Tag: Joseph Campbell

  • Feed that Flame

    “I think of mythology as the homeland of the muses, the inspirers of art, the inspirers of poetry. To see life as a poem and yourself participating in a poem is what the myth does for you.”
    — Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

    Tell me we aren’t collectively living in an epic poem at the moment. These are tragic days. These are comic days. These are the days that test our character and faith in humanity. And we are not just the actors—we are the heroes on this journey of a lifetime. And so we must play our part. And so it is that some people rise up on the suffering of others, and some people rise up to defend all that is good in this world.

    The power of mythology is that it stirs something within us. When we listen, we connect with the timeless truth it conveys, and having made that connection, hear the call to contribute. Writing and poetry, painting and sculpture, photography and cinematography, theater and dance, music and performance—all are expressions of myth and a perpetuation of something greater than ourselves. Something the trolls fail to connect with and thus seek to destroy. Collectively we bring the beautiful to light.

    Myth works from the inside out as a spark of recognition as something ancient and profound within us that must grow and find expression. We all want to think of ourselves as heroes. The miracle is that this truly heroic character is hiding within us, waiting for oxygen and fuel. We must feed that flame and see where this epic journey takes us.

  • The Call to Creative

    “Et ignotas anuimum dimittit in artes” (“And he applies his mind to the obscure arts.”) — Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII., 18.

    The great conversation brought me to this phrase. Joseph Campbell quoted James Joyce’s use of it as the epigraph of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, and now I bring it to you, dear reader. Always find the primary source, the historian in me demands, even if that makes for an odd first paragraph. But here we are.

    But wait, there’s more. Ovid added, “naturamque nouat” (“and alters nature.)” in Metamorphoses, pointing to the transformative potential of creative work. It wasn’t that Joyce wasn’t showing the way, it was more an expectation that the reader would complete the assignment. In a world where so many are a bit lazy in following through to the end, isn’t it a jolt to find artists who expect us to keep up?

    Ah, but what are we doing here? Just what kind of blog post is this? Are we diving head first into latin? Are we indicting the general state of things today where so many don’t go deeper than the surface? Or are we doing what Campbell and Joyce did, and using Ovid to point to a life of creative work? Let’s call it an open-ended question as we walk the path of discovery together. And isn’t that what creative work is?

    Apply your mind to the obscure arts and alter nature. Be bold in this choice and find transformation, or bow to the demands of those who would have us follow the rules laid out for us. What shall it be, for you and me? Be bold, friend, and see just where it takes us. For we only have this short time together to make our dent in the universe.

  • Crossing the Threshold

    “To see that your life is a story while you’re in the middle of living it may be a help to living it well.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

    Some change is obvious. Quit drinking for the month and you can say you had a dry January. Stop eating for a day or two and call it a fast. Write a blog post every day for a year (or six) and call yourself a writer.

    Some change is more subtle—sneaking up on us over time. Read enough books and you begin to think differently. Walk a few steps more each time out the door and find the scale doesn’t mock you as much. Change can be abruptly obvious or a drop in the bucket that overflows with time.

    We are all writing our life story. We are the sum of all that we’ve written thus far. So which chapter are we working on today? Are we encountering the threshold in the hero’s journey, leaving the ordinary for the extraordinary? To feel the rush of crossing the chasm is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. Most of us feel we aren’t crossing thresholds every day. Mostly we feel we’re in the ordinary because it sure feels that way to us.

    Seen another way, every day is a threshold to be crossed. We woke up again! What a thrill that should be! We know where we are, but not always where we’re going. Life is our puzzle to solve in our time. A master class in becoming someone we only imagined before. Doesn’t it serve us to be more creative with the script we’re writing for today? To be bold in our daily decisions pulls wonder out of a previously blank page. So spice it up a bit, grateful for the opportunity! Be bold today.

  • The Bright Side of the Road

    “We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.” — Joseph Campbell

    Walking the dog yesterday, we came across two women; one pushing a baby stroller and the other walking two dogs. It was immediately obvious that one of the dogs was aggressive towards our dog. He pulled at his leash and snarled at our pup. Where there’s a will there’s a way, and he backed between the legs of the woman and squirmed out of his collar. Game on! As he charged towards our pup I quickly scooped her up in my arms and turned her away from the jaws of the charging dog until its owner was able to regain control of him. After some abundant apologies we each went our way on an otherwise pleasant walk.

