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When We Accept Our Own Wild Beauty, It Is Put Into Perspective, And We Are No Longer Poignantly Aware Of It Anymore, But Neither Would We Forsake It Or Disclaim It Either. Does A Wolf Know How Beautiful She Is When She Leaps? Does A Feline Know What Beautiful Shapes She Makes When She Sits? Is A Bird Awed By The Sound It Hears When It Snaps Open Its Wings? Learning From Them, We Just Act In Our Own True Way And Do Not Draw Back From Or Hide Our Natural Beauty. Like The Creatures, We Just Are, And It Is Right.

-Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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When We Accept Our

Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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When We Accept Our Own Wild Beauty, It Is Put Into Perspective, And We Are No Longer Poignantly Aware Of It Anymore, But Neither Would We Forsake It Or Disclaim It Either. Does A Wolf Know How Beautiful She Is When She Leaps? Does A Feline Know What Beautiful Shapes She Makes When She Sits? Is A Bird Awed By The Sound It Hears When It Snaps Open Its Wings? Learning From Them, We Just Act In Our Own True Way And Do Not Draw Back From Or Hide Our Natural Beauty. Like The Creatures, We Just Are, And It Is Right.

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To Create One Must Be Able To Respond. Creativity Is The Ability To Respond To All That Goes On Around Us, To Choose From The Hundreds Of Possibilities Of Though, Feeling, Action, And Reaction And To Put These Together In A Unique Response, Expression Or Message That Carries Moment, Passion And Meaning. In This Sense, Loss Of Our Creative Milieu Means Finding Ourselves Limited To Only One Choice, Divested Of, Suppressing, Or Cendoring Feelings And Thoughts, Not Acting, Not Saying, Doing, Or Being.

To Be Ourselves Causes Us To Be Exiled By Many Others, And Yet To Comply With What Others Want Causes Us To Be Exiled From Ourselves.

Like All Other Lonely Or Hungry Things, Ego Loves The Light. It Sees Light, And The Possibility Of Being Close To The Soul, And It Creeps Up To It And Steals One Of Its Essential Camouflages. In A Hunger For Soul, Our Own Ego-self Steals The Pelt

A Woman Who Is Starved For Her Real Soul-life May Look 'cleaned Up And Combed' On The Outside, But On The Inside She Is Filled With Dozens Of Pleading Hands And Empty Mouths.

Freud's Translator Accidentally Omitted 'fashion' In The Psychoanalytic List Of Primary Instinctual Drives; Along With The Drive To Sexuality There Is The Drive To Wear Odd Garments That May Cut Off Circulation, Occlude Vision, Make Toes Grow Sideways, Cause Riots.

In This Tradition A Story Is 'holy,' And It Is Used As Medicine," She Told Radiance Magazine. "the Story Is Not Told To Lift You Up, To Make You Feel Better, Or To Entertain You, Although All Those Things Can Be True. The Story Is Meant To Take The Spirit Into A Descent To Find Something That Is Lost Or Missing And To Bring It Back To Consciousness Again.

I Have To Go To The Woods, And I Have To Meet The Wolf, Or Else My Life Will Never Begin.

The Most Important Thing Is To Hold On, Hold Out, For Your Creative Life, For Your Solitude, For Your Time To Be And Do, For Your Very Life.

All Strong Souls First Go To Hell Before They Do The Healing Of The World They Came Here For. If We Are Lucky, We Return To Help Those Still Trapped Below.

In Any Dark Time, There Is A Tendency To Veer Toward Fainting Over How Much Is Wrong Or Unmended In The World. Do Not Focus On That. Do Not Make Yourself Ill With Overwhelm. There Is A Tendency To Fall Into Being Weakened By Perseverating On What Is Outside Your Reach, By What Cannot Yet Be. Do Not Focus There. That Is Spending The Wind Without Raising The Sails.

Positive Thinking

With The Wild Nature As Ally And Teacher We See Not Through Two Eyes But Through The Many Eyes Of Intuition. With Intuition We Are Like The Starry Night, We Gaze At The World Through A Thousand Eyes. The Wild Woman Is Fluent In The Language Of Dreams, Images, Passion, And Poetry.

