the online magazine about life as a creative process

 

Dance With 'Wild Woman'

 

By Connie Robillard

 

 

     
 

Within the feminine psyche we hold the archetypal image of 'Wild Woman.' It is the wild feminine spirit who dares to dance naked around the campfire. It is that part of ourselves that connects us to our body. With her we are comfortable in our own skins at any age. At times in our lives we experience Wild Woman as our daily companion. At other times it becomes a necessity to enter the inner forest and reclaim her essence. Without her, joy is absent and our energetic creativity is in danger of withering.

By day the wild woman is a princess with flowers in her hair. At night she becomes an animal with eyes that glow in the dark. I have heard her snarl, bare her teeth and howl at the moon. I have watched her smear red menstrual blood on her body to reconnect with the goddess of fertility. Her wild nature brings her equally close to the gentle mother who cradles her baby to her breast and the woman who bites and tares the flesh of the perpetrating animal.

Come with me, deep into the woods, where woman's wild feminine spirit dances. Listen to the stories of our true nature. If you are a woman, listen with your body. If you are a man, listen with your heart.

Walk with me as we follow the women along the path. The trees filter the sunlight creating patterns beneath our feet. White dresses cling to rounded bodies as we move together silently on our way to find Wild Woman.

Come sit with me by the river and warm yourself in the sun. We will swim naked between the reeds, taste the color of green grass and stand together on an island rock.

I will gather wild flowers and weave them in your hair. I will help you make chains of white and purple violets.

The fire is started at dusk with willow branches, birch bark and fragrant apple wood.

Baskets of bread, fruit and containers of cool drinking water are opened and shared.

The drumming begins welcoming all women to the dance. If you are a man watch with the eyes of a father, son, brother…

Some women are celebrating pregnancy, some the end of fertility and some the beginning. Each woman takes her turn with a drum between her legs, tapping to the beat of her heart. The dance begins around the fire. There is no right or wrong way to do this dance, it is the dance of spirit.

The drumming starts gently.

Soft feet pat the earth.
The scent of rose oil and lilies
mingle with the velvet musk
of our female bodies.

At first we notice one another.
Then lost in our internal world,
we dance to our unique rhythm.

The spirit dance gains intensity with each drumbeat.
Arms wave, torsos turn in circling motions.

Bodies twirl, legs kick and hair flies in streaks
of silver lightning.

Eyes reflect the red glow of the fire.
They resemble the eyes of animals that
prowl the depth of darkness.

Breasts and bellies bounce to the music.
Backs shimmer like hot flames

Pulsating bodies quiver, undulate and heave as the dance
builds to a crescendo of passion.

It is here that wild woman is likely to show her teeth,
snarl and howl at the moon.

Bare feet pound the dirt beneath us
into dust.

Time passes without notice

The untamed energy of woman fills the wilderness.

The drumming continues into
into the night, ending somewhere
in the clear, pale light of dawn.


In the morning I put on my white dress. I repack my basket, extinguish the smoldering embers. I sing new songs.

The wild self within has touched my heart. Once again she reminds me who I am. She companions me in the creation of beauty, in the containment of sorrow and she whispers in the ear of my beloved the sigh of ecstasy.

 
     
 

Art by Connie Robillard
 

 

     
 

Connie Robillard is a Certified and Licensed Clinical Mental Health Counselor in Londonderry, New Hampshire. Connie and co-writer / clinician Marcel A. Duclos give trauma healing workshops. Their book, Common Threads – Stories Of Life After Trauma, was published at the end of last year. See website.