Authors: Clarissa Pincola Estes
One of the most remarkable things about using intuition and the instinctive nature is that it causes a surefooted spontaneity to erupt. Spontaneity doesn't mean being unwise. It is not a “pounce- and-blurt” attribute. Good boundaries are still important. Scheherazade, for instance, had pretty good boundaries. She used her cleverness to please while at the same time positioning herself to
be valued. Being real doesn’t mean being reckless, it means allowing
La voz mitológica
, The Mythological Voice, to speak. One does this by shutting off the ego for a while and letting that which wishes to speak, speak.
In the consensual reality, we all have access to little wild mothers in the flesh. These are women who, as soon as you see them, something in you leaps, and something in you thinks, “MaMa.” You take one look and think, “I am her progeny, I am her child, she is my mother, my grandmother.” In the case of
un hombre
con
pechos
—figuratively, a man with breasts—you might think, “Oh grandfather” or “Oh my brother, my friend.” You just know that this man is nurturing. (Paradoxically they are strongly masculine and strongly feminine at the same time. They are like fairy godmother, like mentor, like the mother you never had, or did not have long enough; that is an
un hombre con pechos
.)
31
All these human beings could be called little wild mothers. Usually everyone has at least one. If we are lucky, throughout a lifetime we will have several. You are usually grown or at least in your late adolescence by the time you meet them. They are vastly different from the too-good mother. The little wild mothers guide you, burst with pride over your accomplishments. They are critical of blockages and mistaken notions in and around your creative, sensual, spiritual, and intellectual life.
Their purpose is to help you, to care about your art, and to reattach you to the wildish instincts, and to elicit your original best. They guide the restoration of the intuitive life. And they are thrilled when you make contact with the doll, proud when you find the Baba Yaga, and rejoicing when they see you coming back with the fiery skull held out before you.
We have seen that to remain a dummling and too-sweet is dangerous. But perhaps you still are not convinced; perhaps you're thinking, “Oh lordy, who wants to be like Vasalisa?’ And I'm telling you, you do. You want to be like her, accomplish what she has accomplished, and follow the trail she has left behind, for it is the way of retaining and developing your soul. The Wild Woman is the one who dares, who creates, and who destroys. She is the primitive and inventing soul that makes all creative acts and arts possible.
She creates a forest around us and we begin to deal with life from
that
fresh and original perspective.
So, here at the end of the re-setting of initiation into the femi- psyche, we have a young woman with formidable experiences who has learned to follow her knowing. She has endured through
all the tasks to a full initiation. The crown is hers. Perhaps recognizing intuition is the easier of the tasks, but holding it in consciousnessand letting live what can live, and letting die what must
die, is by far the more strenuous, yet so satisfying aim.
Baba
Yaga is the same as Mother Nyx, the mother of the world, another Life/Death/Life Goddess. The Life/Death/Life Goddess is always also a creator Goddess. She makes, fashions, breathes life into, she is there to receive the soul when the breath has run out Following her footprints, we
endeavor to learn to let be born what must be born
, whether all the right people are there or not. Nature does not ask permission. Blossom and birth whenever you feel Iike it As adults we need little permission but rather more engendering, much more encouraging of the wild cycles, much more ori
gi
nal
vision.
To
let things die
is the theme at the end of the tale. Vasalisa has
learned well.
Does she collapse into a fit of high-pitched shrieking
as the
skull burns into the malicious ones? No. What must die
, dies.
How does one
make such a decision? One knows.
La Que Sabe
knows. Ask
within for her advice. She is the Mother of the Ages. Nothing
surprises
her. She has seen it all. For most women, to let die
is not
against their natures, it is only against their training. This can
be reversed.
We all know in
los ovarios
when it is time for life, when
it is time for
death. We might try to fool ourselves for various
reasons,
but
we
know.
By
the
light of the fiery skull, we know.
