At 2 a.m. on March 12th, 2018 I felt a hard kick inside me that woke me up. A rush of liquid flooded between my legs and I thought I had urinated in my sleep. I leapt, as best as a pregnant woman can leap, from bed and rushed into the bathroom. When I got half way to the toilet bloody fluid pooled under my feet. “Is that my Water?” I frantically questioned to the quiet room. No one answered. I panicked. I called out for my husband, but because of my loud snoring that had developed in the months prior, he was wearing earplugs. My heart raced; I began to cry. It was over a month before I was supposed to give birth. I again called for my husband and he finally roused from his slumber. “I think we have a problem, can you come look at this?” I begged. He shuffled into the bathroom and looked awestruck at the floor beneath me. “Is that my Water?” I asked. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and said, “I don’t know. Call the midwife.” The next half an hour or so feels frozen in time. I took a picture of the watery mess and sent it to the midwife who responded that it was indeed my water and that it looked like I was going into labor. The next nine hours I labored at home at the instruction of my midwife who said there was no reason to come into the birth center until I was closer to delivery. She was wrong. Something was wrong. When I was delirious with pain and could no longer speak my husband called the midwife and told her we were coming in. A quick inspection of my cervix revealed a foot. My son was breech. I was rushed to the hospital where our backup doctor offered no consolation. He just exclaimed “Breech!” and a cacophony of medical intervention ensued. I lost all my power at that point and in a timeless vacuum I was prepped for surgery, anesthetized improperly by someone who appeared to be a rookie anesthesiologist—leaving me able to feel the entire procedure, and my baby was cut out of my body as I was given high doses of fentanyl because the doctor realized I could feel everything. I became the Victim during a event where I was supposed to become a Goddess.


The following months I was stricken with horrifying postpartum depression. The mix of the nightmare of my birth experience and the chemical imbalance prevented me from bonding with my son. I was already no stranger to trauma, having been raped in my 20’s and almost dying of a kidney infection in my 30’s—but none of that compared to the shift in reality that Motherhood + Depression had inflicted upon me. It is hard to describe how I felt during those months of mental anguish; I felt completely detached from my body and looked at it as if it was my enemy. The sadness that permeated my entire being made it very hard to focus on my new task at hand.


When a woman experiences trauma in relationship to her femininity, i.e. birth trauma like I encountered—there is a denial of the innate power of her own body and the creative energy that allows her to heal. The accumulation of traumatic experiences of my life, of which the birth of my son was just the latest in a long line of torment, put me into a state of separation. C. T. Crowley (2013), in her dissertation on the Negative Psychological Effects of Medicalized Birth, confirmed my feelings when she expounded that woman who have had the same experience reported they felt disconnected from their bodies during medicalized childbirth and that there was a, “constant undermining of their sense of self and their sense of wholeness” (p. 83). I will admit that I did not feel safe in my body anymore. I feel that this was a result of the victim complex, a bodily trigger to the feelings produced by my experiences. Marion Woodman (1985) explains that women who have had these types of experiences often do not have the ability to heal without some sort of outside intervention, pointing out that, “their souls are dislocated in bodies so wounded that the ego’s willingness in itself is simply not enough” (p. 55). After my labor I could not conceive of what would affix my soul back in my body. Luckily, I was smack-dab in the middle of my studies for a PhD in Depth Psychology and had been attending a nurturing Jungian Psychoanalyst when all of this occurred. With my Psychoanalyst I participated in Sandplay Therapy, a non-verbal practice, using figures in sand to help process through my deep wounding. My studies had also provided me with other tools, such as Expressive Arts Therapy, SoulCollage, and other healing modalities that I used on a regular basis. And finally, a chance encounter with a spiritual practice on the cliffs of a California retreat center offered the final part of the antidote.


For Mother’s Day 2018 my husband gifted me a weekend at the Central Coast’s most famous retreat center, Esalen. Without knowing anything about it, or how it would change my life forever, I chose a workshop entitled “5Rhythms Moon Lodge”. I mainly selected that workshop because it was women-only, and I felt like I needed the safety of that type of space. On the first day when I sat in the huge Dance Yurt perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean I encountered Lucia Horan, a teacher of the Five Rhythms for twenty years, who had just become a new Mom herself. The first couple of hours she taught us about the dance practice explaining that it was based on the two pillars of Non-Judgement and Kindness. She then described the “Five States of Being” of this spiritual dance practice:

1. Flow - where you trust your feet and just be in your body.
2. Staccato - where you release your perceptions of the world and create boundaries on the dance floor.
3. Chaos - where you let the music dance you until it changes you.
4. Lyrical - that space after the breaking open, the other side of the transformation that is likened to the other side of an orgasm.
5. Stillness - the rest and integration where you are in agreement with your own wholeness. (personal communication, August 4, 2018)

