Being a Woman – 2. Wild Woman

Clarissa Pinkola Estés

After the psychological-sociological explanation of femininity, the next piece of the puzzle of what it means to be a woman was brought by Clarissa Pinkola Estés and her book Women Who Run with the Wolves – Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype.

Clarissa P. Estes is an American psychoanalyst, writer, post-traumatic specialist, and speaker. She grew up in a rural environment, near the Great Lakes (Indiana, USA). She was raised in refugee families who could not read or write. As a post-trauma specialist, Estés began working in the 1960s at Edward Hines Jr. Veterans Hospital, where she worked with soldiers of World War I, World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War who were tetraplegics. She also worked in other institutions, caring for severely injured children as well as war veterans and their families suffering from post-traumatic disorder. Her teaching of writing, storytelling, and traditional medicine continued in prisons, both for women and men.

Like William Carlos Williams and other poets who have worked in the medical professions, Estés is an officially certified Jungian senior analyst who has been working clinically for more than 45 years. She received her Ph.D. from Union Institute & University in 1981 in ethno-clinical psychology studying social and psychological patterns in cultural and tribal groups. He often gives speeches at universities. She is the author of many books on the journey of the soul. Since 1992, her works have been translated into 37 languages, the most famous being Women Who Run with the Wolves.

Women who run with the wolves

The deep instinctive nature has become threatened by society because it is not considered important. Rationality and decision-making through the head have become primordial and socially accepted, and women are treated as property, objects, and lower beings.

The archetype of the wild woman represents the instinctive knowledge that every human carries deep within himself. Knowing when to stay and when to leave, when to let live and when to let die. It is the knowledge of the natural cycles of life in balance.

Fairy tales paint the paths of growth and give directions on how to find your true path. We may have lost touch with our deep instinctive guide, but it’s still there and can help us. The wild woman lives everywhere we are, and we can find her everywhere: in beauty, in everyday affairs, in a sincere smile … Many women in a world where rationality thrives yearn for this deep instinct. Losing contact with the inner guide takes away joy and inspiration and forces women to simply “function” in everyday life. This makes them depressed, they feel helpless, embarrassed …

A wild woman can act as an ally, a leader, a model, and a teacher to women. She carries everything a woman needs to know, and she has a cure for everything. Being with an instinctive nature means acting with all your heart and groundedness. Old scars and passionate creation are the door through which a woman can find her way back to her instinctive nature…

The book is a blend of ancient storytelling, psychoanalysis, and cultural anthropology, and a review on Bukla (in slovene) says the following:

“The book Women Who Run With the Wolves sheds new light on interpersonal relationships, self-image, and various forms of addiction. It awakens memories of other places, times, and ways of being, deepens and expands stories and myths. Clarissa Pinkola Estés begins with the story of La Loba, a wolf woman who collects bones and sings a song over them to come to life and clothe themselves in flesh, and then takes her through nineteen fairy tales, vitamins for the soul, as she calls them, in which she weaves ties with the Wild Woman. For it is the Wild Woman in Blubeard who whispers to a young woman how to save herself from a murderous husband, in Blue Vasilisa she is a yaga baba who knows that too much knowledge harms prematurely, in Skeleton she awakens the love of a man, in La Mariposa there is an old Indian woman who knows the power of the body, in the myth of Persephone there is Demeter and Baubo, the goddess of fertility and belly laughter, in The Handless Girl, the Queen Mother. The Ugly Duckling is a fairy tale about finding belonging, The New Moon Bear is about anger as a teacher and about patience, perseverance, and forgiveness, La Llorona about the fluidity of creative flows, The Seal about the mask we wear and the necessity of occasional solitude, The Red Shoes about rebellion, The Matchstick Girl about a starved soul, Goldilocks about dark secrets.

