Anatomy of a Wild Woman 

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“I AM BUILT CLOSE TO THE GROUND
AND OF EXTRAVAGANT BODY”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estes
 

who is the wild woman?

Who is the wild woman and what is she made of? 
Let us start off by stating what a wild woman is not. 
She is not uncivilized as the name might suggest.  

The wild woman is in fact, more civilized than most. As she is deeply connected with her origins, her wildish nature, her truth - which has been buried and hidden away from most. 

The wild woman is no longer bound by the lies that she has told herself nor is she bound by the programming sold by society.
She can explore many different options and many different paths if she chooses to.  The wild woman can live life in a beautiful, messy sort of way and doesn't have to fit a specific mold.  She knows she can create her own path if there is not one already made for her. 

The wild woman can stand back and she can bear witness. She can learn from others without compromising her own authenticity.
A wild woman can look beyond domestication - even her own domestication
and look at it with soft eyes, compassionate eyes, to know that she has done the best that she could possibly do with the resources and the tools that she had coming into this life, encountering the experiences that she had, with the people that presented them. She uses gut as intellect, her laughter is decadent and she is ripe with fun and folly.   

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The Wild Woman digs deep into all of the stories to slowly unravel them so that she can see the bigger design that she is a part of in which those stories might have kept her away from had they remained intact.  She is wild and she is free.

She is un-tethered, unbound.

She is a lover, shaman, mystic, maiden, midwife of birth and death, weaver of dreams, adorned with sovereign radiance and the ability to heal. Keeper of ancestral wisdom. 

She is infused with a personal liberation and can dance and prance and spin and sing at the top of her lungs and not give a damn about what anyone has to say about it. She acknowledges when she has mis-stepped. She looks to her mistakes for the answer to the lessons that only she can decipher.

She holds space for other wild women with compassion and knows that their process is not the same as her own process and unveiling.  

She knows how to love because she has had to learn the hard way.  She knows that love is not a beautiful noun.
She knows that love is the creation of all things.
That love is everything.  Love is action. Stillness.
Love is in every whisper and in every breath.  

The Wild Woman softens to it and she bows to it. Embraces it - 
even when it's difficult.  And though the stories that she has told herself and that society has told her and her mother and her mother's mother's mother - she knows that love is all that really matters.

 
 
“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.”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés