I read a great article in Scientific American this weekend about how scientific studies show we can improve our lives by casting ourselves as the heroes in our own stories. I wrote about this when hardly anyone was reading my stuff, so it felt like a validation to see a version of this technique actually proven to help. Let me explain.
The hero's journey, a narrative structure found in myths and modern stories alike, isn't just for fictional characters. Recent research suggests that applying this framework to our own lives can significantly enhance our sense of meaning and well-being.
This study, published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, found that people who view their lives through the lens of the hero's journey report higher levels of life satisfaction and lower depression. Researchers simplified the traditional hero's journey into seven key elements: a protagonist, a shift in circumstances, a quest, allies, a challenge, personal transformation, and a resulting legacy.
Building upon these findings, the team developed a "restorying" intervention, encouraging participants to reframe their life experiences using the hero's journey template. This process involved identifying the seven elements in one's life and weaving them into a coherent narrative. The results were impressive: participants reported increased feelings of meaningfulness, greater well-being, and improved resilience when facing personal challenges.
In terms of how this might apply to our experiences of health and serious medical problems, I think the structure of the heroic journey might give us strength and resilience, too. When I personally pick up a new diagnosis or medical problem, my first reaction has often been disappointment and dread. And that’s fine as a reaction, but not as an enduring response.
Here’s how the heroic journey might play out in our medical lives. We receive a challenging and disappointing diagnosis (we are the protagonist). After taking some justified time to feel sorry for ourselves, we might resolve to accept the problem and get up from the floor where we’ve been knocked down (a shift). We develop plans that involve educating ourselves, lining up some doctors and professionals, and resolving to accept the challenge, win lose or draw (a quest). If we are fortunate we get support from our family and friends (allies), overcome self-doubt and despair after initial failures or disappointments (a challenge), and grow into an indomitable if not invincible warrior in the face of health adversity (a transformation). Ultimately we all lose the final battle, but there is much inspiration to give to others, much personal growth to find in ourselves, and perhaps meaningful community to be joined with others who similarly suffer and struggle (legacies).
Scientific American used this illustration to show the parallels between heroic archetype and modern warrior:
The third post I ever wrote here on Examined, all the way back in September 2021 (it only received 2 likes, because I had an audience of like 50 people then!) was about a similar subject as the heroic journey - the family narrative. I argued that family narratives can be powerful tools for grounding our children in a sense of self and broader connection - but can also be constructively applied to our medical realms. Here’s a quote:
Children with the most self-confidence often possess an inter-generational sense of self. They build this identity in part by listening to the stories of those who came before them, the hardships overcome, the struggles and pains endured. When they are confronted with life’s inevitable plot twists, they can summon other family member’s stories, wielding them to write their own narratives of endurance and even resilience in the face of sorrow.
In the realm of health, can we resolve to create and share stories that build an adaptive foundation for understanding and coping with adversity? Can we achieve a better sense of well being if we see our darker medical issues illuminated by the perseverance of those who came before us? We cannot control much of what happens to us, and good health is as much determined by chance as it is by our own behaviors. But in my practice, and in my own life, I have seen family ailments that are as much dysfunctional patterns of symptom interpretation and legacies of reactive dread learned from the time we were children as they are genetically determined.
It’s a decent post if you want some vintage Examined reading.
Heroic journeys, family narratives, personal health arcs - the encouraging news is that anyone can apply these structures to their own lives. By recognizing ourselves as protagonists, embracing new experiences, setting challenging goals, nurturing supportive relationships, and reflecting on personal growth, we can conjure and believe in more compelling and empowering stories about the stuff we are really made of. Everyday heroism. Illnesses be damned.
While we may not save the galaxy on a grand scale like Obi Wan Kenobi, viewing our lives as a hero's journey can help us find deeper meaning and overcome adversity more effectively and constructively.
In essence, we have always been the heroes of our own life stories. I truly believe that each person filtering through my examining room is a kind of warrior poet, risen from the seeming impossibility of being anything to sustain a little light in this chaotic and wildly indifferent cosmos.
May the heroic arc be with you.
I don’t know about that term hero—seems a bit lofty to me—but the concept of taking control of what is in one’s control does certainly make sense. Recently, doing the Olympic Sport of housework, I did something to my knee. Here were the steps I went through that (might) correspond to the cycle you describe.
1 (protagonist): Ignore it until it can’t be ignored;
2 (shift): contact my wonderful PCP, who takes a look and refers me to an orthopedic surgeon, who diagnoses and determines I won’t ever need surgery, as I have the knees of a 50 year old (I am 75);
3 (quest): stumble home thinking, but why am I hobbling like a 95 year old, then do research, read the visit notes when they arrive in the patient portal, and confirm I need PT😵💫;
4 (allies) chase down the surgeon to get a referral, which while promised doesn’t happen, go to my PCP (yay, PCPs), who delivers one in a hot minute;
5 (challenge): start PT, things go a little south, go back to researching, realize the PT person could benefit from seeing the X-rays, chase down the surgeon to get the X-rays, which aren’t in the patient portal;
6 (transformation) PT person sees X-rays, reads carefully and changes her approach to manipulating the knee, and now we are making decent progress;
7 (legacy): surgeons need to get out of their silos and think about after care even if surgery isn’t required😎; hospital admin systems need vast improvement for proper coordination of care and follow-up🔥🤬🔥; and I am not doing anymore Olympic Level housework🧹.
So, I would not call myself a hero—nor would my mate who had to hear my disquisitions on more than one occasion about what is broken about our health care “system.” But I guess this long-winded excursion fits within the frame, and it was fun for me to try to fit my facts to it!
Ryan, this morning I owe you a huge “Thank you” for your very timely post. Chance, serendipity, a “fluke”…..(Brian Klaas, Substack)? Whatever prompted you to this particular post, for me, it was just what I needed to hear. Right now! At 86 and “traveling”, I am very fortunate to live in comfort, to have good friends. But there are still the awful and awesome challenges of the varying disablements of the aging body. Last week I was called to do jury duty. I planned carefully. I rose early to drive to the courthouse and find parking. At 7:30 am I was coffee’d up, and in my car, ready to roll, and then realized that there was no way at all that I could move forward. I emailed the Court, and later received dispensation, forever. I have been removed from the rolls. I am in part relieved, and in part saddened by another indication of lack of agency and have been waking to this thought every day. I have not yet read your vintage piece, and of course I shall. But your words “hero’s journey” reminded me of washing dishes with my father, as he recited Shakespeare or Victorian poetry, one of his favorites being Longfellow’s Excelsior. So I think my mantra from now on will be: “Excelsior”! Thank you again!