Hymn to Her (The Pretenders)

"The old hag at her cauldron is perhaps the most enduring image of the Wise Woman and a remnant of a time when women were the healers of their communities. They were shamans, witches, midwifes, medicine women, and priestesses of the Goddess.

The Crone is a symbol of inherent wisdom that comes from experience. She has lived through love, sorrow, hope, and fear, coming out of it all a wise and confident spirit. Through these experiences she has learned the secrets of life and death and of the mysteries beyond this world. She has tasted death itself and watched those she loved make the journey before her. It is through her mourning that she faces death, grows to understand it, and becomes the gatekeeper between worlds.

The wisdom of the Crone comes only after learning the lessons of non-judgment and compassion. Through these lessons the Crone becomes the balancing scales between light and dark and between life and death. She is selfless, yet she loves herself. She is kind, yet she knows when to be harsh. She is free, she is compassionate, and she is wise. Only the Crone can complete the journey to the Otherworld and birth the Child of Completion.

The Crone is full of power. Her body is no longer fertile, but her mind is sharp and able. She no longer bleeds, keeping her power within her and owning it without shame or fear.

She is often seen as a healer, working in tune with Nature to cure ailments and guide those ready to leave or enter this world. She is the elder priestess of the Goddess; the Grandmother whose words are few yet priceless in their wisdom.

In myth the Crone is often seen as something to be feared. She is a representation of death and its mysteries. Things that are unknown are always feared, thus we work to know the Crone; to understand her wisdom and beckon her to impart the mysteries upon us. We surrender our fear and ignorance to the Crone and let her strike these overpowering influences down as a stalk of wheat with her shining sickle.

As with all aspects of the Goddess the Crone is not only found within the aged. She is in all beings at all times. She can be present in men and women, young and old; though age may very likely come before her lessons are fully realized.

The Crone is a cleansing force that sweeps through the world carrying away those whose time to live is done to make room for new life. She is associated with the element of water and the direction of west – land of the dead. She is the necessary force of destruction like the force of a wave on the shore; ripping away the beach and returning it to the sea from which it came.

She is the reaper, the comforter, the mysterious old woman who possesses the knowledge of all worlds. The next time a thunderstorm passes overhead take a moment to listen to the voice of the Crone. Feel the tears of joy and mourning fall upon your head and take the first steps to understand her mysteries." ~ Lee Hutch

Last week, for my 68th birthday, I was gifted with a Croning Party, which was just magical.  I could stop there but, me being me, obviously I won't... 😍

Backstory is that Cynthia teaches various classes:  Herbalism, Fermenting 101, Kitchen Medicine, Eat the Weeds, Homeopathy, etc.  She also offers one called Crone Me, Baby, Crone Me!... "for goddesses 50 and above. Learn to celebrate, embrace and ROCK the ages. We’re going to reclaim the word CRONE. We’ll learn what a croning is and how to celebrate the wisdom, love and magic that can only come from the growth we experience from the passage of time."  We of course are familiar with the three archetypes of Maiden, Mother, Crone (and years ago they added Matriarch between Mother and Crone to define the post-childbearing years when women come into their maturity, stability, and sexuality).  

So, back in July, I approached Cynthia about doing a class for my birthday, and inviting my friends; she could make some money, and we would have a fun as well as educational experience.  Cynthia looked at me, and said, "No... I would like to throw you a Croning Party!", and she was off and running. Sounded like a fun few hours of conviviality as well as wisdom; I was going to wait for my 70th, but one never knows what each year, much less day, will bring... and I am at a very good place in my life right now.

I love a good Worlds-Colliding event, so I invited five of my Besties (Nancy, Kathy, SusanP, Suzanne, and of course my daughter Sarah), all of whom I have known for decades... and then five of my gardening peeps, who I've only known for the last year (Alejandra, Claire, Kiana, Katy, and Kerrie).  For various and legit reasons... Suzanne, Alejandra, Claire, and Kiana could not make it, and naturally we missed them but it did not slow us down.

