Kurukulla: Goddess of Enchantment, Magnetism and Love

Kurukulla, an enchanting and dynamic deity in tantric Tibetan Buddhism, holds a unique and multifaceted place in the rich tapestry of Vajrayana traditions. 

As a manifestation of divine feminine energy, Kurukulla embodies the power of transformation, desire, and magnetism, making her a central figure in rituals and meditative practices.

At the heart of Kurukulla’s symbolism is her association with desire. Unlike conventional perceptions that often view desire as an obstacle on the spiritual path, Tibetan tantric traditions recognize its transformative potential. 

Kurukulla’s depiction with a bow and arrow signifies her ability to captivate and direct desire towards spiritual awakening. In this context, desire becomes a force that can propel practitioners beyond mundane attachments and into the realm of higher consciousness.

The vibrant red color that envelops Kurukulla is not merely a visual choice but a symbolic representation of passion and magnetism. Red is the color of life force, the pulsating energy that animates all existence. As practitioners engage with Kurukulla’s imagery, they are invited to embrace their own desires, recognizing them as a natural and potent aspect of their spiritual journey.

In Tibetan iconography, Kurukulla often stands atop a lotus, emphasizing her transcendence over worldly attachments. 

The lotus, with its roots in the mud and blossoms open towards the sun, mirrors the transformative journey from mundane existence to spiritual enlightenment. Kurukulla’s lotus throne serves as a reminder that, like the lotus, practitioners can rise above their circumstances through the alchemy of desire. She reminds us that in order to reach the heights of enlightenment we must first be rooted in the mundane world.

Kurukulla’s role as a magnetizing deity extends beyond personal transformation to encompass the magnetism of wisdom and compassion. Her enchanting presence is believed to draw forth the positive qualities of enlightened beings, amplifying the practitioner’s connection to the divine. Through invoking Kurukulla, practitioners seek to cultivate not only personal transformation but also a magnetic field of compassion and wisdom that can benefit all sentient beings.

In tantric practices, including those dedicated to Kurukulla, the erotic is seen as a potent force for spiritual awakening. Rather than suppressing or denying sexual energy, practitioners are encouraged to harness and transmute it into a tool for transformation. 

The erotic, in this context, becomes a metaphor for the intense, all-encompassing passion that can propel individuals beyond ordinary states of consciousness.

The erotic, in tantric philosophy, is viewed as a sacred expression of the union of wisdom and compassion. The dance of passion becomes a vehicle for experiencing the interconnectedness of all things and dissolving the boundaries between self and other. 

In tantric rituals dedicated to Kurukulla, practitioners may engage in visualizations that involve the union of male and female deities, symbolizing the integration of polarities within the individual psyche. The erotic imagery serves as a catalyst for transcending dualities and experiencing the divine union that lies at the core of enlightenment.

By embracing the erotic as a path to enlightenment, practitioners of Kurukulla’s teachings embark on a journey of profound self-discovery. The alchemical transformation of desire and the skillful integration of the erotic into spiritual practice become powerful tools for breaking through conventional boundaries and realizing the interconnected, non-dual nature of reality.

The path that Kurukulla represents is sometimes associated with the left hand path, as are many aspects of spirituality that are associated with desire or with the feminine.

As a result, some spiritual seekers shy away from Kurukulla and what she represents. I know that this was true for me when I first set out on the spiritual path. I was uncomfortable with many aspects of my self and my environment. I wanted to transcend reality, rather than embrace it.

When I speak of the erotic, I do so in the same way that Audre Lorde did when she said:

“The very word erotic comes from the Greek word eros, the personification of love in all its aspects – born of Chaos, and personifying creative power and harmony. When I speak of the erotic, then, I speak of it as an assertion of the lifeforce of women; of that creative energy empowered, the knowledge and use of which we are now reclaiming in our language, our history, our dancing, our loving, our work, our lives.”

The path of Kurukulla, and of the erotic in general, requires that we acknowledge all that is true on all dimensions of our being. It pulls us toward what is most true and alive within us. 

I believe this is especially true in my experience as a woman. I have had the type of experience that is common for many women, in which we are encouraged to deny what is real for us in order to please or pacify those around us.

“For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavors bring us closest to that fullness,” Lorde writes.

It is in the fullness of that experience that true enlightenment is to be found. It is in embracing all the elements of our aliveness that we can experience what it truly means to reach the highest experience as a human being. 

The goddess Kurukulla reminds us of this path toward an experience of the divine that we may choose to follow if we are brave enough and willing to do so.

