1.7 Wolves and Women

The image above triggers a cautionary bell inside my stomach. A bell only a fortitude grown over millennia could ring.

I've been reading Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D's, 'Women Who Run With the Wolves'. I've only ever read the first few pages, until today.

This book was recommended to me by an acting teacher I had during my first few years in Vancouver. I was pursuing a career in film and television at the time, and this acting teacher kicked my ego so far off planet, for a moment I thought I was alien. It intensified my search for "truth". The "thinking is death" approach to truth. So, through rigorous training in the emotional, behavioural and literary arts, mixed with unvarnished self reflection, I grew to be the sculptor of my emotional garden. I wrested my ego and laid it back to her in the form of natural yogurt. Soft, unadulterated, and slightly sour but in a pure, and innocent way. Only from this place could any sort of craft begin. No sugar, no flavour, just me. I mean, the body is soft, no? I now know that I have been in this pure creative form before. This knowledge allows me the confidence to know that because I have reached this state in times past, I can reach it again. It already exists within me. It's simple: Unsheathe my subconscious. No problem :/

How about we call my acting teacher... Ms. Pink?! Ms. Pink... Perfect.

Ms. Pink offered me my first go at true craft. I did not understand craft when we first met. I had a distant view of it, but damn was it nowhere near where I didn't even know it needed to be. I still sometimes forget that it is my ultimate pursuit. God, there's so much noise out there... Anyway, I think of her fondly. I remember and am rekindled with her feminine ferocity through the words of Clarissa. To be as realized an artist as Ms. Pink would be a great feat. I was running with a wolf in those classes. Working with her felt important. It was professional. It was not therapy, yet, it was warm. Care lived in those studios. Passion creaked with every passing step. It was the den of a woman so wild, only she could teach her ways. Her teachings were simply a manner in which to unlock what already exists within you. Zero-point energy. 'Women Who Run With the Wolves' is doing the same thing to me now.

I just read Clarissa's analysis on the French folktale of 'BlueBeard'. The man who gives his wife the keys to the castle and tells her,

"you can go anywhere you like, into any room, any drawer. Except the door to this one tiny key. If you do, you'll face my wrath, but have fun in every other room! Bye bye I'll be back in a few days love youuuu".

You can guess what door the wife ended up unlocking. In the end, she defeated him! It's strange - at the very same moment she discovered the gruesome truth that laid behind that forbidden door, she discovered her yearning for freedom. Without coming face to face with the nasty reality she inhabited, she wouldn't have been able to reach the eternal all-knowing Mother within. The ferocious strength of the Mother, giver of life and facilitator of death and rebirth, propelled her to create freedom for herself. Her perspective on her unhappy life was facilitated to die by the unveiling of any ugly truth, and was reborn as the drive for something better.

It's just insane how complex being a human is. On one hand, I am just typing away on my laptop, on my new couch in an old apartment with a plain ol' glass of water, and strawberries in the fridge. All the while in my head, I am bending time and space by way of memories, day-dreaming, and contemplation.

Picking up this book has reminded me that I love to read. That I love being a woman who embraces her femininity, and does not shy away from her masculinity. It's also reminded me that I have encountered beautifully wild people in my life.

Ilyf,

Bianca Isabella

More on 'Women Who Run With the Wolves' by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D:

Within every woman there lives a powerful force, filled with good instincts, passionate creativity, and ageless knowing. She is the Wild Woman, who represents the instinctual nature of women. But she is an endangered species. For though the gifts of wildish nature belong to us at birth, society’s attempt to “civilize” us into rigid roles has muffled the deep, life-giving messages of our own souls.

Through the stories and commentaries in this remarkable book, we retrieve, examine, love, and understand the Wild Woman, and hold her against our deep psyches as one who is both magic and medicine.

Dr. Estés has created a new lexicon for describing the female psyche. Fertile and life-giving, it is a psychology of women in the truest sense, a knowing of the soul.

"The work shows the reader how glorious it is to be daring, to be caring, and to be women. Everyone who can read, should read this book" - Maya Angelou

Amazon.ca