Women Who Run with the Wolves

 

Modern psychology does not really cater to the deeper side of woman; it leaves no real explanation for her longings, it does not shine light on her mysteries, it does not allow her time. Estés has spent her life in the belief that the old stories from many cultural traditions can reconnect women with their soul, their wilder nature. She is what is known as a cantadora, a keeper of the old stories. The title of the book came from the author’s study of wolves, whom she realized had much in common with women in their spiritedness, their intuitive and instinctive nature, and their travails. Like wolves, women have been demonized for any sign of wildness and their homelands concreted over; but just as many wild wolf populations have been re-established, it is about time that women regained access to their wild spaces. Women Who Run with the Wolves is, overall, a spectacular work that has left many in its thrall. It has revolutionized many women’s lives in the way that Iron John has for men. With myths and tales for every conceivable aspect of life, to say it is rich is an understatement. We can only really gloss over its contents, but the following couple of stories, abstracted from the book, may give you some idea.

 

Once, in a very harsh place, a hunter was out in his kayak. It was past dark and he had not found anything. He came upon the great spotted rock in the sea, and in the half-light the rock appeared to be full of graceful movement. As he drew closer, he saw a group of stunningly beautiful women, and in his loneliness he felt pangs of love and longing. He saw a sealskin on the edge of the rock and stole it. As the women donned their skins and swam back into their watery home, one of them realized she was without her skin. The man called out to her to “Be my wife, I am lonely” but she said, “I can’t, I am of the Temeqvanek, I live beneath.” But he said this to her: “Be my wife, and in seven summers I’ll give you back your skin, and you can do as you wish.” Relunctantly, the seal woman agreed. They had a much-loved child, Ooruk, whom she taught all the stories about the creatures of the sea that she knew. But after a time her flesh started to dry out, she turned pale and her sight began to darken. The day came when she asked for her skin back. “No,” said the husband—did she want to leave the family motherless and wifeless? In the night Ooruk heard a giant seal calling in the wind, and he followed the call to the water. In the rocks he found a sealskin and, on smelling it, realized it was his mother’s. Taking it to her, she was delighted, and took him with her under the water where she introduced the boy to the great seal and all the others. She regained her color and her health, because she had returned home. She became known as the seal no one could kill, Tanquigcaq, holy one. After a while she had to return the child to land, but when he grew up he was often seen communing with a particular seal near the water.

 

The seal, Estés says, is an old and beautiful symbol of the wild soul. Seals are generally comfortable with humans, but like young or inexperienced women they are sometimes not aware of potential harm or the intentions of others. All of us at some point will experience a “loss of our sealskin,” a robbing of innocence or spirit, a weakening of identity. At the time it always seems horrible or at least difficult, but later you will hear people say that it was the best thing that happened to them, because it clarified who they are and what life is to them. It puts us in touch with deeper things.

The story evokes the duality between the “above-water” world of family and work, and the oceanic world of private thoughts, emotions, and desires. The soul-home cannot be left unvisited for too long or, like the seal woman, our personalities dry up and the body is leached of energy. Many women lose their “soulskin” by giving too much or by being too perfectionistic or ambitious, by constant dissatisfaction, or by lacking the will to do anything about it.

Everyone wants a bit of the modern woman, but there has to be a point where she says “no” and reclaims her soulskin. This might involve anything from a weekend away in the woods, to a night with friends, to setting side an hour a day when no one can ask for anything. Others might not understand it, but in the long term it benefits them as much as you, and you’ll come back refreshed and psychically refueled.

 

Once there was a lonely arctic fisherman who, one day, thought he had hooked a big fish that would stop him having to hunt for a while. He got excited when there was a big pull on the nets, but was shocked when he saw what he’d pulled up: a woman’s skeleton. The woman had been thrown over the cliffs by her father, and she had sunk to the bottom. Appalled at his “catch,” the fisherman tried to throw it back, but the skeleton came to some sort of life and pursued him back to his ice-home.

He took pity on her and cleaned her up and let her rest, before falling asleep himself. During the night she saw a tear coming from his eye, and she drank and drank the tears, so thirsty was she. And in the night she took his heart and used it to make her come alive again, as flesh and blood. A person again, she crawled into his sack with him. Thereafter, the couple were always well fed, thanks to the sea creatures the woman knew when she was at the bottom of the sea.

 

Estés understands the story to be about relationships. When you are single, you look for someone who is loving enough or rich enough so that, like the fisherman, you “won’t have to hunt for a while.” You are just after more life in your life, something enjoyable and fun. However, once you get a good look at what you’ve pulled up (maybe after the first flittery phase),like the fisherman you try to “throw him or her back.” You realize that you’ve got more than you bargained for, that this is getting serious. The other person stops meaning good times to you, they become the skeleton woman—the horror of settling down, mortality, long-term commitment, ups and downs, age, ending of the current life. Yet if you are lucky, the “skeleton” will not accept your rejection but chase you to your home (your limits and insecurities). In time you realize that this being has a lot to offer, attractive even if scary; for some reason you want do something for this person. In return the being gives you abundance, but of things and from sources that you didn’t know existed.

 

The skeleton woman story is about what Estés calls the “life/death/ life” cycle. In modern cultures we are terrified of any sort of death, whereas in older ones everyone was aware that new life came as the companion to death. When we shy away from serious relationships, it is never the other person we can’t face up to, it is the unwillingness to enter into the time-honored cycle. We will not grow in this relationship, but seek another one and perhaps then another, so that we only experience a continual high of “life.” This shrinks the psyche. Every relationship has many endings and beginnings within it, and what to our horror may seem like the final end is much more likely to be a necessary change so that the relationship can renew itself.

A woman, and indeed a man, must become aware of and willingly embrace the life/death/life cycle if they are ever to be in touch with their wild nature. Estés says of the skeleton woman:

 

 

Most people don’t read this book as they normally read. You will find yourself taking in a chapter at a time then going away to ruminate on it. This is how it should be. It seems too big to tackle at first (over 500 pages),but treat it as a family of voices that you listen to one by one. Let it sink in slowly and you will begin to understand why it has inspired so many people, not only women.

A final word. You may be thinking: “If I embrace the wild nature in me, I will turn my world and my family upside down!” Not so, Estés says: Doing this brings more integrity to your personal life and your existence, because you will not be trying to walk around in a disguise, you won’t be afraid of being a creator, a lover, someone who chases after what is right, an intuition truster, a woman truly aware of her power and attuned to nature. All these things are your birthright and nothing to fear.

 

Fostered by immigrant Hungarians near the Great Lakes in Michigan, Estés grew up amid nature and hearing stories from a long non-literate tradition. Her roots are Mexican-Spanish. She has a doctorate in ethno-clinical psychology, or the study of tribes and groups, and is a Jungian psychoanalyst. She is also a renowned poet. The writing of Women Who Run with the Wolves was begun in 1971 and the stories collected from across North America. Other books include The Gift of Story and The Faithful Gardener, which is based on her childhood experiences.