“Be wild; that is how to clear the river. The river does not flow in polluted, we manage that. The river does not dry up, we block it. If we want to allow it its freedom, we have to allow our ideational lives to be let loose, to stream, letting anything come, initially censoring nothing. That is creative life. It is made up of divine paradox. 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.”
― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With The Wolves: Contacting the Power of the Wild Woman
Like a lightning strike shattering the tree bowed to the ground in furious rain and battering wind, these moments of gut wrenching tears in the fabric of my life open my eyes to raw vistas of agony and joy… Maria
I am finding that it is in the world of myth, and poetry and dense, visceral feeling that life begins.
Colin Campbell touches upon this, as does Clarissa Esters.