    I get frustrated sometimes when close friends and family dwell on the darkness in the world. It’s always been there, and it always will be there. To believe otherwise is to believe in fairy tales or the flowery lies of politicians. The underlying truth is that joy has also existed in the world since the beginning of humanity. Quite often we get precisely what we seek in this life.

    “The way we choose to see the world creates the world we see.” — Barry Neil Kaufman

    I’m not advocating blindly navigating the world without awareness of the darker side of humanity. We must be aware and resilient to thwart threats against all we hold dear, but we can be aware of evil without wrapping our lives around it like a cloak. We may still trust in the inherent goodness in the world while still locking the door at night. Even still, we may be the light that illuminates the darkness that others may navigate to something better. When enough of us choose the bright side of the road the world may indeed become a more joyful place.

  • Of All We Make

    The potter
    innocent of all
    he makes
    how could he know
    his bowl would hold the moon?
    — Peter Levitt, The Potter

    Inevitably, for every high when everything seems to click, we find ourselves in a low when everything seems to be off kilter. Working through the down days brings us to the other side. The trick is knowing you aren’t quite through yet and to take yet another step forward. We aren’t simply in it for ourselves here, planting breadcrumbs and such—we’re here to grow, that we might offer more to those who need more from us.

    We don’t always know what will come of our work, only that we may do it. Making it better than yesterday ensures we’re climbing. We ought to know that the climb is bringing us to the right mountaintop, but every false summit is a lesson too. Making sense of all we make is impossible while we are in the act of making it. What we need is a moment to look around from the vantage point reached. We know when our work resonates. We know when it doesn’t. To charge ahead without a glance at our compass will have us running around in circles.

    Joseph Campbell referenced the Krishna’s dictum and observed that “the best way to help mankind is through the perfection of yourself.” Perfection will always be elusive and just out of reach for us mortals, but we’re all works in progress, aren’t we? Every day is one more humble attempt to do something positive in this world through our advancement. To stall now would be a disservice to ourselves, surely, but also to those who quietly root for us from the corners of our lives. Keep going.

  • Onward, Lisbon

    “Perfection is the fulfillment implicit in art, and [James Joyce] achieved it. Imperfection is life. All forms in life are imperfect, but the function of art is to see the radiance through the imperfection.” — Joseph Campbell

    I returned to the scene of the crime today. For it was in Lisbon that I spent the last days working for a company I didn’t love, with some characters I didn’t like all that much, simply to prove to myself that I hadn’t made a mistake joining that company two years prior. The crime, as you may have guessed, was selling one’s soul for financial gain. Immediately after Lisbon we parted ways, I began blogging in earnest and choosing culture over money in my work. The rest is history (mine anyway). Lesson learned, and passions pursued.

    This time I’m not lingering in Lisbon, but I’m using the opportunity to assess where I am versus where I was. On the whole I’m better, and still a work in progress. We must never rest on our laurels or settle for something that isn’t us. I’m surprised by the blog in many ways, for it hasn’t been the journey I thought it would be, but I’m still at it, even as I’m no longer that person who departed Lisbon six years ago.

    I’ve learned to accept imperfection in my writing, But work towards improvement. Perfection is an audacious act reserved for the very best, but who says we can’t strive to get closer to it? Today, the journey continues, literally and figuratively. Onward, Lisbon. A lot has changed since we’ve been together.

  • Breaking Up with Temporality

    “You give yourself to life by leaving temporality behind. Desire for mortal gains and fear of loss hold you back from giving yourself to life.” — Joseph Campbell

    Admittedly, I’ve had a complicated relationship with time. I spent too much of it rushing from one commitment to another, always striving to be early so as not to waste someone else’s time should the universe align itself to create delays. I write this very blog post in a coffee shop having arrived early for a meeting just down the street. Temporality is deeply engrained within me. It’s a hard relationship to break with.

    That doesn’t make it a healthy or enabling relationship. In fact, much of the stress I’ve felt in my lifetime is related to my relationship with time. Productivity calculations in a quarter, splits on a screen as I try to beat some preconceived expectation of how quickly I can complete some workout, or the pressure I put on myself to read or write a certain amount in the time I have available for such things. Time isn’t a great measure of our worth, unless you’re an Olympic athlete or attempting to solve a Rubik’s Cube or some such thing. Tempus fugit, indeed.

    So I’ve promised myself I’d break up with temporality, once and for all. Maybe not today, mind you (for I do have these commitments lined up), surely not tomorrow (I have a flight to catch, after all), but very—very— soon. How soon? Well, maybe time wIll tell? But know this: I’m serious this, uh, time.

