Living the Hero's Journey
Page 14
Most of us want things to be different, but few of us are willing to change. Unlike the snake, we’re not ready to shed a familiar and comfortable skin. We know that when we change, we outgrow our former selves and must leave something behind.
Part of us dies or, at the very least, is abandoned in favor of a new and better self. There is a price for renewal, and payment is exacted at the point of transformation. Here is an example from mythology and the movies: “The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.”
This quote is from a book Hermione finds in the Hogwarts school library in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Alchemy is part science, part philosophy, and the medieval forerunner of chemistry. It includes the seemingly magical transformation of base metals into gold, and the amalgamation of a mythical potion granting immortality.
Isaac Newton, best known for being a physicist and mathematician, was also an alchemist. He specifically worked on a process known as chrysopopeia: transmuting base metals into gold. The method was also used symbolically in creating the “philosopher’s stone.”
The philosopher’s stone is the correct terminology. However, both the book and the movie are titled Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in the United States. Publishers and producers weren’t sure Americans would get that the philosopher’s stone is magical.
Several hundred years before Newton, a Frenchman and alchemist named Nicholas Flamel was credited with discovering the philosopher’s stone. He is said to have learned the secret from a man he met on the road to Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. If there was a secret formula, it died with Flamel in the year 1418. So much for immortality.
In 1987, Brazilian novelist Paulo Coelho told the story of a powerful chemist who lives in ancient Egypt. He dresses in all black with a falcon perched nearby for hunting game. The alchemist’s most prized possessions are the philosopher’s stone and the elixir of life.
The internationally bestselling book The Alchemist empowers readers while they accompany the Andalusian shepherd boy Santiago, our hero, on his fateful journey to discover his destiny. The book sold more than 65 million copies and holds the world record for the most translated book by a living author (80 languages). It has all the wonderful attributes of a captivating myth: symbolism, allegory, spirituality, and metaphor.
In The Alchemist, Santiago receives his call to adventure in a recurring dream he believes holds the key to his destiny. He seeks the guidance of a gypsy fortune-teller before setting off on his quest to discover the treasure of his personal legend.
Dreams are stories you vividly tell yourself while you sleep. They are an integral component of transformation and are worth paying attention to, according to Pulitzer Prize–winning playwright Marsha Norman: “Dreams are illustrations . . . from the book your soul is writing about you.”
Misfortune To Fortune
Stories are ingrained in our being whether we’re awake or asleep, conscious or unconscious. Most stories, regardless of the medium in which they’re told, include a transformation from misfortune to fortune.
What might that look like in the real world?
While writing this book, I’ve experienced numerous tests and trials, along with a seriously dark night of the soul—one of the benefits of “teaching what you need to learn most.” It is challenging to research this topic, examine the issues, and process the findings without taking a hard look at oneself. And, yes, I did say “benefit.” Let me explain.
I’ve always considered myself an outsider. I have never felt like I fit in with the rest of the group. It doesn’t matter if it’s a neighborhood party, a family reunion, or a group I’m leading. It’s strange, I admit.
My family moved around a lot when I was a kid. My father was a chef. Not that being in the food business meant we had to move every few years. Let's just say that, for my dad, the grass was always greener somewhere else. And when I say somewhere else, I'm not talking about moving across town or over to the next city. I’m talking about leap-frogging entire states.
When people ask me where I’m from, it’s a hard question to answer. Growing up (and without admitting we had Gypsy blood) it was easiest just to say “the East Coast.” From when I was born until the time I graduated high school, I had lived in Maine, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania (twice), New Jersey (twice), Maryland, and Virginia. At that point, I disembarked from the caravan. My parents and brother continued moving south, eventually stopping in Florida (and only then because they ran out of land mass).
By the time I was 12 years old, I had attended three different elementary schools and four middle schools. I was the outsider. Can we talk about being picked last for teams in gym class? It got to the point that I’d enter a new school and not even bother to make friends because I was certain I wouldn’t be there that long.
Yes, it was painful as a kid to deal with the teasing and rejection warranted for Norman New Guy. Did it leave a mark? Sure it did. But here’s what happens with shadow beliefs: They shape and mold us, but it doesn’t have to be in only a bad way. They also transform us.
Today, I use the outsider identity as an edge, and I have for as long as I can remember. Since I see things differently, it gives me a unique perspective. Offering a different point of view can be an asset. Writing a book, for example, provides me with an opportunity to present a viewpoint that’s off the beaten path. Even if you disagree with me, if you’re thinking differently from when you began this book, I'm elated.
Consider how your shadow beliefs have enabled you to set yourself apart. Would you be the person you are today without the misfortunes you have endured? As the hero of your journey, you instinctively take the bull by the horns and transform misfortune into fortune.
Most of us will do anything to avoid misfortune. It hardly seems like any good could come from it, but not so. Misfortune is somewhat of a misnomer. Fortune is best derived from misfortune by simply eliminating the “mis”es (mistakes, misinformed, misguided, misunderstood). We accomplish this by actually experiencing those misfortunes—one by one—and using the knowledge gained as the building blocks of wisdom. Over time, we become informed, guided, and understood. This is our good fortune.
