Somewhere between the rise of fascism, the downfall of decency, the broadening brutality of capitalism, the spread of superficiality and binary thinking – stories remain not only the threads that weave us together as a society, but anchors at the very core of our humanity. In a world that is on the one hand too rational, mechanical, and lacking depth and connection to instinct, and on the other hand preying on human emotion, feeding off of fear and dysregulated nervous systems – understanding the complexity of our existence is crucial. Right now we need to root into ancient wisdom as we develop modern tools. Our survival as a species is why myth matters. 

In his famous book; Sapiens, Yuval Noah Harari forms the theory that Homosapian is the only king of human to survive and continue to evolve, not because we were the smartest or the strongest, but because we were storytellers. Myths gather people around them. Stories were able to gather around them much larger groups than ever before. Myths can deliver messages and plant ideas in hearts and minds. Myths can form society and spin the thread of its values. 

God is a myth. Money is a myth. There’s a beauty myth around which entire industries are built. 

I bring Harari’s point up quite often, because I think this is a helpful, profound reminder of who we are and who we can continue to become. We are homosapians, gathering around shared ideas. This is why myths are important in modern society just as much as they were in ancient ones. 

We no longer gather around an actual fire, and instead, we stare at screens. Still, we subscribe or follow myths that form our identity. 

Our ancestors were caught in the way the tribe formed and chained them to certain beliefs. We get caught in echo chambers that reinforce our beliefs.

Do we want to be a story told, or do we want to be part of the storytelling? Can we recognize myths as mirrors of human experience? Instead of something to believe in, mythology can offer us a doorway into the unknown, into the unconscious, into where more is possible.  

What Do We Mean by Myth?

Myths Are Not Lies, They Are Maps

Mythology tells us about who we are. It speaks a symbolic language that awakens in us connection to our ancestors, deeper understanding of our reality, and a more well rounded sense of identity. But only if we learn to see that “we are every character in the story” – a phrase I’ve heard my teacher, professor Douglas Brooks, say over and over again. I’ve also heard him say that; “myths are lies told in service of a greater truth.”

J.R.R Tolkien, in a famous exchange with C.S Lewis, said that myths were “inventions about the truth.” But do stories only tell us about reality, or do stories also contribute to the formation of reality? Do fairytales reflect to us our own inner landscape through archetypal imagery, or do they also craft the way we not only view, but also envision, and therefore manifest our lives? 

Mythology not only roots us in the soil of our origin, it leads us into who we are becoming. It doesn’t only teach us about ourselves through archetypal lenses, it directs us through our creativity into our capacity to shape the world. When we learn how myths shape culture and identity, we become keepers of a most powerful, precious tool, as we simultaneously sit with the humility of being part of a larger story.  

Joseph Campbell said that: “The myth is the public dream, and the dream is the private myth,” weaving the collective and the personal through the unconscious. Myths guide us through a world much larger than our own individuality, reminding us that we are each vast – each a collection of many archetypes and plots – and that we are each a character in a giant collection of stories. 

In a time like now, when so many of us feel disempowered by what we see and and what we experience in the world, the relevance of mythology roars loud as it calls us to do the deep work of an explorer, a seeker, a pilgrim. We read the map that a mythic heroine draws for us in the sand, and we make new maps as we carve new pathways in uncharted territories. 

We see ourselves in characters. And sometimes we don’t see ourselves in characters. The ones we deny and don’t recognize as our own, are usually aspects of our shadow. Carl Jung gave us the thread that weaves together myths and psychology, and in his work has helped us see and experience why myth matters, and how we can not only understand, but also grow who we are through our adventures in lands of stories. The more willing we are to turn toward the shadow as our own, the more wisdom we can excavate from our depths. 

From Ancient Firesides to Modern Screens

We used to sit by the fire with our community. The elders would tell us stories about things that happened and things that didn’t, things that live in the dungeons of the imagination, and things that breathe the air of our aspiration. 

Stories inspired people to be courageous, warned children of dangers, explained mysteries, and pulled many together around a shared idea that could mobilize a large group. 

Myths remind us that we are stronger together than we are on our own.  

Stories helped ancient civilizations develop. They shaped a world around a mother goddess. And they also helped the patriarchy rise, as it made men fear the power of the feminine, and women turn against one another. 

Stories were passed down from ear to ear, turning the listener to the storyteller, generation after generation. Stories were written and then read out loud together, or quietly, privately. Stories inspired artists to paint or sculpt. 