After her short lecture we took to the dance floor and through her excellent direction and music choices we were led through a movement voyage using these five states of being. During the Chaos section of the dance, where you let the music dance you until it changes you, we were instructed to dance out something that we were mourning, something that we were worrying about. I let myself go, felt into my birth trauma, allowing myself to experience the emotions I did on that day. I felt sad, and helpless, like a Victim. I also felt into how it would have felt to be more present at my son’s birth. During the Lyrical dancing, I began hearing messages in my mind, speaking of how I needed to help other women who have experienced what I experienced. I saw images of myth unfolding, pathways being laid out before me, had fantasies of how to interact with my son as a loving presence and that same messenger voice telling me I had to go a different direction with my dissertation—toward the mythic exploration of how to recover from trauma. At the end of three hours, during the Stillness part of the dance, I could feel my soul in my body once again and I broke down in tears of bewilderment and joy. The rest of the weekend I was in awe. I felt as though I had discovered some ancient secret. I was able to feel again, I felt on-purpose and I actually wanted to don my new role as Mother. That night I even started to dream once again, something I had not done for months.


When I returned home I launched into cobbling together a personal practice that revolutionized my existence. I began attending 5Rhythms and Ecstatic Dance classes in Los Angeles where I lived, and did teacher training. I dedicated myself to honing my skills in the modalities that helped me unravel my depression, including taking classes on Sandplay Therapy. As I had become a Certified Herbalist years prior, I found the right combination of supplements to heal the chemical imbalance. And I started working on my PhD dissertation—designing a program to help woman transform their lives after trauma. I was finally in the light at the end of the tunnel of despair. I was back in my body, embracing Motherhood, and ready to help others like myself.
​

In January of 2019 my family and I moved to Crestline. I had grown up here in the Mountains. It was as if I was experiencing my own Hero’s Journey—leaving my home of origin, battling with monsters, retrieving the treasure, and finally bringing back what I had found to help my community. I had left the mountains in the 2000’s to get my Master’s of Divinity and work as a Hospital and Prison Chaplain. Wanting to help those in the private sector I returned to school for my PhD. Now that I have put down roots in the land I call home—I am ready to do my work! As I finish my PhD dissertation, I have dedicated my life to helping people transform their lives after trauma. I now have a private practice at Liberation Therapies in Crestline, providing Holistic Therapy: my own unique combination of Pastoral Counseling in the vein of Psychotherapy, Sandplay Therapy, Somatic techniques, Herbalism and Reiki. In August I am starting a 9-week series with another artist called TRANSFORMATION THURSDAY—where we will share fun and creative practices with women who want community and healing. And finally I am starting a monthly class called BREATHE! DANCE! BE! at Bizzyland (next to the Stockade) that helps women get back into their body with ecstatic dance and breath-work. Check out my website for more details. Please feel free to email me or call with any questions. I look forward to meeting you and helping you on your path.
Website: www.revpameladawn.com
Email: [email protected]
Phone: 909.289.7370


References
Crowley, C. T. (2013). Negative psychological effects of medicalized birth. (Doctoral dissertation). Available from Dissertations & Theses @ Pacifica Graduate Institute;
ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. (UMI No. 3645460)
Roth, G. (1997). Sweat your prayers: Movement as spiritual practice. New York, NY: Putnam.
Woodman, M. (1985). The pregnant virgin: A process of psychological transformation. Toronto, ON: Inner City Books.

Medusa’s Blood of Life
            The reason for man’s fear of women’s power is exemplified in another symbol depicted in the myth: blood.  While men are hardwired for aggression and sexual conquest simply from the fact that they are dominated by testosterone, women possess the powers of nurturing and of destruction that breeds creation because of their biology.  The blood in this myth connects Medusa to these biological energies of menstruation and birth.  It was these powers that led to the mystery cults of the ancient world and the recognition of the cycle of life and death that were honored in rites, like those performed in the Eleusinian Mysteries of Ancient Greece.  Baring and Cashford (1991) state “Blood from her veins, on the left side and on the right, was given to Asclepius, god of healing.  With blood from the left he slays, and with blood from the right he heals,” they go on to explain, “The two bloodstreams of life and death. . . returns us to the two snakes of life and death in the Minoan goddess, who is thereby brought into the new order as the dark, paradoxical place from where healing comes” (p. 343).   It is only when we have gone through some sort of disintegration that we have the ability to return to life anew.  This dualistic nature of Medusa’s blood is indicative of that process.  When the old way of being is slain, through an act that is violent to the psyche, we are then regenerated.  The processes in rituals that were performed by ancient cults, in honor of goddesses such as the Minoan snake goddess, drew her followers through this process of death and resurrection on a yearly basis.  “Thus in Medusa the same two powers consisted as in the black goddess Kali of India . . . Both the life and death of all beings, the womb and tomb of the world” (Campbell, 1964, p. 25).  By cutting off Medusa’s head and collecting her blood, two contradictory tales are told.  The first is regarding the fear of the goddess’ ancient power, and the second is the recognition of the psychological process that the goddess assists her followers in conducting.  I believe that these two messages come through on purpose, that the Collective Unconscious worked through poets such as Ovid to convey both the repression and the authority of the feminine at this crux in history.  And it is through these myths that we too can find our own strength.
    