Book Review | Introduction to Tantra: The Transformation of Desire by Lama Yeshe

Introduction to Tantra: The Transformation of Desire by Lama Yeshe

“Introduction to Tantra: The Transformation of Desire” by Lama Yeshe is a profound exploration of the esoteric world of Tibetan Buddhism, specifically the Vajrayana tradition of Tantra. Lama Yeshe, a highly respected Tibetan Buddhist teacher, takes readers on a journey into the complex and mystical realm of Tantra, providing a clear and accessible introduction to this ancient spiritual practice.

According to Buddhism, the ultimate goal of the human experience is full enlightenment. This occurs when all delusions such as greed, hatred and ignorance have been overcome in the mind. 

There are many different paths to enlightenment, but most of these fall within two different types of vehicles, or yanas.

The most common of these is known as sutrayana. Here, the path to enlightenment is seen as a gradual process in which one removes all negative patterns of thought and replaces them with positive qualities like love and wisdom. It is considered to be a long process in which, if we work hard, we may one day arrive at fulfillment.

The second is tantrayana, and is often referred to as the “lightning” or “diamond” vehicle. This is because it is considered the fastest road to liberation. In the tantric perspective, we already have all the qualities of an enlightened soul within us now. They simply need to be cultivated and brought out into their full expression.

“Everything that we need in order to be complete is within us right at this very moment. It is simply a matter of being able to recognize it. This is the tantric approach.”

One of the key strengths of “Introduction to Tantra” is its ability to convey the essence of Tantra as a path to spiritual transformation. Lama Yeshe emphasizes that Tantra is not about indulging in sensual pleasures, as some may believe, but rather a profound method for reaching spiritual enlightenment. 

As a Buddhist tradition, Tantra advocates following the middle path, in which desire is neither rejected completely or overly indulged in. It is instead believed that we must cultivate the right attitude toward desire and pleasure, neither clinging to our experience of them or avoiding them altogether.

“Instead of viewing pleasure and desire as something to be avoided at all costs, tantra recognizes the powerful energy aroused by our desires to be an indispensable resource for the spiritual path,” writes Lama Yeshe. 

“Contrary to what some people might believe, there is nothing wrong with having pleasures and enjoyments. What is wrong is the confused way we grasp on to these pleasures, turning them from a source of happiness into a source of pain and dissatisfaction. It is such grasping and attachment that is the problem, not the pleasures themselves.”

If we ever wish to attain the supreme bliss of enlightenment, then we must begin now by cultivating the right attitude towards the everyday desires and enjoyments which present themselves to us in the course of our regular life.

“Thus the logic of tantra is really very simple: our experience of ordinary pleasure can be used as the resource for attaining the supremely pleasurable experience of totality, or enlightenment.”

The heart of the book delves into the various aspects of Tantra, where Lama Yeshe explains how Tantra utilizes visualizations and rituals to connect with the divine, enabling practitioners to transcend the ordinary and access higher states of consciousness. His teachings are grounded in the idea that the divine resides within each of us and that Tantra is a path to reveal that inner divinity.

One of the most valuable aspects of “Introduction to Tantra” is the emphasis on practical guidance. Lama Yeshe provides step-by-step instructions for meditation and visualization practices, making this book a valuable resource for both beginners and experienced practitioners. He emphasizes the importance of having a qualified teacher, but acknowledges that the book can serve as a supplement to one’s spiritual journey.

The book also highlights the importance of ethics and compassion in Tantra practice. Lama Yeshe underscores that Tantra is not a means to power or personal gain but a path to selfless service and spiritual awakening. He encourages readers to cultivate love and compassion, both for themselves and for all sentient beings, as an integral part of their practice. 

“As long as we remain obsessively concerned with our own happiness alone, we will never experience the supreme happiness of a fully enlightened mind… If we wish to reach the highest possible destination we must cultivate the highest possible motivation for following the spiritual path.”

According to Lama Yeshe, if we are to progress at all on the path of Tantra toward enlightenment, we must be motivated not only by selfish desires but by the desires to benefit those around us, as well. 

“In Buddhist terminology this supreme motivation is known as bodhicitta. It is the impulse to achieve full enlightenment (bodhi, or buddhahood) in order to be of the most benefit to others. Only through dedicating ourselves to working for the happiness of all beings – in other words only by cultivating the open heart of bodhicitta – can we ever experience supreme happiness ourselves.”

Lama Yeshe’s “Introduction to Tantra” is not merely an intellectual exploration; it’s an invitation to embark on a profound spiritual journey. The author’s deep wisdom and profound insights shine through in every chapter. He makes complex concepts accessible, providing practical advice for readers to engage with Tantra in a meaningful way.

In conclusion, “Introduction to Tantra” is a valuable resource for anyone interested in exploring the world of Tibetan Buddhism and the transformative power of Tantra. Lama Yeshe’s accessible writing style and his commitment to demystifying Tantra make this book a must-read for those seeking spiritual growth and enlightenment. 

