Heroism, old and renewed -journal:ben-

2012-08-24

We held an exercise session yesterday to tell our "Hero's Journey" tale to the group. I hated it, before, and only a little less so during and after.

 

I'm an anti-hero to myself right now. My stories so far in life mostly end alike: tried something really grandiose, almost made it, fell hard, and wound up hurt, isolated and discouraged...to the point where I can't much believe in or really know "me" as a valuable human embedded in viable cultural media, let alone an embodied leader.

 

And, well, that's where the story takes a turn for me, here in the Labs. A leap of faith, disguised as pitiful surrender.

 

Because it's not about me, or certainly not me as an independent and masterful actor who would see fit to tow a large chunk of the existing social order off in new and magically fulfilling directions on a dime, based on some elite designs. That's superhero stuff, and it rings kinda hollow if you listen from anywhere that's close to life or laughter.

 

During our Hero Story session I wasn't really alive, I felt awkward on the spot, wasn't prepared, and wound up scrutinizing my metaphysical belly-button for an extended public foray into self-loathing and malfeasance. It wasn't pretty, penetrating, nor quite laughable either, unfortunately.

 

But! It was surely a part of the Journey, a night in the woods, and another reminder for me (been getting lots of those memos in recent weeks) that I have some recalibrations underway, some limbering up about how I connect to my story and how I may connect to others through it. My Hero-self went looking for treasure and acclaim (as well trained in the default tradition), but turned finally to receive the far greater gifts of humility and humanity, an at-homeness in the world that opens to new adventures made in common.

 

Tomorrow I'll be a center of attention again, inviting others to see value in my work--to see rather how I value my work in my self. Yes I'm worried and I feel confused, hollow, inept. I also have my hand on a thread, my story, my love, and it leads around corners toward a familiar light.

 

ELL is helping me to finish this fight, to shift the game, to be whole and hearty rather than at war within. What you resist, persists; what you attend, can mend. It hurts, at first. The hero is the one that perseveres to help everyone feel bountiful, by acting as a conduit for the greater Story of "scenius" and mutual success.

 

I have known failure as an awful, ugly burden. There is another view, to celebrate those accelerating steps which are leading onward to a great and simple leap: real self-possession, the habit of being agilely at ease in one's self.

 

A word I was looking for during 30-60 uncomfortably meandering moments on the floor yesterday: anointment--I feel ready to do myself the honor of subtle initiation into connected being, belief, and the bravery of sacred service, right there along side the play of sexy good fun~

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