The Shamanic Initiator of Alchemical Transformation
            Apart from the understanding of the repression of women and their power—the Medusa myth offers the modern reader a blueprint for something different: transformation!  It was transformation after all, that was sought when devotees went, “to meet the she-dragon” where,
“the day of death would carry him off” (Homer, ‘Hymn to Apollo’, 1991, trs. Jules Cashford).  In psychological workings a figurative death has always been the first real step towards change.  Exemplified in the spiritual practices of both Alchemy and Shamanism—it is only through this allegorical process that someone can truly become different.
            Alchemy is the ancient practice of transforming the dross into gold; this is an emblematic process where the “dross” is considered the impurities in one’s consciousness, while the gold is the perfected Self at the end of a seven stage process of examining and reforming those impure properties.  The Self, which is being perfected during these operations, is our organizing center that encompasses "the totality of the whole psyche" (von Franz, 1964, p. 161).  In the context of Depth Psychology, one might consider this mechanism of perfecting the Self to be Individuation.  Jung (1959) explained this progression as, “A psychological process of development in which the original propensity to wholeness becomes a conscious happening” (p. 169).  In Alchemy this is done through performing seven specific movements.  In stage 5, known as Fermentation, a figurative death occurs which requires the alchemist to surrender to their fears.  In the Medusa myth, this happens when the person who peers at her is turned to stone.  Bright (2010) points out that, “by staring fear in the face, the experience of being turned to stone accomplishes two feats: it encourages surrender to all that is and it allows stillness and silence to create space in which to regard oneself,” and she concludes that this capitulation leads to “opening the door to the alchemical phase if coagulatio, grounding us and integrating our experience so new birth can occur” (p. 8).  The final stage of alchemy is “Coagulatio,” also known as Coagulation.  In this stage there is a union of the rarified matter and the newly recognized spirit.  Cavalli (2002) explains that Coagulatio “is about integration, a re-membering—a coming back together again after dissolution to join reworked memories or emotions so they deliver something new” (p.146). It is only after the fears are faced and the psychological energies are reworked that a new way of being can be established.  As is typical in esoteric practices and myth, the renewed being takes on a new form.  At the end of the set of operations the alchemist had a magical substance called the Philosopher’s Stone, which I believe was the individuate Self.    Hillman (2005) notes that in the alchemical process there is an expression, petra genetrix, which means “out of the stone a child is born” (p. 65).  Thus, we can look at Medusa turning those who approach her into stone, not as destruction, but a necessary step towards the liberation of Self.  It is the stone that represents our new being.
            Medusa’s own death is representative of this evolution of Self as well.  Here, she becomes the Shaman—the one who shows us the way towards our own deliverance of Self. 
Shamanism is considered to be one of the most ancient forms of spirituality.  Although the word “Shaman” actually came from anthropology, describing a Siberian sect of hoy men, the word is more broadly used today to describe any indigenous practitioner of the sacred.  What characterizes Shamanism is working with the spirit world to perform acts of healing.  Bright (2010) points out Medusa’s shamanic traits: “Her affiliation with snakes, a chthonic symbol, emphasizes her connection to the Underworld, and signify her role as a psychopomp, an escort for the dead.” Bright goes on to say, “Her ultimate beheading lends itself to symbolic dismemberment, a common event for initiates before being reborn as a shaman in a new body” (p. 8).  As someone who studied this religious form in great detail during my seminary education, this aspect of Medusa’s myth is the most intriguing to me.  I studied with the American anthropologist, Hank Wesselman, Ph.D., who became a shamanic practitioner after working with various indigenous tribes.  During my work with him I experience several dismemberments, first in journeywork where I visualized being torn apart in the spirit world during a mediation; then deconstruction occurred in the physical realm while receiving three separate life-saving kidney surgeries.  I have since gone through this process again, when only two months ago I had complications in my pregnancy and had to have an emergency cesarean to birth my child.  At each turn, the act of dismemberment created in me a new sense of Self.  Bright (2010) believes that “in the end, Medusa yielded to Perseus’ sword of her own free will as a final intentional act of strength and surrender,” and adds, “in choosing death, she was granted a new life . . . .She was reborn into her true calling as a goddess and a shaman” (p. 9).  This is the ultimate lesson which I believe Medusa asks of us.  Much like those who become Shamans in any culture—there is a conscious decision to be figuratively killed by the gods.  It is only through this initiation process that we can become who we were meant to be.  von Franz (1988) speaks of the initiatory process, “He to whom such a content becomes conscious through experience is forever united with the impersonal center; it is a transforming event which remains unforgettably with the individual” (p. 182).  I believe that it takes a severe and sometimes painful act in order to revolutionize your life.  If we do not surrender to this event, change cannot occur.  Medusa was not only transformed into a monster, but she was then beheaded; two unique deaths happen to her in this myth.  Yet, it is through those transmutations that she finds her power and importance, and it is through these changes that she calls to us through time and space to be willing to surrender to our own deaths. 
​
What Does that Mean for the Modern Woman:  Bringing it all Together
            Myths can be perplexing and their symbolism can be hard to dismantle and apply to our lives.  One may find it difficult to understand what the Medusa legend is trying to communicate underneath the snakes, and blood, and beheading.  I believe that there is a profound truth behind the serpents in the Medusa myth—a revelation that has a deeper meaning and call to action for the modern woman.  Women must first understand that they are powerful!  As I described at the beginning of this paper, many of the particulars in this story indicate it is about the stripping away of the natural divine power of women. After thousands of years of repression, it continues to be hard for women to stand in their own authority.  The first thing that happens to Medusa is she is transmogrified into a gorgon with serpentine hair after being raped.  Although this does reinforce the current patriarchal climate, breeding fear in women who honor their own beauty and live without shame, it also offers a solution.  At first glance this transformation appears to be a punishment, but in actuality I believe it was a way for Medusa to gain a sense of safety.  Instead of allowing the patriarchy to hinder the psyche, rise up with a serpentine fierceness.  Medusa encourages women to protect themselves by claiming their supreme energies of healing and radical change.  The serpentine goddess emboldens women to be fearless and not hide their power because it is different than what is patriarchal society proposes as authentic. 
            In the second part of the myth Medusa turns those who advance upon her into stone and is eventually killed by dismemberment.  Neumann (1955) explained that “The Gorgon is the counterpart of the life womb; she is the womb of death or the night sun” (p. 166).  It is this womb of death that is so important to Medusa’s wisdom, for she invites us to embrace change.  As seen in the alchemical and shamanic powers of this goddess, there is a process we must enact in order to go through a metamorphosis.  Perseus using the mirror to slay Medusa indicates that we must examine what hinders us.  As Baring and Cashford (1991) point out, “Reflection — is thereby suggested as the way to face and master the object without; and the outer object of fear is then still further suggested as being ultimately a fear within” (p. 342).  Medusa invites us to first face our fears, regardless of if it is something external or internal of which we are afraid.  The final step is then utilizing the new wisdom to fully give in to the death that will happen as a result.
 
