This past week, I found myself living inside a myth—a series of experiences that unfolded like chapters in a story I didn’t know I was writing. Each moment felt symbolic, each encounter layered with meaning. As I reflect on these events, I see them as stages in the Hero’s Journey—a spiral of resurrection and self-discovery.
The Call to Adventure
It began on a Tuesday night. I was driving to ecstatic dance, listening to the “Just Tap In” podcast. The episode was long—three and a half hours—but I was captivated. Emilio Ortiz was interviewing Robert Edward Grant, and they were discussing crows. “Crows look black,” they said, “but when you look closely, their feathers shimmer with iridescent colors. Things are not always what they seem.”
As I drove, I felt the truth of those words. I was being called—not by a voice outside, but by something within me. A call to see beyond appearances, to look deeper into the fabric of my life.
Crossing the Threshold
I arrived at The Interchange, a place that feels like home—a conscious community where I can express my authentic self without judgment. The dance that night was called “Body Prayer.” As I moved, I felt a calmness wash over me, a cathartic release that left me lighter. I had crossed a threshold—from the ordinary world into a sacred space of movement and meaning.
Tests, Allies, and Enemies
But the journey was not without challenges. On the way home, I felt a strong intuition that I would see an animal messenger. And there it was—a raccoon crossing the street, climbing into a tree. I circled back to see it again, but it had vanished. The raccoon, a symbol of adaptability and disguise, reminded me of the masks I wear and the ones I’ve shed.
Then there was my sister. Her judgment has been a constant test—a voice that echoes old wounds. Yet, as I reflected on our relationship, I realized that her behavior has been a catalyst for my growth. Her contrast has helped me define my own path of self-love.
The Abyss
The next night, I attended a lecture on the philosophy of human identity, exploring the idea of body resurrection. The speaker, Father Thomas Joseph White, spoke of humans as “spiritual animals” and “embodied animals.” His words resonated deeply. I saw the dancers at The Interchange as living expressions of this truth—spiritual beings in physical form, embodying the dance of life.
Resurrection
On Friday, I returned to The Interchange for another dance. As I moved, I thought about my sister again. I knew she might mock my experiences, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I felt free—comfortable in my own skin, unafraid of judgment. The dance began with a call and response song celebrating the divine masculine and feminine. One line stood out: “I am giving birth to a brand new me.”
This was my resurrection—not a new life, but a new self. I was back where I started, but with a deeper understanding. The spiral had turned, and I was reborn.
Return with the Elixir
As I drove home, the podcast played the same part about crows at the exact same spot in my neighborhood. It was as if the universe was saying, “Pay attention. You’re not hearing this again by accident.” I realized that I had returned with the elixir—the gift of self-acceptance and belonging. I didn’t need others to validate my journey. I was enough.
Conclusion
This week taught me that the Hero’s Journey is not a straight line. It is a spiral—a return to the same themes, but with new eyes. Each experience was a stage in that journey, each symbol a guide. I am the hero of my own story, and I am still writing it.