The Interpretation of Fairy Tales and Myths contains a map of all the pitfalls, known and unexpected, that a woman encounters while returning to her instinctive self in the home of the Wild Woman, as well as a call to face what she fears most, with her own power.
Inside every woman lies a natural and wild being, equipped with instincts, intuition, and timeless knowledge. Clarissa Pinkola Estés calls her the Wild Woman and proves that it is possible and necessary to summon and revive her. It paves the way through the many layers of consciousness to the inner voices that whisper in the bone marrow, inviting you into the realm of the spirit that heals, awakens, challenges and connects…”

Woman who walks with a dog

I myself read the book twice and both times I was aware of which fairy tale I was living at that time. The most obvious was Red Shoes at one time. I couldn’t help but see how my partner at the time bought them for me and put them on my feet literally and with his own hands. And so my dance could begin …

The story is about a poor girl without a mother who spends her days searching for food in the forest. She didn’t have shoes, but eventually made a pair herself out of the scraps of leather. One day he meets an old lady in a gilded carriage who asks her to live with her. He gives the girl food and clothes, but she now has to live by the old woman’s rules and no longer has her own freedom. Her handmade shoes are burned by the old woman because they weren’t ‘pretty’ enough, and she is taken to the shoemaker to get a new pair. The girl is upset because she liked the shoes she made with her own strength, but at the shoemaker, she is tempted by a pair of red shoes, suitable for the princesses themselves. The shoes are later enchanted by an old man and the girl cannot stop dancing nor can she take off her shoes anymore. She dances to the point of infirmity, and only when the executioner cuts off her feet with an axe with her shoes on can she stop dancing. Her shoes and her feet dance away, and she spends her life crippled, trying to make a living by serving other people, and never wishing for red shoes again.

By making shoes, the girl marked her rise to a life full of passion, which she designed herself. Her shoes represent a huge and literal step towards incorporating her resourceful feminine nature into everyday life. It doesn’t matter that her life is incomplete. It has its own joy. It will evolve. They represent the dreams, hopes, and desires of the wild woman—the feminine side that society often tries to bring under control or extinguish. We are taught, says Pinkola Estes, that we must protect the wild psyche by valuing it, defending its interests, and being careful not to abandon it to unhealthy conditions of existence. In addition, we are taught that this wild part is always threatened by someone or something because of its energy, beauty, or because it wants to control, murder, transform or control it. This metaphor teaches us how to be careful not to let that happen…

After the red shoes story in my life, I was single and alone for five years – Bart died, Dea was taken away from me – I no longer wanted a man, a dog, a family, a home… I taught immigrants in Slovenia Slovene 46 hours a week, and all weekends slept exhausted, grateful that contact with people was not necessary. This is what ‘severed feet’ would look like in my world. I flew to the Maldives in the summer, but they didn’t turn out to be as dreamy and as perfect as the media portrays them to be. The ocean and life in it are beautiful, but after a week of nights between damp sheets and the (too) strong sun during the day, which burns you even in cloudy weather, I was happy about the ‘gentle’ Slovenian climate and, in contrast to the life-threatening stingray, unpleasant slimy hats.

At the end of the summer, while thinking about how I shouldn’t change my fairy tales so that someone can illustrate them, I met Bluebeard/Soul Twin.

The story of the Bluebeard tells the story of a rich man who marries a woman and then leaves her his keys in his absence. He sets out to explore the palace and also uses the forbidden key, and finds the bodies of his former wives behind the door. The key is stained red because of the blood and she hides it, but Bluebeard finds out about her betrayal and intends to kill her for it. Terrified, she calls her sisters, who manage to kill her husband.

The story teaches that there is a natural predator in the psyche of every woman. This man wants a woman to be just what he wants: completely innocent and naïve. But a woman cannot live a full life if she is not aware of the dangers and does not care to know more. We need to be curious and we need to explore the dark corners of our minds in order to grow.

Every woman has that unnatural force that tries to suppress her natural instinct. The predator cuts women off from their ideas, feelings, and actions; Though he longs for light, he kills her. That is why we need to recognize such forces and protect ourselves from their lethality. But often, when we are young (mentally or physically), we do not see the danger of youthful pleasure, physical attraction, or pleasure. So we are easily captivated by someone’s appearance, charm, and wealth. Such women are easy, naïve prey because they do not trust their instincts. They are told to behave nicely and learn not to see the predator as it is.