            As Cixous (1976) reminds us, “You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her.  And she’s not deadly.  She’s beautiful and she’s laughing.”  By looking at her directly, we are able to see the importance in this myth from a psychological perspective.  Not only does Medusa reveal the dark side of men’s fear—but she also offers an opportunity for women to boldly embrace their authentic and unique sovereignty.  I believe that I was attracted to this myth years ago because I needed to regain my power.  Having experienced several dark nights of the soul, I had become trapped in a patriarchal view of my power.  As woman do on a regular basis, I feared transformation.  By examining this myth I see why I was able to go through so many intense transitions in my life.  It is because of this that I invite other woman to take a closer look at their own lives and the tragedies that may have befallen them.  Although Medusa’s story may often be perceived in a negative way, I believe that by digging down to its roots, something transformative is revealed.  Her mystic serpentine origins divulge not only the repression of the divine feminine, but also its innate power; and behind Medusa’s blood and snakes is a powerful shaman, alchemist and healer who invites us to make the necessary changes in our own lives to be all we can become.

REFERENCES
 
Barring A. & Cashford J. (1991). The myth of the goddess: Evolution of an image.  London,         England: ARKANA Penguin Books.

Bright, B. (2010). Facing Medusa: Alchemical transformation through the power of surrender.     
            Depth Insights.  Retrieved from http://www.depthinsights.com/pdfs/
Facing_Medusa_Alchemical_Surrender-BBright-052010.pdf

Cavalli, T. F. (2002).  Alchemical psychology: Old recipes for living in a new world.  New York: Tarcher/Putnam.

Cixous, H. (1976, Summer). The laugh of the Medusa. (K. & P. Cohen, Trans.). Signs, Vol.1, 
            No. 4, 875-893.

Hillman, J. (2016). Mythic figures.  Thompson, CT: Spring Publications, Inc.

Jung, C. G. (1959).  Collected works of C. G. Jung, volume 9 (part 2): Aion: Researches into the phenomenology of self. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Neumann, E. (1955).  The great mother: An analysis of the archetype.  Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Ovid (2004).  Metamorphoses. (Raeburn, D. Trans.). London, UK: Penguin Books.
​
von Franz, M.L. (1964).  The process of individuation. In C. G. Jung (Ed.), Man and his symbols (pp. 158-229). Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, Inc.

von Franz, M.L. (1988).  The way of the dream.  Toronto, Canada: Windrose. 
​

​The Truth Behind the Serpents: 
Repression and Power in the Medusa Myth

“You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her.  And she’s not deadly.  She’s beautiful and she’s laughing.”
-Cixous, H., The Laugh of Medusa (1976)

