Revisioning My Hero’s Journey At Esalen
It feels like a lifetime ago (but was just last spring), that I packed my bags, jumped in the car and drove three hours south down Highway 1 to Esalen to attend my first Joseph Campbell workshop, “Revisioning Your Hero’s Journey: A Mythological Toolbox”. I’d known about the workshop for at least a year prior, but only now had the curiosity and drive to begin revisioning my own hero’s journey.
And what a journey it was. It’s taken me nearly this long to wrap my head around the entire experience, because unlike going to a seminar, where we take notes, listen to heady discussion and bathe the left side of our brain in thoughtful, organized structure, this is an immersive experience. You’re not learning, “the 10 steps to transforming your hero’s journey” — you’re actually doing it, through play, as well as group and solo exercises that reshape the journey you’re on.
Esalen is a key component to this experience, because it naturally puts you into contact with a different environment that is ripe for deep conversations, absolute acceptance and self-reflection. It’s perched along the bluffs of Big Sur, overlooking the deep azure ocean. Who wouldn’t look out at the waves and ponder their own existence? It is the perfect container for this event.
And so it’s very hard to even broach the topic of this workshop without talking about Esalen. It would be a completely different event at any other location.
To describe Esalen — well, you remember summer camp? It’s kindof like that — but for spiritually enlightened adults. Imagine spartan cabins with several strangers sleeping in one room, communal dining with a bounty of tasty, healthy options, no phone service, very limited WiFi, a dark night sky, hot springs, lots of people in yoga pants, very interesting conversations to drop into, beautiful grounds to explore and a myriad of places to just sit and think. It’s a true retreat space.
It’s also the place Joseph Campbell came to spend his birthday week. And in his honor, the Joseph Campbell Foundation has been running the Mythological Toolbox every week of his birthday for 22 years.
I was first introduced to Joe’s work by my dad, when I was about 17. I’m not sure why he thought I’d like “The Power of Myth,” but it slowly changed my way of seeing the world. To imagine that the stories I’d learned in Sunday School had changed form and been passed on for several millennia, fascinated me. These myths were part of traditions even more ancient than Christianity and more primal than I could have realized. It was like the scales had fallen from my eyes and I could see these stories for what they truly were — universal tales meant to help ancient man navigate through the world. I was hooked.
As for the workshop, I could describe the day-to-day experience, but that doesn’t convey the import. It was utterly transformational for me. But transformation must be felt, it cannot be processed through mere words and descriptions.
What does it feel like for the moon to rise?
How do the stars feel when they come alive at the absence of the sun?
How does a former caterpillar describe its experience of transforming into a butterfly?
How does it feel to be born?
These experiences cannot be described.
They must be felt to be known.
And it is the gift of a lifetime to be able to experience this transformation once.
Again.
The only way I can think to describe it is with a story. How apt. So instead, I’ll tell you a tale of the journey I went on:
While on my hero’s journey,
I found my long lost brother, and together we became The Moonhunters.
I transformed into a phoenix and fought a dragon to save the Grail,
watched my hair turn bright blue,
lost an eye and hand
(only to have all three miraculously restored),
founded a night school,
sat in the hot springs at 4am and discovered a new series of constellations never before seen,
was killed and resurrected (multiple times),
had a late night chat with Alan Watts,
soaked with Chaos,
acquired a luminescent light sabre with which to transform the darkness,
sang songs to the ancients.
I returned from my journey with several amulets,
poems and songs,
and a newfound sense of self.
I have been baptized Goddess Chaos Moonhunter.
***
I went on this journey hoping to meet some cool folks, and left feeling profound connection with many of my fellow seminarians. I received many physical tokens to carry with me on my journey, all of which now have a place on my alter.
The biggest gift, however, was learning that as magical as Esalen and this workshop felt, it’s not left along the rocky coastline of Big Sur. I learned how to bring the magic with me, how to see it in its many forms and how to share it with the world.
That may be one of the greatest gifts of all.
The best 3 minute date
One of the most profound experiences of my journey, didn’t occur in the workshop. I was introduced by a series of synchronicities to a really lovely guy who took it upon himself to indulge my curiosity in Gestalt Psychology. He was at Esalen for the Gestalt seminar, and while we had our classes in adjacent buildings, we’d never had chance to meet. On my last night there, we had a festive gathering in the lodge to celebrate Campbell’s birthday, with all other seminarians welcome to join. There we chatted about his course, and at some point, amidst the strum of the guitars, the beat of the drums and a couple pours of glenlivet, I may have asked him to dance.
The next morning at breakfast, I ran into him again, and he gave me a warm hug and together we made our way out of the lodge towards our classrooms.
On our way out, he took my hand and I looked at him, a bit surprised and playfully asked, “Oh, are we going on a date?”
“A very short one,” he smiled back.
“Well you’ve only got three minutes til we have to part. Better make it count.”
And make it count he did. We walked down a wooded path that followed an ebullient stream into the ocean. We came to the bridge and he stopped there and released my hand.
“Go to the middle of bridge and turn towards the ocean.”
I walked to the center and turned to my left, and looked through the trees to see where all the water was running towards.
“Release whatever you no longer need.”
My breathe caught and my eyes watered at his command. I opened my arms and let go. I stayed there for a moment, just feeling the release. A tear starting to roll down my cheek.
From the start of the bridge, I heard him yell over the rush of the water, “Now turn towards where the water is flowing and welcome in what you want to receive.”
And I did. Opening my arms, allowing grace to give me what I needed most for my journey ahead.
He joined me on the other end, gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek and we parted ways.
I never learned his name.
But he gave me one of the greatest gifts of this journey. He saw me and he loved me anyhow. He epitomized what my entire experience at Esalen had been about: allowing myself to be vulnerable, to be seen and to shine my freak flag far and wide.
And be loved anyway, and because of it.