A Prayer Refuse To Fall Down If You Cannot Refuse To Fall Down, Refuse To Stay Down. If You Cannot Refuse To Stay Down, Lift Your Heart Toward Heaven, And Like A Hungry Beggar, Ask That It Be Filled. You May Be Pushed Down. You May Be Kept From Rising. But No One Can Keep You From Lifting Your Heart Toward Heaven Only You. It Is In The Middle Of Misery That So Much Becomes Clear. The One Who Says Nothing Good Came Of This, Is Not Yet Listening.

To Love Means To Embrace And At The Same Time To Withstand Many Endings, And Many Many Beginnings- All In The Same Relationship.

Suppose... The Body Is A God In Its Own Right, A Teacher, A Mentor, A Certified Guide? Then What? .... Are We Strong Enough To Refute The Party Line And Listen Deep, Listen True To The Body As A Powerful And Holy Being?

Dogs Are The Magicians Of The Universe.

Wolves Never Look More Funny Than When They Have Lost The Scent And Scrabble To Find It Again: They Hop In The Air; They Run In Circles, They Plow Up The Ground With Their Noses . . . .

When A Great Ship Is In Harbor And Moored, It Is Safe, There Can Be No Doubt. But That Is Not What Great Ships Are Built For.

The Body Remembers, The Bones Remember, The Joints Remember, Even The Little Finger Remembers. Memory Is Lodged In Pictures And Feelings In The Cells Themselves. Like A Sponge Filled With Water, Anywhere The Flesh Is Pressed, Wrung, Even Touched Lightly, A Memory May Flow Out In A Stream.

Asking The Proper Questions Is The Central Action Of Transformation. Questions Are The Key That Causes The Secret Doors Of The Psyche To Swing Open.

Nurture Is Like Psychic Wheaties.

Tell The Truth About Your Wound, And Then You Will Get A Truthful Picture Of The Remedy To Apply To It. Don't Pack Whatever Is Easiest Or Most Available Into The Emptiness. Hold Out For The Right Medicine. You Will Recognize It Because It Makes Your Life Stronger Rather Than Weaker.

What Is That Which Can Never Die It Is That Faithful Force That Is Born Into Us That One That Is Greater Than Us That Calls New Seed To The Open And Battered And Barren Places So That We Can Be Resown. It Is This Force In Its Insistence In Its Loyalty To Us In Its Love Of Us In Its Most Often Mysterious Ways That Is Far Greater Far More Majestic And Far More Ancient Than Any Heretofore Ever Known.

Wolves And Women Are Relational By Nature, Inquiring, Possessed Of Great Endurance And Strength. They Are Deeply Intuitive, Intensely Concerned With Their Young, Their Mate And Their Pack. Yet Both Have Been Hounded, Harassed And Falsely Imputed To Be Devouring And Devious, Overly Aggressive, Of Less Value Than Those Who Are Their Detractors.

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The Desire To Force Love To Live Only In Its Most Positive Form Is What Causes Love Ultimately To Fall Over Dead.

Stories Are Medicine. They Have Such Power; They Do Not Require That We Do, Be, Act Anything - We Need Only Listen.

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Ritual Is One Of The Ways In Which Humans Put Their Lives In Perspective, Whether It Be Purim, Advent, Or Drawing Down The Moon. Ritual Calls Together The Shades And Specters In People's Lives, Sorts Them Out, Puts Them To Rest.

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Any Time I Find Medicine That's Helpful, I Share It With Everyone I Know.

A Lover Cannot Be Chosen A La Smorgasbord. A Lover Has To Be Chosen From Soul-craving. To Choose Just Because Something Mouthwatering Stands Before Ou Will Never Satisfy The Hunger Of The Soul-self. And That Is What The Intuition Is For; It Is The Direct Messenger Of The Soul.

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Latina Women Are Proud To Be Called Mrs. That Simply Means That We Have A Family.

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It's Not By Accident That The Pristine Wilderness Of Our Planet Disappears As The Understanding Of Our Own Inner Wild Nature Fades.

If You Have Never Been Called A Defiant, Incorrigible, Impossible Woman… Have Faith. There Is Yet Time.

Since Time Out Of Mind, A Considered Act Of Heroism Has Been The Cure For Stultifying Ambivalence.

