Winding down

                                                              inside the mountain.

                                                              Fingers tracing the edge of shadows

                                                              Trusting

                                                              this is leading

                                                              to air and light.

                                                              Spinning slowly

                                                              arms freed from gravity’s holding

                                                              into the deep.

 

I used to think archetypes were stories we collectively tell ourselves that eventually, over time, become the fabric of our personal considerations, but now I understand they are more like skin.  More real, more intimate than the clothes we wear to define us.  More intrinsically ours.  The calluses, wrinkles, birthmarks and scars. 

It would seem that in order to have weight, to be as intrinsic as skin, an archetype would have to hold more than just story.  We are our skin.  Skin is experiential in every sense.  It is our largest sensing organ.

Going deeper…individual cells make up the structure of skin.  Cells replicate, know their purpose, are in relationship with other cells, have memory.

Archetypes are both the macrocosm and the microcosm of skin. Experience and memory.

photo credit: D. Sharon Pruitt at http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/338444355