by Will Craig
In many cultures, coming of age is recognized as a rite of passage. In parts of Central and South America, the quinceañeara is celebrated by young girls when they turn 15 years old. In Kenya and Tanzania, the Maasai tribe perform initiations for young boys joining the “warrior class” of manhood. The bar and bat mitzvahs for Jewish boys and girls are a coming-of-age tradition closer to home.
The vision quest sends young men to fend for themselves in an attempt to achieve the vision of a future guardian spirit that also becomes the vision to support the entire community. The quest is common among the Native American Plains tribes. Young men head off into the wild for several days of fasting, exposure to the elements, and lessons in self-reliance as they prepare to enter adulthood.
In most rites, pain, sacrifice, loss, and isolation are all part of the ritual. An initial stage of departure divorces the individual from the familiar. In the initiation phase, the old identity is destroyed and replaced with a newer self. The return marks a reintegration into society in a new role.
In modern society, formal rites of passage have lessened in popularity, although we all travel the road of trials, ready or not. Attempting to avoid the pain and sacrifice only delays growth and maturity.
The helicopter parent who wants to make sure their child never experiences anything bad unwittingly takes away the building blocks of a future life well lived. At what point will those children learn life lessons and the consequences of their actions? Will they prepare for the real world, or will they grow up feeling entitled to a pain-free existence?
We spend so much time attempting to avoid the pain and anguish of growth that we deny ourselves opportunities to become who we are meant to be. In a relentless effort to be happy and joyous, we dissociate ourselves from anything that looks like sacrifice or service. It is in those moments of discomfort and despair, however, that we grow a tad taller and a bit smarter.
The daily challenges we face are a test of our patience and endurance. Sometimes it’s easy to let these temporary distractions rule our world. The spilled milk, the rude driver, the dog eating the homework (it happens—ask any teacher). These tests come part and parcel of the greater trials we encounter along the road.
Loss of a job, loss of identity, loss of a roof over our head, loss of a loved one. The departure for these tests and trials is marked by loss or separation. The initiation phase is the “growth on steroids” part where your world is seemingly destroyed. The return, or reintegration, into the community, comes with a fresh identity, an understated confidence, and a new perspective.
You will endure—and maybe even celebrate—many rites of passage on your Hero’s Journey. Some will seem like a rowdy initiation. Others will be of the strong, silent type. The road of trials is where you become more capable and secure. This is where you gain knowledge and wisdom. It is also where you recharge your spirit and live to fight another day.
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new
one can come.” ~ Joseph Campbell
Crossing the Threshold
The first trial we face is a big one, the premier rite of passage. Attempting to cross the threshold is where we find out how badly we want to be on this journey, what we’re willing to lose in order to gain. The threshold guardian is especially tenacious and diligent at this initial entry point. Successfully crossing the threshold transitions the hero from the ordinary world (conscious mind) to the special world (unconscious mind).
When we come across roadblocks or brick walls in our everyday lives, we find ways to overcome them, or at the very least, we look for a way around them. The limiting forces blocking the hero on this journey are a little more intense. These internal demons and dragons require engagement and confrontation. At various turning points, these guardians show themselves as vices, emotional scars, jealous enemies, and self-limitations.
For Dorothy and her allies in The Wizard of Oz, the threshold is the door to the Emerald City. The guardian at Emerald City’s gate makes it clear: “Nobody gets in to see the wizard, not nobody, not nohow.”
As is often the case in mythology and metaphors, “threshold” has a double meaning. It is not only a passageway, a portal through which we must enter to reach our destination. It is also a measure of endurance, as in our threshold for pain and how long we can persist.
Passing through the threshold of the inner journey involves a subtler internal survival strategy. The hero must outwit, outplay, and outlast the internal foes, rather than do physical battle with them. Not unlike conflicts in the contests of the ordinary world, what gets results may not always be pretty. Craftiness, bribery, deceit, or attacking head-on might be required to take down the hero’s shadow. A more discerning approach might be to befriend the threshold guardian, form an alliance, and gather additional tribe members to solve the puzzle or decipher the anagram of life. Until the hero traverses the threshold, life remains a mystery. Regardless of the strategy chosen, there is no immunity. It is all or nothing.
The threshold guardian is a symbol of the new strength required to enter the special world. Each one encountered provides a blockade, obstacle, or challenge the hero must choose to overcome—and in so doing, they will demonstrate a sincere commitment. The hero’s determination, regardless of barriers and deterrents, is tested at a deeper psychological level, subconsciously, by the threshold guardian. This guardian is often not an adversary at all, but a vital character in a pivotal role.
The goal of threshold guardians is to keep us from easily getting what we want and testing our worthiness to ascend to the next level. They will keep us from even getting started on our journey if we let them.