With its practical guidance, ethical framework, and deep insights, this book serves as a great introduction to Tantra and Vajrayana Buddhism for those on the path to self-discovery and spiritual awakening, and it is a valuable addition to the library of anyone interested in Eastern spirituality and philosophy.

The Dream Temple of Asclepius: A Portal to Healing Through Dreams

In the ancient world, dreams were not merely fleeting nocturnal experiences but were considered profound sources of wisdom and guidance. People believed that their dreams held the key to understanding their deepest desires, as well as a means of connecting with the power of the divine. 

Dream incubation was a revered and ritualistic practice that held a central place in the cultures of many civilizations, including the Greeks, Egyptians, and Romans of the time. Those seeking divine guidance or healing would prepare for dream incubation by participating in elaborate ceremonies.

These rituals might include offerings to deities, purifications, and the recitation of prayers or invocations. The dreamers would then retire to a specially designated sleeping chamber where they would await a visitation or guidance in their dreams.

Among the many temples and sanctuaries dedicated to dream incubation, the dream temple of Asclepius stands as one of the most famous and enduring institutions of its kind. It served as a sacred space for healing and spiritual growth through the incubation and interpretation of dreams.

The Mythical Origins of Asclepius

Asclepius, the ancient Greek god of medicine and healing, played a central role in the temple’s legacy. According to Greek mythology, Asclepius was the son of Apollo and Coronis. His powerful ability to heal made him revered among mortals and gods alike. As the legend goes, Asclepius became so skilled in the art of medicine that he could even revive the dead.

This began to raise the concern of Hades, the god of the underworld, and he complained to Zeus. In response, Zeus struck Asclepius down with a lightning bolt, but later, recognizing the necessity of Asclepius’s talents, placed him among the stars as the constellation Ophiuchus, the Serpent Bearer.

Asclepius is linked to modern medicine today through the symbol of the Rod of Asclepius, still used by many medical associations today.

The Dream Temple: A Gateway to Healing

Asclepius’s enduring connection to healing and the divine led to the establishment of dream temples in his honor, with the most famous of these located in Epidaurus, Greece. These sanctuaries provided a sacred space for individuals seeking cures for their ailments and answers to their questions through dreams. The temple’s design and environment were carefully curated to promote an atmosphere conducive to dream incubation.

One of the most striking features of the temple was the Abaton, a specially designed sleeping chamber that resembled a cave. People seeking healing or guidance would stay in the Abaton after participating in certain rituals designed to incubate a dream.

They would spend the night there, hoping to receive a divine dream from Asclepius, who often appeared in dreams as a physician offering guidance and remedies. These dreams could contain instructions for treatments, the identification of herbs for healing, or simply comforting reassurance.

The dream seekers would then recount their dreams to the temple priests or priestesses, known as therapeutes, who would interpret the dreams and provide guidance for the necessary course of action. This practice of dream incubation and interpretation formed the heart of the temple’s therapeutic methods. It was not merely a place for physical healing but also a sanctuary for the nourishment of the soul.

Legacy and Influence

The dream temple of Asclepius has left a mark on the history of medicine, psychology, and spirituality. Its emphasis on the significance of dreams in the healing process predates many modern therapeutic practices. The temple served as a precursor to contemporary psychotherapy and the exploration of the subconscious mind.

In many ways, the practice of dream incubation and interpretation foreshadowed the vital role dreams play in understanding ourselves and becoming more aware of our inner experience. Today, practices like dream analysis, Jungian psychology, and dream tending can trace their roots back to the ancient dream incubation practices of the temple.

The dream temple of Asclepius stands as a testament to the enduring belief in the power of dreams as a source of healing and insight. It was a place where individuals sought solace and answers, where the boundaries between the divine and human, the conscious and subconscious, blurred. 

The temple’s legacy continues to influence contemporary therapeutic and spiritual practices, reminding us of the profound wisdom that can be unlocked through the enigmatic world of dreams. 

Chiron in the 8th House: Delving into Deep Wounds and Creating Transformative Healing

Astrology can be one of the most effective tools for self-discovery and introspection, providing insights into our personalities, life paths, and the challenges we may face along the way.

One celestial body that carries profound significance in astrological interpretations is Chiron, often referred to as the “wounded healer.”

When Chiron is placed in the 8th House of a natal chart, its presence brings a unique blend of intensity, transformation, and deep emotional healing.

Understanding Chiron

Before delving into Chiron’s placement in the 8th House, it’s essential to grasp the essence of Chiron itself. In astrology, Chiron is considered a “minor planet” or “asteroid” and symbolizes the archetype of the wounded healer.

