Anthropologists describes human culture as “mythopoeic” - myth-making. From the flickering fires of ancient tribes to the flickering screens of modern theaters, Homo sapiens has always been innately drawn to primal tales of heroes struggling seek their fortunes and defeat monsters.

George Lucas recognized this. He read Joseph Campbell’s analysis of the common threads shared by most myths - the hero’s journey, the wise old man, the dark destroyer - transplanted it to a galaxy far, far away, and cashed in beyond the dreams of avarice.

There is a reason that these myths, both ancient and modern, resonate so strongly to all people at all times.

They are true.

Not factual, necessarily - there may never have been a Gilgamesh, an Odysseus, or a Luke Skywalker - but true, in the sense that they convey accurate information about what it means to be human.

Today, separated not only from the natural world but from our own nature by a complex web of artifice, we need more than ever to remember the truth of myths.

Look around. These are mythic times. On one side, you have the Army of Death, which has imprisoned mankind in a world of confusion. Armed with poisons and machines, they seek to consume, like a parasite, everything good and wholesome that people strive for and create.

Why are suicides, addiction, depression, gender dysphoria, and other mental illnesses all skyrocketing? From a mythopoeic perspective, it is because we have become disconnected from our sprits: the fire in the belly that drives us to find the treasure, slay the dragon, and win the princess.

Woman on a mountain

Most myths involve a quest: Beowulf had to kill Grendel, Odysseus needed to get home, Luke Skywalker had to destroy the Death Star. A hero needs something to strive for, and each of us needs it too. We are the heroes of our own stories, but without a quest - a goal that we truly believe in - we have nothing to live for. As a result, we are easy pickings for the Army of Death.

In our society, it is not easy to find one’s quest. Contemporary writers refer to “purpose” or “intention,” and that’s fine as far as it goes, but it usually ignores the importance of spirit - our unique, individual nature. Your purpose - the reason you’re on the planet - is not determined by your education, your job, or even your family. It is determined by your spirit. Is your spirit that of a king or queen, born to protect and command? A trainer, gifted with the ability to instill knowledge in others? A messenger, driven to tell the truth, no matter the risk? The archetypes - dozens of them, with thousands of variations - appear over and over in myths, as well as in dreams, hallucinations, and every form of literature.

Man on a mountain

Groundbreaking psychologist Carl Jung spent decades studying archetypes, and conclude that fulfilling archetypal roles is vital for mental health and effective development as a human being. In his work, he focused primarily on archetypes that are shared by most people - those associated with stages of life and aspects of personality. More individual archetypes - those associated with our sprits, and which determine our specific quests - generally need to be discovered on our own.

This is not as woo-woo or hippie-dippy as it sounds. Every wisdom tradition has advice on awakening and connecting with your spirit. Meditation, prayer, dreams, and hallucinogenic plants are the most common avenues of connection, but the method is less important than the intention. You can’t find what you aren’t looking for. But, if you consciously open yourself up to connection with your own spirit, you will find it there waiting for you.

Switch off the distractions of the world of confusion. Look within yourself. Breathe deeply, and fill the lungs of your spirit. Will your sprit to wake, and then listen to what it has to say. Your quest awaits you.