A third take-away for me from your essay is this observation:
It’s true, isn’t it, that the mythic narratives themselves are not as important as the dialogues we have about myth and meaning? Isn’t that the great inheritance, the great gift of myth: that they immerse us in the existentially puzzling phenomena we’d rather not have to give too much thought to?”
I can attest to that.
Perhaps you remember the very first time we met, fourteen years ago this month (!) at “Fools Dancing on the Edge,” the second of the Fools Gatherings under the auspices of Leigh Melander’s Imaginal Institute. After the first full day of more formal sessions, several of us ended up that evening in Leigh’s room, where we enjoyed animated and heady conversation revolving around mythology, psychology, soul, and such over adult beverages.
There came a moment in the conversation – I don’t recall what exactly we were discussing that triggered it, but I know it wasn’t planned – when several of us slipped off to our own rooms, which were all close to Leigh’s. Moments later we were all back, each carrying her or his own favorite etymological reference work, so we could dive deep into the origins and imagery of the language behind the mythological concepts we were discussing.
Glancing around that room, seeing the heavy volumes we had prioritized when packing for the weekend, I knew I has found my tribe.
That’s what I think of when I read the passage shared above. We weren’t just telling stories; myth provided the opportunity to immerse ourselves in dialogues, trialogues, and every other configuration as we plumbed life’s imponderables – for me, a poignant and enriching experience.
I cherish that memory, and in many ways imagine the MythBlast series you facilitate as an extension of that evening long ago, the circle ever expanding to include so many thinkers, writers, mythologists, and more in the ongoing conversation – which includes our conversation here in this forum.