Dying Wiser #6
Wisdom Through Literature; Eldering Through Dad: A Post-Heroic Elder. THAT or the proof of synchronicity. Take your pick.
synchronicity
syn·chro·nic·i·ty [siŋ-krə-ˈni-sə-tē]
plural synchronicities
/noun/
1: the quality or fact of being synchronous
2: the coincidental occurrence of events and especially psychic events (such as similar thoughts in widely separated persons or a mental image of an unexpected event before it happens) that seem related but are not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality —used especially in the psychology of Carl Gustav Jung.
(Merriam-Webster; 2022)
This showed up in one of my daily feeds this morning:
“Synchronicity” and “coincidence” may seem to be synonymous, but they are not the same. I tend to believe there is no such thing as coincidence—two or more separate things “coinciding” or happening at the same time that are seemingly connected in some way but for no rational or apparent reason. I do believe in synchronicity, especially in the way Carl Jung coined it—two or more separate things happening at the same time for a deep, spiritual, or soulful reason that may not be apparent at the time of the occurrence. This is what it means in the definition when it says: “…not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality.”
Anyway…
This is another way of saying I didn’t know what I was going to write about for this post today. The current pattern is to push out a blog post twice a week—once on Mondays for a more rational or conceptual approach to understanding Elderhood through my Dad lens, lately using literature to do so; and once on Fridays for a more personal, anecdotal, experiential story or narrative about Dad from his life or from the farm. As time goes on, I may pare down the output to once a week and on random days too. And as always, thanks for being patient and for your continued interest in reading about my Dad and in putting up with my reflections on Elderhood as seen through his life and through literature.
The synchronicity of the email this morning from the great folks at Awakin.org who produce the “Daily Good” feeds is threefold (and here are my irrational, non-causal mechanisms of explanation for their appearance in my life JUST when I needed it): 1. it showed up and gave me the topic from which I could write today about Dad; 2. the post is about Elderhood and Heroes through a new way of defining them (which always excites me as I got to learn something new today especially on two things I’m passionate about!); and 3. the author referenced Joseph Campbell (and his “The Hero’s Journey” conceptualizations) who figured prominently in last week’s Dying Wiser installment.
The notion of “hero” has been grossly overused and abused in our society. Too many people are held up as heroes for things that really have no redeeming value in the advancement of humanhood in our world (think, for example, ANY athlete or celebrity here!). Writer, psychologist, and mythologist Sharon Blackie (author of the acclaimed 2016 book “If Women Rose Rooted” — highly recommended btw), is, and rightfully so, pointing us to a new way of interpreting, if not re-conceptualizing all-together, new archetypes of “The Hero.”
Blackie writes:
Post-heroic stories are less about strength and more about compassion. [The] post-heroic journey isn’t about finding the answers—it’s about asking the right questions.
Heroic quests to conquer some form of foe, whether external or internal to self, are no longer relevent to these times. Which is great because the stories we have about Dad, from his humble life of farming and fatherhood, can now emerge as the stories we need, the EXACT stories we need now to nourish our lives in preparation for unknowable futures. Heroic archetypes still have value—these times however, especially these times of Autumn that finds my Dad in the late Autumn of his own life, call forth something different, something more ordinary, something that can be found within each living (and even non-living) soul. We no longer need the masculine stories of Odysseus, Hector, Spartacus, Achilles, and any of the Knights of King Arthur’s court; or even their more contemporary descendants like Superman, Batman, Captain America, or Ironman (ALL men!), against which to measure our own lives OR, more tragically, to wait until THEY arrive to “save us.” We need stories of a different kind now. These post-heroic times are a’calling for different stories to illuminate the way ahead. We need stories of compassion, empathy, and humble service; stories that encourage community, relationship, and selfless dedication; stories whose values are different from the archetypical “superhuman,” masculine heroics. In other words, we need the kinds of stories authored quietly by my Dad’s lived life.
I LOVE this! Because in this re-conceptualization, Dad is a “post-heroic” Elder. This is confirmation that Dad’s Eldering stories, even when we have to reflect and/or work hard at uncovering the teachings, because he wasn’t and isn’t explicit in his Elderings, are among the exact stories we need for our own exemplars and archetypes of Elderhood in these “edge dwelling times.” Blackie’s premise in her work is a call to return to a more maternalistic value set; an emphasis of the Divine Feminine and the ideals that can still be found in some indigenous cultures that are either led by women or hold women as THE standard-bearers when it comes to the creation of humans.
In large ways, Dad’s Eldering ideals are grounded in the Divine Feminine—Dad never went on vision quests, sought Holy Grails, sacked Troy, rescued damsels (that we know of!), or slayed dragons. But he did give life to crops and kids; he provided shelter and safe harbor; he let his actions speak instead of giving them voice; he would offer you anything if you needed it, and he had the means to provide it. And he was never not kind, deferential, and humble.
Dad is standing on the edge of his most important threshold now—one that in time each of us will find ourselves, though we will have arrived at our own unique threshold in our own unique ways. We benefit, along our own journeys, from the gifts and stories of our ancestors and Elders. Dad was “waiting in the dark woods,” even though he didn’t know he was waiting, for us to stumble upon him seeking something we didn’t know we had lost or even needed: the stories of his gifts; of his unique and humble life.
All Kristin, Sammy, and I are doing right now for Dad, in our home, is serving him so that the last step he’ll take, the one that puts him on the other side of that threshold, the one only he can take, will be one enveloped in love.
AND so that some of the stories he lived can be shared for our collective benefit.
I don’t think I have ever called Dad a hero, at least not out loud and in the presence of company. If he were ever called one, he’d laugh. Or more likely now, he’d cry.
But I’ll say it now: because he remains the kindest person I know; because he got up each day on the farm and did what was needed without complaint and even when he didn’t feel well or when there was no promise of ample financial compensation; because he still lives a humble life, one that we would all benefit from emulating; because he was never afraid of hard work; because right now, even though the last thing he ever wanted to do was trouble anyone else, he is vulnerable, and needs help, and is scared at times, and is allowing us to know all this and yet still be next to him on his most difficult and inconceivable path; because behind his facade of quiet strength, pride, and introversion was a man who was actually all heart; and because his life remains the greatest teaching a son could ever, EVER ask for let alone need…
Dad has always been my one and only hero—the “ultimate revelation” of who my Dad truly is and was always meant to be.
T plus 92 days and counting. Each day one step closer to the greatest journey of all.
Here’s the link to the wonderful article from Sharon Blackie: