Memories of my childhood are mixed. While I was brought up in a loving home, I was always somehow rejected by the wider surroundings. I could never fit in – I was always the weird, new kid (we used to move a lot), who didn’t go to church and who’s mom was from a “wrong” country (in a post-war ex Yugoslavia). I had very few friends who were scattered around my hometown, however, at school I was mostly bullied – it went as far as almost being deliberately drowned by the “cool kid” during school vacation or beaten up by another “cool kid” in the town center at midday.
At home I wasn’t lacking love. My parents did the best job they could, however they were also subject to their conditioning, and had biased understanding of what my soul needs in order to thrive, or how to nurture my uniqueness and support my creative expression. For example, as a Manifestor child (see Human Design), I would wander off on my own since very early age. I wouldn’t come home for hours and my parents couldn’t find me. It is understandable that my mother used to freak out from worrying, however, the consequences of repeatedly punishing such behavior, which, although in line with my intrinsic nature, was deemed as unacceptable and irresponsible by my parents, resulted in the oppression to the soul.
Growing up feeling misunderstood and unaccepted, I started to reject my outsider material – and by doing that, I also rejected my uniqueness. I was slowly molding this unique, wild nature into the most appropriate, culturally acceptable form – all in order to fit in. But I never really did. No matter how good I played the role of the “good girl”, it never felt real. Not to me, not to anyone. And I was again the outsider, only this time severely unhappier as it felt like I was rejecting and letting down my soul.
But the soul is indestructible. It patiently awaits until we wake up and call on to her. Reconnecting and reuniting with our soul, with our unique wild nature, with our being – is in line with the natural flow. All we need to do is to accept who we are – accept our uniqueness and slowly nurture it back to life. Then it will be easy for us to catch the river of creation and ride her back to the source.
Below is the excerpt from one of the my “awakening” books, Women Who Run With the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. As is happens with such things – I have had this book in my possession for several years before I was finally ready to pick it up and receive its blessing. It happened after I gave birth to my daughter, confirming I was back on the soul track and strengthening all the flavors of the power of motherhood.
For years, women who carry the mythic life of the Wild Women archetype have silently cried. Wherever their lives wanted to burst forth, someone was there to set the ground so nothing could grow. They felt tortured by all the proscriptions against their natural desires. If they were nature children, they were kept under the roofs. If they were scientists, they were told to be mothers. If they wanted to be mothers, they were told to fit the mold entirely. If they wanted to invent something, they were told to be practical. If they wanted to create, they were told woman’s domestic work is never done. (…) Although the scenarios are endless, one thing remains constant: they were pointed out very early on as “different”, with a negative connotation. In actual fact, they were passionate, individual, inquiring, and in their right instinctive minds. (…)
While the needs of the child’s soul must be balanced with her need for safety and physical care and with carefully examined notions about “civilized behavior”, I always worry for those who are too well behaved: they often have that “faint soul” look in their eyes. Something is not right. A healthy soul shines through the persona on most days and blazes through on others. Where there is gross injury, the soul flees.
Sometimes it drifts or bolts so far away that it takes masterful propitiation to coax it back. A long time must pass before such a soul will trust enough to return, but it can be accomplished. This retrieval requires several ingredients: naked honesty, stamina, tenderness, sweetness, ventilation of rage and humor. Combined, these make a song that calls the soul back home.
Women Who Run With the Wolves
So what does your soul need? What are the basic nutrients that make the unique potion of your song to call the soul back home? They are unique to each women, but they all come from two realms: nature and creativity. The recipe of my potion goes somewhat like this:
- A whole bundle of dancing
- 3 measures of words, parchment and books each (preferably from the worlds beyond fantasy)
- Large portion of good music
- The song and the smell of moisty forest
- A pinch of fresh ocean air
- Pastel colors of the sunset with a touch of sparkly light reflected on the water surface
- Monthly scoop of moonlight on the naked skin
- A few drops of jasmine and lavender for aroma
- My daughters laugh for the secret ingredient
All to be stirred clockwise or counter-clock wise (depending on the day) and allowed enough peace to brew at their own pace
I would like to conclude by a special plea to all my sisters in motherhood. Don’t let your child’s soul be oppressed by anything or anyone. Embrace their unique characters, no matter how quirky or unusual they are. Nurture their little souls and let them surprise you everyday with their creativity. Remember they have their own unique dreams, paths and opinions. Forget all the rules, all the expectations, all the should’ve, could’ve and would’ve. Reconsider what is deemed as “socially unacceptable”- always give your child whatever they need whenever they need it and ignore all the judgmental looks – in the end, all of those are just lost souls crying to get back home.
Unravel Ninja 