Journey of Love: The Animus Diet

The Animus Diet

Okay, that’s it, I’m putting my fat animus on a post-holiday diet! For too long now he’s been aggressively stuffing me full of sugar and fat and making me feel, well, quite ill, if not tired most of the time. As a student of Jung I simply have to try out this lower inner-man diet. So back to the book shelves I go, to pull out Marion Woodsman’s impressive books that help me study “Feminine Consciousness” in more depth and try to figure out how to curb my invisible partner’s hunger.

In physical terms I don’t have much weight to lose, somewhere around 4.5 kg (10 lb) in order to fit into my jeans more comfortably. I’ve decided, as I usually eat reasonably healthily, that I’m not going to change my diet too much, instead, I’m going to change the way I interact with my “internal man.” Psychologically, however, I know I need to create more of a balance by way of plumping up my skinny feminine self and slimming down my overweight masculine side. When I came across the humorous sketch above, it perfectly illustrated for me how I felt my animus was taking up too much room “on the inside.” Continue reading

Journey of Love: The Fate of the Alchemist

The Fate of the Alchemist

Halloween is the perfect spell for exploring evil visitations and how we unconsciously invite more fear-provoking ghouls into our everyday lives without really knowing or understanding why. In this seasonal blog post I shall be bringing to light the fate of the magician, otherwise known as the witch, healer, or shaman, for the alchemist has many names. To begin with I’ll briefly explore the terms ‘alchemy’ and ‘fate’ before delving into one of Jung’s richest passages that I’ve ever had the good fortune to stumble across.

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The Way of the Poet

The Way of the Poet

I am a poet, a refugee,
alone on the open road.
Not knowing where I am going,
only that I must go.
I hide myself by day,
move quickly across the night.
Running from oppression,
I seek stars along the way.

My legs, tired yet strong,
keep me wandering on.
Yet how will I survive
without a map and a home?
The way of the poet
demands that
the search for sanctuary
is over before it can begin.

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Lost in the Mirror

Lost in the Mirror

In the midst of a terrible rainstorm
as lightning starts to strike,
I pull over and park the car.
I observe a small white mirror
lying diagonally on the road.
It shouldn’t be there I’m thinking.

I just have to pick it up!
So out I go, to wage war with the rain
that lashes like hate in my face.
Again and again,
to where the mirror is lying,
face up, on the black toll road.

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