I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me. – Anaïs Nin

I have always been interested in Jungian psychology. I’ve read quite a bit of Carl Jung over the years, along with some prominent Jungian psychologists and mythologists whose work coincides closely with Jung’s. But there’s one aspect of Jungian psychology that I have always had trouble with: the archetypes and their mythological representations. I understand it. I think archetypes are real, and I think myth can give meaning, or depth, to our experience and help us feel connected to something beyond ourselves. I understand it. But I have—and have always had—a difficult time relating to it.

As I said in a previous post, the difficulty arises, for me, in the externalization of experience. I have an exceedingly difficult time thinking of my inner experience in terms of someone else, of looking at my own feelings or behaviors in terms of a priestess, or a virgin mother, or a wild woman, or an old crone. I also have a difficult time trying to emulate, or mold myself, after a particular personage. This feels somehow contrary to my nature. There is, instead, an impetus in me to do the opposite: to take what is within and create something new.

So, for the sake of creativity, let us give ourselves a bit of latitude for a moment. Let us forget the traditional Jungian approach to archetypes and their mythological representations. Let us resist the impulse to attribute our nurturing side to a mother figure or the softer, sweeter aspects of our femininity to a maiden. Let’s pretend those characters don’t exist. Let us take the archetypes and remove their faces. The narrative and behavioral patterns remain intact. But, they are now devoid of their contents and stand like empty vessels waiting to be filled.

Filled with what? Personal experience. That is, our inner experiences of the feminine, in all of its facets and nuances and complexities. Its transformations and transmutations, its many climates and the ways in which those climates impact how we feel in our own skin, how we experience ourselves. The archetypal or divine feminine, by nature, is many and variegated. Let us assume we can give form to each aspect of that archetypal experience. To articulate a vision that is, at once, who I am and who I want to become, all based on how I experience the feminine within. 

This is a writing exercise. It is meant to be creative. It is meant to help women reconnect with the inner feminine, to “wake up” any life forces that may be hibernating, to reconnect with ourselves in a way that is visionary, active, and engaged. It is meant to talk about the ways in which the inner feminine is sacred to us, is a source of richness and vitality our lives. And if it feels like a source of pain, perhaps, thinking about ways in which embracing the feminine might help us heal that pain. And if the shadow side of any of these archetypes has been getting us into trouble, thinking about ways in which we might keep those impulses in check. 

We’ll call this exercise self-fashioning. The use of images in self-fashioning (like the one above) is not off the table. Self-chosen or self-created images that reflect one’s inner experience can make this exercise more personal and help bring these newly redefined archetypes to life. But there is one rule: no naming. No Mary. No Wise Old Woman. No Maiden or Mystic. Unless that name is unique and self-chosen. Otherwise, we talk about feelings and desires only. What I call, for example, “feeling like a woman” or “wanting to be wanted” other women may—and should—call by other names. This is not only acceptable, it is desirable. The idea is to create a vision of the archetypes that is highly individual, one over which I have ownership and responsibility. These experiences are mine. I am cause and creator. 

In the end, when we reach the Self, we will not assume it is the “highest” or most desirable aspect of the feminine. We will not assume there is a highest or most desirable aspect of the feminine. The Self will be fashioned in and through this collection of writings. It is not a separate entity; it is the whole. Its name is my name. Its face is my face.