According to ancient Greek mythology, Chiron was a centaur, a creature known for its dual nature, being part human and part horse.

However, Chiron was unique among all centaurs; he was wise, gentle, and profoundly skilled in the healing arts and various forms of knowledge. Chiron’s wisdom and compassion set him apart from his wild and often savage brethren.

The astrological significance of Chiron’s myth lies in his dual nature. According to the ancient myth, Chiron suffered a wound that was both incurable and eternal. This wound, often depicted as an arrow, was accidentally inflicted by Hercules, but with poison he had been given by Chiron himself.

Despite his immense knowledge and healing abilities, Chiron could not heal himself. This myth underscores the idea that even those who possess great wisdom and healing capacities are not immune to their own wounds and vulnerabilities.

In astrology, Chiron’s placement in a natal chart symbolizes an area of deep emotional and psychological wounds. However, it also reveals where individuals can become sources of healing and guidance for others. Chiron’s myth, therefore, teaches us that our own wounds can become sources of strength and that our deepest vulnerabilities can connect us with others in profound and transformative ways.

The 8th House: The House of Transformation

The 8th House in astrology is often associated with profound transformation, shared resources, death, rebirth, and intimate connections. It’s a house of intensity and depth, and when Chiron is located here, it amplifies these themes.

Chiron in the 8th House signifies a deep wound related to intimacy, trust, and shared resources. This wound could manifest as fear of vulnerability, difficulties in merging with others on a deep emotional level, or issues related to inheritance and joint finances.

Significance of Chiron in the 8th House

Individuals with Chiron in the 8th House are often drawn to experiences that force them to confront their deepest wounds. These challenges may present themselves through intense relationships, financial crises, or experiences of profound change. These experiences, while challenging, can ultimately be opportunities for growth and healing.

The 8th House rules over matters of intimacy and trust, and Chiron’s presence here can indicate significant wounds in these areas. Individuals may struggle with letting others in, fear betrayal, or grapple with issues of power and control in their relationships.

Chiron’s placement in the 8th House also bestows individuals with a unique ability to empathize with the pain of others. They can often become skilled healers or counselors, using their own experiences of healing and transformation to guide and support others on their journeys.

Over time, those with Chiron in the 8th House can develop remarkable resilience and inner strength. Their ability to confront and heal their deepest wounds gives them a sense of empowerment and a profound connection to the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

Ultimately, Chiron in the 8th House represents the “dark night of the soul,” where individuals must confront their inner demons and face their fears head-on. It often represents a journey from woundedness to wisdom, where the individual can learn to harness their own transformative power. The symbolism of this placement is much like to that of the phoenix rising from its ashes—a powerful metaphor for rebirth and renewal.

Ultimately, this placement teaches us that our deepest wounds can be sources of strength and that through embracing our own vulnerability, we can facilitate powerful and enduring transformation in our lives and the lives of those around us.

Healing Chiron Issues in the 8th House

Understanding the archetypal significance of Chiron is just the first part of the process of healing issues associated with the 8th house

There are many types of practices that can help us process our inner experience and transmute what is in darkness or unconscious within. Seeking support in this way can provide us with the tools we need to navigate the depths of the 8th House and integrate the transformative power of Chiron. Let’s explore some of them:

Shadow Work

Shadow work is a profound psychological and spiritual practice that involves delving into the hidden, often unconscious aspects of the self—the shadow. With Chiron in the 8th House, this type of work takes on a heightened significance. To start engaging with the shadow in your own personal unconscious, you can start integrating these practices into your life:

Self-Reflection: Engage in regular self-reflection to identify recurring patterns, fears, and unresolved emotional wounds related to trust, intimacy, and shared resources.

Journaling: Maintain a journal to record dreams, thoughts, and emotions. Explore the symbolism and archetypal themes that arise during this process.

Therapy or Counseling: Seek guidance from a trained therapist or counselor, especially one who specializes in depth psychology or Jungian psychology. They can help individuals navigate the depths of their psyche and provide tools for healing.

Rituals and Ceremonies

Rituals serve as powerful symbolic acts that connect individuals with archetypal energies and facilitate transformation. When working with Chiron in the 8th House, consider incorporating some of these rituals into your practice as part of your healing journey:

New Moon Rituals: Align your healing work with the cycles of the Moon. New moon rituals, in particular, are excellent for setting intentions and releasing old wounds associated with Chiron’s placement.

Candle Magic: Light candles of specific colors associated with the 8th House (for example, deep red) to create an ambiance conducive to inner exploration and healing.

Meditation and Visualization: Use guided meditations and visualization techniques to journey into the depths of your subconscious, where Chiron’s wounds are often stored. Visualize these wounds transforming into sources of strength and wisdom.