In the late 19th century, when the first movies were made, archetypes made their way into yet another form of storytelling. Then in the 1940’s and 1950’s TV brought us more ways of seeing and expressing who we are, reflecting humanity back to itself. And humanity began to reflect what it saw on the screen. 

From the fire of the camp to the village square, from ear to ear to the written word, from literature to the silver screen – mythology and meaning wove together the tapestry of our humanity. 

The mythic archetypes of gods and goddesses have been, in the last century, and still are to this day, projected on to movie stars and pop/rock stars. An average 13 year old girl worships Taylor Swift like a deity. And no one can convince me that Beyonce is not a real life goddess.

And now, at this age, we all hold a screen the size of our hand, feeling naked if we accidentally leave the house without it. This screen tells us stories in quick flashes. We believe the myth that we are barely functional without it. And it seems to be telling us a lot about who we are as a collective, hinting at the problematic direction we are headed in. 

This screen has made our attention span short. Myths in modern life are rooted in what we’re lacking, delivering the message to consume, brought to us by images of skinny heroines in yoga clothes, selling products through a shiny glimpse of her everyday life, smeared in the hidden promise of becoming just like her –  if we just click the button and purchase the damn thing. 

Stories are told now through very quick snippets of information, not necessarily rooted in facts –  ideas you must gather around unquestionably, put a like on, and share. If you don’t agree, you might be banned from the circle you always thought you belonged to. 

And not only that, but some stories now are no longer told by humans. You can simply, oh so easily, write a prompt, and bam! Your BFF, ChatGPT, easily whips together a story for you.

Is this the story we want to tell? Is this an archetype we want to live up to? 

Why Myths Still Matter in Modern Life

Myths as Mirrors of Human Experience

Right now humanity is facing a major crisis, or several major crises actually, and the importance of myth today is as crucial as it has ever been to our survival. 

Yes, storytelling is necessary for our survival. The myth of Scheherazade, the heroine of Arabian Nights, reminds us of this deep, perhaps unconscious understanding that our species depends on our ability to tell stories. Scheherazade told stories for 1001 consecutive nights, each ended with a cliffhanger. By doing so, she saved her own life, and the lives of many other women. You see, the Sultan brought a new bride to his bed every night, and had her killed by morning. Our heroine captivated him with her storytelling, and she lived to tell the tale. Literally. This myth echoes Yuval Noah Harari’s theory – humans need stories to survive. 

Human experience is rich, profound, and complex. Labyrinths that hide in them the monstrosity of our humanity are important to recognize. There are towers that hold captive the maiden of our inner most delicate heart. There are dragons and lion-men that roam the inner landscapes. There are heroines and heroes that reflect back the culture, or show us who we are through the prism of society. 

When we experience something terrifying, we might be able to move through it because of characters we met in stories. Stories told to us when we are young leave imprints. Stories we read as adults become lanterns. They don’t necessarily directly guide our way, but they leave marks within our psyche, and unconsciously influence our thinking and being. When something deeply saddening is happening in a movie, we cry and grieve as if it was happening to us, because on some level, it is happening to us. 

When we dream of something and seek to make it into a reality, it may be that the over-culture has planted that dream deep in our psyche. Little girls don’t dream about their wedding day because that’s what they were born to dream of. Our generation may not imprint that on our little girls anymore, thankfully, but what are we planting in there? 

Sci-Fi books were written about this moment and where it leads humanity. Dystopian novels were written about this. Movies were made. And yet here we are, following the thread of the plot we ourselves wrote as our very end.

Must we play this game of modern mythology when we know so well who wins at the end? 

We have the capacity to change the plot, to let other characters lead instead of the bully. We have the ability to recognize our shadows – collectively and personally – and embody archetypes of creativity and abundance. We must leave room for the necessary nourishing darkness, and for healthy dissolution (goddesses like Kali of the Hindus for example, or the scary Celtic Winter crone, the Cailleach). Embracing the nourishing darkness, instead of letting The Nothing from the Never Ending Story destroy Fantasia, and then give rise to Fascism that threatens to swallow anything beautiful in the world, is necessary. The nourishing darkness is where imagination and creativity are born. But the destructive, demonic aspects of the culture are still part of us. And we have to figure out how to integrate it. 

Archetypes Hidden in Everyday Stories

Sometimes reality seems so bland and gray that we forget that even the mundane itself is a symbol. Archetypes are part of our lives whether we are aware of it or not.

