November 13, 2022

If it isn’t already, it will soon become obvious that I’ve spent the better part of the last few weeks sorting through, organizing, purging, and refreshing my library of images and words. It’s a much larger task than I anticipated, and far from complete as I discover that over the years I’ve created literally hundreds of these and stored them in all manner of filing systems. Have now winnowed these down to a more manageable one hundred plus…although that ‘plus’ seems to keep growing.

Some of these aren’t half bad and I will be sharing them. Some will call to be wrapped in a story or narrative. Others will simply invite and hopefully inspire your narrative. This is one of those.

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

November 11, 2022

At first glance it seems a bit impractical for things like getting in and out of or driving a car. Hugs might be challenging. But the older I get, the less practicality is an aspiration. And this seems a perfect hat for dancing in grocery stores where those automatic double doors would make for a wonderfully grand entrance. 

Being a Crone. It’s about wearing twig hats and getting up to exciting crap. A wild dance. Join me? I’ve got loads of twigs. 

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

November 3, 2022

Ah, synchronicity. I love how it flows through life. The day I published my latest post, Dennis found these words and thought they were appropriate to the thread. Absolutely. I couldn’t resist finding an image and creating this piece. 

As we journey through the years, our eyesight changes and we welcome the support of reading glasses, prescription glasses, and even cataract surgery to sustain our vision. Of course this support was not available in the early 1900s when Rilke was writing. When eyesight failed, the work of the eyes was done. For elders of that time, it was good advice to turn to the heart work. 

We are so very fortunate to be able to have our vision for most of our life journey. But because, in this sense, the work of our eyes is not done, are Rilke’s words irrelevant for this time? Perhaps at first glance. But there is something in this that calls for deeper consideration.

Especially as Crone, as elder, it’s important to consider the heart work of releasing all those images imprisoned within. I close my eyes and open to other ways of seeing. 

Beannacht,
Judith

November 1, 2022

As we grow older, we are increasingly visited by the bitter fruit of loss and sorrow. Life is filled with more endings than beginnings, including the lives of friends and loved ones. Deep grief.

We slow down. Our faculties and capacities diminish and we are no longer able to do what we once could. No more standing on a ladder to clean the gutters. No more driving at night. No more marathons – well, for most of us.

Sour cherries, perhaps. But these are also the juicy bits. As Crone, we are called to not look away or become overwhelmed with regrets. We are called to slow down. We are called to turn and face this part of our life journey, understanding that in this we are called to greater love and compassion. We are called to be more compassionate and present for ourselves and others in authentic and deeply meaningful. In this, there is the time and space for communion at a soul level.

Mário de Andrade concludes The Valuable Time of Maturity with these words:

My goal is to reach the end satisfied
and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

And per Confucius “We have two lives
and the second begins when you realize you only have one.”

Sorrow and loss. These are the cherries that can offer deep peace and satisfaction. These are the juicy bits that signal we are living that second life. 

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

October 31, 2022

Dancing in public is among my favorite things these days. Especially in Ireland where grocery stores and restaurants have the best dancing music. It’s just hard to stay still. In fact I thought our table of eight was going to be excused from my favorite Doolin restaurant last May when we all started to rock out to Motown tunes with salt and pepper shakers as our microphones. 

Singing and dancing and laughing is such contagious joy. I was in a small Irish restaurant by myself waiting for a take-away order when the music called and a man sitting at a nearby table and I broke into a spontaneous karaoke duet. Never met the man before and probably never will again. His son was mortified. But we had a grand time and I did catch smiles from many around us. Contagious joy. Those are the juicy bits, the tantalizing cherries. And they are increasingly more essential in my life.

Again, in the words of Mário de Andrade:

I want to live close to human people, very human,
who laugh of their own stumbles,
and away from those turned smug
and overconfident with their triumphs,
away from those filled with self-importance.

The essential is what makes life worthwhile.
And for me, the essentials are enough!

Yes, I’m in a hurry.
I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity that only maturity can give.

I do not intend to waste any of the remaining cherries.

I am sure they will be exquisite, much more than those eaten so far.

Love, joy, and peace are intrinsic to our divine human nature. We are hardwired for it at a soul level. And we generally do pretty well with love and peace. But it seems that so often our expression of joy barely rises beyond a level of happiness. It’s as if something in our collective consciousness and cultural conditioning won’t allow us to be that bawdy and bold. Of course happiness is wonderful. It just doesn’t hold the exquisite juice of joy. And we are here to dance the juicy bits. 

But love, joy, and peace are only some of the juicy bits. There are others perhaps less pleasant and comfortable, but no less familiar or essential. And this conversation would be incomplete without their consideration. 

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

October 30, 2022

We live in Home. Well, actually a mile up the road but close enough to call it home. Originally established in the early 1900s as Home Colony, it’s one of several originally utopian communities along the shores of Puget Sound. With a fairly static population of 1,377, the history, legend, and lore of it are reasons we decided to settle here forty-seven years ago. The free thinking energy still lingers.

I was recently walking the waterfront road when I encountered a woman coming from the opposite direction. When I slowed down to greet her, she looked and me and tilted her head. “I feel like I know you,” she said. “Are you the one…? Did you…?” I knew immediately what she was talking about. “Yes, I am. And yes I did facilitate those meetings at the fire station.”

In the days after Trump was elected, so many of us were in shock. We sensed what was coming although I don’t think any of us could have imagined the current horror of it. And so we gathered, just to be together as we tried to get our minds around this situation. I welcomed folks to the day retreat facility here at MossTerra. When we quickly outgrew that space, we gathered at the Home fire station and would become one of many Indivisible groups that sprang up across the country. This woman, Jill, participated. 

