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.
Honestly, the world of men’s work is weird. Make one wrong turn and you'll end up in a “men’s rights” forum or drinking misogynistic koolaid from alt-right asshats the likes of which don’t deserve to be named here.
It's a fraught space that I’ve seen attract all manner of men, many of whom seem to be drowning in a personal sea of isolation and suffering. I admire many of the men’s work facilitators I know who specialize in these unique flavors of masculine pain, which inevitably veer into territories of drug and sex addiction, depression, suicidality, trauma, and extreme hopelessness. Not for the faint of heart.
Yet I consider men’s work and masculinity a cornerstone of my work and practice. I’ve been peripherally involved in the wider field for about five years, focusing my master’s thesis on the intersections of masculinity, initiation, and psychedelics. Its something I care deeply about, and am always wanting more of in my own life.
To me, and most of the men I’ve worked with, the simple act of men coming together to support one another without any of the competition, posturing, or proverbial dick measuring contests that constitutes most default masculine interactions, is a rare and treasured thing. From what I’ve seen from years of doing this work, men need an immense amount of help, and don’t know where to get it.
Often, the very act of saying such a thing results in a swift backlash that only compounds the problem.
There are others schools of men’s work that are very much not my cup of tea.
I’m highly skeptical of what is often deemed as “polarity work,” popularized by the tantric teacher David Deida, not because I disagree with the concepts, but because of the sexist and manipulative undertones that saturate much of that realm.
I’m equally repelled by the “chest beating” variety of men’s work, complete with big sticks and shamanic ponchos, which look increasingly like New Age fraternities to my eyes.
I continually come back to what I feel are the roots of this entire field – the “mythopoetic” tradition I’ve mentioned above.
I do this for several reasons:
First, I’m big into lineage. I don’t want to offer something that I don’t have any roots in. To me, the mythopoetic tradition is something with decades of work and leaders to look to, who have already blazed a trail through these dark woods.
Second, men’s work to me means a constant orientation towards the soul, which Bly saw as being most readily accessed in men by turning towards grief. Most of the newer schools of men’s work I’ve just mentioned don’t seem to understand this.
Third, men’s work is about healing and vulnerability. Because of that, I am extremely picky as to who I trust to hold that space. Additionally, Meade’s work emphasizes the importance of elders and initiation. I’m not about to entrust my psyche to a life coach two years younger than myself.
Fourth, a foundational vision of the work of the mythopoetic founders was to deconstruct this oppressive machine known by many names: “Empire,” “Whiteness,” “Patriarchy,” “Modernity” – all words that all point towards our world’s collective need for deep healing. I don’t see any other school of men’s work integrating or even comprehending what to me are the deepest and most important layers of this work.
The mythopoetic tradition has always felt like home to me. When I find myself adrift or lost or depleted, the myth world always brings me back. Many times during the subterranean slog that was grad school, the work of people like Martin Shaw, who could be considered a protege of Bly’s, brought me back from the brink. I am truly indebted to the work of these men.
Helping people find and connect with the mythopoetic threads of meaning that emerge through psychedelic journeys was a driving factor in why I wrote my book. I didn’t see a worthy exploration of the crossroads between the world of mythopoetics and the world of psychedelics.
In fact, my friend Ian MacKenzie of the Mythic Masculine Podcast is about to offer a course on the Deep Masculine, which I’d highly recommend if you’re curious about delving deeper into this world.
More than any other man I can think of, Michael Meade embodies the archetype of the Wise Elder and mentor. I feel fortunate enough to have connected with him over the last ten years, first through my time working at the (now defunct) Beloved Festival, and more recently as I navigated the labyrinth of writing my first book.
In fact, Meade was generous enough to write me a beautiful endorsement, of which I am incredibly proud:
“Using cogent myths and depth psychology, Simon Yugler acts as a soulful guide to and through the liminal terrains of plant medicines and altered states. He clarifies how psychedelics have always been part of the paths of seeking and of healing and how they speak to us individually and collectively at this critical time of life on earth.”
Generosity is the word that I would use to describe the way that Meade showed up during the entirety of this retreat. From 7am, he would offer a morning dream circle for those spry enough to make it. He’d continue all day, holding space for the group process, sometimes deep into the night. The next day, he’d do it all again, always with a smile, always dancing to the drumbeat, always present with whoever he found in front of him.
At 80 years old, he is one of the best examples of true Eldership that I have ever encountered. I can only hope to embody his same level of presence, energy, and generosity when I am his age.
I once heard Meade say, “If you want to make peace, get ready for a fucking fight.”
