The Creative Process is a Mythological Journey

In which first there is:

The Call…

a beginning, an initiating force (or event) behind all creative and personal development. The Call is an unexpected event, a trauma, an intrusion into the sedate and comfortable lives we craft so carefully. In creative work, the Call is the moment of vision. In turn, it is a stage requiring of us a disruption in routines, an openness, an encouragement of the mystery. In myths and stories, the Call takes the symbol of the unexpected letter, or the sudden injury, or the surprising twist away from the ordinary. The Call is the gateway, and is followed in turn by:

Refusal of the Call…

in which we assert for business as usual, for the way things were, for the re-establishment of our ordinary world. The task of the artist (and the writer) is to refuse to refuse. We must slow down, and listen, and open the eye of seeing. Universally, the opening of that eye is assisted by:

The stranger…

who we meet on the road: the wise one, the elder, the mentor. The stranger offers compassionate assistance, evokes our openness and our patience. Without the stranger, neither the work of creativity nor of healing is possible. With assistance from the stranger (who is an archetype, and may therefore also be a trusted friend), we cross the threshold, take a deep breath, and enter our own wilderness. Clarity is required here, and intent, and a willingness to open the gate. Wind lies on the other side, and the unknown. Our path lies that way, toward:

The labyrinth…

in which we become confused and disoriented. We seek but do not find shelter. We become lost, and fall into ourselves. Trusting the process is the task here: dealing with the dark, the cliff, the shadow. Discomfort, fear, and inertia become companions. We hear the monster which haunts all labyrinths, and which is our own inner life projected outward. But the labyrinth has one path only: toward a confrontation with the monster. We must keep going. All tales confirm this. And if we do keep going — simply, with trust, with purpose — we:

Face the monster…

and find the beast to be our own wisdom in disguise. The monster is a teacher, a guide, an enemy who becomes an ally. From the monster we learn:

Clarity…

and we move onward to discover the still point at the center of the labyrinth. Healing and spirituality and creativity reside at this center. Peace is made with the past there. We gather up the scattered threads of our inner knowing. We recognize the illumination to be found at the centre, and in so doing we begin to shape the tale of our journey. Above all other junctures in creative work, the still center is of the core and essence. It is here that all parts of ourselves align, and for a moment we glimpse ourselves all the way down into the Soul. When the still point arrives, creative work is almost done; healing is almost done. But first we must make our way back into the world, by way of:

The shallows…

and the bridge, which will deliver us back to the world we departed so long ago. That land now seems foreign, and strange, and we find ourselves uncertain about how to find our place within it. Creativity, after all, is a journey of the inner life, and is only peripherally about what we craft. Creativity is the personal path inward, toward our own discoveries. The shallows and the bridge are ways forward, and outward, to:

Return…

to the world, to the bright day of sharing our discoveries with the community. And yet, because the inner journey is so rich, and intense, and powerful, often we:

Refuse to return…

and instead we become addicts of the creative process. We want to move to a mountain hut, we wish to leave the world by way of the imagination. Creative work becomes its own hurdle on the path. We dream of becoming the eternal traveler on that wondrous path. But, as the old stories tell, there appears again:

The stranger…

who calls us back (and who need not be the same stranger); the one who invites and demands that we share our work with the world — so that they too might see, and know, and be healed. They set watch fires for us, and they wait, and we embark upon a mysterious journey back. We cross:

The return threshold…

and enter the world again. We bear gifts of wisdom and of healing. We have been burned by the light of illumination and are healed. We share our gifts with the community; and in this celebration there is a pausing, a:

Conscious integration…

of what we have undertaken and learned, a recognition of wholeness and completion and healing. We become the stranger for others. We have crossed the wide sea and know its ways. We rest, for a moment. And in this space of quiet, while we are not paying attention:

The cycle begins again.