represents a very specific archetypal journey meant to challenge you to discover unknown power with in you. Extreme conditions are either chosen – as in going on a Walk About when a young Aboriginal man comes of age, or presented to you through unseen life events such as illness, accidents, family death, divorce or any other life circumstance that starts a person on this extraordinary experience. As is often the case today, most people do not even recognize that they are on an initiatory experience, as it is a spiritual journey hidden within the chaos of ordinary life. In fact, chaos is required for our lives to unfold.
These reality shows demand that the people confront their own weaknesses or be consumed by them. You can only come to believe in the power of your spirit – and the Spirit – by needing that power yourself to survive. Then you can speak about that power with respect and reverence, and the Spirit will assist you because you understand how to pray with humility.
Maybe these reality shows are worth seeing. Well, if you’re a man anyway.
“It is not the length of life, but depth of life.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
I grew up with rocks. I had bags and bags of my treasured rocks in our garage and each had it’s own unique story. Every paperweight was a rock; gifts I gave were rocks; even refrigerator magnets were rocks – shiny pieces of polished quartz that I loved to rub with my thumb, or tiny bits of black lava that had been expelled from an ancient volcano.
I thought I wanted to be a geologist: someone who looks beneath the surface, someone who tries to make the invisible visible. I grew up not only with rocks but also with time, measured not in days or weeks but in millions of years.
There is something about the earth that invites you to dig. I really used to think that if I could dig hard enough and long enough, I would eventually get to China. When I got older I realized that wasn’t real, and that my imagination wasn’t satisfied with geological truth and that the digging I wanted to do couldn’t be done with a shovel.
My fascination with geology came from the feeling that not only was there more to the earth than could be seen on the surface, there was more to me. What I really wanted to be was a geologist of the soul.
Depth. That which is below – deep below the surface. Surface is the sand along the beach that blows in the wind. Depth is the rock underneath. Surface is easy – not much effort needed to find it and not very rewarding when you do. Depth is more difficult. Sometimes it emerges on it’s own, but you normally have to look for it. You have to dig.
Surface is static. Sterile. Frozen. Plant a seed in it, and it never grows. Depth evolves. Depth is turning towards something, looking for something. Depth is a process – a voyage from the outside to the inside. Depth doesn’t just happen. We have to make mistakes. We have to go on a journey. That creates depth.
I became a writer because I thought it was the only way to find the truth about myself – to dig, deep down below the surface, searching for my own interior, for ancient layers inside of me. Searching for depth, searching for my spirit, longing for a connection with my soul.
Spirit in mythology and traditional cosmology is connected to the elements of fire and air, and it rises, reaching up and out. Soul is connected to the elements of water and earth, and it descends, inward and downward. When we rise with spirit, we get peak experiences and those overviews of life that include moments of freedom. Soul goes the opposite way. Water runs down. The earth has gravity and pulls us to it. The soul wants us to grow down and become deep like a river. The real connections are not surface connections. You can have many friends on Facebook, but your real friends are those who know and support your deep self and will remind you when you’re losing touch with your own soul.
What is often missing in modern mass culture is this depth of connection. When you see a culture dividing into simplistic polarities — which is all of our politics nowadays — what’s going on is a loss of soul. People who are in touch with their soul know what they’re supposed to be doing in the world. They know what their way of contributing to life is in the same way that people know what music they love and what food they enjoy — not just life-sustaining food, but food that has flavor, that makes you feel nourished, even inspired.
As I continue my voyage below the surface I have discovered ways that help me cultivate depth: having a personal experience with the holy; being more contemplative; having a relationship to the mysterious things in life; slowing way down; finding an artist outlet; connecting to the wisdom of the past; and then I go outside. And I dig up rocks.
“Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If you ever had the chance to enter my closet, you would realize two things about me: I love shoes and I might have a shoe addiction problem. I have more shoes and cowboy boots than all my friends combined; and I have a lot of friends. But after returning from two weeks in Costa Rica I have decided to spend most of the summer barefoot.
I learned that Costa Rica is at the top of the world, the lone contender from the Americas in environmental performance distinguished in March this year for it’s environmental sustainability by the United Nations. Costa Rica’s relationship with Mother Earth is both remarkable and respectful and I found myself wanting to connect to Her in the same way. So I took my shoes off. And I kept them off. Aside from when I was at the beach or my backyard, I can’t remember when I last spent one day barefoot, much less several.
What I experienced from walking around without shoes was profound. Being barefoot creates presence. Mind chatter dissipates. The animals seemed to be less suspicious. I noticed sounds, smells and saw more detail as I slowly walked. And I discovered the earth is soft, so soft in fact that it deeply moved me. The temperature of the dirt changed step after step depending on the tree cover over me and the leaf litter under me. The moisture, the rocks, the shade, the direction of the wind. It all mattered. With each step I felt met by Mother Earth. Supported. Held up. And something I never expected, I felt better. I noticed improved circulation in my feet and ankles. My neck and shoulders lost all the tension they seem to always have. I had better posture and better balance. It’s amazing to me how wearing shoes has separated me from so much of what I am a part of.
When I returned home I continued my barefoot practice. It’s simple, convenient, and heart opening. It’s a mindfulness spiritual practice that uses our feet as connective soul bridges between body, mind and planet Earth. It raises our consciousness and raising consciousness in urban life is critical to sustaining the planet.
