Personal Narrative: My Hero's Journey

To play a role given to us, isn’t fun once we learn of it, however, breaking away pushes us further into the journey. The Hero's Journey, a repetitive process that seems to be in the basic natural structure of every human, and despite any efforts are often replicating it ourselves. Following the journey is simple and sometimes unavoidable. The whole journey is mapped out by Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey. Then seen in Dracula, Bedazzled, and Noah. Also, in a easier way Howl's Moving Castle and The Game.

Joseph Campbell has a theory called The Hero’s Journey in where an individual is shown in a mundane world, called to an adventure, and goes on the adventure. In the adventure, the individual goes on the path of trials that consisting of making new friends, new mentors, new enemies, facing new challenges, gaining new skills, and new knowledge. When the individual comes back to their mundane world, they are the master of two worlds through their new experiences they've gained in the adventure. The Hero’s Journey has been repeated in literature and films through many years: two examples that have The Hero’s Journey are the films, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

Change is inevitable. Whether it be positive or negative, change is constantly happening. More than often change can take you from the known world and spit you into the unknown, where you return a changed person. While embarking on the journeys provoked by change, you are on a hero’s journeys. The hero’s journey was popularized by Joseph Campbell. When describing what prompts hero’s journeys, Joseph Campbell said,

Zachari's grandmother showed the QP the court documents the probation officer left that reports he has 20 hours of community services, have no contact with the co-defendants, curfew set by the parent, and contact with his probation officer.

Joseph Campbell is a leading mythology expert and philosopher who studied all myths from around the world and found the “Hero’s Journey,” a pattern or algorithm that appears in common in myth, religious ritual, and storytelling. The Hero’s Journey has three elements, separation, initiation and return. If I think about myself, coming to Hawaii by myself was a separation from my comfortable zone where I was surrounded by my supportive family. First time when I came here, I could not say anything and became quiet because I thought people would think I was a stupid and not understand me. I was afraid of how people think about my language skills. However, I tried to speak from myself, asked people to collect my mistakes, accepted what I cannot do

I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and slung my purse over my shoulder before responding to him.

Remember when you and I started down life’s road having no idea what life would bring but there we were so young and free ready to build castles just to fulfill our dreams you would be my knight upon a white steed I’d greet you day and night from the castle balcony now that castle has faded some and the knight has hair peppered with white the steed is longing to retire but our dreams we still dare to dream for love is still ours so many things still left unsaid so many things still ahead the dreams we shared some are with us still we’ve learned that the best things in life are always free and it is the simple things that bring great joy to us and that you and I will always be in love like the first time when we

I was nine years old when it happened. I loved Shrek so much, I owned all the movies and the merchandise, I even prayed to Shrek every night, I still do. This night was no different "Shrek is love. Shrek is life." I finish my prayer, thanking Shrek for the life I've been given. My dad overhears me "Faggot." he mumbles under his breath. "Cunt." I reply, I say no more because I know he is just jealous of the devotion and relationship I have with the green lord an savior, Shrek. I can see him grow angrier before he slaps me across the face "Go to your room you disgusting faggot!" he yells. I hold back the tears and I go back to my room, once I'm in the safety in my room I let the rears flow. My face stings from where he hit me. I climb into my cold and lonesome bed, and the suddenly, I feel a warmth move towards me, it runs a large finger down my back.

I never realized how boring and long a car ride could seem when you’re anxious and excited for what’s to come. I never knew what waited down the path I chose, and how easily something can be lost. These events led me to the way I am today and whom I want to be in th future.

As Greg was walking he saw three skeletons all lined up by the entrance. "Are those real skeletons? Or just there to try to scare us?" Greg whispered.

It has been two years since you passed. It has been a year since I unearthed your vacant coffin with Oskar. Yet, it has been less than a second since you came to my mind. A day has yet to pass where I do not ponder of you, imagine you. I have seen pictures and heard stories of you, yet it always pains me that I could not have a place within them. I know nothing of you, my own child. In fact, I cannot call you, Thomas Schell, mine. There is nothing of me in you, and that will always be my deepest regret. If I had two lives, I would spend them both with you, as if that would somewhat compensate for the unjust life I forced upon you. A life without a father. Though, a boy need-not be raised by man, when a woman as sturdy as your mother is in place. I

I am an independent individual with my own thoughts and my own actions. Unfortunately, however, I am also a younger sister, and I would unhesitantly and mindlessly follow my older sister anywhere, whether what she was leading me to was into an established university or into an abandoned warehouse. If my older sister asked me to jump, then I would ask her how high. If my older sister told me we were going to spend our Sunday afternoon watching Aziz Ansari on Netflix, then I would bring the popcorn. We sat there, that luminous Sunday afternoon, watching the hilarious Indian comedian remind the electrified audience about the courageous travails and journeys of immigrants coming into America. My sister and I laughed as Ansari bantered about the

Sea gulls bickered on the warm, morning breeze over head. The waves lulled the vessel boat to-and-fro as it skimmed through Blackwater Bay. The water sparkled like sapphires, clear and bright under the sun. From the bow of the boat, Alayna peered out towards the Narrow Sea. Beyond the bay, adventure called her like a siren song. She longed to explore the lands beyond Westeros. However, this voyage wouldn’t ferry her towards that dream. She’d continue to dream of that journey. The schooner wouldn’t be sailing beyond the bay.

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!” The school bell rings. Peter and I were playing football at recess when we heard the bell. We quickly rushed up the stairs to get to class. I was so happy to see back Peter in school after his sick leave. He looked happy and his attitude shone brighter than the sun. Even after what had happened to him about a month ago…

I've been sitting under this tree for a while as I await the rains to pass. The sun hides behind the endless blanket of storm clouds; a precipice ahead builds with water, and will flood if the rains continues.