Woodman ⎯ Body + Soul

Photo by Suzanne D. Williams

Below is a paper I wrote for an Introduction to the Theories of the Depth Tradition at Pacifica Graduate School in the Fall of my first quarter. I felt called to share it here, as I dive into symbolism and mythology in the importance of the psche of the individual and the collective. The symbol of the chrysalis has really been a strong image for me and thought it may share some resonance with you as well. Enjoy the read!

-Tawny

Butterflies have been on the earth for hundreds of millions of years; perhaps they have something to teach us. Upon reading Jungian analyst Marion Woodman's (1985) “Chrysalis” —I see they do. The themes in Woodman’s work that stood out involved: psychological transformation, death and rebirth, the natural spirals of growth, resistance to change, and various options to view one becoming as a process of change. Woodman shared perspectives and insights from her personal and professional life, offering profundity to the messages shared. The entirety of her life influenced her writing, which I recognize is how I also want to approach my journey into psychotherapy—honoring and pulling from all I have learned about life these last 40 years. I anticipate the nonlinear spiral of change she wrote of, will influence my current studies and find its way into my work with clients in surprising ways. I explored reflections and reactions from this lovely piece of writing and the applications it might have in my future psychotherapy practice. I offer examples of how I might employ this sacred transformational tending in therapy, and I am excited to see how it unfolds with life. 

As a pioneer and respected author on the feminine psyche and soma, Woodman (1985) had much to share; and I became aware I had much to learn. I feel drawn to Woodman’s writings, and I am grateful for her connection to Pacifica Graduate Institute, where she taught. Woodman’s emphasis was on the process of transformation, and she was attuned to the ways it appeared in people's lives. She warned that because the psyche leans towards wholeness, “the self will attempt to push the neglected parts forward for recognition” (Woodman, 1985, p. 23) a built-in mechanism that encourages one’s growth. What one does with what is “pushed forward,” whether that be an emotion, an inconvenient knowing, or a disease, for example, is a personal choice. How one responds to life’s challenging moments has a lot to do with one's capacity to navigate the path of change. Similar to the process found in the butterflies successful metamorphosis, change happens through different stages. One’s tendency to fight or resist the fires of change is also a choice and can be seen often in the struggles humans face. Woodman offered many examples of how one can face change, all of which I found had their own unique wisdoms and applications. One such way was found in “mining our laden darkness” (1985) where one approaches that which one has outcasted. In therapy this may be seen in supporting the client to explore the messy or scary places the dark brings out, and to bring to light the places where the client is fixed against change. I imagine the diversity of ways one faces change also reflects the different permutations that can summon it forth. For some wholeness arises through experiences of grief, fear, addiction, shame, tragedy, or a lack of ritual and communal witnessing for which Woodman makes a case for. Each client's route on the path to healing is unique as is what brings about their change.

Woodman’s childhood story of watching the magical metamorphosis of the caterpillar in her father’s garden presents many lessons for the psyche to explore, and for the psychotherapist to recognize. This natural lifecycle teaches about growth, patience, trust, and the expansion possible when endured. Such transitional times may also bring to the surface ones insecurities; change is difficult. Woodman encourages individuals to surrender to the wisdom of the intelligent process like the butterfly, even when one does not know where such change is taking one. Her advice inspired me and also reminded me of the times I have leaped into the unknown and emerged into a more whole version of myself: "No longer who we were, we know not who we may become" (Woodman, 1985, p. 7). I am currently in a process like this. Entering graduate school was a big decision, and it has changed my life drastically. The commitment, dedication, and energy I desire to give to this opportunity and to my future career requires a new me. This is an exciting and scary place to be in.

Life, like all of living nature, is evolutionary and constantly changing. When one can begin to support and trust this unknown imminent future, even if not sure of the specifics, is to be pro-life and for life’s possibilities. Supporting clients to face what is painful and uncomfortable encourages their growth and, thus, brings their expansion. I was moved by Woodman’s (1985) comment that "Birth is the death of the life we have known; death is the birth of the life we have yet to live. We need to hold the tensions and allow our circuit to give way to a larger circumference” (Woodman, 1985, p. 14) because this is the way out of the chrysalis. Holding this tension and allowing it to expand one feels like an essential tool or skill in transformation. Applying this idea of giving way to a larger circumference, I know from the birth of my daughter that contractions eventually lead to openings, and the process of becoming human is literally when tensions have space. It is perhaps in this metaphoric stage that many seek psychotherapy’s guidance: when things are tight (the pressure in one's life is at its maximum) and there can appear no apparent way out. These loaded moments have been the times for me when therapy has helped the most. Once this stage is met one can begin to approach their insecurities, the “winged butterflies” in our story become capable of exploring past their boundaries and begin their next exploration into life flight.

The symbol of the chrysalis represents this natural process of becoming. I can see its application in my process of becoming a mother, a wife, and now another version of myself as a graduate student and budding therapist. Again and again, I have found myself in the chrysalis of change and now know its value. I know these symbols will support my transformations as well as those I serve. Nature offers maps, and this one feels particularly helpful in the work and art of healing. The journey that the caterpillar goes through, from walking on the earth, with its many legs steadily marching, to then undergoing the dissolving and disintegration of form into its chrysalis—is a substantial physical feat, mirroring the psychological stages of transformation. Within this stage of luminal liquid changeable messiness, the unsettling mysterious unknown space it occupies requires the transformer (whether a bug or client) to acknowledge the invitation, task, or demand, and to surrender to the dark. Psychotherapy supports our availability to be present in whatever phase one is in, which is to be available for the process of our own becoming. Many beautiful things begin in the dark.

References

Woodman, M. (1985). The pregnant virgin: A process of psychological transformation. Inner City Books.