Nothing will see us through the age we're entering but high

In the twilight of the modern world, when the air hums with confusion and the spirit of humankind trembles beneath the weight of its own inventions, Robert Johnson spoke words that burn like prophecy: “Nothing will see us through the age we’re entering but high consciousness, and that comes hard. We don’t have a good, modern myth yet, and we need one.” These words are not of despair, but of awakening. They speak to the deep hunger of our time—a hunger not for wealth or progress, but for meaning. For without a guiding myth, without a story that reveals who we are and why we exist, civilization drifts like a ship unmoored, clever in craft but blind in purpose.

Johnson, a student of Carl Jung, knew that myth is not fantasy but the language of the soul. The ancients wrapped their wisdom in stories of gods and heroes not because they were naïve, but because they understood that the deepest truths cannot be spoken in plain speech. They must be felt in the heart, carried by symbol, sung by memory. When he says we need a new myth, he does not mean another superstition—he means a new vision that binds our science to our spirit, our progress to our compassion. For the old myths, though eternal in form, no longer speak easily to the minds of this electric age. The gods have not died; we have merely forgotten their faces.

Think of Prometheus, the bringer of fire, who defied the heavens to gift light to humankind. Once, his story warned that knowledge without reverence leads to suffering. Today, as we command the powers of atom and algorithm, we are once again Prometheus—our hands full of fire, our hearts unprepared for its weight. This is what Johnson calls the need for high consciousness: the ability to wield our gifts without being consumed by them. For every age that gains power must also gain wisdom, or it will destroy itself in its own brilliance.

The ancients entered their dark ages when their myths decayed—when the stories that once gave meaning turned hollow. Rome fell not only because of swords, but because its spirit withered. The temples stood, but the gods were dead in men’s hearts. So too, Johnson warns, we are entering a new kind of age: a digital empire without a soul, a world of vast information but little understanding. Only high consciousness, born from humility and inner awakening, can see us through. The myth we need is one that unites reason and reverence, science and soul—a myth that teaches us not merely to build, but to become.

Consider Martin Luther King Jr., who, in his own time, gave birth to a modern myth of freedom and justice. His dream was not a political slogan but a vision of human transformation. It called upon ancient symbols—mountaintops, promised lands, the brotherhood of man—and transmuted them into a story that could guide an age of struggle and awakening. His myth was a bridge between heaven and earth, between the divine aspiration and the human act. That is what we need now: stories that do not divide, but lift us into a higher understanding of ourselves and one another.

And yet, as Johnson reminds us, high consciousness comes hard. It cannot be taught like arithmetic or imposed like law. It must be earned through suffering, through reflection, through the alchemy of experience. It is born when one looks honestly at one’s own darkness and transforms it into light. The new myth cannot be written by poets alone—it must be lived by each soul that dares to wake from the dream of comfort. Each of us must become both storyteller and hero, weaving meaning through our days as the ancients once did beneath the stars.

So, O seeker of wisdom, let this teaching be your guide: do not wait for the myth of your age to be given to you. Become its author. Live consciously. Question deeply. Honor both your mind and your mystery. In your love, your work, your silence, create symbols that remind others what it means to be truly human. For when enough souls awaken, the collective story changes, and a new age is born—not of decadence, but of renewal.

Thus, the wisdom endures: nothing will see us through the coming age but the light of awareness, the courage to evolve, and the myth that reminds us we are not machines, but miracles. Seek that myth, live it, and you shall help write the scripture of the future.