Marion Woodman & the Embodied, Conscious Feminine

Marion Woodman (1928-2018) was a renowned Canadian Jungian analyst, author, and lecturer who dedicated her life to exploring the relationship between the body, psyche, and spirit. She is best known for her pioneering work in the field of feminine psychology and the embodiment of the soul.

Born in London, Ontario in 1928, Marion Woodman grew up in a strict Presbyterian family. Her childhood was marked by a sense of spiritual longing and a desire to understand the mysteries of the universe. She pursued this interest through the study of literature and mythology, earning a Bachelor of Arts in English from the University of Western Ontario in 1949.

Over the course of her career, Woodman became increasingly interested in the relationship between the body and the psyche. She believed that our bodies hold a wealth of wisdom and that by listening to the signals of the body, we can gain access to our deepest truths. She developed a form of therapy that uses movement, breath, and other embodied practices to help clients connect with their inner selves.

Woodman’s work was deeply informed by her own struggles with anorexia, which she battled throughout her life. She believed that her eating disorder was a manifestation of a deeper spiritual crisis, and that by working with the body, she could access the spiritual realm and find healing.

Woodman’s work on feminine psychology has had a profound impact on the field of psychology, and her insights into the ways in which the feminine has been repressed and suppressed in Western culture have helped to open up new avenues for healing and transformation.

One of Woodman’s most influential books on feminine psychology is “Addiction to Perfection,” which explores the ways in which women in particular have been socialized to strive for perfection at the expense of their own health and well-being. Woodman argues that this addiction to perfection is a form of self-destructive behavior that is rooted in a disconnection from the body and from the feminine. She believes that we have been conditioned to believe that our bodies are flawed, imperfect, and unworthy of love, and have been taught to value ourselves based on external criteria such as beauty, success, and achievement, rather than on the deeper qualities of the soul.

In “The Pregnant Virgin,” Woodman explores the archetype of the Virgin Mary as a symbol of the feminine in Western culture. She argues that Mary represents a kind of split between the body and the spirit, and that this split has led to a profound sense of disconnection from the body and from the earth. Woodman suggests that the repression of the feminine has created a deep wound in the collective psyche, and that this wound must be healed if we are to find wholeness and integration. She believes that the suppression of the feminine has led to a profound sense of disconnection from the body, from the earth, and from our own souls.

Another key aspect of Woodman’s work on feminine psychology is her focus on the body and the ways in which it holds wisdom and healing. She believed that the body is a source of intuitive knowledge, and that by listening to the signals of the body, we can gain access to our deepest truths. In her book “Dancing in the Flames,” Woodman writes about the importance of embodiment and the ways in which movement and dance can help us to connect with the body and access its wisdom.

Woodman’s work on feminine psychology has also had a profound impact on the field of addiction treatment. In her book “The Ravaged Bridegroom,” she explores the connection between addiction and the suppression of the feminine. She argues that addiction is a form of self-destructive behavior that is rooted in a disconnection from the body and from the feminine. For Woodman, addiction is a symptom of a deeper wound in the psyche, a wound that is created by the suppression of the feminine, and that to heal addiction, we must learn to reconnect with the body and with the feminine.

Throughout her career, Woodman was also a passionate advocate for women’s rights and a pioneer in the field of feminine spirituality. She believed that by reclaiming the feminine, both men and women could find greater wholeness and healing, and she worked tirelessly to promote this message throughout her life. Her insights into the ways in which the feminine has been repressed and suppressed in Western culture have helped to open up new avenues for healing and transformation, and her message of wholeness and integration remains as relevant today as it was during her lifetime.

The Anima and the Animus in Jungian Psychology

Carl Jung was a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who founded analytical psychology. Among his contributions to this field was the concept of the anima and animus, which refers to the feminine and masculine aspects of the human psyche, respectively. According to Jung, every person has both an anima and an animus, regardless of their gender. These two archetypes represent the inner world of a person and can affect their behavior and relationships.

Jung believed that the anima and animus have a powerful influence on the psyche, often operating on an unconscious level. The anima represents the feminine qualities within a man’s psyche, while the animus represents the masculine qualities within a woman’s psyche. Each person has their own unique anima or animus, and it can take on a variety of forms depending on the individual’s experiences and personal history.