When You Focus With Soul Eyes, / You Will See Home In Many, Many Places.

Though Fairy Tales End After Ten Pages, Our Lives Do Not. We Are Multi-volume Sets. In Our Lives, Even Though One Episode Amounts To A Crash And Burn, There Is Always Another Episode Awaiting Us And Then Another. There Are Always More Opportunities To Get It Right, To Fashion Our Lives In The Ways We Deserve To Have Them. Don't Waste Your Time Hating A Failure. Failure Is A Greater Teacher Than Success.

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I Am Built Close To The Ground And Of Extravagant Body.

Stories Are Medicine.

When A Creature Is Exposed To Violence, It Will Tend To Adapt To That Disturbance, So That When The Violence Ceases Or The Creature Is Allowed Its Freedom, The Healthy Instinct To Flee Is Hugely Diminished, And The Creature Stays Put Instead.

...stories That Rise From Deep Suffering Can Provide The Most Potent Remedies For Past, Present, And Even Future Ills.

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Sometimes The One Who Is Running From The Life/death/life Nature Insists On Thinking Of Love As A Boon Only. Yet Love In Its Fullest Form Is A Series Of Deaths And Rebirths. We Let Go Of One Phase, One Aspect Of Love, And Enter Another. Passion Dies And Is Brought Back. Pain Is Chased Away And Surfaces Another Time. To Love Means To Embrace And At The Same Time To Withstand Many Endings, And Many Many Beginnings- All In The Same Relationship.

The Predation Of Wolves And Women By Those Who Misunderstand Them Is Strikingly Similar.

If Logic Was Anything, All Men Would Ride Sidesaddles.

Creativity Is Not A Solitary Movement. That Is Its Power. Whatever Is Touched By It, Whoever Hears It, Sees It, Senses It, Knows It, It's Fed. That Is Why Beholding Someone Else's Creative Word, Images, Idea, Fills Us Up, And Inspires Us To Our Own Creative Work. A Single Creative Act Has The Potential To Feed A Continent. One Creative Act Can Cause A Torrent To Break Through Stone.

Though Her Soul Requires Seeing, The Culture Around Her Requires Sightlessness. Though Her Soul Wishes To Speak Its Truth, She Is Pressured To Be Silent.

The Deepest Work Is Usually The Darkest. A Brave Woman, A Wisening Woman, Will Developing The Poorest Psychic Land, For If She Builds Only On The Best Land Of Her Psyche, She Will Have For A View The Least Of What She Is. So Do Not Be Afraid Of The Worst. It Only Guarantees Increase Of Soul Power Through Fresh Insights And Opportunities For Re-visioning One's Life And Self Anew.

I Come From A Long Line Of Tellers: Mesemondok, Old Hungarian Women Who Tell While Sitting On Wooden Chairs With Their Plastic Pocketbooks On Their Laps, Their Knees Apart, Their Skirts Touching The Ground... And Cuentistas, Old Latina Women Who Stand, Robust Of Breast, Hips Wide, And Cry Out The Story Ranchera Style. Both Clans Storytell In The Plain Voice Of Women Who Have Lived Blood And Babies, Bread And Bones. For Them, Story Is A Medicine Which Strengthens And Arights The Individual And The Community.

Story Is A Medicine Which Strengthens And Arights The Individual And The Community.

The Deterioration Of Symbols Is Natural. They Wear Out, Needing To Be Reclaimed, Recreated; Returned To The Spirit.

If You Have Yet To Be Called An Incorrigable, Defiant Woman, Don't Worry, There Is Still Time

For Myself, Solitude Is Rather Like A Folded-up Forest That I Carry With Me Everywhere And Unfurl Around Myself When I Have Need.

Art Is Not Meant To Be Created In Stolen Moments Only.

To Love Pleasure Takes Little. To Love Truly Takes A Hero Who Can Manage His Own Fear.

Asking The Proper Question Is The Central Action Of Transformation- In Fairy Tales, In Analysis, And In Individuation. The Key Question Causes Germination Of Consciousness. The Properly Shaped Question Always Emanates From An Essential Curiosity About What Stands Behind. Questions Are The Keys That Cause The Secret Doors Of The Psyche To Swing Open.

