Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves
Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves
- that knowledge of being HUMAN, in the GOOD sense (I think humans are generally awful as a species) – but how BEAUTIFUL is it that I can even write these words, read these stories?
I could have never been born, never had the chance to breathe or fuck or kiss or dance or eat or swim or SURF or feel love or immerse myself into gorgeous dreamscapes on paper or screen or reality. I could have been an animal other than human – still wonderful but without that extra-special experience of imagination.
How crazy it is to just be SLAMMED with this notion. It makes breathing a joy, just lying here in bed, inhabiting this body, fully present. Feeling ALIVE.
Photo by Noran Bakrie.
- You want to record everything in words and pictures, endlessly
- you scream lovingly when you see your friends
- you dance whenever there is a moment to do so
- you immerse yourself deeply into all written words
- you get sad that there is not enough time to read everything
- you wish for immortality
- you give copious amounts of kisses to whoever you deem worthy
- you dress with zest
- no moments of your days are wasted, even the restful ones are purposeful
- dying doesn’t seem like an option
- you eat the foods that sustain your vitality, the ones with life still in them
- you think for yourself and eschew most media
- every moment is an opportunity for creative expression
- you never emulate, you just extract inspiration
- the library is your second home
- people cannot keep up with you
- your brain is firing all synapses
- sex is a jungle of limbs and hair, fire and lips
- trees are meant for climbing, snow is meant for sliding, rain is meant for showering, caves are meant for kissing, forests are made for running, art is meant for devouring, fruit is meant for inhaling, breath is made for laughing, animals are meant for hugging, sun is meant for frolicking, youth is meant for deviancy, elder years are meant for rebellion, school is meant for revolution, travel is meant for drinking in all aspects of living
- you stand proud and rock your body, whatever your size
- you’re an artist
- you run into the ocean whenever you can
- you only eat plants because you respect that animals want to live, too
- you worship yourself instead of a deity
- you engage all your senses at all times
- sleep is a sacred activity
- you prefer experiences to material things
- your thoughts stay positive, despite negative influences
- love is your purpose for living
- you get intoxicated by flowers
- you get high on the scent of the woods
- you say yes way more often than no
- you say no when it feels right
- you don’t put up with anyone’s bullshit
- you show your loved ones you cherish them
- you’re grateful for everything you have
- you choose the high dive
- you run instead of walk, you fight instead of run, you love instead of fight
- seeing music live makes you swoon
- you have parties on rooftops
- wasting time is a criminal offense
- nothing can stop you
- skinny dipping is mandatory
- people call you brash, brazen, wild, zany, fabulous, a dynamo
- your hair is always blowing in the wind
- every moment presents itself as a lesson or a gift
- failure is a myth, there are only set-backs
- you scoff at death
- sharing your life with animals is an honor
- giving birth is the most powerful thing you can do
- your money goes towards experiences and traipsing the globe
- customs people know you by name
- you always choose “dare”
- swimming pools are always open, despite fences
- your symbol is an ankh
- you tell people you love that you love them, constantly
- you can freestyle compliments with great flow and emotion
- your vocabulary is vast and rampant
- people are enraptured with your stories
- you’re constantly told to write a book
- you swim in fountains
- you dance on tables
- you sleep during class because you’ve been too busy living
- you bounce energy back and forth with everyone
- all of your friends are just as playful as you are, because that’s who you attract to yourself
- you don’t give a shit how you look when you dance
- you always chase “first times”
- you have car picnics in the winter
- the beauty everywhere makes your heart palpitate
- grand vistas give you exploding heart syndrome
- you imagine a soundtrack playing at all times because your life would make an epic movie
- you are fascinated by everything
- boredom is a foreign concept
- you have a cause you vigilantly fight for
- you are a fidget because you have pent up energy
- you have to be utterly exhausted in order to sleep (but you usually are exhausted because you never stop moving)
- motorcycles are preferable to bicycles, but bicycles are preferable to cars (unless those cars are convertibles and going awesomely fast).
- people know you’re a supernova with one glace
- you feel like a teenager even if you’re in menopause
- you love being with people, but you adore time on your own just as much, if not more
- you transcend death
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I don’t mean chest-wise (cuz I don’t care) – but just…blargh.
I’ve had a lifetime of teeth issues, and no matter what I eat, I will continue to have issues because of the bombardment my teeth have taken over my life. So I won’t blame fruit, or raw – actually they improved going raw, so there.
Anyway, it was a few weeks of dental appointments, and today I just had enough. I got into a “why me?” mode and said eff it to everything and just binged on kale chips (could be worse…) and sat around watching Sailor Moon and Game of Thrones.
Not really my style. I tend to be a doer, EVEN if I am watching something, I am working on a project of some sort (like my zine that has taken me years – it’s almost done).
Eh, anyway, my point is that even though I get this way at times, I know it’s not going to last. Usually I am upbeat + positive and in a pretty lofty state.
Ever hear that idea that people are afraid of their own power, and that they are more afraid of success than failure? I think I am in that state.
I have this series of books in my head, these amazing characters that I think about all the bloody time – and the idea of writing them scares the crap out of me, because I know they would be epic, and the length and time and care I would need to take in order for them to live up to what I’ve concocted is absolutely daunting.