Jung believed that the anima and animus function as the mediator between the conscious and unconscious mind, helping to bridge the gap between the two. By embracing these inner archetypes, individuals can become more whole and integrated, leading to a greater sense of balance and harmony in their lives.

In men, the anima often appears as a feminine ideal, representing the qualities of tenderness, intuition, and emotion. It can also manifest in the form of a muse, inspiring creativity and artistic expression. Men who are in touch with their anima tend to be more empathetic and compassionate, with a greater understanding of the emotional needs of others.

However, when a man is not in touch with his anima, he may become overly aggressive or detached from his emotions, leading to problems in his relationships with others. He may struggle to connect with his partner emotionally, leading to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Conversely, a man who is too in touch with his anima may become overly sensitive and lack the assertiveness needed to maintain healthy boundaries in his relationships.

In women, the animus often appears as a masculine ideal, representing the qualities of assertiveness, logic, and rationality. It can also manifest in the form of a protector, providing strength and support in times of need. Women who are in touch with their animus tend to be more independent and self-assured, with a greater ability to navigate the challenges of life.

However, when a woman is not in touch with her animus, she may become overly passive or dependent on others, leading to a lack of autonomy and self-confidence. She may struggle to assert herself in her relationships, leading to feelings of powerlessness and resentment. Conversely, a woman who is too in touch with her animus may become overly aggressive or domineering, leading to difficulties in her relationships with others.

In relationships, the anima and animus can play a significant role in shaping the dynamics between partners. For example, a man who is in touch with his anima may be more attuned to his partner’s emotional needs, leading to a greater sense of intimacy and connection. Conversely, a man who is disconnected from his anima may struggle to understand his partner’s emotional cues, leading to misunderstandings and conflicts.

Similarly, a woman who is in touch with her animus may be more assertive and confident in her relationships, leading to a greater sense of equality and respect between partners. However, a woman who is overly identified with her animus may become overly aggressive or domineering, leading to power struggles and conflicts with her partner.

In conclusion, Carl Jung’s theory of the anima and animus provides valuable insights into the feminine and masculine aspects of the human psyche and how they operate in relationships. Embracing and integrating these inner archetypes can lead to greater balance and harmony in one’s life and relationships.

However, an imbalance or over-identification with either the anima or animus can lead to difficulties and conflicts. Understanding and working with these archetypes can help individuals navigate their relationships more effectively and cultivate a greater sense of wholeness and self-awareness.

When We Dead Awaken: Part 3

If I’m ever going to create my future, I’m going to have to come to terms with my past.

I’ve been trying to avoid it, deny it, explain it away, make excuses for it, compensate for it, erase it, and so much more.

I’ve struggled to accept that this is the truth of my life. That this isn’t “just a phase.” It isn’t just going to disappear one day like it never happened.

I think I may have (unconsciously) thought that if I worked hard enough I would be “cured,” I’d become 100% “better”, and it would all be as if nothing had ever happened. That there would be some kind of “redemption” where I would be saved from my own damn self.

In practice what this meant was that I was working toward a model, a “goal” identity, that was completely inappropriate for me.

I wanted so badly to be normal. I would have done anything to not be so “complicated.”

The ideal future self I had in mind was so boring, so basic. So unthreatening. She was some happy, carefree, extraverted, easy going, and very chill girl (that’s why they said they wanted from me, right?).

I thought I could nip and tuck and edit away all of my humanity, become acceptable to the greater mass of society, and call it a success. 

I would know I had “made it” when I was deemed normal by everyone and no one ever said anything bad about me ever again.

That was my vision for health: to completely erase myself, and finally just be what everyone else wanted me to be. 


My vision now is this: I will not deny my past, I will not erase this self. I will not even try to compensate for the suffering I’ve had with some grandiose and misguided attempt to “make it all worth it.”

I will integrate my past. I will honor myself.

I will acknowledge all of the places and the people I have been, regardless of how strange or scary others find them to be.

I will speak to the truth of who I was, and how it was that I became who I am today.

The Wisdom of the Crescent Moon Bear

Journal Date: 10:15am – Thursday, November 5, 2020

I’ve been reading a chapter in Women Who Run with the Wolves today. This one is on rage, something I do need guidance on at this moment in my life.