Other fairy tales also surprisingly reflect my life, for example, there is still a current story about an Ugly duckling or a small dog – I leave the explanation of the latter to a man who wants to understand women and himself, and I will reveal a few more ways out of these horrors of life.

I had to give up everything, the apartment, the illusion of a safe home and family, including the little dog goddess with whom my partner at the time blackmailed me so that despite our breakup and eviction from his-father’s apartment, I was “dancing” according to his instructions and receiving messages about everything that was wrong with me, even four years after the end of the relationship.

‘Bluebeard’ opened up most of the hidden and festering wounds. A friend who hadn’t seen me in a few months was horrified by my appearance. I lost 5 kilos, I couldn’t eat, think clearly, read, work, or concentrate at all … There was a sore left after having herpes on the lip, I was sick for a whole month … So I looked like someone had beaten me. But I was doing it myself. The ‘Twin Soul/Bluebeard’ ‘only’ silently rejected me and left me alone in hell with all my demons. Ghosting is something ‘natural’ as I see. But for a woman, silence, without a conclusion, without an answer to what you’ve done ‘wrong’ (and if you’re rejected by a twin soul, there must be something seriously ‘wrong with you’) is the worst: Am I too old or too young, too fat or too thin, too beautiful or too ugly, too stupid or too smart, too elegantly dressed or too little… Later, I was almost killed a few times (also literally/physically): I almost stepped in front of the bus with my head in the clouds, on the highway a truck meandered due to a flat tire in the overtaking lane a split second after I overtook it…

But I can’t blame anyone for ‘my problems/challenges’. Years ago, first (again, literally) my blood was rubbed off the sheets by an American, the next year by a Russian. But I was bleeding even before they appeared, they are not to blame for my natural cycle. No one is to blame for anything, we are just reflecting on what is happening to the Earth of which we are a part. My parents, my ex-partners, everyone who ‘betrayed me’…, I can only thank them for an incredible story that I wouldn’t have believed that is possible if I hadn’t lived it. Also to the ‘twin soul’ for opening my heart and leaving me room to deal with the ‘demons’ on my own…

And then Tara came into my life.

Although the pain was so great that I was no longer ready to accept these beautiful creatures into my life after Bart’s death and Dea’s takeaway, one March morning (probably no coincidence that 9 months after interacting with ‘Bluebeard’) I woke up from sleep with the clear thought that a white Swiss shepherd named Tara was going to join me. First, I inspected the shelters, and then I noticed that a litter of these shepherds was expected in Carinthia. I also found out that they were born the night I apparently dreamed of her (I usually don’t remember my dreams) – the mother who shares the name with the caretaker’s daughter is called Emma of the White Dreams. 🙂 Even though Tara’s official name is Bloom of White Mountain Stars, it’s clear that we were meant to be together, we both chose the name ourselves. 🙂 I was the only one of the future caregivers at whom the dog mother did not bark, as well as the white Tara – otherwise the Buddhist goddess of compassion – in the picture that adorns my computer desktop, is holding a flower in her hand.

In her company, I wintered this winter in a vineyard cottage among the vineyards and created, created, created … That I didn’t get carried away too far when I forget everything else – even food, drinks, going to the toilet … Tara took care of the balance. She started whining after a while, but at first I rejected her, saying: Can I have peace for at least half an hour?! before I noticed that three or four hours had already passed. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed my work, every moment of the day, doing only what made me happy, looking forward to the many gifts of nature, such as sunny mornings over the blurry Dolenjska or a white Christmas, a snowy New Year and Valentine’s Day. Every now and then a blow came, because being officially unemployed, doing ‘nothing’, is, of course, unheard of in today’s society. I wrote in the morning, spent 2-3 hours in the afternoon walking in the woods, and in the evening I lit the wood-stove – also with the branches that Tara brought from the forest, and I cut them myself (and felt very strong), 🙂 I listened/watched various podcasts or danced and sang whatever and as loud as I wanted. But for the most part, these were not popular music tunes, but healing music.