I have to do it, though. I think about writing sprees all week, when I am working – I feel like when I get home I need to just hunker down and write. But then I get distracted by something – this is the downside of being so fascinated by everything – I am what Barbara Sher calls a “scanner“ – though I do get in states of obsession. When I finally enter that state, I am unstoppable.
I can be obsessed with many things at once – and I get so flustered and baffled at how to do it all that I am overwhelmed, and just end up reading or something. Often I act. This is why I am so in need of work that allows me to be free of a schedule – when not at a typical job, I am constantly working on projects – I don’t feel restrained by time, and so things flow so much more easily. This work needs to be writing! And so, I write, as always. Either here, on paper, fiction, memoirs, letters, little comics, zines, lists – anything. It is constant.
More often in winter is when I get flustered, from a lack of sunlight and lowered spirits. I know how to combat this now and it is why I have continued with this blog instead of giving up like I have in previous years. I just push, now. I think to myself, “Who the hell cares what anyone else thinks? It doesn’t matter if you feel like poo – write about feeling like poo. Do it anyway, any sort of criticism won’t matter tomorrow, or in the grand scheme of things. None of this matters” – and it really doesn’t. One day, everything anyone has ever created will be gone. We will all die. Humanity will disappear. That does not mean that we should not still procreate and make beautiful songs and books and it does not mean we should not treat one another and ourselves and other creatures with immense kindness and respect. And so I say what I want, and I want others to believe in themselves, too.
We are all really good at something, and anything we love, we can do.
I have always envied the people who can obsess over one thing – they tend to be the most amazing, shining examples, the inspiring ones. But there are others who are great at many things and those are the ones I relate to. When I am really into something, I stick to it, too. I have always stuck with writing, drawing, and within the last few years, healthy eating. If I still lived near waves, I would have stuck with surfing – man, do I miss it.
When it comes down to it, the whole reason I want to be healthy is so I can continue to have the energy and confidence (and happiness) to continue, because otherwise, I will just look at the world and think “Why fucking BOTHER?”
But I know why I bother – because this is reality. We are alive, we’re here now, we might as well enjoy the beauty amongst the chaos. There can never be enough beauty.
“Sometimes I get a little sad, and I feel like being alone. Then I talk to my cat about it, and he reminds me I’m James Franco. Then we dance.” — James Franco
But I can’t stop.
I wear an ankh necklace for a reason. And I actually want one tattooed on my wrist. As a reminder that I am NOT immortal, and that my time is finite and I need to make the most of every damn minute I have. I don’t really have time for a “regular” job (but I do try to make the most of my time when I am there, plus I am surrounded by lovely people and masses of knowledge).
So much to do. I know I post about it often, but I really do not understand how anyone can be bored. There is so much to do, see, revel in, taste, smell, drink in, love up, dance upon, swirl in, dive into, fondle, make love to, swim through, feast your eyes on, share with lovers, read, imagine, create.
I get so immersed in things. I read all I can. I want to take part in so many things yet much of what I love doing requires solitude. I don’t go out much anymore and this is going to change. I gotta get out there again and experience real life. Winter is so great for nesting with books and whatnot, but when spring hits I feel renewed and more social. Is it time for me to get amongst my old friends? It’s been about three years that I have been in this modality – I have phases of solitude and massive social behaviour that last a few years at a time.
If I could be immortal, I would be. So many people think it would be a horrid thing. Not me. I want to live as long as possible which is part of my reason for living and eating how I do. Even if our lifespans are getting longer, what is the quality of life for most people living to be really old? Probably not that fantastic. I would rather live a completely badass life and live fewer years than until 120 stuck in a nursing home.
First sign of immortality potion, sign me up.
(I know I can do most of these things anyway)
+ Well first of all, I would write a fuckload of books. Books are my saviour and lifeline and blood and guts.
+ I would want to make films.
+ I’d ride a motorcycle around the world. I’d row across oceans.
+ I’d have a whipsmart band and spew lyrics like a banshee.
+ I would generate the most gorgeous photos I could concoct in my head.
+ I would grow fantastical gardens that take over whole cities.
+ I ‘d have a Pied Piper entourage of dogs.
+ I would have a brood of amazing children who make the world a better place.
+ I’d be the most epic surfer.
+ I’d build a treehouse studio to draw huge beautiful ink portraits.
+ I’d amass a harem of lovers.
+ I would heal as many people and animals as possible.
+ I’d read every beautiful phrase ever written.
+ I’d travel to every country and soak in its luminous qualities.
+ So many countless things I would do. So much I could learn.
Our brains are so endless. We use, what, 10%? I want to fill it up – and I know that is beautifully impossible. And so I could do it forever, filling and filling until I burst – and that would be my moment of death.
Back to the stars. Back to the ocean. Back to the earth. I am already a part of those things, but having a body and having a mind is the most gorgeous gift of all. Don’t take it for granted.
I don’t care about chronology. I am perpetually sixteen.
When you believe you are youthful, you are.
When you feel like a kid, you are. Your brain allows it.
You are what you think.
If you love the world, you stay innocent. If you give yourself to
life, you are living.
Boredom is for old people. You’re not old. You’ve just forgotten.
I seriously don’t think people “get old” – I think they just get tired, nutritionally deficit, and brainwashed.