The Way To Maintain One's Connection To The Wild Is To Ask Yourself What It Is That You Want. This Is The Sorting Of The Seed From The Dirt. One Of The Most Important Discriminations We Can Make In This Matter Is The Difference Between Things That Beckon To Us And Things That Call From Our Souls.

Writing, Real Writing, Should Leave A Small Sweet Bruise Somewhere On The Writer . . . And On The Reader.

Asking The Proper Question Is The Central Act Of Transformation!

If You've Lost Focus, Just Sit Down And Be Still. Take The Idea And Rock It To And Fro. Keep Some Of It And Throw Some Away, And It Will Renew Itself. You Need Do No More.

Do Not Lose Heart. We Were Made For These Times.....for Years We Have Been Learning, Practicing, Been In Training For...and Just Waiting To Meet On This Exact Plain Of Engagement.

Long Ago The Word Alone Was Treated As Two Words, All One. To Be All One Meant To Be Wholly One, To Be In Oneness, Either Essentially Or Temporarily. That Is Precisely The Goal Of Solitude, To Be All One.

Anything You Do From The Soulful Self Will Help Lighten The Burdens Of The World. Anything. You Have No Idea What The Smallest Word, The Tiniest Generosity, Can Cause To Be Set In Motion...mend The Part Of The World That Is Within Your Reach.

If You Have Ever Been Called Defiant, Incorrigible, Forward, Cunning, Insurgent, Unruly, Rebellious, You're On The Right Track.

Mindful Choosing Of Friends And Lovers, Not To Mention Teachers, Is Critical To Remaining Conscious, Remaining Intuitive, Remaining In Charge Of The Fiery Light That Sees And Knows.

We Practice Conscious Forgetting By Refusing To Summon Up The Fiery Material, We Refuse To Recollect. To Forget Is An Active, Not A Passive, Endeavor. It Means To Not Haul Up Certain Materials, Or Turn Them Over And Over, To Not Work Oneself Up By Repetitive Thought, Picture, Or Emotion.

The Wild Woman Is Fluent In The Language Of Dreams, Images, Passion, And Poetry.

We All Begin The Process Before We Are Ready, Before We Are Strong Enough, Before We Know Enough; We Begin A Dialogue With Thoughts And Feelings That Both Tickle And Thunder Within Us. We Respond Before We Know How To Speak The Language, Before We Know All The Answers, And Before We Know Exactly To Whom We Are Speaking.

The Body Is Like The Earth ... As Vulnerable To Overbuilding, Being Carved Into Parcels, Cut Off, Overmined, And Shorn Of Its Power As Any Landscape.

When Women Are Relegated To Moods, Mannerisms, And Contours That Conform To A Single Ideal Of Beauty And Behavior, They Are Captured In Both Body And Soul, And Are No Longer Free.

I Hope You Will Go Out And Let Stories Happen To You.

How Does One Know If She Has Forgiven? You Tend To Feel Sorrow Over The Circumstance Instead Of Rage, You Tend To Feel Sorry For The Person Rather Than Angry With Him. You Tend To Have Nothing Left To Say About It All.

Be Wild; That Is How To Clear The River.

In Mythos And Fairy Tales, Deities And Other Great Spirits Test The Hearts Of Humans By Showing Up In Various Forms That Disguise Their Divinity. They Show Up In Robes, Rags, Silver Sashes, Or With Muddy Feet. They Show Up With Skin Dark As Old Wood, Or In Scales Made Of Rose Petal, As A Frail Child, As A Lime-yellow Old Woman, As A Man Who Cannot Speak, Or As An Animal Who Can. The Great Powers Are Testing To See If Humans Have Yet Learned To Recognize The Greatness Of Soul In All Its Varying Forms.

A Runner Is Real When She Takes The First Step.

This Kind Of Forgetting Does Not Erase Memory, It Lays The Emotion Surrounding The Memory To Rest.

Anytime We Feed Soul, It Guarantees Increase.

Be Proud Of Your Scars. They Have Everything To Do With Your Strength, And What You've Endured. They're A Treasure Map To The Deep Self.

God Forgives Us. ... Who Am I Not To Forgive?

