Whispy lank hair obscuring wrinkled, warty, lined and weathered skin – a protective sheath built up over time and housing life accumulated wisdom. One that, even in protecting self, nurtures with it both insect and other plant life.
I am the Crone, and celebrate that fact.
Barbara Hannah, a student of Jung of Zurich, comments that “Jung believed the first 40 years of life are for gaining experiences and the last 40 are for making sense of them.” All hail to that.
In a society that reveres youth above almost all else; where the attainment or maintenance of the superficial resemblance of youth is important beyond wisdom, or knowledge or empathy or understanding, there is a delicious sense of freedom in not conforming. In being one of the youngest grandmothers at a decile 10 school Grandparent's Day, and one of the only ones with grey hair and eyebrows in their God-given place. In being able to sit back and be part of the flow of life around me and without feeling the need to be bustling with energy and importance myself.
To being able to see so much more clearly, to learn more and be able to draw upon banks of experience built up through the filing cabinets of long term memory. To recognise, appreciate, honour and utilise the wisdom of the maternal ancestors.
To feel a sense of the protective and supportive role I now have, without the responsibility. To feel that I can use the wisdom gained over time to help when needed and the freedom to do my own thing when not. …Freedom to do my own thing.
All hail the Gypsy Crone.