This past week has been emotionally difficult. I've had some highs and lows and today I'm struggling for a compromise in between. I was doing pretty good but this past week was a test for me in many ways. Coming through it and out the other side, I know now more than ever that I never want to go back to that man, to that situation, to that pattern of disaster. I could type about this further but I honestly don't want to give any more energy to it or him or them or anything related to it. This morning, I folded up the print-outs of the profiles and put them in my unfinished paper journal. I don't want to write anything more in it, although there are still many pages left for writing. I haven't abandoned a journal since I was 13 or so... I'm turning 27 in less than a week. I want to start a new journal. I might just rip out the empty pages. I hate the way I was for the last bit of it. I don't ever want to be that way again. I've opened the cellar door and all I can do is look at the carnage - the gristle, blood and bones of the girl I used to be dismembered and discarded, a mess all over the place. The past couple days have been me finally processing this and trying to stand what I now see, so clearly, in front of me (behind me). It isn't pretty. Now begins the sorting of the bones and putting my self back together. I can work with the bones. I will learn to sing over over them and then I'll come alive, much wiser than before. I am no longer the predator's princess of prey. I say this to you from a place of knowing, wake up woman, you're dreaming - you're in a beautiful dream but you'll lose yourself and it will be difficult to find your way back. If you're going that way, after him, take a light with you. You'll need it to see in the dark - that's where he likes to keep you. I know it's lovely for awhile, I know. Nightmares usually start out that way. My best advice to you in two words - lucid, be.
Each woman who retrieves her intuition and Yaga-like powers reaches a point where she is tempted to throw them away, for what is the use of seeing and knowing all these things? This skull-light is not forgiving. In its light, the old are elderly; the beautiful, lush; the silly, foolish; the drunk are drunken; the unfaithful are infidels; things which are incredible are noted as miracles. Skull-light sees what it sees; it is an eternal light, and right out front, shining ahead of a woman, like a presence which goes a little before her and reports back to her what it has found ahead. It is her perpetual reconnaissance.
Yet, when one sees and senses thusly, then one has to work to do something about what one sees. To possess good intuition, goodly power, causes work. It causes work firstly in the watching and comprehending of negative forces and imbalances both inward and outward. Secondly, it causes striving in the gathering up of will in order to do something about what one sees, be it for good, or balance, or to allow something to live or die.
It is true, I will not lie to you; it is easier to throw away the light and go back to sleep. It is true, it is hard to hold the skull-light out before us sometimes. For with it, we clearly see all sides of ourselves and others, both the disfigured and the divine and all conditions in between.
Yet, with this light the miracles of deep beauty in the world and in humans come to consciousness. With this penetrating light one can see past the bad action to the good heart, one can espy the sweet spirit crushed beneath hatred, one can understand much instead of being perplexed only. This light can differentiate layers of personality, intention, and motives in others. It can determine consciousness and unconsciousness in self and others. It is the wand of knowing. It is the mirror in which all things are sensed and seen. It is the deep wild nature.
Yes, there are times when its reports are painful and almost too much to bear; for also the fiery skull points out where there are betrayals brewing, where there is faintness of courage in those who speak otherwise. It points out envy lying like cold grease behind a warm smile; it points out the looks which are mere masks for dislike. As regards oneself, its light is equally bright; it shines on our treasures and on our foibles.
It is these knowings which are the most difficult to face. It is at this point that we always want to throw away this damnable shrewd knowing of ours. It is here that we feel, if we will not ignore it, a strong force from the Self saying, "Do not throw me away. Keep me. You'll see."
Women Who Run With The Wolves
Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype
by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D]