The First Chapter of a Book I Didn't Finish ... or "On Rebellion, Gandalf, Anti-Racism and the Power of One Word."

Real Talk: I almost finished a book about a year ago. I can't say for sure why I haven't finished it yet except to admit that finishing things isn't my super power. Here's the first chapter. Let me know if you want to read more...

The Rebellious Voice

Great stories begin with a normal person living an ordinary, often uneventful, existence. Note that the concept of “ordinary” is relative. We may think, for instance, that Bilbo’s lazy life in the Shire and Katiniss’ hellish existence in District 12 are abnormal, even fantastical. And they are to us, but to them this is their day-to-day normal. No hero or heroine in any great story starts as someone special. They start as ordinary people within whatever context their story is set.

Hero and heroine stories often center on people who start as disadvantaged or at the margins of their own society. For instance, in the emergence of the genre of American “superheros” over the last century or so, think about how many of these heroes start with nothing at all. Most superheroes are literal orphans:

Superman enters our world naked with no parents and no home planet.

• Spiderman’s parents and uncle were tragically killed, leaving him to be raised by his aunt.
• Batman witnessed his parents violently murdered as a child, leading him to seek justice at all costs.
• Ironman’s parents left him a fortune but they were tragically killed. Before his death, his father was an abusive alcoholic.
• Wonder Woman’s origin story is rather complicated, but she was basically left alone by her parents who were both Greek gods.

Even venturing away from the superhero mythos, we see the convention of the orphan in many of our recent most popular stories. Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker, Frodo Baggins and nearly every protagonist in all of the Disney and Pixar movies begin their journey parentless. 

Of course, it’s not just a modern convention. The orphan-hero archetype runs deep in most of our foundational myths and religions. Both Moses and Muhammed were orphans. Jesus was shunned and rejected by his family later in his life. Even the story of Santa Claus stems from the story of an orphaned child, St. Nicholas, who grew up to devote his life to bringing gifts to forgotten children.

So, why is this ophan-hero so common in all of our great stories throughout history? Is it something more than a cheap writer’s trick to build empathy from the audience for the main character of their story? 

It has to be. 

Joseph Campbell, widely regarded as the most profound voice on myth and storytelling, says it this way in his seminal work, The Hero With a Thousand Faces:

“The usual hero adventure begins with someone from whom something has been taken, or who feels there is something lacking in the normal experience available or permitted to the members of society. The person then takes off on a series of adventures beyond the ordinary, either to recover what has been lost or to discover some life-giving elixir. It's usually a cycle, a coming and a returning.”

There it is. Our heroes are orphans because all of us have orphaned hearts, even those of us who are lucky enough to have good parents well into our adulthood. There is something essential in each of us that has either been taken from us or has always been lacking. Something so foundational and grounding to us that it feels like we are motherless and fatherless, even after we grow up. The fourth century theologian, Augustine of Hippo, says it this way: "Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." 

From his tradition Augustine is speaking of Christ, but the wisdom of his statement remains true even in a non-religious context: We will be restless until we rest in who we have always been. The journey out is the journey in. The call to adventure is a call to our true selves, or as Campbell puts it, “If you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. Follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be.”

I began my first blog in August of 2002. This was back in the dark ages, not too long after Al Gore invented the internet. “Social media” wasn’t a phrase we were using yet. Myspace would launch soon after this. Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg wouldn’t be stealing the Winklevoss twin’s multi-billion dollar idea for a few more years. 

I needed to create a name for my blog. Without a lot of thought I called it “Rebel Pilgrim.” I remember thinking as I registered that name on Blogger.com that I could always change it later. I can’t say for certain, but I may have lifted it from one of the too-many theology books I was reading at the time. I liked the way it sounded, though. It felt true to who I was in my late twenties - someone who was living life a little out of the norm (a rebel) on a journey or quest to find out what life was all about (my own pilgrimage). 

