Grief is a sacred journey

Psychology and Mythology

Active Imagination: Facing the Inner Critic

After moving to our land in 1972, I often walked the trail heading south through my fields. My dog ran ahead and circled back the way retrievers do.  In five minutes, we entered the deep forest. I followed an

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Letting Go of Fear

I lie in darkness under warm blankets. Willow snoozes on her bed on the floor. It’s 4 a.m. My heart pounds as though I’m being chased. No one here except me and this demon. Each breath comes knotted and

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Is There a Time Limit on Love?

A woman told me people seem uncomfortable when she mentions her dead husband. “My husband would have loved this” or “his love still supports me.” Why does his presence in her thoughts disturb her friends? Why is it odd

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After Dallas: Facing My Shadow

“These aren’t marijuana plants,” the policeman said to his partner.  He bent down to inspect a second tray of tomato seedlings I was growing outside and frowned. “These aren’t marijuana plants either.” He slowly shook his head with disappointment. They searched the outside of our

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Demeter and Drought: When the World Turns Dry

The earth moans. Do you hear it? Plants wither. Birds neglect their morning songs. I miss the scent of warm rain. Yesterday’s clouds held promises. Storms blew through with scattered thunder and a whisper of a rainbow. There wasn’t

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Creating Confidence in Dayworlds and Dreams

I drove eleven hours in one day to spend a few days with my son David and his wife Liz. My hearing is too damaged to enjoy music or books on CD, so driving has become visual and cinematic, a

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Persephone: Finding Myself in Her Story

I wore a paper crown. Thick glasses concealed crossed eyes. My head tipped away from my mother, she who pretended everything was fine. Just five, I felt cornered by a dark threat I couldn’t see or name. My parents

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My Lover’s Mama and the Negative Mother Archetype

After I’d known him almost a year, Vic took me to Connecticut to meet his mother Virginia. I was a love-soaked girl of twenty-two. “She can be rough,” Vic warned me. “She has a temper.” “It will be

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It Doesn’t Get Any Better Than This

The great secret of death, and perhaps its deeper connection with us, is this: that in taking from us a being we have loved and venerated, death does not wound us without at the same time, lifting

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Two Goddesses and the Art of Friendship

Nearly two weeks ago, Jean Raffa and I taught our weekend workshop at the C.G. Jung Society of Sarasota, FL. On Saturday, we worked with the oldest known goddess text, written on clay tablets around 1750 BCE in Sumeria (Mesopotamia,

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