            The importance of looking at myth from a psychological perspective is explained by archetypal psychologist James Hillman (2016) when he says that “psychology shows myths in modern dress and myths show our depth psychology in ancient dress….” going so far as to add that, “each god is a way in which we are shadowed” (p. 9-10).  It is because of this that we utilize myths to dig deeper into our own psyche and reveal things about ourselves and our history that can help us transform.  They provide us with images that can help us understand who we are on an unconscious level.  One particular legend that has captured my attention since I was a child was that of Medusa, the monster/goddess with poisonous snakes for hair who turns those who look upon her to stone.  As a result of this fascination, I felt that she was rising up from the mythic realms to teach me something—something that I want to explore in this paper.  Medusa’s story has been portrayed in a negative light in much of the depth psychological literature because it examines the story from the Roman perspective, when the patriarchy tirelessly toiled to rework the stories of Crete and neighboring regions in an attempt to assert dominance.  But beneath the work of poets such as Ovid, we can see a more complex story, one that speaks to the power of women and the repression of that power, especially if we examine the pre-Olympian symbols presented in the myth.  While there are many references from the depth psychology greats such as Jung and Hillman of Medusa being the Devouring Mother—this paper will examine the other side of this mythos, looking at her mystic serpentine origins, the suppression of the divine feminine, and the powerful healer and shamanic initiator of alchemical transformation behind the monster bearing her fangs.

The Historical and Mythological Context: Ovid’s Source Material
            When examining myths it is of the utmost importance to go to the original source of the story—this allows for an understanding based in the cultural context and psyche of the time.  One of the sources of the Medusa myth is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book 4. Verses 780-800 (Ovid/Raeburn, 2004, p. 170) explain about this Maiden turned Monster:
“‘Medusa was once an exceedingly beautiful maiden, whose hand in marriage was jealously sought by an army of suitors.  According to someone who told me he’d seen it, her marvelous hair was her crowning glory.  The story goes that Neptune the sea god raped this glorious creature inside the shrine of Minerva.  Jove’s daughter screened her virginal eyes with her aegis in horror, and punished the sin, by transforming the Gorgon’s beautiful hair into horrible snakes.’  (That explains why, to startle her foes into terror, the goddess always displays those snakes on the front of her bosom.)”  
Here we learn of Medusa’s original innocence and how she was punished after being the victim of a violent sexual assault.  Surprisingly, it was a goddess who then chastised Medusa for her “sin”—that of being desirable to a host of men, including the god who violates her.  Blaming the victim is a grievous problem that still occurs in modern times when women are physically attacked.  This mythic representation of the violent repression of women and their power shows just how ancient this issue is. Ovid (Raeburn, 2004) also explains in this passage that Perseus then kills the Gorgon while she is sleeping, by peering at her in the reflection of his shield.  Campbell (1964) makes reference to Robert Graves, who wrote two volumes on Greek myth, suggesting that the legend of Perseus beheading Medusa actually alluded to “‘the Hellenes overran the goddess’s chief shrines’ and ‘stripped her priestesses of their Gorgon mask’,” and that in her pre-Olympian form she was, “lovelier, fresher . . . and one of the granddaughters of Gaea” (pp. 152-153).  Looking at it from this cultural perspective, the myth shifts from being a story about a monster who must be defeated to being about the dominance of a masculine society over one that is feminine.  The rape of Medusa becomes an attempt by the imperial Roman political institution to suppress the power of the Goddess and her priestesses.  The fear of feminine, that we still see to this day, had its origin during this time period.  Men have been, as Cixous (1976) said, “consumed by a fear of being a woman!  For, if psychoanalysis was constituted from woman, to repress femininity its account of masculine sexuality is now hardly refutable” (p. 884).  But why is this fear so intense that it warrants the telling of the symbolic death of this power?  As Baring and Cashford (1991) explain, “Medusa’s name actually means ‘mistress’ or ‘queen’” (p. 340); therefore this was not just about the repression of the feminine, but the destruction of women in royal positions.  Before the Roman Empire swept across the ancient world women held influential roles, more than likely due to the fact that they menstruated and gave birth—exemplifying seemingly magical properties of transformation.  Nestled in the Medusa myth we find the kernels of both the suppression and the divine authority of the feminine.  
​
Farther Back in Time: Repression of the Serpent
            Women’s divine supremacy is reflected in Medusa’s most defining characteristic: her serpentine hair.  When the snake grows it sheds a layer of skin—this is reminiscent of women’s ability to shed the lining of the uterus from the body during menstruation.  As far back as humans could communicate through art, the divine feminine was depicted as this powerful creature.  Campbell (1964) explains “The wonderful ability of the serpent to slough its skin and so renew its youth has earned for it throughout the world the character of the mater of the mystery of rebirth” (p. 9).  It was not just the Roman Empire that attempted to suppress the feminine, squelching the snake as the symbol of women—other male-dominated cultures attacked with a feverish intensity.  In the Jewish tradition the serpent is vilified in the Old Testament when it is cursed by God in Genesis 3:14 “Upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat.”  Baring and Cashford (1991) explain that the abusive traducement continues in Iron Age literature when “the solar hero conquers the serpent, who embodies chaos, evil and death . . . . This suggests that there was a fundamental change of consciousness from the earlier era, when death and life were perceived as phases of a lunar totality” (p. 290).  This was a move away from humankind being in harmony with the rhythms of the Earth and the goddess, looking at darkness rather as the antithesis of this new solar-focused god.  We even see this happening in Delphi, where the serpent-goddess who ruled there was killed, and then whose power was usurped by Apollo:
“Whoever went to meet the she-dragon
The day of death would carry him off,
Until the lord Apollo,
Who works from afar,
Let fly at her his strong arrows . . .
And then
Life left her,
Breathing out blood” (Homer, ‘Hymn to Apollo’, 1991, trs. Jules Cashford)
The fear of women’s strength slithers through these examples.  The psychological shift in power from a society where the feminine was highly regarded to one where women could be nonchalantly raped indicates that there was an undercurrent of brutality and being out of alignment with nature.  That is why the fact that Medusa had hair of snakes is so important to the myth.  Those serpents reveal the importance of an open minded way of life that prevailed before the shift in consciousness.  In the pre-male-dominated religious landscape humanity lived harmoniously, without the need to impose their beliefs on others.  Baring and Cashford (1991) explain that in the Adam and Eve myth:  “Here, the serpent is the image of that divine curiosity which disturbs the established order so that we are drawn deeper into understanding. . . . The serpent transforms and heals the limitations of an exclusively conscious viewpoint, dogmatically held” (p. 536).  By demoting the serpent the masculine could thereby hold fast to their dogma and control.  The myths chronicled by the patriarchy of many different cultures in the ancient world conveyed the repression of the most potent feminine symbol by vilifying it—resulting in the ultimate shift in power.   

