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 Maze & the Labyrinth

Many of us consider a maze and a labyrinth to be one and the same thing, but there is actually a subtle difference.

LABYRINTH is the term used when there is only one fixed, or unicursal, path to the center.

A MAZE, on the other hand, refers to a multicursal path that may contain dead ends or different ways to reach the center, and where the possibility always exists to become lost within.

For example, the structure built by Daedalus to hold the minotaur in Ancient Greek mythology has usually been referred to as a labyrinth, but today we might all this a maze, as it was clearly multicursal, with many complex paths and dead ends meant to trap the minotaur.


The unicursal labyrinth is powerful symbol of spiritual transformation. The labyrinth was a symbol which combined the circle and the spiral into one symbol of wholeness.

The Labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral

To move from the outside starting point of the labyrinth to the center, and then back again, is symbolic of the spiritual journey to the center of the self and beyond.


I found a lot of insight into the symbols of the maze and the labyrinth in the words Marion Woodman, renowned author and Jungian analyst:

“A maze is a puzzle to be solved. It has dead ends. You may get lost in a maze. You run into a minotaur and be killed.”

Marion Woodman

Like Woodman, I spent many years of my life feeling like I was trapped in a mazed, living as if in fear of a deadly minotaur, and confronting dead end after useless dead end.


“A labyrinth looks superficially like a maze, but it’s different. There are no dead ends, no traps. There is only one path, and it takes you by a circuitous route to the center.”

In her own life, Woodman found that when she at last confronted her deepest fears and faced death, she was also able to realize the perfection of her life experience and see the purpose of her path.

“I was finally able to surrender to life, because at long last I KNEW there was a center and that if I kept listening, opening, and walking forward, my path would lead me to that center.”

I am finding that the same is true for me. I am going to keep walking. I know the center is there, ever present, just waiting for me to open my eyes to it.