One of the most valuable elements of the Mendocino experience was the opportunity to connect with and learn from many people who grew up in radically different circumstances than my own.
The lives of many of these men had been colored by gang life, violence, and prison time.
Most of them were now engaged in art and activist organizations, using poetry, music, and spoken word to process their own lived experiences. They also used these outlets to connect with young people from their communities who were facing the same struggles that they once did. The founders of many of these organizations were longtime students of Meade’s, Somé’s, and other significant teachers from the “mythopoetic” movement.
Talk about turning lead into gold. This was deep mentorship in action.
I knew that, for decades, Meade has focused much of his work through Mosaic Multicultural Foundation on what our society often calls “at-risk youth” (a phrase which now feels oversimplified and lazy). The world that some of these men – many of whom are now no longer young – came from was a far cry from the therapy office or university, reliable locations of most people interested in myth and Jungian psychology.
What I didn’t realize was that this cramped, musty lodge built from old growth cedar trees would become a heated alchemical container where these worlds and lived experiences would collide.
Midway through the retreat, Meade and his co-facilitator, the award winning Native Chicano poet and activist Luis Roderiguez, invited conflict into the room, opening the way for men to access what has been called “the second layer,” the domain of anger, rage, and conflict. First it was more superficial issues, old resentments or feelings that are inevitable when a group of people have known each other for 20+ years, like Meade and many of the men present.
But then things got way more real. For the next day or two, the room pulsed with the realest, most heated, and most honest conversations around race, privilege and consciousness that I’ve ever witnessed. And to be honest, many of the thoughts and opinions being shared by some of the older, whiter people in the room were so cringe that I wanted to crawl into a corner. In all fairness, the fire that rained down upon them was well-earned. I can only hope that something was learned after it all.
Yet somehow, Meade and Roderiguez held the group together, keeping this thin line of civility and presence, knowing when to lean in and apply heat, and when lean back and cool things off. This was true mastery at work, and I count myself lucky to have witnessed it.
I won’t say that things were all kumbaya at the end of it. They were just more genuine.
There’s a phrase I’ve heard many times: “real recognizes real.” In a world of forced smiles, performative social justice “allyship,” and fabricated virtue signals, the opportunity to connect and glimpse a deeper layer of brotherhood and humanity, especially between people who wouldn’t otherwise have had any avenues for connection, was more valuable than gold.
The mythopoetic approach is a cornerstone of how I work. I’ve often described mythopoetics as a way of perception that sees symbolism, story, myth, and metaphor woven into the fabric of our lives.
Myth connects us to larger stories than just our own. A mythopoetic perspective can even help us reconnect to the land beneath our feet. Ancestrally speaking, understanding one’s place as it relates to the larger tapestry of land and ecology is the oldest story there is.
Perhaps the two most pressing global crises of our age – climate collapse and “mental health” – arise out of our disconnection to this very story.
If you feel drawn to deepen into mythopoetic and symbolic work, I’m offering a monthly online Mythopoetic Integration circles for paid Substack subscribers, coming soon.
If you’re curious about experiencing a mythopoetic approach to psychedelic integration, dreamwork, or just generally learning about the symbolic and mythopoetic realm, this will be a wonderful opportunity to connect with me and an awesome community of other mythic-minded souls and do some deep work together.
Hope to see you there!
Wow, it sounds like quite an experience! What a lot of “charge” to hold. It reminded me of this video that a saw a while ago: https://youtu.be/cca5QWdSTMQ?feature=shared - men’s work is so needed! Have you read bell hooks book The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity and Love? We all need healing from the patriarchal paradigm, thanks for the work you’re doing towards that.
Thanks, Simon. I’m so recovering from an outburst of real into a cosmetic, industrial system. It hurt, yet it brought real positive change. I was othered for that expression of guttural frustration and rage at the disrespect for the safety of people. There could have been a better way. But it just came out like some ancient furr ball. And I think it has brought a major shift in career unfolding in the two days after. Tectonic. It’s hard for me not to feel shame at that rate though when within a patriarchal plastic system of enforced order, and empty politeness. Not real stuff. Order.
My rage at this abuse of safety was tied deep to my guttural grief and rage at the accelerating abuse of the Great Mother Earth and social justice. It’s everywhere I look now, and worse than I imagined, every time.
Apart from connection to land and local community, I feel the mythopoetic realm and animist tradition is the only path forward for me. Becoming aligned to the birthing that will inevitably follow this death process the modern world has entered is vital for my wellbeing.
Have a beautiful day.
Thank you for what you do. Hopefully I’ll join your month long course.