PART 2 WILL APPEAR NEXT WEEK

​REFERENCES
 
Barring A. & Cashford J. (1991). The myth of the goddess: Evolution of an image.  London,         England: ARKANA Penguin Books.

Bright, B. (2010). Facing Medusa: Alchemical transformation through the power of surrender.     
            Depth Insights.  Retrieved from http://www.depthinsights.com/pdfs/
Facing_Medusa_Alchemical_Surrender-BBright-052010.pdf

Cavalli, T. F. (2002).  Alchemical psychology: Old recipes for living in a new world.  New York: Tarcher/Putnam.

Cixous, H. (1976, Summer). The laugh of the Medusa. (K. & P. Cohen, Trans.). Signs, Vol.1,
            No. 4, 875-893.

Hillman, J. (2016). Mythic figures.  Thompson, CT: Spring Publications, Inc.

Jung, C. G. (1959).  Collected works of C. G. Jung, volume 9 (part 2): Aion: Researches into the phenomenology of self.  Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Neumann, E. (1955).  The great mother: An analysis of the archetype.  Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Ovid (2004).  Metamorphoses. (Raeburn, D. Trans.). London, UK: Penguin Books.
​
von Franz, M.L. (1964).  The process of individuation. In C. G. Jung (Ed.), Man and his symbols (pp. 158-229). Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, Inc.

von Franz, M.L. (1988).  The way of the dream.  Toronto, Canada: Windrose. 
 
 

This word is flung around a lot on my website and I wanted to give you a little insight into what it means.  Perhaps you’ve heard the word before and you really don’t have a good sense of what it is all about—don’t worry, you aren’t alone.  I'm studying the concept and it still seems illusive to me sometimes.  

I figured I would share the definition from the master (Carl Jung) himself first.  A quick search reveals that www.carl-jung.net has an entire page dedicated to the concept.  Here is an excerpt regarding what an archetype is: "An innate tendency which molds and transform the individual consciousness. A fact defined more through a drive than through specific inherited contents, images etc.; a matrix which influences the human behavior as well as his ideas and concepts on the ethical, moral religious and cultural levels. . ."  The page goes on to state,  "The archetype concept - Jung writes - derives from the often repeated observation that myths and universal literature stories contain well defined themes which appear every time and everywhere. We often meet these themes in the fantasies, dreams, delirious ideas and illusions of persons living nowadays".

That is all fine and dandy of course...but I would like to give you a definition that isn't as complex...something you can easily wrap your brain around.  So, my definition is as follows:
ARCHETYPES ARE DIVINE UNIVERSAL PATTERNS THAT SHAPES EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD AROUND US!

To be more specific, they have to do with our consciousness and the way we show up in the world.  I believe that everyone is born with a set of archetypes already installed in their unconscious that develop who they are over time.  Think of them as an operating system.  For instance, you find yourself being driven by your creativity, desire to create things and a need to make beautiful objects with your hands--you have the ARTIST archetype within you.  Another example would be that you approach the world looking for the beauty in everything, you attract friends easily and feel that love is the driving force in your life--then you have been fitted with the LOVER archetype.  And so on...