The initial resistance encountered is likely to come from a three-headed guardian named “Doubt, Uncertainty, and Fear.” They’re not especially mean, but they’re a triple threat of the damaging, demoralizing, and devastating kind. Having traveled this path a time or two, I can tell you these guys are a pushover if you know their weakness. Although we spend a considerable amount of time on “I don’t think I can,” “I’m not sure this will work,” and “What if I fail?,” the majority of what we worry about never comes to pass. French Renaissance writer Michel de Montaigne noted, “My life has been full of terrible misfortunes most of which never happened.”
In the inner world, threshold guardians are best recognized as our demons: depression, anxiety, obsessive behavior. These are the demons that also drive our vices and dependencies, like coffee, chocolate, and doughnuts. Or cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs. The most threatening threshold guardian is our self-limitations.
Threshold guardians are formidable and many. Conquering them requires plans and strategies.
One strategy for successfully navigating the road of trials is to take the offense. Don’t let life happen to you; make it happen on your terms. Don’t just wait for obstacles to show up and scan for potholes to avoid. Embrace the challenges; get creative.
In another scene from The Wizard of Oz, the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Scarecrow attempt to rescue Dorothy from the castle of the Wicked Witch of the West. The legion of marching and chanting soldiers aren’t just going to drop the drawbridge and invite them in. Rather than fight a battle they know they cannot win, Dorothy’s allies commandeer uniforms and weapons, enabling them to shapeshift into soldiers and march straight into the castle undetected. That’s offense with a twist.
How many people do you know who are playing nothing but defense? Their only goal is to make it through the day. Somehow they manage to do so, only to wake up the next morning to suffer through it all again, one more time. And then another. And another.
They’re playing defense, and man is it tiring. News flash: Life isn’t meant to be survived. Playing it safe isn’t going win the game. Let’s be honest—nobody makes it out of this alive. At some point, the “season” ends. So, if that’s the case, why not thrive while you’re here? Why not score a life
well lived?
Eleanor Roosevelt traveled a very long and arduous road of trials and faced many threshold guardians. Her advice? “Do one thing every day that scares you.” In the game of life, the best defense is a good offense.
The most powerful guardians keeping us from passing through the threshold and claiming our destiny are our fears and doubts. The hero’s imperfections mirror mankind and the nature of the human condition. In the famous words of cartoonist Walt Kelly, written for his comic-strip character Pogo, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”
Garrison of Guardians
The universe sent out a casting call for me to write a book about my experiences on the inner journey. We could all benefit from a map, so I figured, why not? I first answered this call six years ago and eagerly signed on to do the starring role.
I recently sold a successful business I had built over the course of a decade. I didn’t have to work a real job. The time was right to indulge myself in the notion of being a writer. Life was good. In fact, it was easy.
By now, you know enough about the Hero’s Journey to appreciate that easy is not necessarily desirable. I was in a position to do whatever I wanted—or nothing.
What do you think happened? Human nature.
I did nothing for five years. That’s not to say my Genie subconscious didn’t put a bug in my ear every so often. It wasn’t so much a boisterous calling to write this book as it was an incessant tapping on the shoulder.
Every so often, I’d be reminded of how much front work and research I’d put into the book. I had already written the first part, “Date with Destiny.” I had commissioned an illustrator to do the interior drawings, hired a digital artist to design the book cover, and paid an editor to make the darn thing readable.
I took notes, did research, jotted down pertinent facts, and bookmarked interesting articles. I outlined the entire journey (or what there was up to that point) and prepared a book proposal. After I had completed the first four chapters, all work stopped.
I was getting kicked in the teeth by various threshold guardians. I’d keep getting up and going forward like you’re supposed to, but I also wondered if I just needed to catch a clue and walk away from something that wasn’t meant to be.
One threshold guardian came in the form of a tele-class I taught. You’d think with all the experience I had directing a coach training school, the class would have been a slam dunk. It bombed. One participant even wanted their money back.
Another guardian challenging me at the gates of authorship was the process itself: not having good writing days (which were most of them), dealing with an editor who constricted my voice, and negotiating with an intellectual-property attorney who cramped my style. It seemed like the threshold guardians were ganging up on me.
The guardian who gave me my biggest trouncing, however, is a man I still respect and admire. In fact, had there been a hooded robe in the closet, it would have fit him perfectly as far as I was concerned.
I had the good fortune to participate in a writer’s retreat held at Jack Canfield’s oceanfront home in Maui. Jack and fellow creator of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, Mark Victor Hansen, hosted this small group workshop. I remember handing my book proposal to Jack at one of the breaks and was so looking forward to his glowing comments, enthusiastic encouragement, and unwavering support. Those never came. The rest of the week went by without so much as a word.
This one knocked the wind out of me, and I didn’t get up for a long time. I really thought I had something special. It turned out that it was nothing at all. After getting the crap beat out of me by a garrison of guardians, I agreed with them all—writing this book was not meant to be.
At that moment, it became so clear to me. The first hint I received from the universe was almost like a whisper. I paid it no attention. The next suggestion was like a tap on the shoulder: “You don’t really want to pass this way. Put the book down.” Not really wanting to notice that tap, or the ones after that, I ignored all “recommendations” and continued to persevere. The final directive was no mere hint or suggestion. It felt more like a 2x4 upside the head, followed by, “You will not pass this way.”
I put the book down.
The forced sabbatical found me questioning everything. Wasn’t I supposed to write this book, or was this a false calling? Was I smart to walk away from something that wasn’t working, or was I just refusing the call? It was all so confusing, and in situations like this, we never know for sure. Looking back, the only thing I can figure is that I hadn’t lived enough of the journey yet to be judged worthy of writing it and passing through the threshold.
Here we are now, as I write these words, six years later. It feels different now and hard to describe, but somehow it feels right. It’s not like I was given the green light and all of a sudden started typing away, words a-flowing. I still question why I’m writing the book. Does answering this second call fall in line with who I am now, who I’ve become? Are the words flowing because it’s time, or is it temporary? If the book is successful, do I want to eat, sleep, and breathe this topic for many years to come? What is my fate?
A calling is never simple. A true calling can be downright confusing. There are always questions, even when things are going well—especially when things are going well. Sometimes we just need to play the hand we were dealt and hope like hell we can bluff the threshold guardian into granting us passage.
Exploring Your Role
The road of trials is about testing your resolve while maintaining your integrity. Knowing the right thing to do doesn’t always result in doing the right thing. As Morpheus told his protégé in The Matrix, “Neo, sooner or later you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.”
Be willing to trade modest amounts of joy and happiness for a bounty of courage and heroism. Use your passion, purpose, and plans to outsmart the threshold guardians attempting to deny your destiny.
Adversity doesn’t build character; it reveals it.
Delaying rites of passage stunts opportunities for growth and life mastery.
Demons and dragons abound. Confront your demons and train your dragons.
Avoiding the pain of growth means you avoid growing. Suck it up. Step into your true self. When you’re not growing, you’re dying. Greek historian Herodotus avowed, “Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.”
Getting knocked down reveals you’re human. Getting back up reveals your character.
“The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it,” growled Rocky Balboa. “You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward . . . how much you can take and keep movin’ forward.”
Going forward on the road of trials, you become more capable and secure. The road is where you gain knowledge and wisdom. It’s where you walk your talk, or wish you had. It’s not easy, nor is it intended to be. At times, it will be painful and grueling. Without traversing the road, however, you come no closer to your destination.
Self-Discovery
Are you willing to give up the life you’ve planned so you can have the life that is waiting for you?
Can you embrace the tests, tasks, and trials presented to you as rites of passage?
Where in your life are you playing defense? What would it look like if you switched to offense?
What one thing will you do today that scares you?
CHAPTER 10
The Ordeal
The very cave you are afraid to enter turns out to be the source of what you are looking for. ~ Joseph Campbell
T he ordeal is about life and death, as well as death and rebirth. Myths and movies mark the gravity of this central conflict with visceral images and compelling prose. However, myths, movies, and
magic are not to be taken at face value. They are metaphors and misdirections meant to shock you into thinking differently (not literally). The ordeal you face is a metaphorical life and death, and will kill you or make you stronger (or both).
Even children’s movies deal with life and death. Disney’s Sleeping Beauty has a princess on life support until the kiss of a prince changes everything. Charming. From the same studio, Snow White dies from the poison of an apple until the kiss of a prince changes everything (yeah, I know, they’re working on new material).
Dorothy suffers her own temporary death before reaching the Wizard of Oz. Author L. Frank Baum constructs his heroine’s road of trials out of yellow bricks. One of the many obstacles Dorothy must overcome on her journey to the Emerald City is the field of scarlet-red poppies. “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asks her fellow travelers as she breathes in the delicious scent. Little does she know, the Wicked Witch of the West has put a deadly, dark spell on the field of flowers. The author goes on to describe: “their odor and fragrance is so strong and so powerful, that anyone who breathes it in instantly begins to fall asleep, and if the sleeper is not carried away from the deadly scent of the blossoms, they sleep on and on forever and ever until their dying day.”
Dorothy collapses into eternal slumber. Ultimately, she is resurrected with the help of her good-witch mentor Glinda, who—with a flick of her magic wand—causes it to snow, dissipating the noxious odors. Death and rebirth.
Destination – Life and Death
Let’s arrive at an understanding of the metaphorical death and rebirth of the hero. Life-and-death decisions reach their zenith in the ordeal. The Latin root of cide (as in decide, suicide, pesticide) means “to kill” or “cut off.” When you decide, you have cut off all other options. If this part of the journey is killing you, you’re doing it right.
