“Whether a woman is efficient or brilliant in spheres hitherto deemed masculine, or whether she remains in a traditionally feminine role, modern woman must discriminate and relate to the image of the spirit, while at the same time maintaining her roots in her basic feminine nature — that which receives, nourishes, and gives birth on all levels of being through her awareness of the earth and her ability to bring up the water of life from under the earth. All her true creativeness springs from this.”
— Helen Luke, Jungian, 1904–1995
The pull of my hara, my belly, my sacrum, is strong. When I read these words, the pull intensifies. The darkness grows. Some glimmer of knowing shines.
My real work. Down in. Deep down in. Where dark pools shimmer and eternal springs flow. There is a work here that is not work. Not the way we think of work. It is a returning to the deeper images and symbols that lie in the dark waiting to reveal themselves.
I lie in my bed and feel the pull of the tide wanting to take me out to a place of no destination, no ideas, no thing. It is a place of deep life, before ideas. It is life prior to. I feel a bit like salmon, following this deep call to return to my spawning ground.
Images call to me from below. One, a single flower, with few petals, open to the light, and a single root, feathery and long…
