Mapping the Great Journey: The Hero, Antihero, and Heroine’s Journeys, Part Four

The Ogres and Monsters Out There and In Here

In the Hero’s Journey Part One, we discussed how ancient mythology offers us stories that universally point us toward essential truths and patterns and how the hero’s journey is actually a journey from unconsciousness to consciousness. We learned to inquire whether a particular call is ours and if the time to act is now. In Part Two, we considered the three thresholds as three perfect opportunities to reevaluate and how turning back is not a failure but a chance to know ourselves and our greater mission. In Part Three, we considered who makes a great hero (of any gender) and why. 

Now in Part Four, we will undertake our last consideration of a few of the essential aspects of the heroic journey before we turn to the antihero’s journey and then the heroine’s journey—both of which are hugely relevant for leaders in our world right now. We will consider the critically important ogres and monsters that appear ever larger at the three progressive thresholds the hero must cross. 

Fear is real. Villans are real. Ogres and monsters are not. 

When we are little, we are not afraid of an atomic bomb under our bed. We have no sense that world hunger or climate change, both devastatingly real, will rise from the shadows behind the curtains like a boogeyman to gobble us up. Likewise, the hero’s journey is fraught with ogres and monsters rather than real-world villains (they have their own role, it’s just not this one). The reason is that the classic ogres and monsters—think Jabba the Hut in Star Wars, the scrawny-scary and manipulative Rumpelstiltskin, or the nearly unkillable vampire—represent the irrationally grotesque, hugely dangerous, and distorted fears we all have. The bigger the ogre and the scarier the monster, the greater the fear we have tapped into. 

In the mythological journey, ogres and monsters represent real fears combined with the dark shadows of our inner selves and our wild capacity for imagination. They are fear set to music, fear showing up in some wild and wooly countryside, fear that arises in the dead of night as we walk in the graveyard or through that long-shut-down asylum on the outskirts of town. They are the fear that the zombies coming from the grave will make us pay for the many things we have done wrong, especially the ones that were never found out and so went rogue in our imagination. 

Since the heroic journey is all about moving from our small, egoic selves to greater consciousness, it makes complete sense that we will have to travel by way of everything small and scary within us, and then by way of everything big and scary within us, and finally by way of the deepest and most gigantic fears we will ever have.

Very often these fears show up in real-life scary situations—a lawsuit brought by a controlling ex-partner, an eviction notice, or an escorted walk out of the building after being relieved of our work duties. It is a cold and heartless doctor offering a threatening diagnosis, the call from your kid’s school that something terrible has happened, or a maitre d’ looming over us as we are informed that our credit card has been rejected. Whatever strikes fear in you is exactly the attack to the jugular you can expect. We are hitting deep nerves and lancing boils here. There’s nothing heroic about the journey if you never have to cross any thresholds. 

To give you a personal example, my beloved younger brother took his life just three weeks after his 18th birthday. While the details were not fully known, and there is never only one reason someone comes to this tragic end, his friends said it largely had to do with his sexual identity preferences. So when my own son—born female—told me he was transgender exactly three weeks after his 18th birthday, nothing short of terror struck me. I knew the staggering suicide and attempted suicide rates of transgender individuals. (I did not yet know that transgender people who are rejected by their families or lack social support are much more likely to both consider suicide, and to attempt it - but I would quickly learn that and exactly what I had to do.)

Could life twist the knife any more precisely into my heart? Despite my son's general wellbeing given the circumstances, and despite my immediate and unwavering support, I was afraid for his life. The ogres and monsters in me were both real and imaginary, but the imaginary aspects didn't matter at all to my psyche. They were hugely inflated as I had been primed for this fear decades before. Despite the encouragement I offered my son, it took days and days of me repeatedly walking up and down a nearby hill just to get a grip on my new reality. One thing was clear: I was beginning one of the greatest journeys of my life—becoming the supportive mother of a never-was-a-daughter turned always-was-a-son. I would have to deal with the ogres and monsters in me if I had any hope of succeeding in that journey.

As the fear escalates, the ogres and monsters grow.

Numbness and sweating grow to a full-blown panic attack. Retreat becomes agoraphobia with no way to escape. Embarrassment taps into shame. In these cases, as with the monsters under our bed as a kid, nothing of a real and present danger out there is actually happening. But in here, well, that’s different. Try telling a heightened desire to flee, freeze, or fight that there are no real monsters under the bed and nothing bad is going to happen. If the ogres and monsters have tapped into our deeper selves or historical patterns of things gone wrong, we’ll get as far as we did as parents trying to get our kids to sleep. 

Why bring this up as part of the hero’s journey? 

Because this is literally what it’s all about. The call, the three thresholds we must cross, the three increasingly difficult ogres and monsters at those thresholds, and the three chances to turn back or, alternatively, to say press on while repeating to ourselves this is my call and this is my time, this is my call and this is my time, this is my call and this is my time.

We are not nearly so held back by the things we know as by the things we don’t. The ego is our stronghold, our holdfast, and our oh-hell-no. We’ve got to be brave enough to look and find out which monsters are actually under the bed and which ones are of our own disastrous making. Once identified as real or imaginary, those aspects of ourselves must be outgrown through greater consciousness. Again, that’s what the journey is for. We may have been seduced into thinking it was for some great egoic payoff, but in reality, it’s true value is in gaining freedom from our ogres and monsters. 

