Sublime

place substantial emphasis on clinical and developmental psychology, and I use the simplest and most accessible ingredient for healing—stories.

Under the tutelage of Wild Woman we reclaim the ancient, the intuitive, and the passionate.

Suppose, as in fairy tales of the shapechangers, the body is a God in its own right, a teacher, a mentor, a certified guide?

The persona is a mask a person shows to the world. It hides much. With proper psyche padding and disguises, both men and women can present a near-perfect persona, a near-perfect facade.

The tale calls our attention to traps and poisons we too easily take onto ourselves when we are caught in a famine of wild soul. Without a firm participation with the wild nature, a woman starves and falls into an obsession of “feel betters,” “leave me alones” and “love me—please.”

for and promises kept, I do not separate them from the

The story recommends that the optimal attitude for experiencing the deep unconscious is one of neither too much fascination nor too little, one of not too much awe but neither too much cynicism, bravery yes, but not recklessness.

My life and work as a Jungian psychoanalyst, poet, and cantadora, keeper of the old stories, have taught me that women’s flagging vitality can be restored by extensive “psychic-archeological” digs into the ruins of the female underworld.

Even though they’re wearing a ski mask, have a knife between their teeth, and a sack of money slung over their shoulder, we believe them when they tell us they’re in the banking business.