Myth-Making

Yesterday at our meditation group, we talked a bit about personal mythology.  Story, our own personal stories and those of our culture, shape us and run like invisible programming in our daily lives.

John Rowan, in his book The Transpersonal—Spirituality in Psychotherapy and Counseling, says:

To live mythically… is to seek guidance from your dreams, imagination and other reflections of your inner being, as well as from the most inspiring people, practices and institutions of your society.  To live mythically is also to cultivate an ever-deepening relationship with the cosmos and its great mysteries.

He goes on to say that…

… in the ancient mystery schools, one is required to die to one story, one myth, in order to be reborn to a larger one.  [One must] give up a smaller story in order to wake up to a larger story.  Giving up one’s myth may be difficult.

We tell ourselves stories all day long—the story of our childhood, the story of how we fell in love, the story of our failure, the story of our triumph, the story of parenting, the story of our career, the story of what we believe to be true and constant in the world.  With each telling, we filter, and refine, and mold the story to fit our perception of who we think we are.  This is my story, we say.  This is who I am.

The thought of changing our story seems impossible, ridiculous.  History is fact.  My religion is the truth.  My political ideals are the correct and proper way to function in the world.  But, if we look closely, we can see that most of our stories are simply beliefs about what we perceive.  And perception is fickle.

Like every good hero in myth, we must be willing to give up our stories in order to grow beyond their limitations.  It is a death of sorts.  It requires tearing down personality and opening up to mystery.  Difficult, scary work.

I am not my childhood.  I am more than an American.  There might be many paths to God.  My dreams and imagination inform me.  I am not done—I am becoming.