the online magazine about life as a creative process

 

Struggling with myth

 

by Robert Levine

 

 

     
 

For the last few months I have been trying to write about myth. About what it is, what it means to us, how it defines us, and how it connects us not only to ourselves but to each other as well. The idea to write about myth first came to me in early October over dinner with my wife and a friend in a Chinese restaurant in Montreal. I can’t recall the exact line of conversation, but the friend I was with triggered certain thoughts for me as he was discussing his own work. The friend is a psychiatrist who is exploring ways to expand his own work beyond its perceived bounds, which was exactly what I wanted to do in my chosen fields and interests. And it was at a certain moment, either over the spring rolls or the sesame tofu, that the idea about writing about myth came into my head. Not about myth as a separate entity, but myth as existing along a continuum from dreams to stories to myth.

As these ideas started to form in my head, a simple schematic came into view. If dreams are the way we connect with our inner selves, and stories are a way we connect with each other not only in the present, but in the past and future as well, then myth can be the thing that ties it all together. That operates at a deeper level, connecting our dreams to each other’s, as well as our dreams to our stories. It forms the underlying narrative that sets everything else in motion. It seemed a promising idea to pursue, but I first had to define my categories, to address myth in a very concise way to prevent my thoughts and my explorations from going all over the place.

The moment I returned home the next day my first reaction was to browse through my books to see what I had on myth. There ended up being quite a lot, more than I was ready to deal with, from a short contemporary work on myth for the contemporary general reader to a master work by a contemporary German philosopher. As I read and read and read, not only was there so much to take in and digest, but the more I read the more I lost my original inspiration. It was becoming the kind of dry academic exercise that had made me decide to take a break in my doctoral studies.

If, as I believe, myth operates at this deeper level, then it was necessary for my exploration to occur at a deeper level as well. While studying other people’s ideas about myth can be helpful, it ends up making myth seem as if it happens outside of us, in other societies, in other civilizations. We all grew up hearing about the myths of the Ancient Greeks and Romans, conjuring up images of a bearded figure standing on a mountain top throwing lightning bolts at his hapless subjects down below. We even recognize the myths from our own cultures, such as the story of George Washington and the cherry tree.

But what I was looking for was something even deeper, something that went to the root of how we define ourselves as a people (however you may care to understand that) or as an individual person living with others. Not only do we have our societal myths, but we have family myths, as well as personal myths. According to the classics scholar Jasper Griffin (writing in a recent issue of The New York Review of Books), “It is the fundamental function of a mythology to attempt to make sense of the world in which its people find themselves.” And all of us, all the time, are trying to make sense of the world in which we find ourselves.

So as I began to put down my thoughts about myth it seemed reasonable to begin at the beginning of my exploration. Not only because it would give me some perspective, as well as provide perspective to those reading this, but because so many myths are about beginnings themselves. In most of the books I looked at, creation myths were given a prominent place. All societies (and most families) have them. Some of them reach into the far distant past. But many of them, including those for most contemporary countries and some major religions, fall within the written historical record. This is especially the case for those of us living in the United States in the middle part of North America. While the histories of its native peoples stretches back in to time, the founding of the political entity goes back to the mid-eighteenth century or, if we take the early colonists into the equation, to the early seventeenth century.

As with so many different aspects of our lives, myth operates at the heart of politics as well as all political entities. They each have a story about their founding and how its people developed their specific attributes. At the level of a society or a specific culture, myth (like politics) doesn’t happen by itself. It is a creative and selective process, where we take those pieces and aspects that best convey the meaning that is to be passed on. It is created when people come together and imagine a common present, past and future.

Myths are being created all the time. Certain dates, certain times, take on mythic stature as we perceive them to have represented a critical juncture for ourselves individually or as a people. Depending on who you end up speaking to, all things that are good, or all things that are bad, with whatever present time you are in, seems to flow from that mythically important date. In my lifetime the year 1968 seems to have taken the aura of being such a mythic date – the time when our hopes were raised highest and then dashed to the ground. Or for someone from a more conservative point of view, it can be seen as the date when traditional values came fully under attack and have yet to recover.

To take an overused example, let’s imagine that a person is living alone on a deserted island. While they may develop their own personal mythology, there would be no entity to carry it on, passing it from generation to generation. But when someone else arrives, and they begin to interact, to consider and figure out how to share resources, how to divide work, how to deal with issues of power and dominance, something else begins to happen.

They may not only be trying to figure out the details of daily life, but assuming there is no hope of rescue, they may begin to figure out what kind of a society they are going to live in. As they begin to make sense of their world and respond to the conditions around them, a mythology may begin to develop that can be passed on to those who come after.

But myths are not static things. Like dreams and stories, they may change with the telling. Even as they change there is a kernel at the center that remains, that conveys the eternal truth that keeps getting passed on. That is what I am trying to get a handle on, to understand those myths which have influenced my life, my thoughts, and those of the people I live with on a personal, political and cultural level.

As myths, and the idea of myth, can be varied and multi-dimensional, than how we explore and examine myth should be varied and multi-dimensional. Using all the scholarly, psychological and spiritual resources available to us, we can begin to observe that kernel at the center. By looking at it from so many different perspectives, it may become possible to get a hold on it. Only by looking at it from so many angles does it become possible to understand something which influences how we see and understand. By struggling with myth we are doing something more than trying to get a fix on a concept or an idea, we are engaged in the act of critically examining both ourselves and the world around us.

 
     
 

 

     
 

Robert Levine is a certified yoga instructor at Integral Yoga Institute, and has a Masters degree in Political Science. He has been exploring the link between politics and spirituality for over 20 years.

 
     

 

     
   
     

 

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