I've been thinking a lot lately about aspects of life I've neglected for years. Specifically, religion or spirituality. I gave up Catholicism at the age of 13. The way I saw things practiced in the church conflicted with my own personal views, even at such a young age. I saw countless contradictions in what was preached and what was practiced. Since then, like many ex-Catholics, I have been jaded with religion, preferring the clear rationality and tangibility of science, which I viewed as opposed to religion. Unfortunately, for me this involved forefeiting my connection with the spiritual, or mystical, whatever you want to call it. More than that, it severed my connection with a larger community group, something I was a part of. A group that told its own stories which guided me until I left. Though I left for a reason, there was value to all that. I'm realizing that more and more over time, but particularly over this trip, as I see the power and utility of other cultures' communities.
In The Hero With a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell writes about a common human mythology that spans generations, from time immemorial to the present day. He marks striking commonalities among the legends and stories humans from all world locations have shared in their communities, recited to their children, and used as beacons of morality to guide their lives. He finds that these myths are vital in maintaining a society with a coherent collective mission. Not only that, but they are also necessary for the development and continual maturing process of the individual soul.
He discusses the absolute importance of the soul's developmental process, and argues that the myths which guide our lives and cultures are that which infuse the soul with meaning. Without myths and the stories and symbolism that communicate them, he fears our lives lose direction. Life loses its sense of purpose absent an overarching narrative that puts our experiences into perspective, that helps us identify them with something larger.
This idea of an overarching life narrative is one that has constantly resurfaced throughout my travels. Though it was there before, nothing brings this issue to the foreground more than having your tacit assumptions or ardent beliefs challenged on a daily basis, as you are immersed and must get by in vastly different cultures. Some experiences have such an impact on you that you can't help but reevaluate particular understandings of reality. You are forced to see things in a different way. And there may never be a going back to how you saw things before. Sometimes this experience is immediately liberating; you experience a sudden clarity that lightens your sense of being. Other times, the experience is an unexpected submersion into the ice cold waters of fear and anxiety. You're scared or hurt, and you're not sure how to best move forward. You get stuck in depression or you become paralyzed by anxiety.
The thing is, having a coherent narrative can help us overcome these trying experiences. Having a solid purpose in life, which this narrative elucidates, contextualizes the difficulties we face and gives us hope they will in the end be for our benefit; for our pruning, and ultimately for our personal growth. Without this narrative, we live in constant uncertainty about our actions. Did I do the right thing? Maybe I messed things up and will never get the chance to correct them? (living in the past; depression). What should I do? There are so many choices, what if I make the wrong one? (living in the future; anxiety).
The question is, how do we know what our life narrative is? And even if we do, we may find that it's hard to maintain it, hard to always live by it. We get easily distracted. Other options pop up that may seem easier than staying true to our heart, the guide for our life narrative.
I'm not sure how we find it, other than just being open and honest with ourselves, even when it's difficult, when we may not want to hear, think about, or accept what we know deep down to be true. But I think some wisdom can be found in Campbell's writing, particularly with regard to those of us who struggle constantly with lingering doubts and worries about the future, or are going through tough times:
"Schism in the soul will not be resolved by any scheme of return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render an ideal projected future (futurism), or even by the most realistic, hardheaded work to weld together again the deteriorating elements. Only birth can conquer death—the birth, not of the old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul there must be—if we are to experience long survival—a continuous "recurrence of birth" (palingenesia) to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death."
It much less elegant words, I think Campbell is saying that we have to continually let ourselves - our assumptions about life, our expectations - die, in order to fully live, in order to free our own soul. We need to accept that we are not the same person we were 10 years ago, 1 year ago, even yesterday. And this is a beautiful thing! Because our goal should be to continually grow, to mature. And a necessary part of that process is letting go of who we might have been, then embracing who we are now, and finally aspiring to be even better. This involves continually modifying our personal story. I thought I was a loving person, but this action doesn't align with that. What happened? Have I been ignoring something about myself? Or maybe you dealt with something in childhood that, though you haven't thought much about it in years, still affects you or holds you hostage in some way, shapes your personality and behaviors. Maybe it's time to modify the story you keep telling yourself about yourself. We need to constantly remind ourselves of what we've been through, and decide where that fit into our own personal story.
What really moves me about all this is that this approach assumes we will make mistakes, and regret them; and that we all have experienced great suffering. Indeed it thrives on this fact. You must have the lows in order to appreciate the highs. And so we should do our best to be grateful for those lows, even when we're experiencing them. Sure, it's easier said than done, but the result is being in touch with the song of your soul, and singing with it in unison.
I want to end with a quote from Kahlil Gibran, on love, which I think summarizes a lot of this poetically:
"When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears."
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