CHAPTER 4
The Mate: Union
With the Other
Hymn for the Wild Man: Manawee
If women want men to know them, really know them, they have to teach them some of the deep knowing. Some women say they are tired, that they already ha
ve done too much in this area. I
humbly suggest they have been trying to teach a man who does not care to learn. Most men want to know, want to learn. When men show that willingness, then is the time to reveal things; not just because, but because another soul has asked. You will see. So, here are some of the things which will make it much easier for a man to understand, for him to meet a woman halfway; here is a language, our language.
In mythos, as in life, there is no doubt that the Wild Man seeks his own down-under-the-earth bride. In tales among the Celts, there are famous pairs of Wild Gods who love one another so. They often live under a lake where they are the protectors of the underlife and the underworld. From Babylonian mythos, the cedar-thighed Inanna calls to her lover, The Bull Plow, “Come cover me with your wildness.’’ In modem times, even now in the upper Midwest, the Mother and Father of God are still said to roll about in their spring bed, making thunder.
Similarly, there is no one a wildish woman loves better than a mate who can be her equal. Yet, over and over perhaps since the beginning of infinity, those who would be her mate are not quite
sure they comprehend her true nature. What does a woman truly desire? This is an ancient question, a soulful riddle about the wildish and mysterious nature which all women possess. While the hag in Chaucer’s “The Wife of Bath” croaked out that the answer to this question was that women wished to have sovereignty over their own lives, and this is indeed an irrevocable fact, there is . yet another and equally powerful truth which answers this question as well.
Here is a story that replies to the age-old question about women’s true nature. Those who endeavor in the ways and means shown in the story shall be lover and mate to the wildish woman forever. Long ago Miss V. B. Washington gifted me with a little African- American story that I have amplified into a literary story here I call Manawee.
Manawee
There was a man
who came to court two sisters who were twins. But their father said, “You may not have them in marriage until or unless you can guess their names.” Manawee guessed and guessed, but he could not guess the names of the sisters. The young women’s father shook his head and sent Manawee away time after time.
One day Manawee took his little dog with him on a guessing visit, and the dog saw that one sister was prettier than the other and the other sister was sweeter than the other. Though neither sister possessed all virtues, the little dog liked them very much, for they gave him treats and smiled into his eyes.
Manawee failed to guess the names of the young women again that day and trudged home. But the little dog ran back to the hut of the young women. There he poked his ear under one of the side walls and heard the women giggling about how handsome and manly Manawee was. The sisters, as they spoke, called each other by name and the little dog heard, and ran as fast as he could back to his master to tell him.
But on the way, a lion had left a big bone with meat on it near
the path, and the tiny dog smelled it immediately, and without another thought he veered off into the brush dragging the bone. There, he happily licked and snapped at the bone till all the flavor was gone. Oh! the tiny dog suddenly remembered the forgotten task, but unfortunately, he had also forgotten the names of the young women as well.
So back he ran to the twin sisters’ hut a second time, and this time it was night, and the young women were oiling each other’s arms and legs and readying themselves as though for a celebration. Again the little dog heard them call each other by name. He hopped up in the air in a fit of delight, and was racing back down the path to the hut of Manawee when from the brush came the smell of fresh nutmeg.
Now there was nothing the little dog loved more than nutmeg. So he took a quick turn off the path and sped to where a lovely kumquat pie sat cooling on a log. Well, soon the pie was all gone, and the little dog had lovely nutmeg breath. As he trotted home with a very full belly, he tried to think of the young women’s names, but again, he had forgotten them.
So finally the little dog raced back to the sisters’ hut again, and this time the sisters were readying themselves to be wed. “Oh no!” thought the little dog, “there is hardly time left.” And when the sisters called each other by name, the little dog put the names into his mind and sped away, absolutely and resolutely determined that nothing would stop him from delivering the precious two names to Manawee right away.
