The myth you’re living: A journey of creativity and healing

Carl Jung spent the entire second half of his amazing life dedicated to understanding the “myth” he was living by. He called it his “task of tasks.” Myths are the instruments that we use to make sense of our life events. The problem is, it’s hard to see the story when you’re living it. We don’t have the birds’ eye perspective…

Over twenty years ago I was critically injured in a head-on collision. I fractured T-12, displaced my spinal chord by forty degrees, and had paralysis from the waist down. The doctors gave me less then five percent chance of ever walking again. Perhaps because I fully recovered, I don’t talk about the accident much, but it definitely changed the course of my life. The insurance money I received gave me the means, incentive, and motivation to pursue a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago, which I wouldn’t have considered before the accident. More importantly, it gave me the means to deeply explore creativity in life, something I didn’t know would be my life journey.

Before Christmas, I received an unexpected phone call from someone who asked me to speak to a group of successful business leaders. The topic? Creativity. Two days later, I was in indescribable pain. I had fallen, re-injured my back, and for the first time since the accident, I was paralyzed again. The connection with the accident and my life path was not lost on me. At the same time, I fretted about how I was going to present anything to anyone in my condition. After two weeks of intense physical suffering, on the day before the big event, I was nearly pain-free and could move again. The presentation went great.

It seems obvious that we’re all living a story–our own individual, unique, amazing story. My story has something to do with the importance of creativity i

Carl Jung dedicated the latter half of his incredible life to understanding the “myth” he was living by—a task he called his “task of tasks.” Myths are the stories we use to make sense of our life events, to connect the dots in ways that give them meaning. The challenge is, it’s nearly impossible to see the story clearly when you’re in the middle of living it. We often lack the bird’s-eye view to grasp the full arc of the narrative.

Over 20 years ago, my life changed forever. I was critically injured in a head-on collision that left me with a fractured T-12 vertebra, my spinal cord displaced by 40 degrees, and paralysis from the waist down. Doctors gave me less than a five percent chance of walking again. Against all odds, I fully recovered. While I rarely talk about the accident, it shaped the trajectory of my life in profound ways.

The settlement from the accident gave me the means and motivation to pursue a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago—something I’d never have considered before. More than that, it became the foundation for my life’s work: exploring creativity. It’s a path I didn’t realize was waiting for me but one that has become central to who I am.

When Life Speaks in Metaphors

Just before Christmas, I received an unexpected call. Someone asked me to speak to a group of successful business leaders about creativity. Two days later, I experienced a shocking twist of fate—I fell, re-injured my back, and for the first time since the accident, I was paralyzed again. The connection between this setback and the accident that altered my life path was not lost on me.

As I lay in excruciating pain, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would stand—literally or figuratively—in front of an audience to talk about creativity. For two weeks, I endured intense physical suffering. Then, on the eve of the presentation, the pain lifted. I could move again. The next day, I delivered the talk, and it went wonderfully.

Listening to the Story We’re Living

It’s clear to me now: we’re all living a story, our own unique, unfolding myth. My story has everything to do with creativity’s role in life. It’s a story so vital that it nearly stopped me in my tracks in my 20s, forcing me to listen and follow its path. Decades later, it spoke loudly again, reminding me of its power and presence. And yet, like all great myths, it remains a mystery.

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote, “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.” Those words resonate deeply with me. The challenges, the pain, the seemingly insurmountable obstacles—they are part of a larger story, asking us to listen, to respond, to find meaning.

And so, I’m listening.