Rather than repressing and denying shadow beliefs, be grateful for a spin on the wheel of fortune enabling the experience of transformation.
Rota fortunae, meaning “wheel of fortune,” is an ancient philosophy referring to the unpredictable nature of fate. The goddess Fortuna spins her wheel at random, changing the positions of those on the wheel. Some are fortunate; others suffer great misfortune.
The Fates are among the eldest goddesses in ancient Greek mythology. The three Fates—Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos—are daughters of Zeus and Themis, the goddess of justice. Between the three of them, the Fates determine when you come into this world, how long you’ll be here, and when you die. Clotho (“the spinner”) spins the thread determining a person’s time of birth. Lachesis (“the apportioner”) measures the thread defining the length of the person’s life. Atropos (“the inevitable”), the cruelest of the three sisters, snips the thread for the exact time of death.
Turning misfortune into fortune is our responsibility. We start by being accountable and then move toward transforming fate.
Transforming Fate
How much of what we do is predetermined by the “stars” and how much is free will? Or is it all a bunch of malarkey?
The words fate and destiny are often used interchangeably to represent “what is meant to be.” It can be confusing, but the two words mean different things. Here’s a quick distinction: Fate is inevitable. What you do with it determines your destiny.
Robert Ohotto, the author of Transforming Fate Into Destiny, believes we are both fated and free—that our future is both prewritten and changeable. He says, “Our
Fate will bring to us everything we need to fulfill our purpose here; but what we do with what Fate gives us, through our creative power of choice, determines our Destiny.”
There are two distinct schools of thought on this topic: those who believe our fate is written in stone and those who believe we choose our destiny. What do the scholars believe? Many dictionaries list fate as a synonym for destiny (along with karma and kismet), or even use it in their definition of destiny. Here's an example from the Free Dictionary: “des·ti·ny (děs'tə-nē) — the inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing is destined; one's lot.”
I don’t know about you, but I don’t find this helpful or hopeful. Whenever the word being defined is used in the definition, it seems like the publishers don’t really know what to tell us and are just spinning a description. For individuals acquiring their first look at destiny, this dictionary definition from 30,000 feet may be helpful. For our purposes, however, a closer look is necessary, and distinctions are indispensable.
Wikipedia offers a more expansive gaze: Destiny may be seen either as a sequence of events that are inevitable and unchangeable, or as something chosen by individuals as they select different paths throughout their life. Of course, there are those who say choosing a different course of action and taking paths will still lead you to a predetermined destiny.
Another way to look at it: You face fate; you define a destiny. We all have a date with destiny, Michael Meade suggests, but must suffer the disappointments of fate in order to arrive. Don’t worry, though; it is not as doom and gloom as it sounds.
Fate is what life brings to you. Destiny is what you bring to life.
Fate can be compared to an electrified fence. When you’re drifting off the path of your destiny, count on fate to give you a jolt that sparks your attention and nudges you back on track. You’ll find it irritating, but that’s where you gather the pearls of wisdom.
Pearls form when an irritant—usually a parasite and not the proverbial grain of sand—works its way into an oyster, mussel, or clam. As a defense mechanism, a fluid is used to coat the irritant. Layer upon layer of this coating, known as nacre, is deposited until a lustrous pearl is formed.
So, which is it? Choice or no choice?
Many Greek legends teach that trying to outmaneuver an inexorable fate is futile. If that’s true, there’s no control over fate, but is that also the case with destiny? Presidential hopeful and former Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan believed, “Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.”
While fate and destiny are a pairing, much like peanut butter and jelly, they are distinctly different. Just like a good PB&J sandwich, however, you’re more likely to hear about them together, because together they create a dynamic tension that gives our lives meaning and purpose. Ohotto uses the analogy of fate being the cards you are dealt, and destiny, how you play them.
One Hero’s Destiny
The hero’s role is to serve and to sacrifice. Consider the role of Michael Corleone, the character played by Al Pacino in The Godfather. At the beginning of the movie he is a military hero attending Dartmouth, trying to escape the legacy of the crime family into which he was born. This is the ordinary world for Michael. He assures his fiancé with the words, “That’s my family, Kay, that’s not me.”
The special world centers on Michael’s father, Don Vito Corleone, the Godfather (Marlon Brando), who heads one of the five crime families controlling New York in the mid to late 1940s. Don Corleone is a powerful and respected crime boss but is losing power because he disapproves of getting into the business of narcotics.
Michael has always rebelled against the family business and wants no part of it. His call to adventure comes with the assassination attempt on his father. Michael can no longer refuse the call and goes to the hospital to reaffirm loyalty to his father and mentor. Michael crosses the threshold when he discovers the hospital abandoned and his father defenseless against another imminent mob hit. He tells his father, “I’m with you now.” He is now firmly ensconced in the special world of the family business. He protects his father and learns Police Captain McCluskey is working for one of the other crime families.
