The Hero at the Midpoint: Psychology of the Second Half of Life

Midlife crisis in the context of Hero's journey and why it is important

The hero's journey, as conceptualised by Joseph Campbell, is perhaps the most important archetypal narrative for humanity. It is an ancient structure found in the earliest myths, such as the Epic of Gilgamesh, and is deeply embedded in Western culture. The most popular modern franchises, such as Star Wars, Harry Potter, and the Marvel Universe, heavily exploit this structure. According to Carl Jung, the hero's journey is the pattern of personality development in the first half of life.

The hero's journey typically ends where it began, with the hero returning home. The key change occurs not in the external world, but within the hero's personality. They leave their parental home as an adolescent but return as a fully-fledged adult with new knowledge, skills, and abilities, having conquered (or, in psychological terms, integrated) their inner demons.

Most heroic stories end here. Harry Potter defeats the Dark Lord, Luke Skywalker becomes a Jedi, saves his father, and destroys the Emperor. Fairy tale protagonists begin to "live happily ever after." But what happens next? What happens to the hero after their return?

Jung noted that the hero's journey is a relevant task for the first half of life. Psychologically, this means the need to become an adult, adapt to adult life in society, find one's place and calling, start a family, and achieve certain professional successes. In Jordan Peterson's (who is a popular psychologist these days) terminology, the task of the first half of life is to search for adequate dominance hierarchies and occupy a certain position within them (preferably somewhere higher up, of course).

But what happens in the second half of life, or what is commonly referred to as the "midlife crisis"? While we can describe what happens within the hero's journey very well, it is less clear what to do afterwards. Literature on this topic is scarce compared to the abundance of heroic journeys.

One of the most significant works addressing this is Michael Ende's "The Neverending Story," particularly its second part. It is a rarity for fairy tales to have the hero's victorious return as merely the midpoint of the story. Other examples include the second part of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's "Faust" and some myths like the myth of Oedipus, which can be linked to the second half of life, although they also intersect with the hero's journey.

The myth of Oedipus, incidentally, became key to psychoanalysis and had a somewhat adverse influence on subsequent psychology. Many remaining directions, excluding Jungian and existential psychology, revolve around the first half of life. This is not ideal, as Dante rightly began his poem (which, incidentally, is related precisely to the second half of life) with the lines:

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

This brings us to the main theme of this series of posts: we will be discussing the second half of life, or what is commonly called the "midlife crisis."

The second half of life

In recent years, this topic has finally begun to be actively explored in psychology, particularly in the Jungian direction. A whole constellation of authors, such as James Hollis, Thomas Moore, and James Hillman, discuss the midlife crisis from the perspective of analytical psychology. These authors will set the tone for some of the episodes. The aforementioned fairy tales, myths, and stories, although few in number, also require thoughtful analysis and reflection.

It is important to note that while childhood and the first half of life undoubtedly influence personality development, the key question is to what extent should they determine what happens to us now? James Hollis often expresses the idea that the key problem of middle age is learned childhood behaviour patterns that are no longer adaptive and now interfere with life.

While it is foolish to deny that we borrow much from early experiences, often unconsciously, an adult is distinguished from a child by the ability to act despite circumstances and even despite their own past. Yes, it can be difficult, and some need to overcome enormous resistance, but there is always a choice. Recognising this choice is what constitutes "adulthood."

There is no point in endlessly rehashing one's childhood in an attempt to find some event if there is no direct request for it in the present here-and-now. In other words, "don't scratch where it doesn't itch." If your current problem is related to something from the past, it would be good to deal with everything together. But why bring something to the surface or regret something that has already passed?

Sometimes the problems of the past accumulate in such a way that the resulting knot becomes Gordian. And, as we know, there is only one way to solve this problem. Less metaphorically, this can be formulated as follows: sometimes you need to decide what is more important to you - trying to successfully resolve the accumulated problems from the past and put things in order there, or responding to the current challenges of the present in a timely manner? To carry the burden with you, but to live "here and now," or to remove the burden of the past from yourself, but, forgetting about the present, to postpone the solution of these problems to the future?

I'm not saying that the first option is always correct. But the second path may well lead to a vicious circle: by not solving the problems of the present, you create problems for yourself in the future, which you will solve there, while creating problems in an even more distant future.

In general, retrospective analysis is useful if it has perspective. This was my thought regarding the criticism of directions related to the study of the first half of life.

Summary

The hero's journey, while serving as a valuable template for the first half of life, leaves us with unanswered questions about what follows the hero's return. The second half of life, often referred to as the "midlife crisis," remains a less explored area in literature and psychology. However, Jungian psychology has recently begun to delve into this crucial stage of personal development, with authors like James Hollis, Thomas Moore, and James Hillman offering insights from an analytical perspective. They suggest that the key challenge in midlife is to break free from the learned behaviour patterns of childhood that no longer serve us well and to recognise our power to make choices despite our circumstances and past experiences.

Navigating the midlife crisis often involves confronting a complex interplay of past problems and present challenges. While there is no universal solution, neglecting the present in favour of dwelling on the past can lead to a vicious cycle of creating new problems for the future. Ultimately, the value of retrospective analysis lies in its ability to provide perspective, enabling us to chart a course through the uncharted territory of the second half of life. This journey requires courage, self-reflection, and a willingness to let go of old patterns and embrace new possibilities, but the rewards of personal growth and self-discovery make it a worthwhile endeavour.