Quote

For myself, solitude is rather like a folded-up forest that I carry with me everywhere and unfurl around myself when I have need.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: January 27
Poet
Psychologist
Writer
Indiana
United States
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Need
Folded
Needs
Forest
Like
Forests
Solitude
Everywhere
Carry
Rather
Around
Unfurl

More quotes by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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The point of art is not simply to express ourselves, but to create an external, concrete form in which the soul of our lives can be evoked and contained.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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If you have ever been called defiant, incorrigible, forward, cunning, insurgent, unruly, rebellious, you're on the right track.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Long ago the word alone was treated as two words, all one. To be all one meant to be wholly one, to be in oneness, either essentially or temporarily. That is precisely the goal of solitude, to be all one.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Be proud of your scars. They have everything to do with your strength, and what you've endured. They're a treasure map to the deep self.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Though her soul requires seeing, the culture around her requires sightlessness. Though her soul wishes to speak its truth, she is pressured to be silent.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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The deterioration of symbols is natural. They wear out, needing to be reclaimed, recreated returned to the spirit.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Like all other lonely or hungry things, ego loves the light. It sees light, and the possibility of being close to the soul, and it creeps up to it and steals one of its essential camouflages. In a hunger for soul, our own ego-self steals the pelt
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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God forgives us. ... Who am I not to forgive?
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Wolves never look more funny than when they have lost the scent and scrabble to find it again: they hop in the air they run in circles, they plow up the ground with their noses . . . .
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover has to be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouthwatering stands before ou will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-self. And that is what the intuition is for it is the direct messenger of the soul.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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To love pleasure takes little. To love truly takes a hero who can manage his own fear.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Some say that sudden knowledge of mystical matters is accomplished only in complete quietude, or that Creator, in one of God's many forms, appears only in orderly ways that are beauteous and picturesque, or that the mystical appears only in completely silent ways. All are true. Except for the 'only' part.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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If logic was anything, all men would ride sidesaddles.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Bone by bone, hair by hair, Wild Woman comes back. Through night dreams, through events half understood and half remembered.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Artfulness is not simple entertainment, especially during upheaval, unleashing creative life is sacred duty.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Freud's translator accidentally omitted 'fashion' in the psychoanalytic list of primary instinctual drives along with the drive to sexuality there is the drive to wear odd garments that may cut off circulation, occlude vision, make toes grow sideways, cause riots.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Go out in the woods, go out. If you don't go out in the woods nothing will ever happen and your life will never begin.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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The quintessential feminine Self stands at the center of the psyche and it is wild, meaning natural and free, and utterly wise. It is not 'something' we must strive to create. This Self is already fully present, burning strong and waiting for us to come into its presence.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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The body is a multilingual being. It speaks through its color and its temperature, the flush of recognition, the glow of love, the ash of pain, the heat of arousal, the coldness of nonconviction. . . . It speaks through the leaping of the heart, the falling of the spirits, the pit at the center, and rising hope.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes