I have a student in my Hero’s Journey course whose life I have ruined. Ruined it, he tells me! Ruined it with literature!

And since I ruined it for him, I decided I would go ahead and ruin it for all of you as well. From up here it looks like there are about a million of you so…my devious plan of demystifying literature worldwide seems to be working…

What I had done was explain the various parts of what Joseph Campbell calls the mono-myth and we affectionately call the hero’s journey. A tale that is told on every corner of the globe; the details are different, but the layout and steps of the plot are always the same.

They are always the same. An idea that I find fascinating but, in the words of my angry little friend: “I can’t read or watch anything now!”

To which I replied, “No, now you must read and watch everything!”

Why? Because the hero’s journey is a map, which leads us through experience upon experience until a degree of wisdom is gained. I can tell you how the story goes, but not what you will discover about yourself and the world around you along your way.

Wisdom cannot be communicated.

So what am I doing up here, speaking to you on your graduation day? I’m going to show you the map.

The parts of a hero’s journey are simple. A character moves from the known into the unknown and then returns to the known bearing the newfound knowledge gathered on the journey in the unknown.

If we want to break it down even more, we could say that the hero is called into the adventure:

Frodo is given the ring to hold onto…

Dorothy longs to go over the rainbow…

You graduate from high school…

Before the hero crosses the threshold into the adventure, they are given advice from what we call threshold guardians:

Gandalf sends Frodo on his way

Obi Wan Kenobi mentors Luke

Your parents, guardians , friends, teachers, mentors, coaches, instructors and administrators have all given you a helping hand…or two…or twenty-nine, here and there…

Along the way, the hero is challenged and each challenge builds upon the lessons learned from the previous experience.

Beyond the walls of CCHS you are going to continue your education in some way, fall in love, marry, work, strive and bring new life into the world. What you learn from each of these experiences will lead directly to the next.

Finally the hero must face her biggest challenge. This is often called the abyss and, as Nietzsche once said: “When you look into the abyss the abyss also looks into you.” In myth, this challenge often comes in the form of a dragon, but the point is not weather or not the hero can “slay the dragon” the dragon is a metaphor for the hero herself. Can the hero face her own metaphorical dragons within and survive—can she face herself?

It’s not whether Frodo could make it all the way to Mount Doom or not, but if, once he is there, he will toss the ring into the molten lava or succumb to the power behind the ring! What is he made of, when push comes to shove?

My sophomore friend would reply to this impassioned lecture, “But now I know what happens! That’s boring!”

No!

Why do we tell these stories over and over again? From country to country, culture to culture? Why the same plot again and again?

Because this is how we make sense of our lives! Of our living breathing selves and the experiences we encounter as we make our way through the world. We like to tell the story because it helps us to better understand ourselves and we like to hear the story because it gives us the courage and desire to step outside our front doors and cross the various thresholds we may encounter. And this is so exciting! It may even be what we are living for: the next threshold, the next challenge, the next opportunity to face ourselves in the most difficult of situations. As Mary Oliver says in her poem Wild Geese “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, / the world offers itself to your imagination, / calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-- / over and over announcing your place / in the family of things.”

I was thinking about this the other night, when I found myself sprawled across my neighbor’s couch, watching the Sox loose miserably to the A’s. Her three-week old son was lying on my chest, passed out from a hard day of eating and sleeping, and he breathed in…and …out…and… in…and… out.

And my breathing soon joined his in unison.

What a peaceful moment! What bliss!

And I began to think about what I wanted to say to you. You all, who live in such tumultuous times and have worked so hard and have accomplished so much. Your freshman year began with the terrible events of September 11th and your senior year began with the Rex Sox winning the World Series for the first time in 86 years.

For the past four years, you have gotten up when the rest of the world was still sleeping and come to school. Here you took classes in five disciplines and then filled in the rest of your schedule with Art and music and even more classes if you were so inclined. In the afternoons you played sports, attended club meetings, performed in and put on plays and musicals and, if you had any time left, dorked around with your friends. Sometime after dark you skidded into your homes and gulped down dinner and spend the rest of the evening doing homework.

All of this…so you could get up and do it again. You have worked very, very hard.

And next year, you will get up and…do it again. Because this…this is life! And boy oh boy, if I ever heard tell of an unknown, the world beyond the walls of Concord Carlisle High School is it!

How exciting, how scary, how thrilling, how overwhelming this all must seem…

Now, this may come as a shock to you, but…

I understand how you feel.

All of your teachers understand how you feel.

Your parents understand how you feel.

We are on our own hero’s journeys and though the details may be different the steps are the same and we, your threshold guardians, are so proud of you as you step into the unknown. We know you that you are going to love it out there.

In most hero’s journey stories the guardian figure gives the hero some sort of tool that will help the hero along her way.

In Star Wars, Obi Wan gives Luke a light-saber and teaches him how to use it before he allows Darth Vader to strike him down leaving Luke all alone in the middle of a galaxy far, far away with only a light-saber and his wits to keep him company.

And I would also like to give you a tool to take with you.

I would like to ask only the class of 2005 to stand up. Not parents, not teachers, not siblings, just the young heroes of the class of 2005.

Stand up straight

With all four corners of your feet on the ground

Your palms facing out

Shoulders relaxed

Pull your belly button into your spine

And breathe in…and… out…in…and… out…in… and… out…

Here you are. Here YOU are.
Turn around and you will see your family and teachers who, though we will stay on this side of your threshold, will be with you always.

Now take a look around you at the folks you have been living and learning and laughing with for the past twelve years. You are joined here in this moment, breathing, resting, preparing for the next step where you will go it alone, perhaps for the first time.

The purpose of the tool—the ring of invisibility, the light-saber—is not so much to physically help the hero, (although it does) but rather to remind the hero of their purpose. And as Henry Miller says:

“The purpose of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, serenely, divinely aware.”

When things get tough, and they do, come back to this moment and remember that the peace that you will seek resides within—you have been carrying it with you all along.

I want to welcome you into the unknown. We will be thinking of you as you make your way, and be eager for your return from the outer reaches to tell us your tale—a tale with which we are familiar but, through your eyes, will be hearing for the first time.
And it will be wonderful.

All right everyone, let’ s give a hand to the marvelous class of 2005! Hurrah!