I try to work on the tendency to become a robotic beast as soon as I get behind the wheel. But sometimes the cyborg-alien creature takes over, you know? On the freeway, when someone else is being particularly assholish, and I’m in a particularly bitchy mood… Don’t tell me that you’ve never been a monstrous cyborg-alien creature in your car. 

There are days when the inner conversation is too painful to bear. Maybe the inner dragon that you’ve always viewed as monstrous hasn’t been fed in years, and you’ve sent it to exile and tried to forget about it. You were told this part of you is bad. And you can’t be bad. So the wounds keep bleeding. On those days, when you hurt the dragon so severely, it becomes either difficult to get out of bed, or poisonous to be around you. Not because of the dragon’s dangerous fire, but because of the part of you that keeps trying to slay it. 

Sometimes you feel like you’re the match girl, and your heart goes through a death in a frozen world that passes you by. Other times you’re flying too close to the sun, and the glue that keeps your wings together melts, and you fall to your death – disappointed, discouraged, broken. 

There are days when you feel like Lancelot. And days that make you experience the magic of transformation that you are afraid will turn you back into a pumpkin when the clock strikes midnight. Some days coil around you like the serpent on the tree of knowledge – delivering the fruit that will make you smarter, and also exile you from the Garden Of Eden. 

From the virus infected zombies of the Walking Dead through the fungi infected zombies of The Last Of Us, you cannot ignore the feeling of discomfort when you realize that they echo the mental illness and drug addiction in some unhoused and uncared for people in LA. This is not an insult to the weak and vulnerable in our society, but a cry of criticism of our culture that allows for this kind of neglect and injustice to spread. How are we walking by, or crossing the street, feeling guilty, of course, but continuing on with our day?

Sometimes we’re Odysseus, lost at sea, trying to get back home. Life keeps pushing us from island to island, from trouble to trouble, from this desire to the other, and we’re not sure that we’ll ever arrive back at the shore of who we are. 

If you are a story lover, you learn to see archetypes in everyday life. You learn to recognize the archetypal energy of a season in the rhythm of your life. You begin to see the archetypes of the zodiac signs reflecting back at you in the mirror.  

Why Myth Matters Now More Than Ever

Complexity Is the New Sacred

It takes courage in our day and age to not fall prey to the tempting glow of simple solutions, black or white thinking, and superficial promises that have no anchor in reality, like those religions offer. 

Reality is complex. Reality is sacred. Your life is sacred. Mythology enriches reality. Myths reveal the deeper meaning of what goes on in the world, and what you are going through.

In a world that worships the shallow and rejects the depths, complexity is the treasured jewel that holds the power of our interconnectedness and our diversity, of the immensity of the universe and the ever expanding nature of it. 

In the Holy Grail of this day and age, what we might find is the sacred liquidity of life’s complexity. 

Myth matters right now because through the stories we tell – both new and old – is the secret power of creating our reality. 

Myths as Guides for a Changing World

With stories we make patterns. We have the capacity to re-pattern, to recreate, to transform, to renew. Mythology is as powerful as our ability to interpret it. Sure, new myths are important to cultivate. But our creativity also thrives in our ability to draw new meaning from older tales, to excavate new wisdom from ancient lore, to retrieve who we want to be from characters that find who they are by getting lost. 

The world is ever changing. We are not the same as we used to be. Life is a continuous journey of transformation and recreation. The world moves in cycles and patterns of recursion, so while change is continuous, we also learn that we encounter certain pieces of our story again and again. We learn that the world moves through cycles of dark ages that bring on reinanascence. Which inevitably leads to puritan times that end up bringing renewal and freedom, which gives rise to fascism, which results in progress… and so on and so forth. 

Mythology helps us see ourselves in one another, in the culture, in history, in nature. It helps us recognize patterns. It inspires transformation. It offers depth because it invites a deeper look, and a variety of interpretive lenses. 

There are many reasons why myths are important in modern society. I hope this piece inspires you to go deep, to explore, and to write yourself into this difficult chapter in the world’s story in creative, empowering, and fulfilling ways. 

If you’re curious about bringing myth and ritual into your life in a creative, Muse-filled secular way, I created a free guide on Rituals for the Secular Soul. Grab it here. 

If this exploration of myth speaks to you, stay close. In the coming weeks I’ll be sharing more about living a mythic life in a modern, secular way, including a free guide I’m creating for you.

For now, you can subscribe to my Monday Muse Medicine to keep the conversation alive

With much love,

Hagar

PS – Read this to explore more about why myth matters