On the road of trials, Michael confronts the corrupt McCluskey and drug kingpin Virgil Sollozzo, the men responsible for the attempt on his father’s life. His brother Sonny (James Caan) and adopted brother, consigliere Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall), are Michael’s allies in planning the murder of these two enemies. Sonny is concerned Michael is doing this for revenge. Michael assures him, “It’s not personal—it’s strictly business.”
The approach to the inmost cave is the careful planting of the weapon in the bathroom of the Italian restaurant where the ordeal takes place. After much nervousness and tension, Michael shoots both Sollozzo and McCluskey, and drops the gun on the floor as he walks out of the restaurant. More tests, trials, and ordeals follow. When Don Corleone dies of a heart attack, Michael becomes head of the family business, a reward he would never have anticipated, nor wanted, years earlier. The road back to the ordinary world has Michael settling all family business and, symbolically, ascending to his father’s throne.
In an ironic twist, the resurrection takes place in church at the baptism of Michael’s nephew. While being ordained as godfather to his nephew, his allies assassinate the leaders of the other ruling families and execute all remaining enemies. Cementing a reputation of being more cunning and ruthless than his father, Michael returns with the reward of rebirthing the Corleone family as the most powerful crime family in the country. Michael’s journey of transformation (albeit to the dark side) is complete. The new Don Corleone continues the legacy as the Godfather.
The role of the hero is to serve and to sacrifice. On the road of trials, Michael sacrifices who he is and everything he wants to be in order to serve his family. These are sacrifices that last a lifetime and determine his destiny. We may not agree with his choices or approve of his methods, but he is, nonetheless, a hero to the Corleone family. Choosing this path was not Michael’s intention, but it was his fate. Ultimately, the choice made in a split second became his destiny.
Moments That Matter
For Michael Corleone, the fateful moment by his father’s hospital bedside was the moment he said, “I’m with you now.” A seemingly simple act of love totally altered the course of Michael’s destiny.
Life changes in an instant. Neurons spark a decision measured in milliseconds, redirecting life in ways we can’t possibly predict. One day we can be a promising young college student, but in an instant, we can turn down a precarious road toward a life of crime.
We have but a moment to determine who we really are and what really matters.
Italian poet and novelist Cesare Pavese wrote, “We do not remember days, we remember moments.” In truth, moments are all that matter. In reality, moments are all we get.
A moment of joy here, a moment of peace there. A moment of ecstasy, a moment of truth. They come and they go rather quickly, but those are the moments we remember. That's what matters.
The first time you kissed your partner, music that gives you goose bumps, unexpected recognition from someone you admire, your baby’s first steps. And let’s not leave out the “Big O.” All of them, moments that matter.
If you only had 525,600 minutes to live, how would you spend them? Even though that’s a high number, it doesn’t seem like much time, does it? If I asked the more common question, “What would you do if you only had a year to live?” you might provide me a different response. Both answers, though, are likely to involve more of the moments that matter.
We live for moments. We willingly trade misery for moments. Most of these moments last for less than a minute, yet we will do anything to experience them. It’s because those few moments make everything that went into manifesting them all worthwhile. This is what really matters.
Even if the other half million�
�plus minutes aren’t all that great.
Exploring Your Role
All myths are stories of transformation. All stories are about change. The most exciting and inspiring characters in these stories are the ones who change the most. Like us, they don’t start out as heroes, but through hard work, sacrifice, and perseverance, they transform the hero within.
Fate may have brought you to where you are now. How well you play the cards fate has dealt you determines your dealings with destiny. The hero within reminds you, “If it’s meant to be, it’s up to me.” And the rest of the maxim should be, “If it’s up to me, it’s on me.”
Fate is what life brings to you. Destiny is what you bring to life.
The perils of fate spawn the pearls of wisdom.
Be true to your word—your soul is listening.
Accountability is the glue that bonds commitment to results.
Dreams are stories you vividly tell yourself while you sleep.
Looking back on your journey, you became aware of how we needed to change and did something about it. It was tougher than first imagined (it usually is), but you pushed through your darkest days (or months, or years) and shed an old skin. Entering the final phase of the journey, you are renewing your minds, revealing your gifts, and rejuvenating your spirit.
Spiritual quests have been around since the beginning of recorded history. In modern times, we have honed in on the search for identity. Both are exciting and adventurous expeditions that help us discover who we are and why we’re here. Both are a quest for knowledge.
Dr. Wayne Dyer said it most succinctly: “Change your thoughts—change your life.” The devil being in the details, of course. In manifesting something new, we must make space for it by getting rid of something that’s not working.
Part of us dies, or at the very least, is abandoned in favor of a new and better self. The price for renewal is the loss of a familiar and strangely comfortable yet outdated identity. We are reshaping ourselves from the inside out, and it’s starting to look pretty good.