Astrological Consultation: Consult with a skilled astrologer who specializes in Chiron placements and how to work with them. They can provide insights into your unique journey and offer guidance on harnessing the transformative potential of Chiron in the 8th House.

By engaging in practices meant to cultivate self-awareness and transformation, individuals can transmute their deepest wounds into sources of wisdom and strength. When working with these issues, we should also remember that any healing process is deeply personal and ongoing, and each person’s path is unique.

The bottom line is that with dedication, self-awareness, and the willingness to confront the depths of the psyche, Chiron’s placement in the 8th House can become a catalyst for profound inner changes and personal evolution.

Inner Visions | February 4, 2021

Journal Date: February 4th, 2021

I had another reiki session with Angelic yesterday.

As usual, it was a good experience. I feel like it was very healing.

This time I also had very interesting and intense visions while she was doing the energy healing.

It began as it usually does.

At first, I didn’t see very much at all. 

Then, shifting colors began appearing in my field of inner vision.

After a few more minutes, a more definite image began to emerge.

It took me by surprise.

The first image that appeared was a crocodile. 

It was not what I expected.

But I decided to just stay with it, allow it, follow it and see where it took me.

I followed it down the banks of the Nile River and ended up in Ancient Egypt. I saw the great civilization, and all of the magic that went on there. I could see the great cities, and the temples lit up at night.

And I tried to look for myself, to see if I was there, how I fit into all this.

And with that, I found myself somewhere else.

This time, it was morning, and I was in a garden, somewhere in or near Mexico City.

I was wearing a flowing white knee length dress and gold sandals, and my dog Beso was there with me, with a white and gold collar and leash set.

We walked together along a garden path until we reached an elegant temple in the middle of the tropical garden we were in.

Together, we walked up the stairs and stepped inside.

The inside of this temple was dazzlingly beautiful, and with its high vaulted ceilings and long expanses of glass windows stretching up towards the sky, had the look and feel of a renaissance cathedral.

I walked, with Beso beside me on his leash, down the long aisle towards the beautifully decorated altar.

Once we arrived at the front of the cathedral, I noticed another section of this temple which had caught my attention. I turned to my left and began walking in this direction.

This section of the temple appeared to be a museum, and it was much darker here than the rest of the space, the only light coming from the glass box display cases.

Stepping inside, I realized that this museum was dedicated to me.

Looking closer, I could see, yes, each display case held items or photographs of events from my past. It was arranged chronologically, starting at birth.

My first thought on seeing this was, “Oh no… I can’t go through this again.”

I heard a voice (which would later speak to me at similar critical times) answer, “Yes, you can. You can do this. It’s safe to see what there is to be seen here.”

So I took a step forward, and I continued.


It was difficult to go back through this reliquary containing my past. 

So much suffering was contained within these displays.

But there was beauty, and there were tender moments, some measure of sweetness, and little bit of joy, as well.

As I walked, there were moments that overwhelmed me, and I felt that I could not go on.

But as before, a voice from beyond encouraged me. “Keep going. You can. There is nothing for you to fear within these walls.”

So I did.

I walked and I looked and I took the time to feel for everything that came up.

I cried, very often. So many tears had to be shed.

But this time, they were tears of compassion, sympathy and love, filled with sadness for the girl and the woman I’d once been (rather than of shame and bitterness, as they had often come before).

I won’t spend much time now on the specifics of what I saw there–it’s nothing new, nothing I haven’t known about or written extensively on before by now.

What is important here is the journey I made through this memorial of my self, and how I felt and reacted to what was there.


After maybe 20 minutes in this process, I finally made it to the last display case, to the present moment and the end of the museum.

When I had arrived at the end of the final exhibit, all of a sudden the dark wing of the temple containing this museum lit up, and was now brightly lit with hundreds of candles and torches illuminating the beautifully decorated walls.

And now I could see up to the ceiling of this cathedral, where uncovered windows showed the brilliant, burning stars shining down into my corner of the cosmos.

It was very late, maybe 4 or 5am – an entire night had passed during my descent into my own personal underworld.

It felt like a signal that my descent was over. And I felt I was being honored with this beautiful display for having made it through.

I knew that soon, the sun would be rising outside, and that my time in this temple of the past was near its end. I felt I was being asked, “Do you have anything you would like to say before you leave here?”

And before I could think twice, I heard myself answer, “Thank you.”


And then immediately, another part of me responded with something like, “Really?? Thank you? Are you kidding me?”

“Well, yeah…” I shyly responded. Then, a little more surely, “I guess I am grateful – it got me here, didn’t it? It made me who I am. And I’m proud of that.”

Though I was still tearful as I lay there on the table in Angelic’s office (the “real,” physical me) had to smile a little: it was true. I was grateful. And yes, I was proud. I had made it. I had made it through to the other side of all that.