When Seeking Guidance, Don't Ever Listen To The Tiny-hearted. Be Kind To Them, Heap Them With Blessing, Cajole Them, But Do Not Follow Their Advice.

Like Night Dreams, Stores Often Use Symbolic Language, Therefore Bypassing The Ego And Persona, And Traveling Straight To The Spirit And Soul Who Listen For The Ancient And Universal Instructions Imbedded There. Because Of This Process, Stories Can Teach, Correct Errors, Lighten The Heart And The Darkness, Provide Psychic Shelter, Assist Transformation And Heal Wounds.

It Is Not Given To Us To Know Which Acts Or By Whom, Will Cause The Critical Mass To Tip Toward An Enduring Good. What's Needed For Dramatic Change Is An Accumulation Of Acts, Adding, Adding To, Adding More, Continuing. We Know That It Does Not Take 'everyone On Earth' To Bring Justice And Peace, But Only A Small, Determined Group Who Will Not Give Up During The First, Second, Or Hundredth Gale.

Solitude Is Not An Absence Of Energy Or Action, As Some Believe, But Is Rather A Boon Of Wild Provisions Transmitted To Us From The Soul. In Ancient Times, Purposeful Solitude Was Both Palliative And Preventative. It Was Used To Heal Fatigue And To Prevent Weariness. It Was Also Used As An Oracle, As A Way Of Listening To The Inner Self To Solicit Advice And Guidance Otherwise Impossible To Hear In The Din Of Daily Life.

I Hope You Will Go Out And Let Stories Happen To You, And That You Will Work Them, Water Them With Your Blood And Tears And You Laughter Till They Bloom, Till You Yourself Burst Into Bloom.

All The "not Readies," All The "i Need Time," Are Understandable, But Only For A Short While. The Truth Is That There Is Never A "completely Ready," There Is Never A Really "right Time." As With Any Descent To The Unconscious, There Comes A Time When One Simply Hopes For The Best, Pinches One's Nose, And Jumps Into The Abyss. If This Were Not So, We Would Not Have Needed To Create The Words Heroine, Hero, Or Courage.

One Of The Most Calming And Powerful Actions You Can Do To Intervene In A Stormy World Is To Stand Up And Show Your Soul. Struggling Souls Catch Light From Other Souls Who Are Fully Lit And Willing To Show It.

Mend The Part Of The World That Is Within Your Reach.

When You Feel Bad, Find A Person To Talk To And Cry With, To Tell Of Your Anger And Other Helpless Feelings.

My Brain Has No Heart, And My Heart Has No Brain. That's Why When I Speak My Mind, I Appear Heartless And When I Do What's In My Heart I Seem Thoughtless.

Do Not Cringe And Make Yourself Small If You Are Called The Black Sheep, The Maverick, The Lone Wolf. Those With Slow Seeing Say That A Noncomformist Is A Blight On Society. But It Has Been Proven Over The Centuries, That Being Different Means Standing At The Edge, That One Is Practically Guaranteed To Make An Original Contribution, A Useful And Stunning Contribution To Her Culture.

When A Woman Is Exhorted To Be Compliant, Cooperative, And Quiet, To Not Make Upset Or Go Against The Old Guard, She Is Pressed Into Living A Most Unnatural Life- A Life That Is Self-blinding.. . Without Innovation. The World-wide Issue For Women Is That Under Such Conditions They Are Not Only Silenced, They Are Put To Sleep. Their Concerns, Their Viewpoints, Their Own Truths Are Vaporized.

Modern Storytellers Are The Descendants Of An Immense And Ancient Community Of Holy People, Troubadours, Bards, Griots, Cantadoras, Cantors, Traveling Poets, Bums, Hags And Crazy People.

When A Woman Is Frozen Of Feeling, When She Can No Longer Feel Herself, When Her Blood, Her Passion, No Longer Reach The Extremities Of Her Psyche, When She Is Desperate; Then A Fantasy Life Is Far More Pleasurable Than Anything Else She Can Set Her Sights Upon. Her Little Match Lights, Because They Have No Wood To Burn, Instead Burn Up The Psyche As Though It Were A Big Dry Log. The Psyche Begins To Play Tricks On Itself; It Lives Now In The Fantasy Fire Of All Yearning Fulfilled. This Kind Of Fantasizing Is Like A Lie: If You Tell It Often Enough, You Begin To Believe It.

