The myths of Mount Shasta reflect a different way of looking at the world—one that doesn’t fit neatly into the rational framework of Western science. Myths aren’t just made-up stories; they’re powerful, meaningful narratives that shape belief systems. Groups like the Rosicrucians, Lemurian Fellowship, I AM, Theosophists, and the Brotherhood of the White Temple have created their own mythologies, offering alternative views on life’s big questions. These groups, often drawn to Mount Shasta, have set themselves apart from mainstream culture by building distinct, unique stories. The more these alternative views clash with dominant narratives, the more they stand out.
Myths stick around because they resonate with specific groups in certain times and places. For instance, the story of Lemuria emerged during the Romantic period, while Atlantis traces back to Plato. Occult groups reimagined these old myths to challenge the rapid changes brought by technology and industrialization. Later, the New Age movement borrowed heavily from these teachings, adapting them to reach a wider audience. Today, myths often show up not in traditional religion but as core parts of alternative belief systems.
So why do these myths—like Atlantis, Lemuria, and Hollow Earth—persist? For one, they often surface during times of crisis, acting as reminders that civilizations rise and fall and that progress isn’t always a straight line. Women, in particular, have played a big role in keeping these myths alive, possibly because they’ve historically been excluded from positions of power in mainstream culture.
The evidence supporting myths like Atlantis and Lemuria tends to sidestep major scientific discoveries. Popular scientific theories, such as the Big Bang, offer simple answers to life’s big mysteries, like where we came from or how civilizations began. Myths and these theories aren’t so different—they both provide ways to make sense of the unknown and help people resolve inner questions. Sometimes, older myths are treated as reliable historical accounts that can be reinterpreted for modern times.
Another big draw is the sense of belonging these myths create. People are drawn to groups that share rituals, secret knowledge, and a strong community identity. Being dismissed by the mainstream can even feel like a badge of honor, as though the group has special insights others just don’t understand. For some, there’s also an appeal in claiming cultural superiority, arguing that all of humanity came from a sunken continent rather than the ancient cultures of the Near East or Africa.
Mount Shasta itself is a natural magnet. Its striking beauty and towering presence draw people in, whether for vacations, spiritual retreats, or simply to connect with nature. As for me, I’ve always been fascinated by the unexplained—the things that go bump in the night. Myths and symbols are fluid, constantly being reimagined by those who experience them, and Mount Shasta is the perfect stage for that kind of storytelling.
Author: mountshastamyths
Lurking around here with more questions than answers