And though it seemed enough to simply have survived, what’s more, I knew that one day, I would say that I had triumphed.

At that point, I looked down at my wrist, and I saw some markings appear there.

They were the two tattoos that I have wanted to get, the infinity symbol on my left wrist, and a small black skull on my right, both drawn in the style of the Smith-Waite tarot.

And I remembered what I had recently heard Clarissa Pinkola Estés say about the scars that people like me carried:

“It’s never going to look like you never suffered. Although I say, be proud of your scars. It has everything to do with your strength and what you’ve endured. It’s a map, so to speak, a treasure map to the self, the deepest self.”

And then I heard a voice say, “You have nothing to be ashamed of anymore. You can leave all of that behind. It was never truly yours to carry in the first place.”

I acknowledged this was true. This is a major part of what the inner work of the last year has shown me: most of the shame I carried came from things which had been done to me, not by me. 

I carried the shame of my abusers, of my attackers, and those who had committed crimes against me.

I carried the burden of guilt that properly belong to those who had hurt me, the mother who hated me, the father who had refused to protect me from harm. 

I had created this structure of lies about myself and my life, all resting upon this false foundation: “It’s because you deserved it. If you had simply been better, they wouldn’t have ‘had’ to…”

Well, now I know better. Now I knew that the failings were not mine. I did not bear the responsibility, and I could not account for these sins of theirs.


The voice spoke again.

“There is nothing to fear here. You don’t have to be afraid any longer. You may return whenever you want to, and you will find only peace here.”


And with that, I was ready.

With little Beso next to me, I stepped outside the temple door into the early morning light.

The sun had not come fully over the horizon yet, but the sky was becoming lighter with each passing second.

Beso and I walked down the rear temple stairs, both of us now dressed in new clothes: he was in an adorable little white doggie tuxedo with a gold leash, while I now stood in a flowing floor length chiffon gown with a light white cape, all with gold details, as well as a golden necklace decorated with pearls, and similarly made matching earrings.

After walking down the stars, we stepped onto a garden path that first led to a fountain filled with flowing water.

I walked to it, and dipped my hands into the running water and brought it to my face, and with a white towel, cleansed myself before continuing down the garden trail.

It was here that I stepped onto what was now a grass-covered path with my bare feet. The sun was shining down on the earth, and the grass felt both warmed by the sun while retaining a certain earthy coolness belonging to the morning.

From there on, I walked barefoot on the grass with little Beso by my side until I reached a throne, also gold and ivory and decorated with pearls to match the clothes I was already wearing.

I sat down, and it was here that my gold and white crown appeared on my head.

I had made it.

I was now sovereign, ruler of my own kingdom.

I had learned how to belong to myself, discovered my own agency, and the right and ability to make decisions that would serve me and all that I oversaw.


Once I had been crowned and was comfortably seated on my throne, people began to arrive.

They were all dressed mostly in white, along with the addition of one bright primary color as an accessory (like a royal blue belt or a red scarf).

When all of the guests had arrived for the celebration we were to have, it made for a very vibrantly colorful and energetic garden party.

As they arrived, the guests spoke to me.

They welcome me to my kingdom.

They told me, “You made it.”

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We’re so glad you’re finally here.”

They were all so happy to see me.

And it turns out they had expected me, had wanted to spend time with me, had been waiting just for me.

So when everyone arrived, we had our celebration.

It was a very peaceful, calm and relaxed garden lunch. We sat at a table set in the grass, covered in white linen with gold place settings, and ate healthy fruit and salads, drinking only water, juice and green tea.

The conversation lasted long into the afternoon, and nothing very much in particular happened. We just laughed and smiled and talked and enjoyed each other’s company.

Around this point, I left the perspective of being in my own body within the vision, and the scene seemed to zoom out until I could see the entire globe, spinning slowly in the void of space. 

As it spun, day shifted into night and then again to day and back again, and the people continued on, with no interruption to the rhythm of their peaceful daily happenings. All was calm, all continued with grace, and a gentle and reassuring order prevailed.

I saw myself again (this time, in a new change of clothes–a white button down shirt and pants) go on to interact with new people, and take on the role of a healer and helper.

And this, too, like day and night, alternated in a graceful rhythm, becoming part of the pattern of a new life of purpose and contentment.

Personal Mythology: Beauty and the Beast

Journal Date: February 2, 2021

In contrast to the first myth I wrote about, my second (and earlier one) is much more fun. 

As a little girl, my favorite movie was Beauty and the Beast. I was literally obsessed with Belle (though I wouldn’t call her my favorite princess– for the purpose of this exercise, let’s say favorite Disney “archetype”).

