The Return of the King

1. Mythology or the descent into the soul

'The seat of the soul is there where the inner and the

outer world meet.' Novalis

There are moments in time when many secrets are revealed and hidden memories surface. As there are places on earth where the energy is stronger, so there are moments of strength in time, full of change, revelation, chaos and creativity, moments of magic and transformation. This seems to be the case with our present time. All major religions predict that this is an important time in the history of the world. Seers, prophets and paranormally gifted people have made predictions about the period around the year 2000; they foresee a new era and a new phase in the consciousness of mankind. At the same time, fear of change seems to grow. Chaos entails insecurity and a lot of people and groups long for the certainties of the old, the fixed rules and values that we could refer to in the past. We know what we had, not what we will get. These are the contractions surrounding the birth of the new millennium.

In times like this, we need people who can guide us through these changes. They are the facilitators of our time, the palliative nurses of the old and the midwives of the new. They take the form of therapists, advisors, healers, shamans, politicians, old sages or young fools, people who have kept their faith in humanity. In a time where history balances on a knife edge, where numerous situations are about to explode, we need people who have a positive image of mankind and act from it.

Some help comes in the form of stories: old myths and fairy tales that were half-forgotten over time and suddenly become important again. Over the centuries, they lost value and were seen as fabrications, stories for children, false images of reality. Yet they are true treasures of western culture, a spiritual heritage that was passed on from parent to child, from storyteller to storyteller through the centuries. These tales can lead us and tell us who we really are. Myths are like a map of the psyche, a guide that shows not just the main road, but also the small paths, the junctions and the cities, and thus the forgotten perspectives that we seek. And even more importantly, our own home can be found on this map. For anyone who is looking for his home it is an indispensable tool.

Myths can be seen as the software of the soul. When we read and analyse the stories, we realise that some kind of programme has been installed in the psyche, a programme with a clear pattern. Everyday, seemingly insignificant events or choices that we make, gain in significance because of this programme and help us understand the meaning of everything.

Stories and myths are like doors to mythological reality, just like rituals, meditation, travels, tarot cards or horoscopes can be. In a time where common sense rules and science seems to have the monopoly on truth, it is interesting to be led along paths that our mind cannot comprehend. Our quest for material wealth and happiness has made us cynical. Magic is no longer part of our world; we are de-mystified. 'We have strayed far from the invisible', Princess Irene van Lippe Biesterfeld writes in her book Dialogue with nature. 'It means that we have lost respect for the essence of things. The mechanical world has replaced the wonder. We are orphans, separated from the magical poser who resides in all of us. We are no longer connected. Not with the endless stories and experiences of objects, not with the forces of nature, not with each other as humans, not with each other's cultures, not with the elements, mother earth, the world of plants, the natural, the spiritual world, not with animals.' Spiritually we have become poor. It is not surprising that in a time where traditional churches stand empty, we seek our esoteric knowledge in far-away: we learn yoga from the Far East, we look for gurus in Australia and America, we spend time in Indian sweat lodges, but we know very little about our own western esoteric tradition. We have been uprooted, detached from earth and we are grasping around for a place to take hold of. We go on short courses and to workshops to still our spiritual hunger. Not without reason: our collective psychological landscape has become an barren, dry desert, without water, plants or animals. In many stories this dead landscape is the beginning: the land is barren and the king is sick, absent, travelling or banished. We wait for the hero who will free the path for the return of the rightful king.