This took place at Cynthia's home, arrival time 6 p.m. and, when we walked in, there was goddess/Celtic music, lippia sage tea, and a reverential hushed ambiance.  Cynthia did an amazing job putting together a ceremony, and made a headpiece ("crone comes from crown, indicating wisdom emanating from the head") of olive branches and sweet red clover, which I wore throughout.  She told stories, did some prayers and meditations, and then the gifts began:  nothing store-bought, but all handmade, handwritten, hand-crafted.  There may have to be a Part 2 to this, because I want to honor these creative contributions in all their glory, each one more thoughtful and special than the one before, including beautiful words spoken to, and written for, me.  Unlike baseball, to paraphrase Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own, "there *is* crying in croning!".  Happy tears, yet tears nonetheless.

Leo that I am, I am really not comfortable being in the spotlight when it's about *me*.  I was a great emcee for my concert series because it was about the music; I could present a UU church service because it was about the spiritual message.  This was hard, and I got squirrelly with the love and attention, but I basked in it as well, because I took it in and radiated it outward.

Cynthia then led me into another room, where she'd constructed a Croning Tent (teepee-ish, with a beautiful butterfly fabric wrapped around it), and she anointed my legs with sandalwood, and my hands with frankincense, and placed a gorgeous shimmery purple scarf around my neck; we meditated some more, and she invited everyone else into the room to meet and embrace the Newly-Croned Me.  And then we sat back down and I was able to convey my gratitude to everyone for their presence in my life, and for accompanying me on this next step of my aging journey.

Then the wild and crazy playlist kicked in, starting with Respect (my karaoke song, if I did that kind of thing, which I don't), seguing to Helen Reddy and Kesha and Meredith Brooks, and I opened the champagne and we dove into the vegan spread of yummies that I brought, both sweet and savory... and we wrapped up about 9 p.m., everyone going their respective ways.  Oh yeah, and I made goodie bags for each woman... a poetry book, a magnetic bookmark, a Namaste (the divine in me honors the divine in you) candle, 2 packets of Yogi's Spicy Hibiscus Blossom Positive Energy tea, cute patterned footie socks, a sachet of my Bath Tea, and a link to a reworked/refreshed (segued from CD to Spotify) playlist. 

I am crying all over again just writing this down.  Such a dear, loving, wonder-full evening.  Dare I say magical again?  Sigh... 💖

SONG:  Hymn to Her by The Pretenders

BOOK:  Crones Don't Whine: Concentrated Wisdom for Juicy Women by Jean Shinoda Bolen 

POEM(S):  There Is a Girl Inside by Lucille Clifton

There is a girl inside.

She is randy as a wolf.

She will not walk away and leave these bones

to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.

She is a green girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun

for the second coming,

when she can break through gray hairs

into blossom

and her lovers will harvest

honey and thyme

and the woods will be wild

with the damn wonder of it.

A Manifesto for Aging Gracefully by Samantha Reynolds

Stand on top

of the heap of your years

like a mountain climber

on a summit.

Squint

and you will see patterns

in the scurrying.

This is wisdom,

feed it grace,

make time

to listen

to your crinkled thoughts.

Keep hoisting yourself up

or age will bury you,

a suffocating

futile

lament

for what was.

QUOTE(S):  "Considering the Crone. Not the one of decay and witchery. Not the old hag bent over and ignored. Not the invisible one who is relegated to the outskirts of society.  No not those subscribed beliefs of diminishing feminine power.  But the True ancient wise one who wears the Crown of light that insight, experience, and her true nature unfettered by the calls to behave and be quiet  provides.  Yes the Sorceress, Crone and Dark Mother which sit in the Northern, Earthen place on the wheel wielding the heart of the Elder, longing to be a contribution to her community by sharing her gifts of the medicine she came to impart." ~ Elizabeth Brown

“The Crone’s title was related to the word crown and she represented the power of the ancient tribal matriarch who made the moral and legal decisions for her subjects and descendants. It was the medieval metamorphosis of the wise woman into the witch that changed the word Crone from a compliment to an insult and established the stereotype of malevolent old womanhood that continues to haunt elder women today.” ~ Barbara Walker