We’ve got lots of ways to deal with our ogres and monsters in the world today. 

We can uncover our fears through psychotherapy, certain kinds of coaching and mentoring, and even long talks with good friends. We can journal about what causes us to shut down in fear in order to see it better or give artistic rendition to our inner zombies through painting, song, or any other medium. We can walk a hill all day every day until we get ourselves together. We can meditate to clear our monkey-mind or bring our deeper concerns to a conscious team meeting where we are encouraged to reflect on what is holding us back and why. 

We also have a lot of ways to avoid dealing with our fears. This is the heroic kiss of death if it happens too long and too often. Instead of crossing the thresholds, we choose again and again to dodge what we need to learn (often with deft skill), protect ourselves from truths when they arise, and/or self-soothe with our personally preferred numbing agent (food, sex, work—the poison you pick does not matter). What we need to do is courageously confront the nature of the very personal ogres and monsters standing in front of us. Again, this is a journey to greater consciousness, so this is what the journey is all about, at least on the inner level. When we confront and assimilate that which we have been most afraid of, we grow. 

Alternatively, when the holdfast with us holds too long and too tight, we become the very ogre and monster we had hoped to defeat (more on that in the upcoming antihero’s journey, where the hero’s journey is reversed and undone). At our worst and most far gone, we are the evil monster posing as a good person, masking our true intentions, manipulating the situation, gaslighting others while accusing them of gaslighting us and allowing our vice to both distort and fuel our worst fears. 

The three thresholds are much like going through the process of alchemy’s distillation. We begin with what is easy (or at least easier) and move on to what is harder, deeper, and more archetypal. At the final threshold, we stand at the place of our worst fears. It is helpful, then, to understand this is exactly the right place to be. It is where we are meant to be and were heading all along. We are attempting nothing short of wrestling with an angel, which is to say our greater selves. When we win, we are changed. When we lose, we can return to fight another day. Each time, we are stronger, more prepared, and eventually, much wiser. Again and again, we outgrow our fears and cross the threshold to greater heroism. 

The very real monsters out there are not monsters. 

They are obstacles, dark forces, irritating people, roadblocks, historical pain, and more. They are difficult, true. But they are often not actual wolves at the door. Knowing the difference is huge to our peace of mind, sense of resolve, and intention to endure. We know they are meant to be there because only through the encounter with them do we see our fears, deal with them, and grow past them. 

The first attempt at a hostile takeover causes great trepidation. The sixteenth is business as usual. The first bad boss feels personal. The fourth may mean we are doing something wrong in our workplace choices, but that is wisdom. It may, at that point, indeed be personal. But business is fraught with bad bosses. It's the nature of the work beast in many industries, so it may not be personal at all. If it is our problem, we can recognize our choices and grow past our patterns. Again, this is the reason we are on the journey in the first place. A heroic journey without obstacles may be easy, but no one is going to go to bed at night thinking “well done” after an easy day of work. 

For those who lead… 

The mechanistic workplace has left little room for archetypes, mythological sprints, or ways to deal with our personal and collective ogres and monsters. For many years we have had no greater storyline than the bottom line and the admonition to check your emotions at the door. But this is changing. More and more, we are being encouraged to show up as our full selves. As leaders of others, we can join in this support. Here are a few ideas that have come out of my discussions with leaders I mentor in the past weeks. 

• Great leaders understand that personal wins for team members are the raw materials that contribute to collective wins for teams. They want heroes on their teams. The more conscious and heroic our team members, the more we can grow our organization. It helps to remember this when advising someone who is holding on to fear but also willing to work with it. We can ask: What is your worst fear right now? Then we can help them cross that heroic threshold with support—either confirming it’s scary and fear is to be expected, or pointing out that this might be an area where, from what you are hearing, there may not actually be a monster under the bed. And if there is, you’ll be there to help. 
• When we see our collective fears in others, we have less of a sense that we are alone. We see ourselves as fellows, not superiors or subordinates. When we make it clear we know that fear is universal, expected, and meant to be worked through, we foster an atmosphere conducive to the heroic journey. We are not imposters in this journey, we are right where the journey expects us to be (and in fact where it has put us). Share your fears as a way of opening the door for others to do so. While you may worry that this will unlock a Pandora’s box, if that happens, generally it is very temporary. People will balk and test and even create subterfuge if they are not ready, but at least you learn who those holdfasts are. You can help them all the more, or see they may not be a fit for your organization. 
• Host far-reaching conversations with others who have conquered their fears in ways that led them to be a better team member and leader. Make fear a natural topic for fireside chats and town halls. Consider bringing organizations on board to help with our greater life journey as part of your corporate wellness package. I am encouraged by supportive offerings like those offered through LifeGuides. (Full disclosure, I am partnering with LifeGuides on social change efforts but I am not being paid to suggest them.)
• Help others understand that facing our fears is the way forward to growth in consciousness, not an admission of weakness. We have spent a great deal of time making things look all too bright and cheery, promising eternal success. With this balance, we all will breathe a sigh of relief and feel encouraged to push on, through, and forward in more holistic ways. 

I'm Robin Rice, a senior advisor in conscious leadership for individuals and organizations. I lead, mentor and teach at the intersection of work, personal relationships, and social impact. I invite you to connect with me here on LinkedIn or through my website at RobinRice.com.

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