The little log spied some small fresh kill on the trail, but ignored it and vaulted over it. The little dog, for a moment, thought he smelled a curl of nutmeg on the air, but he ignored it and instead ran and ran toward home and his master. But the little dog did not plan for a dark stranger to leap out of the bush and grab him by the neck and shake him so hard his tail almost fell off.
For that is what happened, and all the while the stranger shouted, “Tell me those names! What are the names of the young women so I may win them.”
The little dog thought he himself would faint from the tight fist about his neck, but he fought bravely. He growled, he scratched, he kicked, and finally bit the giant stranger between the fingers, and the little dog's teeth stung like wasps. The stranger bellowed like a water buffalo, but the little dog would not let go. The stranger ran off into the bush with the little dog dangling from his hand.
“Let go, let go,
let go of me, little dog, and i
will let go of you,” pleaded the stranger. And the little dog snarled between its teeth, “Do not come back or you won’t see morning ever again.” And so the stranger escaped into the bush, moaning and holding his hand as he ran. And the little dog proceeded to half hobble and half run down the path to Manawee.
Even though his pelt was bloody and his jaws ached, the names of the young women were clear in his mind, and he limped up to Manawee beaming. Manawee gently washed the little dog’s wounds, and the little dog told him the whole story and the two names of the young women as well. Manawee raced back to the village of the young women with the little dog on his shoulders riding high, the dog’s ears flying like two horse tails.
When Manawee reached the father with the names of his daughters, the twin sisters received Manawee completely dressed to journey with him; they had been waiting for him all along. That is how Manawee won two of the most beautiful maidens of the riverland. And all four, the sisters, Manawee, and the little dog, lived in peace together for a long time to come.
Krik
Krak Krout, now this story’s out.
Krik
Krak Krun, now this story’s done.
1
The Dual Nature of Women
With folk stories, as with dreams, we can understand their contents subjectively, all the symbols portraying aspects of a single person’s psyche, but we can also understand tales objectively, as they relate to conditions and relations in the outer world. Here let us talk about the Manawee tale more in terms of relationship between a woman and her mate, keeping in mind that many times “as it is without, it is also within.”
This story unravels an old, old secret about women, and it is this: to win the wildish woman’s heart, a mate would understand
her natural duality through and through. Although we could understand the two women in the tale ethnologically as brides-to- be in a polygamous culture, from an archetypal perspective, this story speaks about the mystery of two powerful feminine forces within a single woman.
The Manawee story contains all the essential facts for being close to the wildish woman. Manawee, through his faithful dog, guesses the two names, the two natures of the feminine. He cannot win unless he solves the mystery. And he must use his own instinctual self—as symbolized by the dog—to accomplish it.
Anyone close to a woman is in fact in the presence of two women; an outer being and an interior
criatura
, one who lives in the topside world, one who lives in the world not so easily seeable. The outer being lives by the light of day and is easily observed. She is often pragmatic, acculturated, and very human. The
criatura
, however, often travels to the surface from far away, often appearing and then as quickly disappearing, yet always leaving behind a feeling: something surprising, original, and knowing.
Understanding this dual nature in women sometimes causes men, and even women themselves, to close their eyes and hail heaven for help. The paradox of women’s twin nature is that when one side is more cool in feeling tone, the other side is more hot . When one side is more lingering and rich relationally, the other may be somewhat glacial. Often one side is more happy and elastic, while the other has a longing for “I know not what.” One may be sunny, while the other is bittersweet and wistful. These “two-women-who-are-one” are separate but conjoined elements which combine in the psyche in thousands of ways.
The Power of Two
While each side of a woman’s nature represents a separate entity with different functions and discriminate knowledge, they must, like the brain with its
corpus callosum
, have a knowing or a translation of one another and therefore function as a whole. If a woman hides one side or favors one side too much, she lives a very lopsided life which does not give her access to her entire power. This is not good. It is necessary to develop both sides.
