"Wisdom comes with age."

How often have you heard that old chestnut? But cliches are cliches because they are usually true. And, for this old crone, this one is true.

I sense a disturbance in the Force - or at least a change in what's happening at our company. I've been there for 17 years - exactly - this is my anniversary month. I am close to the president, close enough to know that at times he considers me more a friend than an employee. I know that it's time for refinancing with "The Bankers" - it's said that way in the halls of the company, as if they were The Supremes or The Stones or The Beatles or any other icon- in hushed tones of reverence. This has happened before but not to this extent - the VP of Operations going around with The Bankers to all of our sites for the next three or four weeks. Hmmmmm?

"Something's happening here - what it is ain't exactly clear."

The Prez has talked about retiring - at 70 and financially secure, he could. Hmmmmmm?

Am I alarmed? After all I do have 9 more years before I'm eligible for Social Security. I need to grow my nest egg a bit more. I just bought a new car.

But worried I am not. (Can you tell I just saw Star Wars?)

I am a nurse and we're a rare commodity these days.
I'm bright and personable.
I have some connections.
And above all of that: Been there, done that - Survived it!

That's what Cronehood brings to you. Experience based knowledge. If you've gotten this far in life, you've gone through ups and downs and survived and even thrived. You can do it again.

And so can I.

Life

Just a thought - as I was ironing this morning, thinking about how good a life I really DO have.

Life is not the past. Life is not future.
Life is today - this moment.
Remember the past - but don't live in the past.
Plan for the future - but don't wait for the future to live.
Live in the present - it's all there really is.

Getting Outside

How does an apartment dweller living on a busy street get out into nature?

I had a plan today and I did it.
I had invested $10 in one of those easy-carry collapsible chairs, keeping it in my car for whenever I would need it. I first used it a the May Pow-wow at the Lenape Museum - it was so comfortable that I was able to stay several hours with hurting my back or legs.

So today I decided that if the rains held off, I would find a spot outside to take chair and book. I had to drive to find such a relaxing spot but I found it - the Ground Hog Lock of the Canal along the Delaware River.

I set up the chair under a tree where I had a wide view of the river. I got out my book, read and listened to the birds. I also heard the picnickers nearby (I think they were Italian) and motorcycles zooming by on Route 611. But still it was a lot better than sitting on a patio next to Greenwood Ave.

Next Sunday I may walk further down the canal to more a secluded spot. I may even do a spell (without candles, of course) along the river.

There are ways and places to be outside in nature- even for someone who lives in an apartment.

The Woman and The Tree

This March, on a dreary cold day, I attended a class in Celtic Shamanism, given by Andrew Steed - www.andrewsteed.com - a gentleman I love and admire. I've practiced the Craft for many years, so Andrew's class was basic to me - but it's always good to be around like minded folk.

Part of Andrew's class was out in a nearby park. As soon as I walked into the park, I gravitated towards a tree. I love trees (as you can tell from my "grounding" post). I didn't know that finding a special tree was part of Andrew's plan.

I loved this tree because her trunk was wide and her roots were thick. Her branches were gnarled and bent. She gave the impression of surviving years of storms. I stood by her as Andrew told us we were to pick out a tree that "spoke" to us and try to determine what the tree was trying to say.

I leaned against her firm trunk and ran my hands over her bark, looping and ridged. Suddenly I remembered staring at my legs as I dried them after my shower that morning. I was bending over to pat the towel over my calves and I noticed how the skin on my legs wrinkled. Yet another sign of getting older, I sighed to myself and then immediately forgot it - that is until I saw this tree's beautiful trunk.

With tears in my eyes, I looked up into her branches and noticed that names had been carved - some singly in expressions of egotism - some thing in expressions of love. I traced her scares with my finger tips and asked forgiveness of those who could have hurt so by taking a knife to her skin.

And then I thought of those who had carved their names in me - in my heart and would I have wanted them not to have been in my life. No - each name carved in the bark of this crone, whether carved in egotism or in love - each one helped to make me the person I am today.

That was the lesson the woman took from the tree.

The storms, the people, the experiences, the weathering - make the wrinkles, make the names carved on my heart - make it all precious and very, very, very important.

Grounding

Now that it's spring - almost summer - I perform a quick ritual every morning. I go outside my front door and, before I pick up the paper, I walk around the corner of the apartment building, step on the grass in my bare feet and look to the east. While doing this I bless the day and imagine myself as a tree - part of my "Grounding" exercise.

To ground - to establish a base for your power - is a normal part of life for many people. I ground before I meditate, before I do anything at my altar - I mentally ground before attempting to do anything that may be difficult.

My actual grounding ritual is very simple: I stand with my feet apart and hands to the side. I take a few deep breaths and, as I do, I imagine that my feet are the roots of a tree that are growing deep within the Mother Earth. I am the trunk and my arms are the limbs of the tree. I raise each arm slowly imagining the branches shooting off of each limb to touch the sky - to reach to the Sun. All the while I'm breathing slowly and deeply and thanking the Mother. I release the ground by simply reversing the order.

I ground mentally the same way - without the actions (which, if done right before a business meeting, could cause some gossip).

Grounding connects me to the source of all power - Nature. It has become almost second-nature to me now - like brush my teeth - part of my morning ritual.

This winter I even went out in the snow in my stocking feet to look at the east. The beauty of a winter sunrise is awe-inspiring. It would be a very quick look I have to say - but I wanted to really feel the cold. We immune ourselves to the changes of Nature so much that we think the world should always be set at 72 degrees.

You can't become part of Nature - cannot become part of Her power - unless you can feel her changes.

So every morning, before getting the paper, I greet the new day and the Sun. I bless myself and the ones I love. And I ground.

It does make reading that paper a lot easier.

It's Really All "Natural"

I'm constantly amazed at how, the older I get, the more attuned to nature I become. This afternoon I found myself standing outside our company, after going for my lunch, staring up at a tree - whistling back to some birds who had greeted me on my way down the sidewalk.

I was a poor mimic of their sweet "whoo-wheet" - not even being much of a whistler, let alone imitator of bird calls. I was just about to walk out of the noon sunshine to go back into the artificial coolness of airconditioning when I saw a flicker - a quick movement and then a flash of - yellow! A golden finch had been serenading me from the top of the tree.

I hadn't seen a finch since last year - in Mark's wildflower garden. Mark's family sold that land, so the wildflower garden is no longer. Mark and I broke up - so "we" are no longer.

But the golden finch still serenades me from the treetops.

Open invitation

This is to all women, over forty, or who will be over forty:
Post comments here about your life, your dreams, your hopes for your future and the future of our planet - for being a crone means honoring the first Mother - our Earth.

In the Beginning . . .

In the beginning there was a little girl who thought she was a princess.
The little girl became a child who thought she was a cowgirl.
The child became an adolescent who thought she wasn't pretty.
The child became a teenager who didn't think she was much at all.
The teenager became a young woman who thought she would never be loved.
The young woman became a wife who wasn't loved.
The wife became a mother who finally understood love.
The mother became a woman who learned how to mother herself.

And so begins the journey of "Mrs. Jabez."