Needless to say, I never changed the name of the blog. When I needed to create an LLC in 2005 to produce my first movie, I remember being asked by my attorney what I wanted to call my company. “Rebel Pilgrim Productions,” I said, again without much thought. I remember thinking I could always do a DBA later if I didn’t like it. When it came time to launch a start-up production company in 2012, I already had that LLC ready to go. My co-founders and I spent several months considering other names, but we stayed with Rebel Pilgrim.

What I didn’t see in 2002 or 2005 or even in 2012, I can see rather clearly now. “Rebel Pilgrim” was aspirational for us.  It represented always having the courage to do two things: to rebel against the ordinary day-to-day and to keep moving forward with fellow sojourners. 

For me, being a rebel pilgrim meant hearing and accepting the call of the inner rebellious voice. It meant acknowledging the desire of my orphaned-heart. It meant that my restlessness was actually nothing more than a challenge to follow my bliss. It also meant that, like in most of the great myths, the treasure is to be found less at the end of the adventure and more in the act of adventuring itself. 

But, a significant side note here: I did end up using that DBA for the name of my company. In the midst of my own work toward becoming an anti-racist, I discovered that the world “rebel” has significant negative connotations for some Black people, especially people from the Southern United States. This led to a time of reflection with my co-founders and me. We elected to change the name of our creative agency - from Rebel Pilgrim to Boonrise. Even though what I meant by “rebel” had no relation to Confederate Rebels, I did not want even one person to think it might. The truth behind what “rebel pilgrim” meant to me wasn’t racist, but the word “rebel” is sometimes racist. So I changed it...and instead talking about being a “rebel pilgrim” I have begun talking about finding your rebellious voice.

That rebellious voice will call us to our great adventure - and that boon we’ve always wanted will wait for us there. The research of Joseph Campbell reveals a pattern that occurs in most of the great stories to get the heroine from her ordinary world to starting her greatest adventure. It goes like this:

• Ordinary World - This is the hero’s normal day-to-day existence.
• Call to Adventure - This is the inner voice. It is often spoken to the hero as an invitation or command by another person, but it actually comes from deep within the hero’s soul. 
• Refusal - The hero either ignores the call, dismisses it or makes excuses as to why they are not the right person for the adventure.
• Meeting the Mentor - A sage appears who shows the hero that they already have all they need to accept the call. They may give them a special “sword” or skill to give them the courage to begin their adventure.
• Crossing the Threshold -This is the first step out of the ordinary world into a more dangerous one. It’s the point to which there is no return. In Peter Jackson’s film adaptation of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring he has Samwise Gamgee, not too far into their adventure, say to Frodo, “This is it...if I take one more step, I’ll be the farthest from home I’ve ever been.” This is what it feels like to cross the threshold.

Thus far we’ve talked a lot about your ordinary world and your inner rebellious voice calling you to adventure. At this point you are probably intrigued by the idea of being adventurous, but there are other voices in your head that exist to stop you. Voices of fear, regret, comfort, inadequacy and insignificance. These voices can overpower your true inner voice. They are the voices of the status quo planted inside you to protect you. They are actually a gift from your ancestors to keep you alive. They exist to keep you from petting tigers, bears and porcupines. But they are not helpful to you when you realize that you are called to something more. These voices that cry, “Safety and comfort!” are the first dragons to slay before an adventure can even begin. They want you to refuse your call.

And you will. We all do. Until an outside voice challenges our inner dialogue. Enter the mentor. This is the Gandalf to your Frodo, the Kenobi to your Skywalker and the Mordecei to your Esther. It’s an outsider who reminds you who you really are. It exists to get you to accept your true calling and cross the threshold that begins the adventure that sparks the rest of your life.

Ultimately, to start a new pilgrimage one word becomes essential. It’s the only word that can launch an adventure. Your mentor cannot say the word for you. It must come from you and you alone. Saying this one word is the first moment your truer self is spoken into the cosmos. And speaking this word takes all of these ideas and concepts out of the realm of fantasy and into the real world. It’s when you cross the threshold. This is the first word of every adventure ever taken.

That word is “yes.” 

And let me tell you how I personally discovered it’s life-altering power…