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Week 18 of 52 Changing into My Wild Instinctual Self

November 5, 2012 //
2

REFLECTIONS

It is worse to stay where one does not belong at all than to wander about lost for a while, looking for the psychic and soulful kinship one requires.

― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

Raging Storms outside my Window

 The raging storm has passed. Weeks of grey water and sky now replaced by a melange of pinks, purples and blues. It’s 7am and the sun has risen. I too am experiencing the end of a stormy period, and feel the dawning of a colourful hue.

The flicker from the flame that is my soul… that is my heart’s desire…it is known to me now. This precious drop of life force resides in the core of my being. It has a potency that propels me out of bed, not because I should be up, but because I want to live. Just as the storm’s wind and water have dislodged the driftwood and the rocks to create a new beach in front of my cottage, I too will never be as I was. The path to oneself contains many periods of disruption and destruction, but I would willingly withstand any number of internal storms, to experience this passion and desire, this palpable wave of libido…life energy.

I am beginning to live the life I once saw only in my imagination. Even as a child, forced to comply with the expectations and rules of my parents, I had a sense that one day, my life would feel different…one day I would feel free of constraint. This ‘knowing’ has been my guiding light, my divining rod. I believe we all possess this tiny oft unheard voice that ‘knows’. The cages of childhood and marriage enslaved my spirit, cowed my joie de vivre. Be polite Be productive Be kind Be virginal Be available Be the best Be giving…  These commands do not serve the heart, the soul, the psyche. Never was it said to me, “And what is your desire?” but I have the power to say this to myself!

My Souls’s Desire is Chasing Rainbows

This week with men! 

Heeding the advice from my wise friend S, I asked 2 men from POF for their numbers, rather than reveal mine. She also suggested I use *67 so that my number remained hidden. Unfortunately, I impulsively phoned Peter, leaving my digits exposed. The virtual conversations with this highly educated man, were snappy and fun and very respectful of my thoughts and feelings. So too, was our hour long phone conversation, other than his creepy revelation that he had googled my phone number, so now knew where I lived… 21st century dating…protect your identity…lesson learned. Later that Saturday, a message came from Peter, asking to meet. I responded by saying that I wrote on Sundays and Mondays, so maybe Tuesday. His response;

Peter: We are complex personalities….unlike you,l do not make rules…it might be a deal breaker…

Me: I agree!

Peter: ohh????

This was followed by an immediate phone call from him, wondering what I meant. I simply responded from my intuitive and knowing self. I said writing was not a rule but a a desire for me, and that I would not be contained by a man.

 He then turned nasty and belligerent, barking like an enraged dog, ‘You are out of touch with reality and will never find a man. You’re a manipulative game player etc etc” Then he hung up! I was nonplussed by his reaction. Sir Gawain this man was not. Sovereignty over my life…not on offer with a man such as Peter. In my process over the last years I have discovered my own thoughts, feelings, morals, opinions and ideals, thus ensuring I will no longer allow anyone to compress my vivid energy! (I have let friends know where Peter lives, in case he continues his tirade)

In wonderful contrast, through sheer serendipity, I spent several hours that same day, in the company of 2 more balanced men.

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 18 OF 52

CHANGING INTO MY WILD INSTINCTUAL SELF

In the fall of 2008, lost in thought while eating breakfast, a tap on the patio window drew my gaze. Shockingly, I saw the most staggering sight…a magnificent cougar was calmly sitting on her haunches, tapping on the glass, 15 feet(4.5m) from me. For several seconds, we started into each other’s eyes. I broke the magical moment with a frenzied adrenaline rush of ridiculous counter invasion antics. I flew from my chair, ran onto the deck like a crazed banshee, and attempted to shoo her away, brandishing BBQ tools that I pounded on a plastic pail…

Undaunted my my wild gesturing and high pitched shrieks, the graceful cougar, tilted her head my way, as if to say, “I’m not here to harm you but to remind you of your animal side… to tell you to allay your fears, and wrench open the bars of this domestic prison…run into the wild…rekindle your spirit and reclaim your instinctual self.”

Even as the literal person I once was, I knew the cougar visit meant more than a mere animal sighting. Even the scientifically minded Park Warden who visited me to garner cougar details said I should feel blessed, cougars being extremely elusive. Having recently survived 2 brushes with death(sepsis 2006 and life threatening anemia 2008)I began the process of seeking a less contained life. I needed to release my firefly from the jar, before the light of my spirit diminished permanently.

