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You are the Hero: What Men Risk (and Gain) by Choosing Change


That familiar sinking feeling of dread churns in the pit of your stomach as you turn the corner and see your house come into view. You’ve just survived another long day at work, dodging management and breaking your back to meet deadlines or quotas. You’re tired. You’re cranky. And you don’t feel up to walking into another battle zone of exploding diapers, ear-splitting wails of distressed toddlers, and incoming fire from enemy forces (aka, your wife). Dragging your feet, you make your way up to the front door, and before your hand even reaches the handle, it flies open to reveal a grinning 2-year-old who immediately launches themselves into your arms. They smell like baby powder and SpaghettiOs, and as you return their embrace, you can’t help but think: I can do this. I can keep going. 


Welcome to the Refusal of the Call



“Maybe my life isn’t so bad after all", “I can handle it", "this is my responsibility", “I made my bed, now I have to lie in it", whatever the excuse may be to justify your misery, it’s still just that, an excuse. When you run up against a call, your ego will come up with a plethora of reasons as to why you should not change, why the devil you know is so much better than the one you don’t. For many men, choosing change means leaving the familiar behind and venturing into the unknown. 


What if I leave and never find anyone else? What if I lose my kids? What if I fall off a cliff, bump my head, and go bouncing down the ravine? These are all legitimate concerns (except that last one, though, maybe if you’re the adventure type). With change always comes risk. Without it, there is no reward. If you are unwilling to lose your old life, you cannot gain the new one. Every hero knows this, wh

ich is why almost every hero initially goes through a moment, whether big or small, where they refuse the journey. 


In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo attempts to give the ring to Gandalf. Frightened by the knowledge that the agents of Mordor are on their way, he begs the old wizard to take the ring. But Gandalf refuses, because this is Frodo’s journey. No one can walk his path for him. No one can carry his burden. But they can walk beside him, which we’ll cover more later. For now, you stand alone. 


In the last post, we discussed that when the call to adventure is issued, it's delivered in the form of the question “to change or not to change.” And more often than not, the initial answer given is not to change, to remain just as you are, trapped within the matrix of the Ordinary World. Why? Because it’s easier. 


Or is it? 


As we hinted before in our post about the risks of remaining in the Ordinary World, just because you bury your head under the covers doesn’t mean the agents of Mordor will not come bursting through the door. The Ordinary World is deceptively safe. Its endless looping cycles of suffering are comforting in their familiarity, but that doesn’t mean it’s better to remain within them. Neo, from the Matrix, learned this lesson when he refused the call issued by Trinity and instead was confronted at his job by Agents. There is no escaping change, only the illusion of it. 



Under all the excuses, reasons, and justifications for not breaking out of the endless cycle of the known is fear. You, dear hero, are afraid. Why? Because real change is soul-altering, life-shattering, and permanent. After you leave The Ordinary World, there is no going back to the old way of being. You must face it, feel it, and move past it. Avoiding it only delays the inevitable. 


What many don’t expect is that the fear doesn’t always stem from you, the hero. Often it arises in others who then attempt to dissuade you from undertaking the journey. We see an example of this in Captain America: The First Avenger when Steve Rogers’ best friend, Bucky, attempts to convince him to stop trying to join the army. He told Steve to stay home, stay safe, that he wasn’t cut out for heroism. 


How wrong he turned out to be. 


In your journey, this could be a friend, a parent, a partner, or a co-worker. The people closest to you often become a mouthpiece for your fear and uncertainty. Not out of malice, but concern for the dangers you are about to undergo. Change is dangerous. These threshold guardians only serve to emphasize that by asking, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” 


And the answer is, yes.  


Strength is not the endurance of endless suffering; it’s choosing to break free of it with the full knowledge and understanding of the potential loss. By refusing the call, you will only loop back around and inevitably end up right back at the precipice of choice. 


To change or not to change? 


The choice is yours and must be made alone, but once you have committed to the path ahead, you might find you are less alone than you think. 



At the end of the day, men choosing change aren’t just taking a risk — they’re stepping into the role of hero in their own story. What's holding you back from your hero's path?

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