Many different mystics and modern-age gurus have stated that we have a specific amount of archetypes.  I believe this to be true, but don't know if we can ever truly calculate that number.  Thus, when working on my Multihood Program I have arbitrarily chosen the number 9.  And in the work that I will be leading Mothers through, intend to help them discover 8 unique archetypal patterns within themselves, along with honing the most important one, according to Jung, THE SELF.  Jung states, "The Self is the archetype of the psychical totality. It is not identical with the ego but situates itself somehow above or in other words in the midst between ego and unconscious" (http://www.carl-jung.net/self.html). 

So does that make sense?  Does that help you understand the concept a bit better?  Please let me know in the comments below!  So Much Gratitude - Rev. P

So you’re curious about Sandplay Therapy!  Well, you have come to the right place.  I have been in this therapy process for some time now in order to do my own therapeutic work, and have noticed an immense shift in my overall well-being each time I leave the therapist's office.  It is the deeply transformative power that Sandplay provides that made me want to become a Sandplay Therapy Practitioner.  My Pastoral Counseling practice offers SPIRIT-BASE COUNSELING to anyone of any spiritual or religious background.  In my practice I focus on helping people to become who there were sent here to be.  But, I always felt that talking could only get someone so far.  

As I shift my focus to working more specifically with New Mothers, I felt that I needed something else to round-out my counseling work.  Not only did I want to provide a space for New Mothers to grow and realize their MULTIHOOD, but I also wanted to provide counseling that would help them deal with the day-to-day demands of their new Archetypal role.  Most therapy settings are based in talking--but I wanted to go BEYOND talking to provide well-rounded soul-assistance.  Sometimes the last thing you want to do, after a long day of dealing with a baby and the demands of your family life--is talk!  But think of being provided with the space to PLAY, to not have to verbally put into words your emotional state--but utilize your hands, your body, and symbolic figures to express how you feel.
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The Sandplay Therapists of America website explains, “Sandplay is ‘hands on’ psychological work, and is an adjunct to talk therapy.  It is a powerful therapeutic method that facilitates the psyche’s natural healing…the client creates a concrete manifestation from his or her imagination using sand, water, and miniature objects.  In this way Sandplay helps honor and illuminate the client’s internal symbolic world, providing a place for its expression within a safe container.” (https://www.sandplay.org/about-sandplay/what-is-sandplay/)
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As you can see from my example above, all of the work is done within the confines of a tray that has been painted blue on the inside (to invoke the feeling of water), filled with sand, to which actual water can also be added.  Shelves of figurines and natural materials are provided in order to create a meaningful scene.  The process unfolds as you simply choose items to which you are attracted--without the necessity of having a meaning behind them when you begin.  As the process unfolds, you slowly understand what all of the figures represent symbolically, or perhaps you do not.  But in the Unconscious, things are at work.  Over the course of many trays an unraveling occurs where the symbolic begins to make sense in your Conscious mind.    

It is definitely something that needs to be experienced to be understood!  But now you have been given a taste of what it looks like.  Please feel free to ask questions in the comments section below, and if you are interested in diving into the SAND with me, please use the contact form on the Pastoral Counseling page.

I look forward to hearing from you!  * Many Blessings * -Rev. P

​In 1994 my life changed forever.  I went from only dabbling in spiritual pursuits, to being a full-on student of an amazing White Witch.  I was 14 then, and attending a Christian High School where I didn't feel spiritually cultivated.  It wasn't that I didn't love Christ--because I did and I still do!  It was that I didn't feel like I could explore all the religious and spiritual paths the world had to offer.  And I was super curious!  Super curious about all of it--from Buddhism to Witchcraft and everything in between, I wanted to know MORE.  From a young age, anything spiritual or religious fascinated me.  I remember watching shows on Discovery channel about different religions and wanting to go to all of these far-off lands to immerse myself in their practices.  I was particularly intrigued by a special on Stonehenge and the Druids, and felt that I was destined to be involved in a similar path.  So when I met a White Witch who was giving a class on basic Witchcraft, I asked my parents if I could take it.  They met with the woman and agreed to let me take the class.  As I attended each class, hanging on every word of this beautiful grey-haired woman always dressed in flowing purple garments, I felt real MAGIC for the very first time.  Working with crystals and the elements made me feel truly alive.  
Fast forward to college and I finally had the opportunity to explore all the religions in which I had been interested.  I took as many classes as I could in the Religion department, and additional ones on Women's Studies and Paganism as they were offered.  During college I felt immensely drawn to Taoism and Buddhism and spent chunks of time devoted to practicing both.  Each time I worked within the tenants of a different religion I felt like I was activating something deep inside of myself that needed to be awakened.  I never felt like an particular religion was my end-all and be-all however, and I continued to explore other traditions even after finishing college.  I spun widely in the ecstatic practice of Sufism, reading Rumi everyday and learning how to twirl.  I spent years attending a Goddess Temple in Orange County where I learned how to honor and cherish my own feminine wisdom.  I took up a Tibetan Buddhist practice for awhile, immersed my self in Druidry, spent several years attending an Episcopalian Church (which I still attend on occasion), and then realized the power of Shamanism.  
In 2012, while leading a small woman's group doing transformation work based on the phases of the Moon, I heard the call to NOURISH OTHERS CONNECTION TO THE DIVINE-WEB-OF-ALL-REALITY.  It was then that I decided to go to Seminary.  I wasn't sure where that would take me, thinking at first I would be a Prison or Hospital Chaplain--but not feeling either were the right fit when I had the chance to do that work.  What I knew I wanted to do was write a book on spiritual practices and lead workshops for people like me.  People who didn't FIT into any one spiritual tradition.  I was led to be ordained as an Interfaith Minister and Chaplain--getting the proper training to provide spiritual care; and then set off to write my first book in my final year of Seminary:  Within the Sacred Circle:  An Interfaith Guide to Shamanic Tools and Rituals of Transformation.  During the creation of that book I taught workshops on connecting to a set of ritual objects and doing transformative work at the turning of the Seasons.
After graduating, I came face-to-face with my own mortality when I almost died of a kidney infection two weeks before getting married to the love of my life.  It was then that I discovered the ancient art of Alchemy.  As I made my way through 3 surgeries, I studied this arcane magical art and wrote a book on its main process.  Rounding out my training as I taught workshops on the subject--I discovered the work of the Psychologist C.G. Jung and my life was yet again forever changed.  This was the last important educational piece in my puzzle.  Someone before me had gone down all of the same roads and was also called to help others heal.  I then decided to go to Pacifica Graduate Institute to pursue my PhD in Depth Psychology and dive head first into the work of Jung.