Captured Fireflies

The rigidity of my body, crippled by arthritis, indicated I had lost the flow of the sensual, the creative, the naturally instinctual aspects of woman. I needed to find my voice and use it, operating less from my head, and more from that place of deep ‘knowing’, within my core. Part by part, I have had to reclaim myself, disentangle myself from the static amalgam that was my marriage.

My maternal Grandmother, below, looks like a woman who had urges and desires, that begged to be expressed. Her enigmatic smile, like the Mona Lisa’s, has a depth, an inner knowingness. 

Look into her eyes and see the pulse of life!

And this a woman, who maintained her inner spirit, despite being contained by an ambitious husband, who believed in sowing his seed. A set of twins, my Mother and Uncle, followed after this photo was taken. A few short years later, my Grandmother died in childbirth, exhausted from this life.

Material Success Sublimates my Grandmother”s Lust for Life

I too have yearned to live the life of a free and expressive woman. For my Grandmother, and my Grandmother’s daughters, I will uncage my wild woman. 

So for week 18 of 52, I make a solemn promise to myself and to the women of my family who have been starched flat…I will yowl at the moon.

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Categories Self Determining, the other woman, transformation, Wild Instinctual Woman

Week 17 of 52 Changing from The Loathly Lady

October 29, 2012 //
0

REFLECTIONS

A month of productivity and joy and then yesterday, Saturday, was a day on the couch watching yet another British Mystery Series. At 7:30pm I drank 2 glasses of Malbec, ‘fell asleep’ and missed the 7.7 earthquake off the west coast of Vancouver Island. Sunday morning is now upon me, and I pause to ask ‘Why?’ and not to the reason for earthquakes, but the reason for my melancholic state. I know I will not evolve into The Other Woman, if I say to myself, “One day of laying around, eating poorly, having a couple drinks, is nothing, you deserve a break, some down time.” I am aware that I have a super charged work ethic when it comes to ‘Personal Growth’ and relaxation and fun are therefore, valuable experiences for me. But what I did yesterday was not fun or relaxing. The feeling I had throughout the day was one of disquiet and self loathing. This is the feeling I have whenever I try to burrow my consciousness into the bowels of the earth. The season of blooming is finished and I am descending into the dark. What lies beneath the surface? What faulty belief have I internalized, that begs to be revealed and subsequently released, allowing me to live closer to my heart?

I was then startled from this reverie by the ‘ping’ of my iPhone, alerting me to a new message…and here is the miracle of the Universe’s guiding hand! Below is the poem delivered via GoodReads….

The day misspent,

the love misplaced,

has inside it

the seed of redemption,

Nothing is exempt

from resurrection.

             -Kay Ryan

Kay Ryan, the American Poet Laurteate, reminds me that there is nothing more exquisite than the feeling of having the burden of oneself borne off by a poem…not the self, just the burden…just for a moment. She writes in her PJs too!

Creating in PJs

What am I to redeem from that misspent day? that misplaced love?

First I will reflect on my week’s virtual chats with men. A mere 7 days ago, I had not spoken to any man other than my husband and male friends, for 20 years. Thanks to Plenty of Fish, that has changed. Boldly, honestly and clearly, I have spoken from my heart. Amazingly, only one man out of the 11, has stopped writing to me. I have promised nothing, use only my pen name Between2Marys, and decline requests for my name, email address, phone number or coffee dates. I am creating a new me vis a vis men. I have liked the positive, ‘low-key’ attention from men. So why then did I collapse into a tiny ball of angst? Heavy sigh, deep breath….preparing to be honest…my life long lament…I’m not attractive enough for a man to love me for who I am, so I must transmogrify, from the Loathly Lady, into the lovely princess. Only then will I be loved. What this means for me, is, that I must subjugate my desires and attend to ‘his’, as a compensation for my physical lack. Sadly, I have believed this behaviour necessary, even when I was young.

Naturally this perception of the price I must pay for love was born out of my relationship with my father. I loved yet felt intimidated by him. He was unpredictable. I believed I had the power to lessen the parental tension in our home, by being desirable in my father’s eye. I believed that my father’s behaviour towards my mother and my brothers might improve, if he felt pride over his creation of me. I tried to be any and everything I thought he might value. My father was a man’s man, a good looking ‘bad boy’. My mother married him against the advice of her more refined family. He was not a philandering husband, except for his Irish lass, during the Second World War. But, he made no effort to stifle his ‘appreciation’ of a women’s exterior. His entire life, he whistled  with reverential glee at women who epitomized the 1940’s ideal; a thin hipped, well endowed, blond haired bombshell…as I remember him saying…again and again…oblivious to me standing before him with dark hair, average cleavage and above average hips.