To go back and look at this story and the character of Belle is both endearing and amusing to me.

I hadn’t thought about this movie or how much I loved it in years, maybe decades, even.

So it was pretty amazing to me to discover that my adult self had turned out to be so similar to this character I’d admired so much as a child.

Here are some examples of the similarities that I had a good laugh about while I listened to the song called Belle from the original movie:

LYRICSCOMMENTARY
[BELLE]
There goes the baker with his tray, like always
The same old bread and rolls to sell
Every morning just the same
Since the morning that we came
To this poor provincial town
Me complaining about living in Eastvale, or about “normal” day-to-day life in general.
[TOWNSFOLK]
Look there she goes, that girl is strange, no question
Dazed and distracted, can’t you tell?
Never part of any crowd’
Cause her head’s up on some cloud
No denying she’s a funny girl, that Belle
Accurate. This is how I live my life, with my head in a book.
Look there she goes, that girl is so peculiar
I wonder if she’s feeling well
With a dreamy, far-off look
And her nose stuck in a book
What a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle
How often have I heard people wonder why I’m so different from everyone else?
Now it’s no wonder that her name means “Beauty”
Her looks have got no parallel
But behind that fair façade
I’m afraid she’s rather odd
Very diff’rent from the rest of us is Belle
It’s true. People usually do seem to perceive me this way.
Look there she goes
The girl is strange but special
A most peculiar mademoiselle!
It’s a pity and a sin
She doesn’t quite fit in
‘Cause she really is a funny girl
A beauty but a funny girl
She really is a funny girl
That Belle!
Seems to be the general consensus about me…

It might seem a little silly at first, but I think there’s something to this idea of having a personal myth that your soul wants to follow. 

I’m tempted to say that the movie had a big influence on me, but in reality, I think it may have been the other way around. I think I was so drawn to it because there was something in me that recognized itself this story.

“Stories like that are the stories that lead us to developing our intuition, and using it, and saying, ‘This is right, this is my life, this is the way it should be,” Estés says. “Think of the story or movie or book or dream that you’re really taken with: it’s because it resonates to the deepest symbols within your own psyche.”

So maybe this is it. Maybe I don’t need to go back and make all these revisions to the later myths of mine, because I had it right with the first and original one I chose as a little girl to begin with.

And believe it or not, Belle does share some essential characteristics with characters like Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina.

At the root of their personalities is the tendency to be a dreamer, and a certain dissatisfaction with living a quotidian existence they are told they are supposed to want.

They all dare to go against conventions and imagine something more for themselves.

Maybe the only difference is, Belle stays true to herself, and true to her integrity. She’s different in that she has faith that she can have what she desires without violating her principles. 

Her compassionate and loving nature does not become a liability, but is in fact the essential key to achieving her dreams.

Most importantly, she belongs to herself. She honors herself and makes choices for herself that reflect that.

As an example, she doesn’t give in and marry Gaston, no matter what a prize he seems to be in the eyes of the townspeople. 

She doesn’t back down and diminish who she is or compromise her values, no matter how weird or strange anyone else thinks she is.

Her peculiarities do, in fact, make her ill-suited to achieving the kind of success the townspeople would recognize.

However, it is these very same qualities that make her the only one who is capable of lifting the curse put on the prince by the witch and restoring harmony and beauty to the castle. 

It is through her stubborn desires and continued capacity to dream and love that she is able to achieve her dreams and bring healing to where it is needed most.


So that’s it.

That’s the new ending to my story.

This is how I will reclaim my original guiding mythology.

May I find that I too be able to live like Belle, may I always remember it is truly possible to create what I dream of.

And the best part?

I don’t have to change or alter anything about me.

I just have to let the true self emerge.

That is enough.

Maybe it always has been.

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.

Entering the Hermes Field

Journal Date: Saturday, January 2, 2021

I remember early on into the first month or so of quarantine– I was reading a book on alchemy, and it was describing the process of “entering the Hermes field,” and how to use this in your own spiritual development and awakening.

In the book, the author creatively describes a meeting with Hermes, and suggests that you can also directly communicate with him, and ask for guidance.

So I decided to try it.

“Hermes, I’m ready– show me my shadow. I’m ready to see the truth.”

I was answered almost immediately, that same night.

It was a lot– it felt very intense. So much so that I had to modify my request a little bit: “I’m ready, but please just show me what I can handle right now. Not more, and not less, just exactly what I am capable of handling at any given moment.”

Honestly, I was scared.

I was coming up against things I’d been running from for a lifetime.

And it hurt. It was painful to see what was there to be seen.

Painful, but not exactly surprising.

I already knew I was pretty messed up.

The surprise came just a few months into it, though, when the things I was seeing shifted from how I was wrong, and started to reveal to me how others needed to be held accountable.