There is much to be learned about the strength of Two when we examine the symbol of twins. Throughout the world since ancient times, twins have been thought to be endowed with supernatural powers. In some cultures, there is an entire discipline devoted to the balancing of the nature of twins, for they are thought to be two entities which share one soul. Even after their deaths, twins are fed, spoken to, given gifts, and sacrifices.
In various African and Carib communities the symbol of twin sisters is said to possess
juju
—the mystical energy of the soul. Therefore it is required that twins be impeccably taken care of lest a bad fate befall the entire community . One precaution from the hoodoo religion of Haiti requires that twins always be fed exactly the same measured portions in order to summarily allay all jealousy between them, but more so, to prevent the wasting away of one of them, for if one dies, so shall the other, and the special soulfulness they bring to the community will be lost.
Likewise, a woman has tremendous powers when the dual aspects of psyche are consciously recognized and beheld as a unit; held together rather than held apart. The power of Two is very strong and neither side of the duality should be neglected. They need be fed equally, for together they bring an uncanny power to the individual.
I once heard a story from an old African-American man in the mid-South. He came out of an alley as I was sitting amidst the graffiti of an inner-city “park.” Some people would call him crazy, for he spoke to anyone and no one. He shuffled along with one finger held out as though to test the wind's direction.
Cuentistas
recognize such persons as having been touched by the gods. In our tradition, we’d call such a man
El bulto
, The Bundle, for souls such as he carry a certain kind of ware and show it to any who will look, anyone who has the eyes to see it and the sense to shelter it.
This particular kindly
El bulto
gave me this story. It is about a certain kind of ancestral transmission. He called the story “One Stick, Two Stick.” “This is the way of the old African kings,” he whispered.
In the story, an old man is dying, and calls his people to his side. He gives a short, sturdy stick to each of his many offspring, wives,
and relatives. “Break the stick,” he instructs them. With some effort, they all snap their sticks in half.
“This is how it is when a soul is alone and without anyone. They can be easily broken.”
The old man next gives each of his kin another stick, and says, “This is how I would like you to live after I pass. Put your sticks together in bundles of twos and threes. Now, break these bundles in half.”
No one can break the sticks when there are two or more in a bundle. The old man smiles. “We are strong when we stand with another soul. When we are with others, we cannot be broken.” Likewise, when both sides of the dual nature are held close together in consciousness, they have tremendous power, and cannot be broken. This is the nature of the psychic duality, of twinning, the two aspects of woman’s personality. By itself the more civilized self is fine... but somehow lonely. By itself, the wildish self is also fine, but wistful for relationship with the other. The loss of women’s psychological, emotional, and spiritual powers comes from separating these two natures from one another and pretending one or the other no longer exists.
This tale can be viewed as being about masculine duality as well as female duality. The Manawee man has his own dual nature: a human nature, and an instinctive nature as symbolized by the dog. His human nature, while sweet and loving, is not enough to win the courtship. It is his dog, a symbol of his instinctual nature, that has the ability to creep near the women and with his keen listening hear their names. It is the dog that learns to overcome superficial seductions and retain the most important knowings. It is Manawee’s dog that has sharp hearing and tenacity, that has the instincts to burrow under walls and to find, to chase, and to retrieve valuable ideas.
As in other fairy tales, masculine' forces can carry Bluebeardlike or murderous Mr. Fox sorts of energy and thereby attempt to demolish the dual nature of women. That sort of suitor cannot tolerate duality and is looking for perfection, for
the one
truth,
the one
immovable, unchangeable
feminina substancia
, feminine substance, embodied in
the one
perfect woman. Ai! If you meet this kind of person, run the other way as fast as you can. It is better
to have a Manawee-type lover both within and without: He is a much better suitor, for he is intensely devoted to the idea of the Two. And the power of the Two is in acting as one integral entity.
So Manawee wishes to touch this most ubiquitous but mysterious combination of soul-life in woman, and he has a sovereignty all of his own. Since he is himself a wildish, natural man, he resonates to and has a taste for the wildish woman.