  • Between the Mortal and the Enduring

    “When you are desiring things and fearing things, that’s mortality. The three temptations of the Buddha—desire, fear, and duty—are what hold you in the field of time. When you put the hermetic seal around yourself and, by discriminating between the mortal and the enduring, you find that still place within yourself that does not change, that’s when you’ve achieved nirvāṇa. That still point is the firmly burning flame that is not rippled by any wind.” — Joseph Campbell, A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living

    We each wrestle with the three temptations that hold us in place. Surely, it would be irresponsible of us to simply march off deep into the woods amongst the trees, or atop a summit amongst the clouds, or if you like, to sail off into bliss amongst the rolling waves. And yet it is the desire to hold on to what we already have, or the fear of the unknown, or perhaps simply a sense of duty to others that hold us in place. There’s nothing wrong with staying in place, mind you, but we must remember the price: Tempus fugit.

    To see the world as it really is—to reach nirvana—is to see ourselves as we really are. We are skating the line between the mortal and the enduring, but our bodies are decidedly mortal. The fragility of this life is exactly why we wrestle so much with those three temptations in the first place. We might feel we’re running out of time, or fear we’re missing out on true fulfillment, as we plod along in our chosen role as child, spouse, parent, employee, teammate, friend, follower, mentor… whatever. The shackles are ours alone, aren’t they? Enlightenment was never role-dependent. We become who we will be in our time or we leave this world with untapped potential. It’s up to us to choose the next step.

    We know intuitively what endures. This lifetime is a quest for connection and enlightenment, that we may pick up, carry and then pass the torch to those who follow. Of course, the torch is a metaphor, it is the light we carry within ourselves and pass along. We may burn brightly when we shed the things that dampen our spirit.

    The thing is, we don’t have to chase after dreams, we simply have to reach towards awareness. We may still reach for that place within ourselves that does not change. We may still choose something enduring, even as we accept that we ourselves are mortal. Even as we feel the hold of our accumulated obligations, desires and fears, we should realize that we shouldn’t be chasing anything—we are simply becoming something.

  • Killing Gods

    “You must kill your god. If you are to advance, all fixed ideas must go.” — Joseph Campbell, A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living

    “Do you want to change the world? How about beginning with yourself? How about being transformed yourself first? But how do you achieve that? Through observation. Through understanding. With no interference or judgment on your part. Because what you judge you cannot understand.” — Anthony de Mello, Awakening

    I was having a drink with an old friend this week when the conversation turned to transformative books. Anthony de Mello’s Awakening was the second book I recommended, but the one I said to read first. It’s foundational in that way, when we’re ready for it.

    Having recommended the book so strongly, I went back to it again myself while waiting out a flight delay. The quote above had been highlighted and most likely used in this blog a few years ago. Interestingly, the quote from Campbell was highlighted the same day. A sign that I’m on the right path? Perhaps. There’s no doubt that Campbell’s book stirs the soul similarly. When the student is ready, as they say.

    We must be open to everything to reach our potential in this lifetime. To move towards enlightenment (dare I say). And so it is that all fixed ideas must go. We must consume disparate thoughts and opinions and find the truth within ourselves. Make ourselves uncomfortable and birth new ideas. And maybe even write about it, that others may challenge us in our conclusions. To kill a god surely stirs others, as we ourselves have been stirred. In this way we may grow together.

  • Like All the Rest

    “If you say “no” to one little detail of your life, you’ve unraveled the whole thing. You have to say “yes” to the whole thing, including its extinction. That’s what’s known as “joyful participation in the sorrows of the world.” It’s my little theme song.” — Joseph Campbell, A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living

    Memento mori, friend. This is the whole thing. We must dance with the light we receive today knowing the party must eventually come to an end. For when we are aware of the fragility of the moment and our place in it, we learn to savor it.

    It’s easy to say this, harder in practice when we feel the weight of the world on our shoulders.. Life can be hard, after all, so who are we to blissfully enjoy it all? We don’t need to enjoy the hard days, simply to accept the truth of the moment. Amor fati—love of fate. The most joyful people are the most present and aware.

    When we know our time is short in anything, or with someone, we may become fully aware of the importance of the experience. It’s here that memories are born. We are but accumulated memories molded into identity. So carpe diem—seize the day, whatever it brings. For it will soon be gone like all the rest.