​I never thought I would be a Mother.  I always considered myself an ARTIST, or a WRITER, or a STUDENT—depending on my circumstances…but never a Mom.  Then in July 2017, my Mother was airlifted to the hospital with severe fungal pneumonia.  She almost died.  As a result, my cycle got all wonky.  At the end of that month, my husband and I were celebrating our 5 year anniversary…my normal rhythm method calculations were all off…one thing led to another…and I got pregnant. 
Let me state here:  I AM PRO-CHOICE!  It’s not like I didn’t have options.  But something deep down inside of me was telling me:  THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!  My husband and I spent weeks discussing our options and decided to keep it. 
I had gone through my darkest hours over the last couple of years--between battling a rare kidney issue two years before; dealing with my first husband and a prior lover dying tragically in the same month last year; and finally being face-to-face with my own Mother’s mortality this last summer!  I had gone into the Underworld and stayed for a bit.  Upon my arrival back on the surface, my world had changed—just like Persephone in the ancient myths. 
But what did it all mean?  Had it just been a series of random events?  I don’t think so!  To give you a little background:  I had had a tumultuous upbringing, had been the victim of rape, and had so many hours in therapy I couldn’t keep count.  After much study and spiritual exploration I had also written two books—one on pagan rituals across cultures and one on transforming your life through alchemy.  Then I started my PhD in Depth Psychology after going through three horrifying kidney surgeries to save my life.  I had worked and worked to refine myself, and finally dedicated my life to helping others do the same.  So, when I ended up pregnant at the end of a long trek through the darkness—I knew that it had a purpose.
THAT PURPOSE WAS: MULTIHOOD!  What is MULTIHOOD you ask?  It is EMBRACING the MULTIPLE ARCHETYPES you house within you.  Why is this so important?  Well, that is a bit more complicated.  When a woman becomes a MOTHER, she has been conditioned to believe that that is all she is.  And that simply isn’t true.  I have been in the midst of many a new Mom who are in the throes of a complete mental breakdown because they’ve lost who they are.  When I found out I was pregnant that overpowering archetypal force of the GREAT MOTHER swooped in and attempted to convert me too!  But through my psychological training I saw that there needs to be more to each of us than just MOTHERHOOD.  First of all, it isn’t healthy for the woman, and second, it isn’t healthy for the child.  How many people have you heard of who have Mother-complexes from dealing with overbearing Moms?  Psychological literature is just teeming with the concept of the Devouring Mother and how she destroys a child’s sense of Self.  Then there is the depression, burn-out, and more that comes with 100% dedicating yourself to just being ONE thing.
So, as I start to create a program to help women move from MOTHERHOOD to MULTIHOOD—I thought I’d share my journey with you.  Being on the pregnancy side of being a Mom, I know that my perspective can be a bit skewed.  I don’t have to get up every hour or so for feedings.  I’m not changing diapers or keeping a little human alive.  But, I AM in the process of setting up schedules to make sure that I have time for my Inner Warrior, Inner Witch, Inner Lover and Inner Artist to have time to do their thing!  I do know that I’m talking to my husband about having time to do my art, write, and meditate.  And I am setting up an inner attitude where I remain important in this process. 
In the next post I will discuss my MAGICAL process in all of this (see the picture below).  While doing pagan-type things will by no means be a requirement for working on your own MULTIHOOD, those things have shaped my world, and thus I think they are important to talk about. 
I look forward to hearing your thoughts and starting a conversation with you in the comments below!  SO MANY BLESSINGS! –Rev. P