conversation with the inner man
Jung believed that every woman has an inner “masculine” quality, Archetype, called the Animus (see the glossary) and that every man has an inner “feminine”. (The terms masculine and feminine are not to be confused with literal gender identity.) The state of our relationship with our inner “other” can pretty well be diagnosed by the sate of our outer relationships with members of the opposite sex.
Needless to say, I am a woman struggling against a very negative, dismissive, possessing Animus, trying to become more in touch with my true feminine nature. After all, why try to be a second rate man when I would do better as a first rate woman?
The problem is, I can’t discern. I am so caught in the voices of self doubt. Every moment in which I feel such great conviction, I simultaneously take all I’ve read and use it against (or for??) myself.
For instance, I’ve read that when a woman is moody and argumentative or is being highly opinionated, it’s an indication that she is possessed by her Animus. But what of real, intuitive feminine wisdom? What of that kind of conviction? And the frustration of not being heard? Is that just me, not listening to myself?
At the moment, I’m not sure I can tell which is which. I almost feel like my deepest feminine convictions have no words. There are things that I know in the depths of my soul, but every time I try to put them into words, I fall flat on my face…and almost do greater harm against my own truth and wisdom.
What should I say? “Please follow me blindly, as soon enough it will all make sense and we will be the better for it.”? In order for anyone to follow or trust my feminine truth, I too must trust it! But there is such a negative voice gripping me. Full of self doubt. So dismissing. So annoyed. So inconvenienced. So impatient. So mistrusting. And so MAD at me for listening to it! It’s as if it’s saying, “You foolish woman! Get it together. Take your place! Be a true female leader and put me back to my proper use!”
So, he doesn’t help me find the words. Even now, I feel like I’m bumbling. Only in the poems does he deliver. Perhaps I have to go back to the most primordial realm of my being. The most nebulous, the most numinous and build from there. When I do that, he does behave himself. He does deliver. Maybe that’s my answer. Don’t get ahead of myself.