Women Who Run With Wolves

One of my favorite nights in recent memory started off with a thunderous rainstorm.  I was downstairs playing some mando and my roommate knocked on the window and beckoned me outside.  We must have danced in the rain for a good hour.  I’ve always believed that rain has the capacity to wash away our worries.  And there’s a child-like abandon that accompanies jumping around in puddles and spinning in circles as giant raindrops trickle down your upturned face. 

Then, I went right from dancing in the rain to playing an open mic with one of my friends.  I haven’t played on stage in front of people in years!  I forgot how much the monster inside of me feeds off of that energy.  The wild wolf woman has been awakened!

Recently, I have settled on my idea of what a good fit for a future partner would be:  Someone that I can run with in all of my glory.  Someone who can stand back from me, see me in all of my pain and beauty and love and joy, and look on me in awe.  I need a wolf-runner.  My friend recommended that I read “Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype.”  I have just started the book, so I don’t have much in terms of commentary yet.  However, I do enjoy how the concept of “wild” is not defined as “crazy” or “irresponsible;” It represents an attunement to nature and freedom and individuality.

To me, being a wild woman means crying openly without fear of being called weak.  It means loving deeply without fear of being called soft.  It means paving my own path in life without fear of being called crazy or irresponsible.  It means laughing and loving and swearing and drinking and making music and making love and dancing and having babies and growing old and gardening and making mistakes and singing and taking care of those whom I love…

It also strikes me that there are very few wild women out there to serve as a role model for me.  This society has marginalized women who run with wolves to the brink of extinction!  Where is reverence for strong women?  As I try to navigate my divorce and my resurgence in music and my feelings of love toward others and my career and my travel adventures, I find myself seeking out the strong women in my life.  The landscape over the last 6 months is all new territory for me.  And it’s scary.  And I’m blessed for the women (and the men) in my life who help me up when I stumble.  

A favorite song of mine, by the lovely First Aid Kit, goes like this:

http://youtu.be/UsP2-HwdpOk

Wolf mother, where you been?

You look so worn, so thin

You're a taker, devil's maker

Let me hear you sing, hey ya hey ya

Wolf father, at the door

You don't smile anymore

You're a drifter, shapeshifter

Let me see you run, hey ya hey ya

Holy light, oh, burn the night, oh keep the spirits strong

Watch it grow, child of wolf

Keep holdin' on

When I run through the deep dark forest long after this begun

Where the sun would set, trees were dead and the rivers were none

And I hope for a trace to lead me back home from this place

But there was no sound, there was only me and my disgrace

Wayward winds, the voice that sings of a forgotten land

See it fall, child of wolf

Lend a mending hand

When I run through the deep dark forest long after this begun

Where the sun would set, trees were dead and the rivers were none

And I hope for a trace to lead me back home from this place

But there was no sound, there was only me and my disgrace

Hey, Hey-Hey, Hey, Hey

Hey, Hey-Hey, Hey, Hey

Hey, Hey-Hey, Hey, Hey

Hey, Hey-Hey, Hey, Ya.