Mythological Sense of Being

Upon actually reading this book, I found myself identifying with Eugene Henderson in very specific ways. It seems unlikely that a 20 year old female living in the 21st century could find parallels in her own life to that of a man who is in his mid-fifties, struggling with rage and alcoholism, but it strangely occurred. Similar to Henderson, I feel like I have spent my entire life asleep to the idea of a “mythological” sense of life. Maybe even more so than he has. Over the past year, I had my nose buried  in books by Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and Michael Shermer - all who are pretty well-known for debunking religious ideology and providing scientific explanations for literally everything in our natural world (and sometimes beyond). While I consider it a luxury to have the tools to make these kind of scientific observations, I often feel as though it keeps me from understanding the significance of mythology and its associated rituals.
I found insight to accompany this notion in the paper “Myth: The Way We Were or The Way We Are?” by Michael W. Sexson. While I was reading it, it was like taking a swift kick to the stomach because everything that I had convinced myself of in the past year through reading books and watching interviews by religious critics had formed this shield that prevented me from thinking outside of my comfort zone and expanding on the idea that mythology is, in fact, an integral part of my everyday life. I had brushed the idea of theology (an more importantly, mythology) off as blind naiveté and that I was a free-thinking, intellectually well-rounded person because I had science on my side. I don’t think I really need to explain the fact that the reality of my thinking was just the opposite. It was as though my life was being lived under a veil of skepticism that was unresponsive to the existential value of knowledge of the origin. As sad as it sounds, it never even crossed my mind that instilling mythology in my life could give it some sort of pupose; or that I did not even have to “instill” the mythology into my life, but that it had been there all along and I was too arrogant to see it.
The line between literal and eschatological beginnings and endings have been blurred. To me, life was linear. It was not until late that I realized that I have gone through my own beginnings and endings without being fully aware of it at the time. Going back to the similarities between myself and Henderson, he epitomized the “ugly American” and so did I. If something was broken, then you fix it. If something needed to be changed, then you change it, no questions asked. My approach to life has cultural insensitivity and I would have been next in line to say, “let’s just blow these frogs out of the water and your problems will be solved.” While those within the African tribe did not feel necessarily comfortable with the idea of killing the frogs out of the water, Henderson decided we wanted to do it for the benefit of the community. He says, “Under the circumstances I might have taken a tolerant or even affectionate attitude toward the. Basically, I had nothing against them” (Bellow 88). Although according to the Greek philosopher, Pythagoras, who believed in the reincarnation of the soul in the form of humans and animals until it was immortal, this could potentially mean sacrificing family members of either Henderson or one of the tribe members. Tears were shed over the loss of a cow because unlike Americans, they viewed the drought as a sign of the gods anger rather than just an extended period of time without precipitation. Henderson (or myself) would have simply assumed that tears were shed because the cow was a beloved animal or just a pet. At the risk of sounding ignorant or culturally insensitive, I have to say that this is something that would not have crossed my mind prior to taking this class.
Eugene Henderson traveled to Africa because he was dissatisfied with Western culture and wanted to meet the desires of the voice within him that kept yelling, “I want. I want.” This insatiable craving was so strong that the only cure was to completely immerse himself in a culture that was so foreign to his own. Even simply traveling to Africa with his American friend could not fill this void; He had to put his trust in Romilayu to lead him somewhere beyond the confines of American materialism and greed. In a similar sense, I may have subconsciously experienced a desire for alternative explanations for cosmogony. Now I realize that strictly looking at a scientific approach for why literally anything is the way it is today is  the easier route and does not speak to us about the conditions of the human mind. It very well could have been a case of my being bored with scientific explanations for why the sun rises and the sun sets or why the features of the earth simply existed. My own blind skepticism was something I was initially proud of, but after taking this course, I was humbled. I faced an inevitable choice: I could either take the easy scientific route that isolated man and or I could take my blinders off and see the significance of stories - how they bound groups of people together and set exemplary models for behavior. In my quest to become a more interesting, less boring person, I think my choice is clear: to lift the veil and embrace life with a mythological eye would leads to a richer understanding of life and leave the boring facts behind.