As we chatted about the dire predictions for the upcoming midterm elections, she suggested perhaps we would need to gather again. I said, “perhaps.” But I knew I would not be convening or facilitating another gathering. The words of Mário de Andrade from seventy years ago express exactly why I won’t.

I no longer have the time to manage
sensitivities of people who despite their chronological age, are immature.
I hate to confront those that struggle for power,
those that ‘do not debate content, just the labels’.

My time has become scarce to debate labels,
I want the essence.

My soul is in a hurry. . .

Not many cherries in my bowl.

While I do imagine that any such gathering would be more about content than labels, the anger and hatred and violence that is now the nature of political discourse in this country would doubtless seep in. And my soul just doesn’t have time for it. 

I want the essence of the shared beliefs that founded Home Colony. I want the utopian ideals of hope and optimism. I want the gracious space to come together around our highest and best nature. I am only interested in gatherings that offer those cherries, those delicious spiritual cherries that satisfy my palate and feed my soul.

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

October 29, 2022

Perhaps it’s this season, a powerful witchy time as it is. And perhaps not. But brooms have been flying through my meditations lately. Messages of clearing out what does not serve me, recently related to my apparently limited thinking about Druidic and mystic archetypes. I wrote a bit from these insights on my StoneFire blog. More to come. 

I hadn’t mentioned any of this to Dennis before he sent me this photo, which feels so perfect because this sweeping away never seems to end and there are days when I feel like I’m dragging my broom behind me. I actually have a broom very much like the one pictured here, along with a fabulous hat. But that’s another story. 

This photo was part of a Facebook post with an amazing poem. The Valuable Time Of Maturity, by Mário de Andrade written in the early 1950s. I mention the date because it’s striking how these words continue to be relevant in this time. 

The poem is powerful, and long enough that I will share some of it over a few blogs. It deserves that consideration. Of course you can find the whole of it on line.

I counted my years
and realized that
I have less time to live by,
than I have lived so far.

I have more past than future.

I feel like that boy who got a bowl of cherries.
At first, he gobbled them,
but when he realized there were only few left,
he began to taste them intensely.

I no longer have time to deal with mediocrity.

Being judgmental is something I inherited from my mother, bless her. There are times when I try to think that I’m just being discerning. But it’s judgement. And, as I count my passing years, I find I have absolutely no time for mediocrity which these days is anything that is not spiritual in nature. I’m willing to stretch that definition of spiritual to include the energy and expression of love, joy, peace, and compassion. But that’s the boundary beyond which everything else seems meaningless, a boundary beyond which lie most of my former relationships, including those forged over the decades of my graphic design and consulting careers. 

I have more past than future. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I consider how many more years I will be leading spiritual journeys and sacred gatherings in Ireland. These are the cherries in my bowl that I cherish and want to taste intensely as long as I am able. Anything else is a distraction. Anything else just seems mediocre. Anything else is something to sweep away.

Swish!

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

October 28, 2022

I have several new blog posts in process and was going to publish one today. And then this landed. A potent precursor because in this season of release and letting go, that is what my writing is about. 

Christopher and I have become friends through our blog posts. While we are of very different spiritual traditions, there is always a resonance. This piece I’m sharing here just stopped me cold. I’ve reached out to find more of the story. I know he’s had medical challenges but I didn’t expect this. I’m sharing it, and the image he posted with it, because it is where we will all stand at some point in our Crone journey. So powerful.

the sadness before separation

fall will turn to winter
after the letting go
don’t go away
I must
there are things for me
on the other side
and I am called
I have been suffering
all that will change now

this is what to feel for now
the sadness before separation
it’s easier to say
for now

the greater pain is coming
the confusion of mortality
the letting go

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

October 22, 2022

It’s strange, sure is strange.
Must be the season of the witch.
Donovan

Oh, they hold great magic. Magic so potent and powerful they dare not live together or with anyone else. Save the occasional cat. It would be disastrous. They are the witches of the Chalk and they live in the Tiffany Aching series of books by Terry Pratchett. 

Now, while they live individually and at a safe distance from each other, they are close enough to know when one among them begins to cackle. And that’s a problem. For cackling signifies going over the edge a bit. Losing it, if you will. And, since for witches that edge is pretty far out there, this can be quite dangerous. So when they hear the cackling, they drop whatever they are brewing and immediately all fly in to bring the sister back to her senses, in itself a tricky business. 

In my elder sister circles, it’s a rare gathering when one among us doesn’t reflect on how there are no others in her life with whom she can share her mystical experiences. Others would think she had gone completely over the edge. And while there’s generally no cackling involved, we sisters are there for her. We affirm that she is not crazy. We honor the great magic she holds and we affirm her mystical sense of self. And we laugh, just to the point of cackling. 

Crones. It’s what we do for each other. Yes. It is strange. Must be the season of the witch!

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith

September 5, 2022

The older we get the more wisdom we hold. Obvious to us. Not always to others. And of course it’s much about how we manifest that wisdom, understanding that accumulated knowledge is not necessarily accumulated wisdom. It’s the journey of Crone.

A strong narrative in this journey is the desire that others would see that the gift of wisdom in our lives could be a gift of wisdom in theirs. So we wait, sometimes patiently, for others to open to that wisdom.

Many of you have probably read this story. I have a memory of it but when my beloved husband shared it with me this morning it called to be shared here. Enjoy.

The Wise Woman’s Stone

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream.  The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation.

The traveler left rejoicing in his good fortune.  He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime.

But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious.

Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me this stone.”

Blessings of Crone Wisdom,
Judith