A few months ago I listened to a lecture by the incredible Clarissa Pinkola Estes, which was recorded in the 90’s. Whenever I interact with her work, I feel as though my life is elevated. In that lecture series, Dr Estes spoke of myth as medicine. Myth is medicine.

When I heard those words put together, my heart pounded fast, the way it does when something rings so true, it vibrates through every artery and vein, reaching every capillary, pulsing through your whole body. 

MYTH IS MEDICINE 

It’s a Jungian concept. It’s an indigenous knowledge. It’s a human need – to tell stories, to pass them down, to hear them and feel them in our bones. 

A story can help you see yourself in a different light, show you your shadow, expand your view of the world, and act like a guide through difficult terrains. 

Myth is important because it lays a layered ground through which one must lose themselves in order to create themselves. You get to break yourself open, lose some pieces, gather new ones that may or may not belong, and reconstruct a version of you that tells an old story in a new way. 

In myth, folklore, and fairytale, we’re not supposed to figure out what it all means. The point is to expand the possibility of meaning. To ask ourselves; What else could this be about? What other pieces of myself can I see through the prism of characters? 

How does society and the culture of this day and age reflect through archetypes rooted in lands and times that are not here and now? 

Mythology invites us into the diversification of meaning, into a multiplicity of pathways, into the complexity of creativity, into participation in the weaving of a culture that is nuanced. 

The power of storytelling traditions, and the way that they have been passed down, is that they offer a view that isn’t reductionist. A fairytale may seem like a simple story with a clear message, but when you start to look at it more deeply, you discover a symbolic language that opens up new pathways of discovery, poses new questions, and pulls you in many directions at once. 

If you’re into mythology and archetypes and the inspiration and insight we can gather from stories and characters, check out my Substack and subscribe to my publication. You’ll love it! 

Mythic creatures call on us to cultivate a relationship with the beastie sides of us, with the magical parts of us, with the eccentric pieces we don’t always know what to do with.

And even though folklore is so deeply rooted in the culture of a specific place, and has historical roots within people who come from that place, seeds of ideas have been traveling with humans from place to place, the way that winds and birds carry the seeds of plants far and wide. We have been pollinating each other. We have been pollinated by one another. Our myths are shared, fertilized by the moving air that doesn’t limit itself to tribe, and doesn’t abide by rules of separation. 

There is Falkor in each of us; a fluffy cloud dragon, who is determined to help us save the world of the imagination.

We each have a hut in the forest of our unconscious, standing on chicken legs, waiting for the wise witch to arrive back, flying in her wooden mortar. We wait for her to make tea. We’re not sure it is safe for humans. We wait for her to give it to our inner innocence, as we anxiously await the little doll of intuition to tell her/us it’s ok to drink.

We all wander into a house in the forest, following the scent of porridge, looking for the “just right” feeling in life. 

You are the wolf that lurks behind trees. 

You are the mermaid maiden who wishes to be part of a different world.

You are the bears who find a stranger sleeping in your baby bear’s bed.

You are the stepmother entering the stage in life when you’re no longer recognized in the mirror of the world. 

You are the seven goats, waiting for mama, but opening the door to a hungry wolf.

You are the seven ravens, waiting for your sister to break the curse.

You are the girl wearing red, on the precipice of bleeding, stepping off the trail (of childhood), following flowers.

You are the man with a blue beard and a basement full of skeletons of young women. 

You are the old woman, unwell and waiting for some treats and care, only to be eaten alive by the wildness of your darkest fears. 

You are the hunter, who saves the girl, but slanders the wolf, who risks his own life to spare the maiden’s, but kills the deer.

You are the swan.

You are the rabbit and the hole.

You are a whole world of characters, each reveals to you something about yourself that you might not recognize on your own. Each invites you down the rabbit hole into a wonderland that will consume you, confuse you, inspire you, and expand you through ambiguity. Each will tell you something about where you are in the world, and who you are at this moment in your life. 

I often hear my philosophy and mythology teacher, Douglas Brooks, say; “You are every character in the story…” 

The more pieces of yourself and of the world you’re able to recognize, to interact with, and to integrate, the richer, wider, and wilder your experience and presence will become. This is not an easy becoming, or a “happy” one. This is the kind of becoming that generates deeper meaning. 

Depth of meaning, depth of thinking, depth of reading… Depth is the medicine humanity needs right now. 

Mythology invites you to learn to interpret stories in more than one way, and when we do that, we also learn to interpret our own story in more than one way. It helps us cultivate different ways of being in a situation. It helps carve new neural pathways. When we understand characters in diverse and nuanced ways, we develop our own capacity to live as a multilayered being, in a world that isn’t simple. 

What stories have you connected with deeply as a child?

What does it tell you about who you were then? 

How does it help you understand yourself more deeply now?

What characters do you find inspiring right now?

How do those characters help you?

What roles do they play in your life?

What archetypes have you always felt rooted in? 

Why do you think that is? 

How does it play out in your life?

Journal about this, my dear. Talk to a friend about it. And share in the comments some of your thoughts. It would be refreshing and inspiring to read what you come up with. I can’t wait to hear from you! 

Send this piece to your people, please. The medicine of myth is the medicine of depth. We need it right now. So please share. 

With much love,

Hagar