The Medicine of Myth and Men
Reflections on "Mythopoetic Men's Work"
Last month I spent about a week in the Mendocino redwoods with renowned storyteller and author Michael Meade and 100 other men.
Long before I ever had the inkling to formally study depth psychology, I was fortunate enough to be gifted a veritable treasure trove of recordings of a wild collective of poets, intellectuals, storytellers, and healers. Many of them, namely Robert Bly, James Hillman, Michael Meade, and Malidoma Somé, eventually came to be seen as the founders of what was called the “mythopoetic men’s movement.”
I know that Meade winces a little when people use that phrase. Yet it remains the easiest way to identify this unique upswell of mythic wisdom that catalyzed a renewed interest in healthy masculinity, ancient stories, and soulful poetry that continues to this day.
The work of Carl Jung, his protege Marie Louise von Franz, Joseph Campbell and many other figures in the Jungian tradition formed the backbone to their approach to working with the soul and the deep psyche of men in particular. One could say this all started with Robert Bly’s pivotal book, Iron John, which I recommend to nearly every man I work with. I even ran a 3-month men’s group which focused on the book, and which I may do again at some point in the future.
Many people credit Bly and the mythopoets for coining the term “toxic masculinity,” which they sought to heal by tapping into the “wild masculine,” an often misunderstood term which simply refers to the undomesticated, free, natural core of who a person is. In other words, their soul. This complicated legacy was recently explored in a recent GQ article by journalist Daniel Penny.
In fact, Bly is apparently having yet another moment due to his mention in a song by the popular singer Gracie Abrams, as if to signal yet again that his work remains relevant to the collective culture.
Yet I’d venture to say that the work of the “mythopoetic men’s movement” is only the most recent flowering from a tree whose roots reach deep into the soil of our collective heritage, whether we identify as “masculine” or not. The reason that the work of certain individuals and certain movements lasts well beyond their human years is because they are tapping into soulful nutrients that are buried deep within the terrain of our collective unconscious.
Down there, we can predictably encounter both dragons and gold.