In yesterday’s post, I wrote briefly on mythology’s function of sublimating the various psychological forces at work in the human individual.

Today, I’d like to move further into Joseph Campbell’s view of mythic symbols and their importance in framing life’s various thresholds and of assisting one during those difficult transitory periods, as well as how the lack of a mythic structure in the modern world remains a factor in the growing mental health crisis that many are now starting to raise awareness about.

It has always been the prime function of mythology and rite to supply the symbols that carry the human spirit forward, in counteraction to those constant human fantasies that tend to tie it back. In fact, it may well be that the very high incidence of neuroticism among ourselves follows from the decline among us of such effective spiritual aid. We remain fixated to the unexercised images of our infancy, and hence disinclined to the necessary passages of our adulthood. In the United States, there is even a pathos of inverted emphasis: the goal is not to grow old, but to remain young; not to mature away from Mother, but to cleave to her. — Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 7

One page earlier, Campbell describes briefly the function of witch-doctors, medicine men, shamans, and other such figures of early societies. Their importance lay in their ability to assist the developing individual, usually a youth, in moving beyond the immature, infantile dependencies that previously defined one’s relational character into that of a more mature adult capable of fulfilling one’s function within that particular society.

In both the previous post and the podcast follow-up to it, the often brutal ritualistic ceremonies associated with accomplishing this threshold passage were hinted at. Given the different challenges humans faced thousands of years ago relative to those faced today, it was a matter of expedience that the ceremonies of initiation into the tribe achieved a radical shift in consciousness away from a self-centered mode of dependency into one of willing cooperation with the social unit.

The quote shared above reveals some of Campbell’s views on the steady erosion of mythology’s importance in modern society. Although the term “neurotic” has faded (at least to my knowledge) in recent decades, I still find it a useful word for describing a general range of what we might think of mental ailments associated with anxiety, loneliness, and other such associated states of mind.

Campbell would likely point to some of the rising statistics pertaining to some of these ailments as further evidence of modern society lacking any sort of cohesive system of ritualistic initiation, or a mythological narrative that is embraced by a majority of the population.

I don’t mean to say that all of society’s woes stem from religion’s fading importance in the lives of individuals, at least in the developing world. It is merely this particular perspective of Campbell’s that I am interested in exploring further.

It is certainly true that a growing number of people refer to themselves as “spiritual” rather than “religious.”

Furthermore, the self-improvement industry is at least worth $10 billion, as of 2018.

I think this at least partially confirms Campbell’s view that the modern world is stuck in the middle of a spiritual crisis. As some of the older, more traditional narratives continue to lose force, what we encounter is more of a vacuum than a viable alternative.

Whereas in the past, the religious community occupied the function of supplying those symbols that “carry the human spirit forward,” we now find ourselves in a situation in which it seems, at least on the surface, to be an “everyone out for themselves” sort of predicament.

Some people, such as myself, are comfortable dwelling in spiritual ambiguity. I don’t find it to be too wishy-washy at all to describe myself as “someone who doesn’t have their mind made up” on the God question. In fact, I find that it has lifted a certain weight off my shoulders.

However, I think the fact that the self-improvement and spirituality sections of the bookstore remain so profitable is a testament to the growing inner discontent many are now feeling.

Furthermore, I think these feelings of inner discontentment are likely higher among those who are more socially conscious and invested in issues such as climate change.

To relate it back to Campbell, however, I do find that there is a growing interest in this question of what the good life is, what one’s role in society should be, and how one should go about discovering that role and making it a reality.

In the past, nearly the whole force of the community, along with its spiritual elite in the form of the Church officials, shamans, or other such notables would be responsible for jettisoning you into your place in society as soon as you reached a certain age.

Today, however, largely due to how our culture has evolved, people are less and less willing to accept roles that are thrust upon them by others, whether it be their parents or the larger social pressure encountered when one comes into contact with the larger culture’s values.

So rather than having a stable spiritual structure that we can rely upon for guiding us to our proper function in life, we are left to our own devices.

I think this is largely a good thing. I would much rather live in a society in which I have some degree of choice as to what part I want to play, rather than one in which my entire life would be, in a certain sense, predestined from birth.

However, this change in our cultural outlook does come with some major setbacks.

Perhaps we suffer from some form of cognitive dissonance. We feel, deep down, that a secular society that makes room for various belief systems is more democratic, more healthy, and more tolerant.

Yet at the same time, there is a part of our humanity that craves the stability and comfort of a belief in God or some other principle that can help us make sense of our life and our place in this universe.

Perhaps this is why there is a notable rise in anxiety in the United States and other parts of the world. It’s part of that age-old dilemma of confronting death.

Given that we have one life, presumably, how best should we live it, so as to get the most out of it before we return once more to dust? Furthermore, how to gain some sort of control over our fears and anxieties pertaining to our own mortality, so that they don’t obstruct our ability to live a life that is meaningful and fulfilling?

To make matters more confusing, should we fear death, given that fewer and fewer people believe in some of the older religions’ answers regarding what happens after it, or should we continue to accept death as a natural part of life?

There are some who see aging as a disease that can be cured, whereas there are others (such as myself) who lean on the side of accepting death and seeing it more as a state-change than a permanent end.

I think this is the gist of that bit of the quote in which Campbell talks about the inverted emphasis here in the United States.

In the United States, there is even a pathos of inverted emphasis: the goal is not to grow old, but to remain young… — Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 7

We are terrified of death, aging, and disease. One can see the signs of it pretty much everywhere. Our image of beauty in popular entertainment, advertising, and the like, often seeks to eradicate our natural “flaws,” such as wrinkles, and promote an image of beauty that is oftentimes unrealistic or wholeheartedly dishonest.

Furthermore, we seem to be obsessed with the latest health regimens, diets, exercise routines, or disease-scare, fearing that if we don’t figure out the perfect set of rules to live by, we will be cheating ourselves out of the full potential of life. For some, this has the odd effect of producing still yet more anxiety.

It makes one wonder how things have come to be so topsy-turvy. Why do we look upon the twilight years of our lives with such disgust and self-denial? This is a question I ponder quite often. I am young now, but before I know it, I won’t be. Will it be proper for me, for the rest of my life, to keep on trying to “preserve” my youth? Or should I accept aging, complete with its bodily changes, until twilight begins to transform into night and death descends upon me?

I’m someone who leans towards accepting natural change as it occurs. I’m still a bit afraid of dying, as anyone is, but I have, I think, succeeded in ridding myself of that “extra” layer of fear associated with the “what will happen after death?” rumination.

Furthermore, I don’t think the world will be as spiritually lost as the most pessimistic among us might assume. Campbell raised awareness about this trend, but he also supplied the answer, which I think is most brilliantly elucidated in the fourth volume of his Masks of God series, titled Creative Mythology.

Human beings are myth-makers and symbol-creators. It’s a natural part of our being. As the old narratives fade, they will still serve as inspiration for the new narratives that take form. And there will likely always be a bit of the old within the new.

The true difficulty lies in our individual responsibility to piece together a worldview that works for us. Such a task is a creative one, whether or not we consider it an “art.”

The world is moving so fast that finding a solid anchor on which to cling seems to be impossible.

Maybe we need to get rid of the idea of an anchor that exists outside of ourselves, and instead, begin asking the questions that lead us to create that anchor within.