{NEW COLUMN} The Wolf-Woman is the wild voice howling from our psychic depths, begging us to be true to our red, raw souls, feel deeply and sensually, and know ourselves as the divine feminine incarnate. Witch, writer, yoga teacher, and long-time activist for wild spirituality, Danielle Dulsky, will channel the Wolf-Woman’s wisdom for you. Calls for fierce validation and advice rooted in the untamed feminine can be anonymously forwarded to submit@theurbanhowl.com. Visit the Wolf-Woman's submissions guidelines here. Read disclaimer here.
Though we wild ones need to give ourselves some slack, allowing our bodies, psyches, and spirits to cycle as they will, we also need to take stock of our soulful progress every so often.
How do I hold space when co-creating? (When) I find myself, every time I get into a collaboration with another person, that eventually, I will be triggered by them.
Our souls choose to incarnate to parents who will wound us in just the right way to support our journey; this is a bleak perspective, I know, and I absolutely do not believe life is all about being hurt, nor do I believe those who hurt us deserve…
Deep bow to you for admitting your rage, for women frequently have their anger invalidated more than any other emotion. Feminine ire is holy hellfire, and you have a soul-deep right to feel your rage.
The divine feminine is rising now. Right this minute, as our wounded world wails with the agony of labor, we must midwife the birth of the human community in which we want our children to live.
Yes, New Year’s resolutions can certainly have negative implications, with many wild women far better at keeping promises to others than they are at keeping promises to themselves; this is not because of weak-will or an inability to commit but, rather, because they do not authentically value their promise.
The womb-wounds of women are often their most tightly gripped secrets, and, while you certainly do not owe your story to anyone, I have found that much healing comes from bringing our experiences out of the dark.
These are the holy days of the Winter Witch, and we are effectively birthing a whole world into being; this weighted work demands we rest when we can, my sister.
We have all been orphaned by the loss of the Goddess, but it is those who are drawn to wild spirituality who have come to demand Her presence, rage against the machine of patriarchal religion, and howl mournfully like lost cubs who cannot find their den-mothers.
Betrayal by those in our pack carves bloody chasms into our very identity. Betrayal changes the conditions of our relational world so completely and irrevocably that we ourselves have no choice but to become someone new.