8:87pm
Women Who Run With The Wolves
Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D
His name is Sean. He was named after Sean Connery. Sean is turning 28 on the 15th of October. He lives about an hour and a half away from me. He is allowing me to be brutally honest about who I am and we understand each other. I am an open flower. I am a raindrop on the leaf, ready to fall. I am careful cautious. I am reckless free. I am trusting. I am trusted. This is a fresh start. A beginning during an ending. This is causing me to experience both sadness and happiness at the same time.
And I have dandruff in the cracks of my cell phone.
So, the word wild here is not used in its modern pejorative sense, meaning out of control, but in its original sense, which means to live a natural life, one in which the criatura, creature, has innate integerity and healthy boundaries. These words, wild and woman, cause women to remember who they are and what they are about. They create a metaphor to describe the force which funds all females. They personify a force that women cannot live without."
Women Who Run With The Wolves
Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D
For the past few weeks I have been remembering most of my dreams. Something in me has awoken and I have been connecting, have become connected - I am a connection. It is more than just a filter of events experienced during the day. It is difficult to explain. Being at work this past week was draining. I soaked people through my skin. Maybe that is another contributing factor to the severity of the contact dermatitis? Twice, at least, I would answer the phone and not remember speaking, not remember the call at all. This used to happen when I would take the gen-clonazepam (not remembering the previous nights' conversations) but I have not used that medication at all recently. I am going through a change. I am finding myself in strange places and dreaming of the girl I used to be - the child who was so much stronger than me. She is telling me secrets. She is showing me truth. She is the one who said, "welcome home" and she is leading me down the winding dirt path - the one that leads to the forest of trees - the place of knowing. I feel as though I am returning to myself. I have run this trail before and I do it in my sleep.
Yes,
I do it in my sleep.