Messy, She Wrote
Notes from a Feral Woman
“The feral woman is one who was once in a natural psychic state - that is, in her rightful wild mind - then later was captured by whatever turn of events, thereby becoming overly domesticated and deadened in proper instinct…The feral woman is a woman making her way back. She is learning to wake up, pay attention, stop being naive, uninformed. She takes her life in her own hands.” - Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I have thought and thought about where to begin when it comes to writing, here, to a selective audience. And time and again, I come back to this: I want for me, and for you, whoever you are, to simply know what we know. To be what we are. To see what we see, and just be honest about it. To look ourselves and reality straight in the eye. I want you to move more effortlessly, embodied, unencumbered, without shame. I want your soul and your life to be integrated in a way that sends an energy up your spine when you look around you and inside you, and think,
“Yeah. This.”
Now I sound like a grifter selling you some sort of fix-your-life course. There is no course. There is no fixing. There is little shiny content on this road, much messy, handmade hodge-podgery. There is just acknowledging, together, what was always inside of us to begin with - a knowing. An instinct of where to go next, whether that’s what career to chase down or what to say or not say in the moment of a heated exchange. There is just me, a woman on the outskirts of her own Life Plan In Flames, motioning for you to duck under the fences with me and run. It’s just me, writing notes and folding them into paper airplanes to land in your yard. Leave the ashes. Follow your soul’s nose. You don’t need me to tell you what your soul is sniffing out. You just have to follow the scent.
Long before I made any moves I knew I should have been making, the knowing and the desires sat deeply inside of me somewhere, barely tangible, beyond reach. Like a dream I woke up from but could not for the life of me remember. Uninhabited, an outfit folded up in the closet. Long before I understood how to invite in and then embody what I knew, I sat and thought about embodiment. I sat and watched other women embody. I dreamt about embodiment at night. I read about embodiment. I whispered about embodiment. I fantasized about embodiment.
Eventually, I tiptoed closer to the women I saw who so clearly moved through life unencumbered, not sorry. Sometimes, I typed a small email to them, full of apology, asking if they had any crumbs of insight for me. How did they get there, in that garment of soulful embodiment? Into freedom? Could they hold it for me while I slipped my legs in? Could they zip it up for me? Could they hold my hand while I took my first steps?
Thinking about exploring new terrain and actually exploring new terrain are two very different things, I learned. There is often a moment of no return, and that period of time, once entered, will forge the shit out of you. It will burn you up into the saddest, smallest, singed version of yourself (or so it feels, anyway) and then leave you to wrap up the wounds while you keep limping forward. As you limp, your legs form again. As they form, your stride picks up pace. As you pick up pace, you realize how much is possible. It’s scary. It’s thrilling. And it’s worth every agonizing second.
I’m hoping to spend the next year (or more) sharing with you how I have been running toward something new, different, scary. How it’s changed me. What I’ve learned. In divorce, in motherhood, in leaving things behind for the sake of walking toward something I can’t yet see on the horizon. I want to share more with you about the last year of my life navigating divorce (and beyond) because I see a need for women to be able to connect with others on this path - with questions, answers, solidarity, community. I’m so glad you are here, thank you to each of you who subscribed. I’ll see you in the next email! (Sent out every other Saturday!)
Love,
Jolie
P.S. A note. This first email was sent to all subscribers (free or paying) to give you a slightly better idea of what’s to come (you can also check out my about page for more information on what to expect, as well). The coming twice a month Saturday emails will be released to paid subscribers only. As I get my feet under me navigating Substack and how I will organize my writing, I plan to offer occasional free material in the future to my free subscribers, so don’t be shy and sign up if you’re into it. XOXO