I would like to point out Peruquios, which is also called the voice of Mother Earth. Once a successful Australian jazz singer, she left everything behind and first found her true essence in the American wilderness before realizing her vision from 25 years ago. Today, she is the leader of the largest women-oriented workshops, the author of 40+ authentic courses, inspires more than a million women around the world, and is also “a transmitter of an incredible psychosonic voice that has scientifically proven transformative power,” according to her website.

The first song I came across years ago, and with the greatest joy I was loudly ‘cheering’ it all summer in a convertible without a roof on the Coast during the day, 🙂 Wild woman. It was a special experience also to dance to it at night in one of the gardens, in the company of a group of 16-year-old girls, and their male classmate also liked it. Everyone wanted to hear more. Well, that’s the kind of school I imagine … 🙂

I’m also fascinated by Nahko bear and his band Medicine for the People. His life story is very inspiring. Born as a result of rape, growing up with four parents, in different cultures … He had to go a long way to healing before offering his medicine to the world. Love Letters to god is my favorite tune, but when one night I was embraced and completely paralyzed by the darkness that even focusing on Dea lying on the couch next to her didn’t help, this song started to make cracks in it…

And a different femininity than I was used to until recently… Celtic women, who sing mostly Irish folk music, showed me years ago that there was also a soprano (a high female voice) in me, while as a child and teenager (later I quit altogether) I could only sing with a low alto voice (and male songs). Or maybe I just didn’t notice it… or woke up… Singing along with the Peruquios and lately Celine Dion (A New Day Has Come) is getting better and better. At least my only (dog) audience says so. 🙂

Of course, it wasn’t all rosy during those three winter months of retreat. On my rare interactions with the world, I have experienced pity, accusation, warnings, ‘well-intentioned’ advice… A 44-year-old single woman, with no husband, no children, no ‘real’ friends, no job, no home. Obviously, I’ve completely screwed up my life… After 15 years of concrete work on myself, 10 moves (among other things, I renovated three different apartments and then was evicted), building a ‘career’, two serious relationships, and then putting together and re-looking for my other half… I found myself again in the hell of non-acceptance, conditional ‘love’ = control, worthlessness, second-class, shame, invisible, inaudible, poverty… Seemingly as if I had never left, even the music on the local radio remained the same.

But I came back from the Coast well stocked with all the knowledge or wisdom (under the red, naturally henna-dyed, my hair is completely gray), 🙂 which I’ve conquered over the years. Nothing was in vain. I allowed myself sleepless nights and subsequent naps, crying but with acceptance, understanding, nurturing… I was immensely grateful for the Valentine’s Day blizzard, during which I didn’t have to go anywhere else but for a walk in the snowy forest – while the neighbor put chains on the tires and went for work. If I was reluctant to write or create anything because I just didn’t feel well mentally and emotionally, I knew it was time to unpack my mental-emotional baggage once again. I didn’t interrupt the process by running to books, TV, other people, instructions or various pills – with the exception of a few lecadols with C-vitamins and a box of doreta because a festering tooth canal, after which I slept for a whole week, I haven’t tasted pharmaceuticals for about 15 years, and I also use only natural cosmetics, toothpaste… I allowed myself to feel what I wasn’t allowed to or wasn’t able to process in the past.

Men’s help

A few podcasts came to the aid of the mind. Among the multitude of new-age gurus and trainers, I came across a few gems, among which I would highlight the method of Dr. John Demartini:

The Demartini method is a cognitive process that involves balancing the mathematical equation of perceptions and results in greater executive function, objectivity, inspiration, respect, fulfillment, and drive. It is a systematic, predetermined set of questions that, once answered, help the individual neutralize and transform polarized emotional feelings into integrated feelings of presence, certainty, gratitude, and love. It creates a new perspective and paradigm in thinking and feeling. As William James, the father of modern psychology, aptly stated, “The greatest discovery of our generation is that human beings can change their lives by changing their perceptions, attitudes, and minds.” Every emotion is a byproduct of the relationship of perceptions…

In his opinion, with which I agree, nothing stands in the way of self-realization, everything is a matter of view, in everything, even in abuses, there is something that helps you on your way …

Peter Crone – the mind architect -, a former coach of successful athletes, also contributed his knowledge… His videos made me excited: FINALLY, someone understands! and this is not a 55-year-old man from the last century (which I experienced while reading Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse), but an almost 60-year-old man from this century. 🙂 Among other things, he is aware of the importance of words, what kind of prison they can cause, and how important it is to ask the right questions, but for me, the most important thing is his frequent recommendation: Get yourself a dog!

