In men's work we're often building something we've never built before: trust in ourselves, a new relationship with our wound, a way to grieve without shutting down. That's hard work.
Stories Are Scaffolding
Myths and stories act like scaffolding. They don't become the house. They hold the frame while we build. When we talk about "The Wound" it can feel abstract. But tell the story of Enkidu the wild man meeting Gilgamesh the king, and suddenly we see it: wildness taming the tyrant, the king softening the wild. The scaffolding is up. Now we can walk around it and see where our own wound lives.
Myths Name What We Can't
Some themes are too big for plain language. Grief. The father wound. The shadow father.
Try saying "I have daddy issues" in circle and watch everyone cringe. Now tell the story of Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader. Instantly we've got language: the father who falls, the son who refuses to repeat the fall, the moment the mask comes off. That story holds the shadow father theme so we don't have to carry it alone. Myth has wound its way through men's circling for thousands of years precisely because it gives us words when ours fail.
Old Stories, New Medicine
The old tales keep showing up because they're maps. Iron John — the wild man who teaches the prince how to become king without losing his soul. Gilgamesh — the king who only becomes human after losing his wild brother. Different routes, same destination: how to be a man without hardening or collapsing. If you're new to the idea of myths and archetypes in men's work, it's worth exploring how deeply these patterns run.
I've been playing with Jack and the Beanstalk lately. Sounds like a kids' story, right? But Jack climbs to the heavens, steals three gifts from a giant, and brings them back for the people. That's basically Tāne Mahuta. Both climb vines to the upper realms. Both have to focus on the task. There is risk. Both return with medicine for their people. Current culture or ancient culture — the theme is identical. When we research and deepen these stories, we get better at spotting the myths we're living right now. The "get-rich-quick startup bro" myth. The "lone wolf alpha" myth. Seeing them lets us choose them, or leave them.
The Benefit for Us
So how do we benefit? Three ways:
Distance: The story holds the heat so we can look at our own grief or father wound without burning our hands.
Permission: If Arthur can pull the sword, if Enkidu can soften a king, then maybe I can change too.
Direction: Myths show us the pattern. Wound → descent → gifts → return. That's not just a story. That's a process we can trust.
We don't tell stories because we love fairytales. We tell them because they work. They hold the theme while we do the work.
Pick a story. Find your part in it. That's where the authorship starts.
Many Blessings.
Further reading
- Shadow work: how men's groups help shine light on the parts of ourselves we don't want to see
- The father wound and the mother wound: two of the deepest roots in men's work
- The missing passage: how men's work is helping reclaim what modern life took away
- The male loneliness epidemic: why men need more than a partner and a pub
- The real benefits of joining a men's group: what changes when men do this work
- Find a men's group near you
