The Refusal of the Call: Why We Fear to Follow Our Bliss
In the opening stages of any great adventure, there’s a moment that Joseph Campbell calls the “Refusal of the Call.” Here, the would-be hero is summoned toward something greater than themselves — a quest, a vision, an inner drive toward purpose. And yet, despite the thrilling promise of the unknown, the hero hesitates. They falter, look back over their shoulder, and then take a step backward. Why? Because embracing this call means stepping into the chaotic unknown, leaving behind comfort and certainty. It’s the first real test on the path to transformation, and the refusal itself speaks volumes about our relationship with fear, identity, and desire.
Following one’s bliss — that deep, personal calling — sounds simple in theory. Campbell himself famously encouraged us to “follow our bliss,” but he knew full well that doing so is terrifying. Why? Because bliss is no tame, docile creature. It demands sacrifice and courage. It asks us to venture beyond the prescribed limits of our familiar world and awaken to something unknown, unpredictable, and profoundly transformative. So, let’s take a closer look at why we so often refuse the call to follow our bliss, and what we stand to gain by answering it.
The Double-Edged Sword of Bliss
When we think of “bliss,” we might conjure images of beaches, warm sunlight, or an untroubled mind. But the kind of bliss Campbell speaks of is nothing so superficial. It’s the deep, almost mystical feeling of being alive with purpose, with meaning. To follow your bliss is to align yourself with your innermost being, which is often buried under years of social conditioning, fear, and self-doubt.
This bliss calls us out of comfort and into a kind of sacred discontent, the feeling that there’s more to life than what we’re currently experiencing. But in the context of the Hero’s Journey, bliss isn’t a vacation; it’s a commitment to something profound and challenging.
The double-edged nature of bliss is that it holds the promise of deep fulfillment, but only if we’re willing to risk the false security of our well-known lives. Bliss, paradoxically, often threatens the very things we cling to for a sense of safety. This is why so many turn back at the threshold. We’re more comfortable with the discontent we know than the unknown we don’t.
The Fear of Transformation
In psychological terms, refusing the call is often rooted in a fear of transformation. To answer a call to adventure means to accept that we will not return the same. There’s a reason Campbell’s hero is transformed in their journey: they’re asked to integrate new experiences, perspectives, and challenges. Our ordinary selves won’t do. To become what the call demands, we must shed old versions of ourselves.
Carl Gustav Jung noted that people are often unwilling to confront the aspects of themselves that lie in the unconscious — those shadows, as he called them. Answering the call often means meeting parts of ourselves that we’ve long ignored or suppressed. Following our bliss forces us to deal with these hidden parts, to bring them to light, and to grow from the encounter. And it’s this growth that terrifies us. Because in meeting our full selves, we face truths that may demand difficult change: the abandonment of comforting illusions, toxic relationships, or even cherished identities.
Familiarity as a False Sanctuary
The refusal of the call can be deeply rooted in our attachment to familiarity. Human beings, after all, have an instinctual drive toward predictability. The familiar is safe; we know its contours and boundaries, however limiting or painful. By refusing the call, we cling to our established roles, routines, and environments, convincing ourselves that these are enough.
But the more we cling, the more we feel that gnawing dissatisfaction — the sense that something vital is missing. That’s the itch of the unfulfilled call. This feeling can even harden into bitterness, as we subconsciously recognize the roads not taken, the passions we let fade, the risks we refused to seize. Familiarity is easy, yes, but it can be suffocating. And the tension between what is familiar and what could be becomes a kind of quiet suffering.
The Call as a Mirror
Interestingly, the refusal is itself a kind of call — it’s a call to examine our deepest motivations and fears. In the moment of refusal, we learn about our values, our insecurities, and our beliefs about ourselves. What stories are we telling ourselves that justify our inaction? Do we believe we’re “not good enough,” “not ready,” or that the dream itself is “too risky”?
Often, our refusal mirrors limiting beliefs we’ve accumulated over the years. Maybe you fear being “selfish” for pursuing your creative passion or “irresponsible” for leaving a job to follow a dream. These thoughts aren’t random; they’re markers of the mental and cultural frameworks that define our lives. They show us where we’re entangled in outdated narratives that no longer serve us.
Crossing the Threshold: Embracing the Hero Within
It’s easy to imagine that only a select few answer their call to adventure, that only the strong, the fearless, the exceptional are meant for greatness. But Campbell reminds us that the hero is within us all, waiting to awaken. To refuse the call indefinitely is to deny that hero its chance to emerge. Answering the call isn’t about having all the answers or feeling fearless. It’s about moving forward despite fear.
Embracing this call doesn’t have to be a dramatic act of bravery, like quitting your job to backpack around the world. It might be a simple, quiet commitment to begin writing that book, to take a pottery class, to prioritize meditation, to explore what truly lights you up. By crossing the threshold, you open yourself to becoming more aligned with who you are meant to be.
In myth and in life, we see that the hero’s power lies not in the certainty of success, but in the willingness to risk failure. To heed the call is to choose growth over stagnation, self-knowledge over ignorance, and aliveness over numbness.
In Pursuit of Bliss: An Invitation
The next time you feel the pull toward something unknown and thrilling, notice the reflexive impulse to refuse. Recognize that this resistance isn’t a failure; it’s a marker of the journey itself, part of the dance between who you are and who you’re called to become. It’s natural to feel afraid, to hesitate at the threshold of a new chapter. But remember, too, that bliss is persistent. It will return, calling to you with increasing clarity until you have no choice but to follow, or to bury it and bear the restlessness.
To follow your bliss is to take responsibility for your own transformation. It’s to stand at the edge of your own potential and step forward. Yes, you might lose some things along the way: the comfort of familiarity, the security of certainty, the safety of “good enough.” But what you gain is the chance to live a life that is authentically, vibrantly yours.
Answering the call might be the most terrifying choice you’ll ever make — but it’s also the choice that leads you to yourself.