This blog post is all about how I wrote my first poetry book ‘A Liberated Sheep in a Post Shepherd World’ inspired by the final copy proof landing in my hands this morning!!!
Why I Wrote My First Poetry Book
I love poetry and have always dreamed of the day when I would at last embrace my own book. Poems that I could share with everybody, including my family and friends. The happiness that I feel today is incredible! My confidence and faith, wholly restored. I have been bouncing up and down the street and walking around the supermarket with the silliest looking smile you ever did see! A natural high with a wonderful sense of achievement that on more than a few levels, means the world to me. This book has been such a long time in the making, more than thirty five years to be precise, so why publish now, here in mid-life I hear you ask?
Jung at Heart
I was truly young at heart when I first encountered Jung, whilst reading a book by Freud, in my local library. Intrigued by him I returned to the shelves and chanced upon his memoir, ‘Memories, Dreams, Reflections’ and sat down to read it. Being only fifteen years old meant that I couldn’t take out an adult book so it took a few trips to the library after school to complete reading. Anyhow I did finish it and although much of what I read went over my head I remember feeling captivated. Then as often happens, Jung and I (consciously) parted company for the next thirty years until, aged forty five years, I met him again and abundantly so, after joining a local women’s Dream Group based on Jungian principles.
Why I was first drawn to Clarissa I’ll never know …
I remember entering the shop and pushing back the curtain to find her sitting there, at her table in the back room, smiling. As I approached my thirtieth birthday, I was nervous yet desperate for insight into a life-changing decision I was making. Time backed up the moment she pulled out her Tarot cards, it was like magic being spread around the table. The consultation with Clarissa lasted two hours and I remember feeling amazed by her deeply intuitive, accurate reading of those mystical cards. It was revelatory! I saw her two more times over the next six years. Each time I felt held, in some way contained, by this archetypal witchy looking woman with her large gold earrings. Then, as often is the case, after the crisis had passed I forgot all about her.