Headlights in the Ash
There are hundreds of Hero’s Journey stories in all of us and our stories have shaped who and where we are today. I’m ready to share some of my stories. My hope is that in following my journey, you will be inspired to dig in and discover yours.
The Writer’s Journey defines The Hero’s Journey as, “a pattern of narrative identified by the American scholar Joseph Campbell that appears in drama, storytelling, myth, religious ritual, and psychological development.” There is something remarkable about looking at life through the lens of the story structure. It shows patterns, language, and behaviors that have dominated our beliefs. We can get seduced by our patterns which can keep us from our truth.
In short, when the Hero’s journey begins one feels a deep yearning boiling inside. Perhaps we listen, but pay little attention. We refuse the call and return to the mundane. The yearning gets louder. Then, with the smallest inquiries, we see something opening in life; new possibilities. Old ways start to slip away as they no longer serve us. It is exciting, it is scary, we cannot go back.
If you are reading this you probably know, you cannot go back. You are ready to find your new life blueprint.
Begin to trust your new story. It’s a story you are ready to live. On this journey together we will discover the tools you need to move forward. You are challenging and changing your life. You are not alone. We all go through this at some point. We face our challenges; we go through the muck. Know that it’s not about right or wrong.
The insights of the Hero’s Journey become the compass of finding the path of your own Hero’s Journey. By making the old, new we eliminate shame, guilt, jealousy, and unworthiness. it’s time for a new language; new choices; different outcomes. Reframing your story and exploring a new direction takes bravery, support, courage, accountability, and boundaries. As a Coach, I am listening and engaging in curiosity with you.
My story begins on what seemed like a normal, sunny day. I’m a single mother, raising two sons with rakes and lawnmowers stuffed in the back of my pickup. We lived a hand-to-mouth existence and, as my two sons remember, if momma didn’t work our dinner of tacos were pretty slim. We ate a lot of tacos. Avocados were a sign that it was a good pay day. We were happy, then I opened the white envelope…
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