For the majority of my life I had elders, spirit guides, wise people, teachers that I depended on to help maneuver through my life. More so than people my own age, I was always drawn to those older than me to be life advisers. Each of these individuals became heroes. Symbols of perfection. Everything I could only hope to be someday. Then, one day, one of my heroes fell from the sky and became very human to me. What a horrible thing to witness. Not only did they fall, but they got up and walked away...from me. At first it was such a foreign experience, but then one by one more heroes began to fall. I saw false sages. Clumsy instead of clever. As self-consumed as every other human. But how could I possibly learn anything from someone who was no further along than I??
This ignited a severe desperation in me to find a new guide. He fell. Then I found another. She fell. Until it was told to me by one very grounded human, perhaps the reason there is no one left on the pedestal is because I am to be my own hero, my own guide, my own teacher. Perhaps the time has come to find my own answers and to master myself. I come to the table of wisdom with much to share. I have stepped into big shoes and they fit. Now may I have my cape?
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Wonderful post. Our heroes are, by definition, human. We can learn from them and continue to learn from everyone around us our entire life. Sometimes we learn more from the fall than from the ascent. That said, you are absolutely correct that we are ultimately responsible for our own life lessons or at least for what we take away from them. What color cape?
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