Our shoes distort our bodies’ feeling and function and also disconnect us from the earth. We don’t think about this, working in our offices behind non-opening windows, perched high above the earth on steel encased in concrete. We sleep and move in climate controlled homes and vehicles where we have to look at an instrument to know the temperature outside. Our lifestyle is more like life in submarine or spaceship than on Mother Nature, it seems. Conversely, there’s something primal, damp, sensual and connective about walking on the earth. Something of mystery. This is the thing I love about it: it redirects my abstract concerns. It plugs my attention into something much greater and more live-giving than the ridiculous flock of worries my mind generates.
We’re at a real crossroads now with Mother Earth, and need to change our relationship to Her. Recycling newspapers and buying hybrid cars isn’t going to do it because the mindset behind these well-intended changes still treats the planet as a commodity, a sort of gravel pit of resources for humans to plunder. We don’t need different ways to pillage the planet. We need different humans. A more evolved humanity that sees the ecological and spiritual implications of living as creatures in a much greater web of life all around us.
I’m not ready to kick my cowboy boots and Manolo Blahnik’s to the curb, but I do plan on spending most of the summer connecting to the earth’s chi by going barefoot.
When was the last time your bare feet hit the ground?
Recently I was invited to Feng Shui the stunning home of Tommy Chong of Cheech and Chong fame. I knew his Los Angeles neighborhood, Pacific Palisades was full of movie stars and I expected his home to be gorgeous. But I didn’t expect to stumble upon a goddess.
I never saw any Cheech and Chong movies so I had no preconceived image of Tommy Chong. I found him to be not only strikingly handsome but one of the kindest and gentle-natured men I have ever met. He seemed more like a sage than a pot-promoting comedian. His eyes reminded me of the old barn door: flecks of deep brown married with lighter hues, so much strength remaining despite the years of weathering, and they held an insurmountable depth that dared to drown anyone that met his gaze. I spent time with Tommy talking about his childhood, his career, his health and his vision for the next stage of his life. And then I was introduced to his wife of forty years, Shelby.
Shelby is a dancer, a seamstress, and an artist and her eyes look as if she used ten shades of blue paint to achieve the striking crystal clear blue color. They don’t capture light; they defy it, embellishing her petite features. Even at 68, no one could possibly outshine her. Five foot seven, flowing golden curls, flawless ivory skin with a willowy walk she had a face cut right from the pages of a men’s magazine. I thought to myself, if goddesses are real, then this woman is their masterpiece. She was all about simplicity, making things easy, helping those around her to relax and be happy. Perhaps that’s why her skin glowed, not from expensive creams or products, but from her inner beauty that lit her eyes and softened her features. When she smiled and laughed you couldn’t help but smile along with her. To be in her company was to feel that you, too, were someone. As if you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season. When I gathered up my things to leave Tommy and Shelby’s house, she insisted that I spend the night. Her genuine kindness was unexpected and I felt as if we had been friends for years – as if we shared some sort of history already.
As I got settled in for the night I said to myself, “Shelby is so graceful, calm and powerful and she knows exactly where she is heading with her life and future. I wish some of her goddess vibes would rub off on me.” The second I had that thought I realized that if Shelby can become so incredibly confident, empowered and sensual, then I can too. We all share the same essence, abilities, and strengths. It is simply a matter of choosing to allow the goddess vibe to emerge and connecting to my own unique spirit and that means accepting and honoring what makes me – me.
When we step further into the story we came to live, not only does the mythic territory open, but the deep self-moves and the world of imagination and meaning comes flooding towards us.
So, if your goddess vibe comes knocking on your spirit’s door, invite her in for cake and wine. She might look like the courageous and fierce Egyptian Isis, the outstanding Greek athlete and huntress Artemis, or the brainy politician and warrior Athena. She could be the sensual lover like Oshun from West Africa, or a promoter of prosperity like the Hindu deity Lakshmi. The goddess vibe can be sexual feeling, or a healing attitude, or even intellectual confidence.
What’s important is to cultivate a connection not necessarily to a particular female icon or ancient deity with shapely hips but to the divine feminine energy that ignites them all and, subsequently, all the material and mystical consciousness. In other words, divine feminine energy doesn’t have to take the shape of any particular goddess at all. Look around. Start becoming more aware of this universal She-She power that right now is rising up all around you- and inside you.
We are all goddesses. Or we could be with a little coaching and the right lipstick.
“We cannot, today, recreate the original ‘wilderness man’ in shape, form and habitat. But we can recover him, because he exists in us. He is the foundation in spirit or psyche on which we build, and we are not complete until we have recovered him.” Laurens van der Post
I never saw any Cheech and Chong movies so I had no preconceived image of Tommy Chong. I found him to be not only strikingly handsome but one of the kindest and gentle-natured men I have ever met. He seemed more like a sage than a pot-promoting comedian. His eyes reminded me of the old barn door: flecks of deep brown married with lighter hues, so much strength remaining despite the years of weathering, and they held an insurmountable depth that dared to drown anyone that met his gaze. I spent time with Tommy talking about his childhood, his career, his health and his vision for the next stage of his life. And then I was introduced to his wife of forty years, Shelby.
So, if your goddess vibe comes knocking on your spirit’s door, invite her in for cake and wine. She might look like the courageous and fierce Egyptian Isis, the outstanding Greek athlete and huntress Artemis, or the brainy politician and warrior Athena. She could be the sensual lover like Oshun from West Africa, or a promoter of prosperity like the Hindu deity Lakshmi. The goddess vibe can be sexual feeling, or a healing attitude, or even intellectual confidence.