Dad, I can’t believe I’m moving.
I know. These past two years have gone so fast.
I’m not scared, but I feel anxious.
You should. It’s a big step you’re taking. It’s something that will change you forever.
So went the conversation my daughter and I had earlier this week as we talked about her move to Orlando to continue her studies at UCF. Our dialogue was much sweeter and tender than what I have here. Sentences were punctuated with sighs, tears, and hugs. (Oh, what an incredible gift to be able to set your youngest child onward, blessing her to do and be her full self!)
Our conversation reminded me of Joseph Campbell’s wonderful book The Hero with a Thousand Faces. In it Campbell describes the heroic journey. If the journey is to happen, he explains, the hero is initiated by the need to cross the threshold of comfort and face the obstacles along the way. Campbell warns, however, that not everyone is fortunate to understand this and sometimes miss the opportunity to cross these thresholds, but all are given the invitation, often more than once.
In essence, he suggests, everyone is invited into the quest. Some are aware and participate fully. Others are caught in the details, the little happenings of living and miss the path altogether. I wanted my daughter to understand that what is before her is not merely a going away to college. It’s the quest that is before her, a possibility to deepen her life in profound ways.
But the quest is no easy thing. As we begin, we often experience exile because we no longer fit in. We leave home and in that process we confront many obstacles and challenges. These battles are often fierce and leave us depleted. This sometimes goes on for some time until it dawns on us that the obstacles, enemies, and monsters are none but our own creations and projections and that the subduing of these is really the mastery of the ego or little self.
This powerful realization begins a dismantling and provides for an opening into an identity that is not based on binaries, tribe, or even individual self. In time, the path becomes a less stressful and scary place and becomes the field where we eventually come home to ourselves. The person, no longer a child, is released into a more mature awareness leading to the discovery that the end of the journey is actually the beginning, home.
At this point the hero experiences a different kind of innocence (beginner’s mind/heart, being born again) that has been transformed into love, compassion, kindness, and wholehearted surrender in the service of Life itself.
This neat description obviously ignores all of the details of the mess along the way. My point in sharing any of this is that life is constantly teaching us and inviting us to cross thresholds. This is true of the young person leaving home for the first time, the older person retiring, or someone recently diagnosed with terminal cancer and living out the last days of her life.
Having a daily mind-body practice is important in allowing us the calm and clarity to understand what is before us. I find that yoga practice does this for me. Practicing every day allows me to be not just physically flexible, but more significantly, to be spiritually malleable in order to embrace more fully the change and changes inherent in living this one precious human life.
If you’re interested in developing a yoga practice that can be of use in your own heroic quest, don’t hesitate to join me Monday through Thursday at the Dice House. You know how to reach me. We are all walking each other home.