Here, she tells the story of the “Crescent Moon Bear” as a way to show us how we can deal with our anger.

The story starts with a woman preparing for her husband to come back from the war. She goes shopping and cooks meals for him and does everything she can to please him and make him happy.

But when she goes to him and offers him what she has made, he gets angry and flips over the trays, sending everything she has worked so hard to prepare onto the floor.

The pattern repeats itself over many nights. The man is still in a state of shock, and will not be consoled. His mind is still preoccupied with the images of violence and fear he has seen and experienced in the war he’s only just returned from.

So the woman, in a state of distress, goes to seek out the healer on the outskirts of the village.

The healer tells her to go climb to mountain and bring her back one hair from the throat of the Crescent Moon Bear.

So the woman ascends the mountain by herself to meet the bear.

As she walks the trail up the mountain among the rocks and under the trees, she says, “Arigato zaisho,” a way of thanking the mountain for allowing her to walk on her body and to pass safely.

Getting to even higher ground, she surprised by the birds which fly out at and then past her, these birds representing the spirits of the dead with no family, the muen-botoke.

She tells them, “I will be your relative. I will lay you to rest.”

The muen-botoke symbolize the parts of ourselves which we may have abandoned during times of distress.

These can be thought of as the difficult emotions and experiences which we may have repressed or dissociated from during any incident which was traumatic or otherwise overwhelmed our body’s capacity to cope.

The woman promises them that she will be their family, she will bury them. With this, it is as if she is saying, “I will recognize you as my own, I will honor you and put you to rest.”

Finally, after continued struggling up the mountain, the woman finds the tracks of the crescent moon bear. She hides near the entrance of her cave, and every morning, she leaves food out for the bear to discover upon waking in the morning.

Slowly, with patience, she gets closer and closer to the Crescent Moon Bear, until one day she finds herself directly underneath it.

She tells the bear of her situation, about her angry husband who has come back from the war traumatized and upset, and asks the bear for a single hair from its throat which she needs to heal her husband.

The bear, taking pity on her, consents to let the woman take one hair from the shining silvery crescent on her throat.

Having received the white hair from the crescent moon on the throat of the bear she rushes down the mountain through the Village to the house of the healer.

She rushes up to present the single white hair to her. The healer then smiles and throws the hair into the fire.

The woman cries out in despair, having lost the one ingredient she had struggled so much to obtain in order to heal her husband.

The healer reassured her, telling her the hair itself was not necessary. In learning how to approach the Crescent Moon Bear, win its trust and receive its message, she had learned what she must do to heal her husband as well.

“Now you know what you need to do. Go home, and repeat everything you have just done here with your husband. That is how you can heal this rage and find love again.”


In this story, we can take each character be a part of the woman’s own psyche.

The husband represents animus, the masculine inside of us, in this case the part which has been wounded. Normally, it is responsible for outer directed activity, for creating structure and boundaries and pursuing ambition and achievements in the world.

However, when wounded, it may have a tendency to respond by being either shut down, pushing others away, or with senseless rage and aggression. These responses are typical of the “fight-flight-freeze” trauma responses that are activated after periods of great stress or danger.

The woman here stands for the anima, or the emotional, feminine part of our psyches. This is the part which loves, which strives for union and ultimately seeks healing by going to find the healer outside of the village.

The bear can be thought to represent the wisdom of rage itself. The Crescent Moon Bear, and the primal power of sacred rage which she represents, are something which many of us fear and reject, but which, when approached with the proper care and respect, can ultimately serve as one of our greatest teachers.

The woman’s interactions with the bear and the environment around her along with her journey up the mountain show us a way in which we can start to come to terms with these difficult and troubling feelings.

With caution, with respect, with care, understanding and a little bit of fierceness, we can find the wisdom we need to release our pain while preserving our natural instinct to protect.

The bear teaches “that one can be fierce and generous at the same time. One can be reticent and valuable. One can protect one’s territory, make one’s boundaries clear, shake the sky if need be, yet be available, accessible, engendering all at the same time.”

In fact, I believe that in many ways it is the “NO” which makes the “YES” possible. If we are unable to communicate the points which are our limits, we will never be able to feel truly comfortable expressing the fullness of our power and can never express the fullness of our generosity, as well.