Ours Is Not The Task Of Fixing The Entire World All At Once, But Of Stretching Out To Mend The Part Of The World That Is Within Our Reach... One Of The Most Calming And Powerful Actions You Can Do To Intervene In A Stormy World Is To Stand Up And Show Your Soul. Soul On Deck Shines Like Gold In Dark Times. The Light Of The Soul Throws Sparks, Can Send Up Flares, Builds Signal Fires, Causes Proper Matters To Catch Fire.

When We Accept Our Own Wild Beauty, It Is Put Into Perspective, And We Are No Longer Poignantly Aware Of It Anymore, But Neither Would We Forsake It Or Disclaim It Either. Does A Wolf Know How Beautiful She Is When She Leaps? Does A Feline Know What Beautiful Shapes She Makes When She Sits? Is A Bird Awed By The Sound It Hears When It Snaps Open Its Wings? Learning From Them, We Just Act In Our Own True Way And Do Not Draw Back From Or Hide Our Natural Beauty. Like The Creatures, We Just Are, And It Is Right.

To Adjoin The Instinctual Nature Does Not Mean To Come Undone, Change Everything From Left To Right, From Black To White, To Move The East To West, To Act Crazy Or Out Of Control. It Does Not Mean To Lose One's Primary Socializations, Or To Become Less Human. It Means Quite The Opposite. The Wild Nature Has A Vast Integrity To It

There Is A Time In Our Lives, Usually In Mid-life, When A Woman Has To Make A Decision - Possibly The Most Important Psychic Decision Of Her Future Life - And That Is, Whether To Be Bitter Or Not. Women Often Come To This In Their Late Thirties Or Early Forties. They Are At The Point Where They Are Full Up To Their Ears With Everything And They've "had It" And "the Last Straw Has Broken The Camel's Back" And They're "pissed Off And Pooped Out." Their Dreams Of Their Twenties May Be Lying In A Crumple. There May Be Broken Hearts, Broken Marriages, Broken Promises.

Go Out In The Woods, Go Out. If You Don't Go Out In The Woods Nothing Will Ever Happen And Your Life Will Never Begin.

Some Say That Sudden Knowledge Of Mystical Matters Is Accomplished Only In Complete Quietude, Or That Creator, In One Of God's Many Forms, Appears Only In Orderly Ways That Are Beauteous And Picturesque, Or That The Mystical Appears Only In Completely Silent Ways. All Are True. Except For The 'only' Part.

Three Things Differentiate Living From The Soul Verses Living From The Ego Only: The Ability To Sense And Learn New Ways, The Tenacity To Ride A Rough Road, And The Patience To Learn Deep Love Over Time.

Without Art We Live Under The Illusion That There Is Only Time, And Not Eternity.

When A Women Speaks Her Truth, Fires Up Her Intention And Feeling, Stays Tight With The Instinctive Nature, She Is Singing, She Is Living In The Wild Breath-stream Of The Soul.

Our Own Sorrows Seem Heavy Enough, Even When Lifted By Certain Long-term Joys. But Watching Others Hurt Is The Breaker Of Most Any Heart.

As Long As A Woman Is Forced Into Believing She Is Powerless And/or Is Trained To Not Consciously Register What She Knows To Be True, The Feminine Impulses And Gifts Of Her Psyche Continue To Be Killed Off.

At Bottom Is The Best Soil To Sow And Grow Something New Again. In That Sense, Hitting Bottom, While Extremely Painful, Is Also The Sowing Ground.

It Makes Utter Sense To Stay Healthy And Strong, To Be As Nourishing To The Body As Possible. Yet I Would Have To Agree, There Is In Many Women A 'hungry' One Inside. But Rather Than Hungry To Be A Certain Size, Shape, Or Height, Rather Than Hungry To Fit The Stereotype; Women Are Hungry For Basic Regard From The Culture Surrounding Them. The 'hungry' One Inside Is Longing To Be Treated Respectfully, To Be Accepted And In The Very Least, To Be Met Without Stereotyping.

Bone By Bone, Hair By Hair, Wild Woman Comes Back. Through Night Dreams, Through Events Half Understood And Half Remembered.

