A Hero's Journey

What images come to mind as you reflect on your childhood? Playgrounds, blackboards, and soccer balls may be among the warmest of memories. Yet for many mermaids swim their thoughts, princesses get swept of their feet, and lions roar to their loyal place in the animal kingdom. There is no doubt that today’s entertainment has most of its touch using classical influences. Walt Disney has produced animated films that have captured the heart and imagination of audiences of all ages around the world through the magic of storytelling and imagery. Many of us appreciate the imagination and magic that Disney puts into its animations with out knowing they are based off of classical and traditional storylines

Good morning brother and sister, I pray all is well with each of you as we continue this series on the children of Israel... we hope if the spirit allows us to end this series this week... When God give you instruction to do something, don’t be greedy, don’t ask tons of questions, and most of all don’t be too lazy and don’t do it...

There are many steps of “The Hero’s Journey”. The first step of The Hero’s Journey is the ‘Ordinary World’. The ‘Ordinary World’ allow us to get to know the Hero and identify with him before the Journey begins. This step refers to the hero 's normal life at the start of the story.

Zeke and I has been together for a year and a half. Zeke and I met August 28, 1993 I was working at the mall at the time, in a man's clothing store; and he come in with his cousin Junior. I ask them if they needed help and Junior say yes, because his the one that was buying some clothes, so instead of me helping him I started talking to Zeke and didn't help Junior at all.

My life has always been a series of transitional phases that was as every-changing as the seasons themselves. The words of my literary heroes were my utmost comfort; they inspired my confidence and my character, and moved me to be a more visceral, understanding person. I believe that during my time I have been wizened, and connected to the roots of all humanity; in my imagination I see it as the growth of a sampling into the dampness of the earth and the jaded formation of rough bark. Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose transcendental views have inspired me, was once quoted as saying, “Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” I believe that is true, and with every choice I’m reminded of that hopeful and assertive message.

A few months later, I found myself riding with Halt back to his quaint little cottage nestled in the woods. He was teaching me about animal tracks. As our horses tread against the snow that lay on the ground, I noticed a massive print next to the cottage, and Halt said it was a giant boar. A man was lying in the bushes and came out to claim that he had seen the boar first hand, and that it was a mad and destructive one. Halt told him to go to the castle and tell the Baron to gather a group of men so that we can all go hunt the boar in the morning. The next day, I found myself on horseback on the outside of a circle of warriors, and Horace. If the boar were to escape through our circle, I was to chase it down and finish it off with my bow.

Mankind had believed themselves to have escaped the horrors that preyed on them in bygone ages. Perhaps they were right. Mostly. The torch of scientific progress kindles by newton and his companions spread like wildfire over the centuries that followed, and drove the beasts that dwelt in our shadows scampering back into the darkened pits that had spawned them; turning the hunter into the hunted. Physics, the idea that our world operates through universal laws, defeated the ancient magics that had once left Kings and nobles alike shivering in the all concealing night. Darwin and his concept of evolution banished the ancient monsters with such speed and ferocity that even hercules himself would have been envious. But there are still places in our world where the light of modern day hasn’t come to contact with . i come to you not with a tale of some hidden cave in the heart of the wilderness, but that endless sprawl that surrounds all of humanity's great achievements. The last great uncharted territory. The ocean

“Small town big heart,” they say locked away behind their cold immaculate castle gates that rest on the remains of the previous farmland and plains. The collective heart beats but only at a convenient time suiting parties involved. “A place where everyone matters,” they utter as their motto in indistinguishable monotone voices. The people are too wrapped up in their everyday lives to ever be concerned about their neighbor, they look through life with gilded glasses. It’s as if a fog had descended slowly creeping into their view distorting what they once held most dear.

“Over here!” Lori called to her friend, Kayla as she was trudging below the blazing hot Arizona sun. After looking up and seeing Lori, Kayla shouted “Coming!” while jogging happily to greet her best friend. Both girls were looking forward to this get together because they were planning on hiking a new trail through the beautiful desert mountains. “I am so excited!” Kayla exclaimed once Lori caught up to Kayla. Carrying small filled bags with a couple granola bars, water, a hat, a couple of bandages and some sunscreen, you could see the anticipation in their eyes for this fun adventure! Although they didn’t do much research on this trail, they were thrilled for the trip ahead.

On August 3rd, 900, my parents found out they were having a child. They prepared for a

Marlee watched as the first visitor approached the door from the upstairs window. He was sitting upstairs cooking shrimp in a pot of oil. He was kind of confused to see a crazed person approach the abandon house at 9 p.m. This visitor looked old and weary. It was an old lady who was carrying a purse, while she was walking up to the house she took out a key like she lived there. Marlee was so scared he thought he was in the wrong house. He quickly called Max and told him to get over to the house right away! The old lady walked inside and started to walk up the stairs. She soon opens the creaky door who reveals frightened Marlee sitting in a boxy chair in the corner. Thats when she started screaming at the top of her lungs, her head was turning red like a cherry, it looked like her head was going to explode. Marlee took off running.

Make up an idea of what a hero should be like, Are you done? Good. Now put that hero that you just made up and send him on a unforgetable journey. Make your hero go through unexpected battles and have him lose at least one important thing in his life. Next make up a story with a happy ending or a bad ending whichever one you desire. I asked these questions because you just made a hero's journey.

Months later she told me what actually went through her mind that day. She told me how her legs began to shake when she discovered who it was. She was an equestrian as well and had seen her share of accidents at horse shows. When she first heard the news, she thought it was someone else; then she learned it was her best friend.

Breathless, Alex ran through the forest. It was twilight, normally his favorite time of day, but this golden hour took on a malicious tone. These woods were full of weeds, slippery moss covered stones , and twisted, thorny vines. Alex’s foot caught on a snarled root, and he tumbled onto the cold dirt. Alex sensed something was amiss, and he knew The Beast was growing ever nearer. As Alex lay sprawled on the forest floor, a single thought ran through his mind. “I’m done.” with the will to live draining from him. Alex lay still in the dirt and leaves resting for his last time. The soreness in his legs was so unbearable he wanted the release of death; craved for it even. “Thump”....... “Thump” The Beast's feet approached slowly and

October 23rd, 2002, a very dreadful day for my family… my day of birth. Maybe it was wonderful, but I’ll never know the truth. My dad will not actually tell me what he was thinking in that moment, and I will never hear my mom talk about that day, or any day, or actually anything ever again. I’ll get to the death of my mom later. As I came home from the hospital I have no memory of that, but my earliest memory is around the age of six. Six years old, and sitting on a bar stool. I’d sit, sip a Sprite, munch on some crackers while my dad got shit faced drunk. I remember the small room. Smells of smoke and alcohol fill my nostrils. I sat on a bar stool so long that my butt print was engraved in it, kind of like the fat guy that I used to talk to. He was up