This was where it started to get really difficult. 

I was used to being the one to blame. My inner critic was so easy to activate, it was already so natural for me to punish myself.

But what do I do when I have to hold other people accountable?

That was beyond terrifying to me.

How could I begin to come to terms with the vast amount of mistreatment from all those people I felt so powerless with?

This was the hardest thing: to come to terms with my family and how they had treated me.

I’d never really allowed myself to consider this.

I’d rather throw myself under the bus, and punish myself, than face the truth of what my family was.


I resisted.

But it soon became undeniable.

There was something deeply wrong with the narrative I’d been sold about who I was, and why they acted as they did toward me.

The narrative was coming undone, even though I’d done my best for 32 years to hold the bundles of lies and patchwork logic together.

I’d changed myself to fit their demands.

I’d sinned just to earn a place in their hell.

And it was all starting to unravel itself before my eyes.

There was nothing I could do to stop it now.

I could look away, but the thread had been pulled loose, and was now coming undone through a life of its own.

This Train is Leaving the Station

Journal Date: May 5, 2020

I woke up early this morning to take my little puppy Beso outside before the sun rose.

Coming back inside, I gave him a snack and lay down to rest more on the living room couch while he played with his toys.

Soon, I found myself in the middle of a terrible dream.

In this dream, I was being rejected, shamed and abandoned by everyone in my life. I felt wildly out of control, unable to control my body or my reactions to anything around me. I was sure that I had been drugged, I had a vague memory of taking a pill I had been offered earlier in the dream by my mother.

I tried to tell the others in my dream it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t control my self, it was this drug I had taken that was making me act intoxicated, that the way they saw me wasn’t reflective of who I really was, but no one believed me, and left me alone with my shame anyway.

Soon I came to realize I was on a train, which continually traveled between two stations, an old station and a more modern one in a new town. Sometimes I would get off the train and explore the land surrounding each station, but inevitably I would find myself back on the train as it continued its ceaseless journey from one point to the other.

On one trip back to the old town station, I saw a hospital emergency room. I wanted to rush off the train and see if they could give me a drug test or something to prove the cause of my condition. But I could never stay off the train long enough, I always came back sooner than I would have wished to commence a new cycle of pain and confusion.

Once back on the train, I re-experienced each abandonment anew. Most times, it was one of my parents which were leaving me after delivering their cold, unequivocal judgements on how I was not worth the trouble to be around. But there were times when even my puppy Beso was taken away from me. It may not seem like much, but each time it happened, I felt my heart implode like a massive black hole in my chest, and I heard myself scream out loud.

This lasted until I was woken up on the couch by my mom. “Are you okay?” she asked. She had heard me scream again and again in my sleep, and was afraid something was wrong.

I finally got up and she brought me water and some aspirin to help with the headache I had woken up with.

“Look at Beso,” she said, pointing to my dog laying under the couch beneath me. “Even though you were making so much noise he never left you. He’s so loyal.”

I avoided thinking about the dream until later in the afternoon. I had fallen asleep again for a nap, and on waking up, the meaning of the earlier dream came to me all at once.

The drug I had been given was my trauma, my childhood experience and conditioning which told me I was and would never be good enough.

Being high (or in this case, low) on this drug had me acting in ways I felt I couldn’t control. I was reactive, reckless, hurting myself and others, watching this bitter pill create the wreckage of my life I knew, feared, and experienced over and over again.

There was still that part of me that wanted to get off at the old train station, to go back further into my past, to find some authority that would look at me and give me a diagnosis that would shift the blame onto anything outside of me. I wanted someone to say to me, “It’s the drugs talking. It’s this tough pill of trauma you’ve been hooked on for so long. We understand it’s not your fault.”

But no doctor could ever give me that script. Even if they did, few would believe me and even less would care.

I could feel all of the shame and fear and sense of “stuckness” rising up within me as I reflected on the dream and what it could mean for me.

Then I remembered, the train always kept moving. The train was always taking me forward, trying to open its doors for me onto new frontiers, but I had such a hard time feeling ready to make roots in this foreign territory, I was obsessed with proving something about who I was and who should be held responsible for all the consequences that came of that that I found myself again and again on that same train “home”.

Now I could see that when those doors opened again, I needed to plant my flag in that new space and declare the future my true home.

The past is a desolate place, a withered landscape, a war-torn country I could never trust as my own. In some ways I think that maybe I never had a home, I felt as if I’d been born at sea, a small ship at sail in dangerous waters. 

I know I can’t go back to where I was, but now I’m prepared to get off this train and build my own home, create my own safe harbor from a pattern I am putting together as I go along. I’m ready to go home, to the future, and leave that train of sadness behind for good.