I Learned About The Sacred Art Of Self Decoration With The Monarch Butterflies Perched Atop My Head, Lightning Bugs As My Night Jewelry, And Emerald-green Frogs As Bracelets.

We Wish To Make Rage Into A Fire That Cooks Things Rather Than A Fire Of Conflagration.

Tears Are A River That Takes You Somewhere…tears Lift Your Boat Off The Rocks, Off Dry Ground, Carrying It Downriver To Someplace Better.

To Create One Must Be Willing To Be Stone Stupid, To Sit Upon A Throne On Top Of A Jackass And Spill Rubies From One’s Mouth. Then The River Will Flow, Then We Can Stand In The Stream Of It Raining Down.

All That You Are Seeking Is Also Seeking You. If You Lie Still, Sit Still, It Will Find You. It Has Been Waiting For You A Long Time.

The Quintessential Feminine Self Stands At The Center Of The Psyche And It Is Wild, Meaning Natural And Free, And Utterly Wise. It Is Not 'something' We Must Strive To Create. This Self Is Already Fully Present, Burning Strong And Waiting For Us To Come Into Its Presence.

Rather Than Chairs And Tables, I Preferred The Ground, Trees, And Caves, For In Those Places I Felt I Could Lean Against The Cheek Of God.

Just Because A Woman Is Silent Does Not Mean She Agrees.

There Will Always Be Times When You Feel Discouraged. I Too, Have Felt Despair Many Times In My Life, But I Do Not Keep A Chair For It; I Will Not Entertain It. It Is Not Allowed To Eat From My Plate.

Ours Is Not The Task Of Fixing The Entire World All At Once, But Of Stretching Out To Mend The Part Of The World That Is Within Our Reach. Any Small, Calm Thing That One Soul Can Do To Help Another Soul, To Assist Some Portion Of This Poor Suffering World, Will Help Immensely. It Is Not Given To Us To Know Which Acts Or By Whom, Will Cause The Critical Mass To Tip Toward An Enduring Good.

We All Wish To Be Brave And Strong In The Face Of Disaster. We All Wish To Be Looked Up To For Our Endurance And Efforts To Help Others.

The Doors To The World Of The Wild Self Are Few But Precious. If You Have A Deep Scar, That Is A Door, If You Have An Old, Old Story, That Is A Door. If You Love The Sky And The Water So Much You Almost Cannot Bear It, That Is A Door. If You Yearn For A Deeper Life, A Full Life, A Sane Life, That Is A Door.

The Craft Of Questions, The Craft Of Stories, The Craft Of The Hands - All These Are The Making Of Something, And That Something Is Soul. Anytime We Feed Soul, It Guarantees Increase.

A Healthy Woman Is Much Like A Wolf: Robust, Chock-full, Strong Life Force, Life-giving, Territorially Aware, Inventive, Loyal, Roving.

I Call Her Wild Woman, For Those Very Words, Wild And Woman, Create Llamar O Tocar A La Puerta, The Fairy-tale Knock At The Door Of The Deep Feminine Psyche. Llamar O Tocar A La Puerta Means Literally To Play Upon The Instrument Of The Name In Order To Open A Door. It Means Using Words That Summon Up The Opening Of A Passageway. No Matter By Which Culture A Woman Is Influenced, She Understands The Words Wild And Woman, Intuitively.

Friends Who Love You And Have Warmth For Your Creative Life Are The Very Best Suns In The World.

The Point Of Art Is Not Simply To Express Ourselves, But To Create An External, Concrete Form In Which The Soul Of Our Lives Can Be Evoked And Contained.

When Women Hear Those Words, An Old, Old Memory Is Stirred And Brought Back To Life. The Memory Is Of Our Absolute, Undeniable, And Irrevocable Kinship With The Wild Feminine, A Relationship Which May Have Become Ghostly From Neglect, Buried By Over-domestication, Outlawed By The Surrounding Culture, Or No Longer Understood Anymore. We May Have Forgotten Her Names, We May Not Answer When She Calls Ours, But In Our Bones We Know Her, We Yearn Toward Her, We Know She Belongs To Us And We To Her.

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Charles Baudelaire

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