Bad Boy Stan, My Dad

I could never have achieved his idea of physical perfection. My physical appearance, demoralized me from age 12, when he counselled me with the following bit of unsolicited, soul crushing, fatherly ‘advice’. “My dear, no man likes a woman with hips as big as 2 battleships.” Being a Navy Officer, he liked to use nautical terms, to drive a point home!

Me around 12 with my Brother

I never again looked at my strong, muscled thighs with any feeling but betrayal or derision. So began my efforts to compensate for my looks. I became attentive to the whims and desires of men, at the expense of my own.

This painful, yet liberating insight, is what I have redeemed from my misspent day, my misplaced love.

 I went into a funk, because I faced a dilemma. Can I continue to speak of my desires as boldly and freely as I have written them?  Or will I continue to compensate for my hips, by cloaking my desires in niceties and placations? Or more likely, will I avoid the issue entirely by burying myself in another British Mystery Series?

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 17 OF 52

CHANGING FROM THE LOATHLY LADY 

 In the Fairy Tale, ‘Sir Gawain and The Lady Ragnell, the loathsome Lady Ragnell, bargained with King Arthur. She agreed to tell him the answer to the riddle, “What do women desire above all else?” in order to lift the spell over his life. In exchange, she desired to be married to his nephew, Sir Gawain. He was known as the most handsome, skilled and compassionate knight at the Round Table. Sir Gawain willingly chose to marry the Hag Ragnell, so that his King’s life would be spared. The spell cast over Ragnell, had turned her into a loathsome Hag for half of each day, but left her as a lovely princess for the other half. When Ragnell asked her husband, Sir Gawain, if he would rather she be beautiful by day or by night, when she is alone with him in bed, he wisely gave her the right to choose, having learned that above all else, women desire the right to have sovereignty over their choices. Sir Gawain understood the greatest dilemma of any woman’s life. In giving the Hag Ragnell the right to decide when she would be beautiful, the spell was lifted, and she was beautiful all day long.

So now, in Week 17 of 52, I must have the courage of Lady Ragnell. She was transformed, not by the kiss of a handsome Prince, but by the pursuit of her own needs and desires. Ragnell symbolizes the journey all women must make to achieve a self-determined and therefore, fulfilling life. To this end, I will talk(on the phone) with a man, as myself, hips and all, maintaining the confidence I feel in a virtual conversation.

I want to acknowledge the wisdom of the Analyst, Polly Young-Eisendrath. For a more comprehensive elucidation of this topic, read, ‘Women and Desire, Beyond Wanting to be Wanted.

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Categories childhood, infidelity, Jungian Analysis, love, Self Determining, the other woman, transformation

Week 16 of 52 Changing From Being the Object of a Man’s Desire

October 22, 2012 //
0

“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.”

― Coco Chanel

REFLECTIONS:

Thank God for this Blogmoir. It became readily apparent to me over the course of this week that I would never have taken a step away from the comfort of Mother Mary towards Mary Magdalene, if I had not committed to it in Week 15’s post. In rereading Week 15, I nearly fell asleep… it was so wordy…full of intellectualizing gobbledygook. Obviously I’m more comfortable talking about becoming The Other Woman than being her.

Here is a quick synopsis of my progression towards my first virtual chat with a new man!

On Wednesday, the day I arrived back home in BC,  I chose a dating Website. The light and humorous site, Plenty of Fish had an appealing ring. I didn’t want a site that cost money or sounded too serious. On Thursday I began to fill out the questionnaire…where do I live,what is my age, ethnicity and hair colour…irrefutable facts… but then I stopped. I shut down my computer when I was required to create a minimum 100 word profile describing myself and my desires. Before I could do this I had to have a little cry and admit that this meant I was moving away from the dream of spending the rest of my life with ‘He Who Will Remain Nameless’. I felt defeated, as though I had received a failing grade in my ability to elicit love from the man I love.