Dogs are the bearers of unconditional love on Earth. What parents or partners couldn’t teach and show because they didn’t know it themselves, these perfect beings can provide. Even growling-‘aggressive’, i.e. misunderstood dogs, as I’ve been learning lately, just love their guardian so much that they are willing to protect him from any danger that takes away their energy-attention. Even if it comes in the form of an innocent child (for man). Either they take the destructive energy of the caretaker on themselves or they ‘aggressively’ = resolutely repel the intruder…

Animal family members

In conclusion of this writing, I want to include my tribe – the animals that helped me get through growing up in the Dolenjska region. Only now do I notice how beautiful and underestimated this Slovenian landscape is. But it’s probably no coincidence that Tara and I can’t go left or right on the road from our cabin without some ‘aggressive’ German shepherd barking at us.

White Swiss Shepherds are actually white German Shepherds. They originated from the recessive (white) gene of German Shepherds, but the Nazis started killing them because they did not meet the ‘right’ standards. The survivors were taken to America by the Americans and continued to breed there.

So it’s probably no coincidence that I returned to Dolenjska with her, or that my first dog, which I received from my father for my 12th birthday, was a cross between a German shepherd and a Sharr dog. Nika (so I started with the goddess of victory), 🙂 a beautiful little creature that had been kidnapped for a few days, but had been brought back by the kidnapper himself, had grown into a little beast, was the fear and trembling of the village, and wanted to bit most of the people outside the family.

Lara, who joined me in high school, represented the same fear and trembling to dogs, cats, and people. She was not afraid of Nika; before the three of us went for a walk together, she first rubbed herself against her paws and then slapped her on the muzzle as a warning. But Nika did not run away from her like all the other village dogs and cats, and when I spent most of my time in Ljubljana at university and my parents sent her to my grandparents’ isolated farm, which my uncle, a hunter, had inherited, so did people.

So I understand people who are scared of Tara and me, but they can only be afraid of her kisses and licking of hands… 🙂 When once during a walk in the vicinity of Lipica (Resslova pot) a little puppy started to growl and bark at my feet, I asked her with a smile: “What? You’re not going to defend me?” She looked at me in surprise, and the answer seemed to be: “You’ll be able to do that by yourself,” and she happily sniffed around the bushes. After a while, I sat down on a bench and lit a a roll of organic tobacco. Then I called Tara, who had been looking immobile in the same direction on the way, to me and grabbed her by the collar. Immediately, the agitated owner of the now tied-up puppy, who had been barking at me earlier, appeared. After three calls to speak in Slovenian or English, because I don’t understand Italian, she demanded in broken English that I tie her up… because she’s big. I can’t stand being controlled by others because of their unresolved fears, and when she didn’t give up, but continued to get upset in Italian, it made me so angry that I let Tara go. I wanted her to byte this invading woman, but she, thank God, was smarter, and just snooped around her pockets…

The first one to make his way inside (before Lara and then Bart), in my room and even the kitchen, in a farm family where animals don’t belong in the house, was the cat named Dick (named after the character from Five Friends). He was much friendlier than the female part… 🙂

Same as Bart, who came a few years after the deaths of Nika and Lara. He, like Tara now, guarded me without aggression, only with love. With one exception, when I provoked him to growl at my mother (and I was probably even more surprised by this than she was), who wanted him to get off my bed.

But animals are in a life where it’s not my parents, friends, or society that makes the decisions, but me, seen and accepted as family members who also have access to my bed. I mean… who doesn’t want unconditional love in bed? Many, including one of my soulmates – although I suspect he didn’t know what he was talking about… The real question is: why. But the dance between masculine and feminine energy belongs in the next blog…