When we have discovered how to approach the tender, hurting parts of ourselves which we have previously sought to disown, we can begin the journey of healing and learning from our rage.

Our anger and our pain are worthy of being treated with respect. To push them away, or to ask that they simply “be nice” and act as if nothing has happened, is to do ourselves a disservice.

It is understandable to be wary of such a powerful and potentially explosive current of raw energy within ourselves. But there is a message waiting for us if we can sit quietly and let it speak to us.R

Repression or denial is hardly effective. In fact, it only makes the denied energy louder and more destructive, as it struggles to get us to pay attention to pain which needs tending to.

There is inestimable hope and healing available to those who turn towards the powerful sacred rage of the Crescent Moon Bear.

As Clarissa Pinkola Estes says, “Women who are tortured often develop a dazzling kind of perception that has uncanny depth and breadth. Although I would never wish anyone tortured in order to learn the secret ins and outs of the unconscious, the fact is, having lived through a gross repression causes gifts to arise that compensate and protect.

In that respect a woman who has lived a torturous life and delved deeply into it definitely has inestimable depth. Though she came to it through pain, if she has done the hard work of clinging to consciousness, she will have a deep and thriving soul-life and a fierce belief in herself regardless of the occasional ego-waverings.”

I know that this is true about me. This has been my path. What was once my shame is becoming my strength, and of that I am proud.

Visions of Xiuhcóatl: Part 2

Me as Cynthia, about to get eaten

During the last days of my medical treatment for the parasite, I was still feeling a lot of generalized fear and anxiety that would seem to come from nowhere and overtake me without warning.

One night, I was in meditation and I started to have a lot of fear regarding the way the vision had ended, with me being eaten by the turquoise serpent.

I think it was in response to one of the images Noé had sent me, of the man being swallowed by the serpent.

In his message he had said, “we see the being consumed by the matter planes and lower body impulses (Coátl) and unable to act for itself controlled by the parasites..”

😬

I was like, “Uh oh…this guy on the Mayan vase looks A LOT like me being eaten the other day. Am I in trouble?” 

I started to panic, thinking, “Oh no, it’s all over, I’m doomed,” etc.

But a stronger voice from above said, “Hell no! Don’t believe it. You will be given another vision, you’ll know what to do.”

I thought, “Oh no, not now! I’m too scared. I couldn’t…”

But it came more quickly than I’d imagined it would.

First, I saw the turquoise serpent to my right, with my body still in its belly.

Then a very large dragon appeared: a bright green, distinctly female dragon. It had a cute little red bow attached to the left side of its head. I feel a bit silly saying this, but that’s kind of how I knew it was me.

But not the personal, little me, not Eleanor, lying immobilized in the serpent’s stomach.

It was my higher self, my soul, the part of me which is eternal and beyond.

She took a step toward the serpent and looked him right in the eyes. He bowed his head, and though he didn’t seem to like it, he didn’t make any move to resist as she stepped forward and swallowed him whole, head-first.

It’s your turn now hehe 😉

I was a bit confused by this detail. “Are you sure?” I had always seen those images of the Ouroboros, the snake (or sometimes dragon) eating its own tail, and I thought it would be the same here.

“No, it has to be this way,” was the answer.

As I watched the last bit of the serpent’s tail disappear into her mouth, the dragon gave herself a little pat on the belly. With a wink, she said, “Don’t worry, babe. It’s not to hurt you, it’s to integrate you.” 😉

[Apparently my higher self has a sense of humor.]

I immediately recognized her words as echoing those of the serpent as he swallowed me to “transmute” me.

And then I saw as the head of the serpent reached the tail of the dragon, and vice versa. In this way, the opposites met and were joined.

The insides of their bodies dissolved into a golden, liquid substance, while their skins hardened into the shell of an egg. 

I saw my body inside the golden amniotic fluid of what was, I soon noticed, not an egg but a chrysalis. 

I lay inside this cocoon where, like the butterfly, I would soon begin to undergo the process of digesting myself, dissolving the cells of what once was in order to be transformed into the self I was born to become. 

And with that, the vision ended: with me, in a gentle sleep before the last decay. Relaxed, safe and enclosed within my own energy, ready to release and to regenerate anew. 

That night I slept more peacefully than I have in many months. I felt it was an important conclusion to something which still felt unfinished after the first vision.