Lisa recently told me that I need to have more confidence. One goal of our website is to generate sales, after all. It’s important to promote my work continually. That’s undeniable. I’ve written three novels, two of which are available on my bookshelf. The third has yet to be published. All are literary renderings of the nude. Each is artfully crafted. Why am I reluctant to follow her advice, say how great they are and pressure people into buying them? My search for a suitable answer has involved a lot of introspection.
Starting when I was a kid, I had dreams about naked women. None were sexual in nature. They simply featured a prominent female who neglected to cover up. She — eventually a single individual — haunted me for years. My second wife (although I have been married twice before, neither relationship lasted as long as my decade with Lisa) had a background in psychology. The mystery figure, she claimed, was my anima. The term has, since I began wondering what exactly is wrong with me, resurfaced. I looked it up.
Carl Jung had used the word to refer to a mental image of a lady who embodies the unconscious feminine side of a man. To quote Wikipedia: “Jung believed a male’s sensitivity is often lesser or repressed, and therefore considered the anima one of the most significant autonomous complexes.” More importantly, she manifests in dreams and enables creative ability. Eve, Helen, Mary and Sofia comprise the four stages of her development from desire to wisdom.
Sigmund Freud, on the other hand, speculated that nude dreams were about sexual awakening or anxiety. In my scenarios, however, I wasn’t the one without any clothes on. She was.
Typing “nude anima” as a topic on the internet only returns “nude anime” which, I found, are pornographic cartoons. My dream persona never behaved suggestively. She went about her business, sometimes with a purse slung over a shoulder. Nobody ever treated her any differently, either. So what was the problem?
Maybe she personifies my artistic side. It might explain why she seems so vulnerable to me and no one else. I’m more worried about her exposure than she has ever been. Her depiction, whether in imagery or words, amounts to revealing my innermost self. A level of fear results. I respond with expressions of modesty. They cause me to minimize my achievements … which is where I started. Lisa recently told me that I need to have more confidence.