Eventually though, I had an epiphany…I recalled a 15th Century Arthurian Ballad read to me by my analyst in 2005, called Sir Gawain and the Lady Ragnell. To save his life, King Arthur must be able to articulate “The one thing all women most desire.” A wonderful story unfolds, ending with King Arthur and Sir Gawain realizing that women want, above all else, sovereignty over their own life …the freedom to be self-determining. Taking this 500 year old advice, I too can be self determining. I now have the opportunity to arrange my life with my likes and dislikes at the forefront. For example, I can clearly voice my desire to be loved, and then find a man who willingly wants to fulfill this desire. It will no longer be enough for me to fulfill his desires, if mine are deemed less important, and remain unfulfilled.

15th Century Text from Bodleian Library-Oxford

Sir Gawain and The Lady Ragnell-The Loathly Lady

This version of the tale is not the best but it gives you a quick synopsis.  http://www.silver-branch.org/ssbcreations/GawainLL.html

In the past I attempted to compile an itemized list of men’s needs and desires, based on societal norms of desirability(tall, emaciated with a vapid expression)coupled with the characteristics gleaned from a close scrutiny of the man I was attempting to entice. I surreptitiously noted female traits that ‘he’ reacted to, and attempted to transmogrify into this bizarre creation. In a patriarchal society, women’s desires are often cloaked in niceties or seductions. My requests of men were prefaced by the placating “Would it be okay with you if I…” or ” When you get a minute, it would be so nice if you…”

Emaciated and Vacant-the Price of being Society’s Muse

Although unaware of this, I must have felt my needs and desires were onerous, unpleasant and/or unimportant vis a vis the man’s. As asking for what I wanted seemed forward and therefore unladylike, I hoped men would intuit what I needed, just as I intuited their needs. Feeling perilously unfulfilled by men throughout my life, leads me to believe that the men I knew either lacked intuitiveness or believed the fulfillment of my needs was not their responsibility!

Once this revelation was upon me,  I put on my new lipstick, drank a cup of tea from my pretty cup, and began to write about myself and my desires…boldly and from my heart. I did not deemphasize or devalue my intelligence nor my interests. I actually said that although I find people intriguing, I enjoy spending time with those who are self aware!. My closing statement of desire says…I would love to spend time with a man who has enough time and resources to share in some of my passions and introduce me to some of his!

REACTIONS FROM  the first 3 MEN using Goldilocks’s Scale

#1 TOO HOT  “Would you like to meet for lunch tomorrow (Sunday) in Qualicum? Afterwards, there is a piano concert there (Debussy, sp.?), but I don’t know how many tickets remain. It’s at The Old School House at 2:30 p.m. We could have lunch before the concert.”

#2 TOO COLD “BORING”

#3 JUST RIGHT  “Welcome to the Island!!! I live in the Comox Valley just north of you. Quaint little spot…Bowser. I know it fairly well and have friends living there. Also, welcome to POF…not as easy as it looks…Should you see anything in my profile that resonates with you I’d love to hear from you and if not…wishing you much success on your fishing expedition!!!”

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 16 OF 52

CHANGING FROM BEING THE OBJECT OF A MAN’S DESIRE

I felt both empowered and vulnerable in clearly describing some of my strengths and desires. The virtual world is a perfect place to begin the practice of being myself. Face to face I might be tempted to put his needs first, the second I noticed his interest wan. Or I might be tempted to shift my opinion, ever so slightly, if I felt what I’d said hadn’t resonated with him.

In these efforts to please myself, I must be strong enough to be rejected(90 men looked at my profile 10 responded)…to be told I am ‘BORING’ and still be confident enough to CONTINUE being me.To not be tempted to read any man’s interests and tweak mine a tad in hopes of attracting him!

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HOW I HAVE LIVED MY LIFE WITH MEN

So for Week 16 of 52, I will state my desires in a straightforward and direct manner, so that I will be known for who I truly am. I will stop being the object of any man’s desires and instead find a mutually agreed upon meeting ground for our minds and hearts.

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Categories Jungian Analysis, love, Mary Magdalene, Self Determining, the other woman, transformation

Week 15 of 52 Changing from Mother Mary to Mary Magdalene

October 15, 2012 //
3

REFLECTIONS

This morning my plan had been to write as soon as I woke up. But first, like most writers, I cleaned a fairly clean room and then I sorted some drawers and files…then I procrastinated some more by reading quotes about procrastination.

“As a writer, I need an enormous amount of time alone. Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials. It’s a matter of doing everything you can to avoid writing, until it is about four in the morning and you reach the point where you have to write.” ― Paul Rudnick

After reading this, I gave into the mood 100% and descended into time waster’s hell…British Mystery Series. In my attempt to download Blue Murder from a ‘legal’ site, my computer froze on a pornography pop-up. This has never happened in the countless times I have used ____.com to watch British Mysteries(a fabulous life sucking, soul shrivelling site that will not be named).

Incredulous Me

In the 45 minutes it took me to wrestle my computer out of the hands of this Porn Industry computer hacker, I had a transformative experience with the naked young girl posing on my screen. Here she was, the other woman, entering my life, uninvited yet again!  My first reaction was anger and judgement after a furtive glance at her body. I mentally chastised her for luring men away from decent women. And I think I am enlightened and compassionate. I took a deep cleansing breath, and worked my way off my self righteous pedestal. I looked at her again, searching her eyes, to see her for the person she is…to stop my objectification of her. I then experienced a transformative shift. I felt a surge of compassion well up in my heart for this sad-eyed, young girl who believed that this job was her only option. That her only talent was her willingness to let others use her for their gratification.

Once again, fate intervened and my post was jettisoned in a surprising direction. The most uncomfortable of subjects…sex… Argh. Too personal, too confusing… I think I’ll get me to a Nunnery…But before I go, I will try to unravel some of the complexity around women and sexuality…the whore/madonna complex.

If I intend to be embody The Other Woman, I must attempt to end my androgynous persona. I am comfortable now, having men only as friends. I cannot imagine flirting, kissing and God forbid, anyone but me and my doctor, seeing me naked.

When I was single, immersed in the dance of finding boyfriends and husbands, emphasizing my sexuality was expected and condoned. I felt comfortable in this role and like most women, I was never more attractive (or thinner) than on my wedding day(s). I enjoyed being pursued and desired. But the feeling of desirability is long gone, a distant memory. Mothering and sensuality seemed antithetical. Mothers are meant to be available – perpetually opened armed with a ready lap: soothing, encouraging, nurturing…the antithesis of alluring. 

How am I ever going to find the other woman inside of me? I’m not a mother of young children any longer but neither am I The Other Woman! I’m definitely Between 2 Marys, in some androgynous zone of ambiguity. Perhaps the extreme duality of the whore/madonna can be tempered, even though centuries of history seem to indicate otherwise. In 16th Century Venice for example, this Italian city was founded in the myth of Venus rising from the sea. Two iconic yet disparate images of the goddess Venus reflected the mores of Venice; one goddess image is the pure and inviolate virgin, the other, its antithesis, the licentious goddess…seeker of pleasure and love. In viewing paintings of the disparate goddesses, the virgin is in white, alone or with angelic children, while the libidinous goddess is with a man, half-clothed,  the colour red prevalent!

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 Venetian women with a sizeable dowery, could marry a rich man. As his wife, the woman was a cloistered creature, without education or financial independence, her life being devoted entirely to home and family. Women without fortune chose to enter the convent  or to become a courtesan. But Venetian courtesans, unlike the wives, could mingle freely with the rich and famous and acquire an education and wealth of their own. They could  participate in literary, political and intellectual circles, publish any works, and importantly, all the sensual pleasures were available at her beckoning. Although the 16th Century Venetian courtesan lived a somewhat enviable lifestyle, this did not last. Religious zealots blamed the plague and war on the courtesans’ debauchery, and ended the delicate balance that allowed both sets of women to coexist.

 The polarity between the virtuous and the licentious became intensified. 500 years later and this tension still exists. Can a woman be compassionate and nurturing in ‘kick-ass’ high heels? Can a woman who enjoys a sensual life, have the respect of her society?

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 15 OF 52

CHANGING FROM MOTHER MARY TO MARY MAGDALENE

Where to start on this? How to move out of my comfort zone of intellectualizing The Other Woman, and become her? As this Blog is an open forum, ideas are welcome!

I will share one step I have made…I purchased  a beautiful, deep pink lipstick…and I am wearing it! This colour is more bold than any I have worn in years… if I wore lipstick at all. I feel good applying it to my lips. It certainly makes me more visible.

But most importantly, I must once again, see men as more than friends…I can barely type I am so nervous. I’m afraid of what I might commit to in my zeal to finish this post. I am driving back to BC and am scrambling to pack and schlep my stuff down the 3 flights of stairs.(not complaining too loudly dear daughter who has taken her Mother in).

See how quickly I can avoid the subject at hand!

Here goes…for Week 15 of 52 in my desire to move from the Mother Mary to Mary Magdalene, I will create a profile of myself and post it on a singles dating website. ARGHHH…

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Categories infidelity, love, Mary Magdalene, the other woman, transformation
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