Seasonal Salon

The Crone Speaks

What wisdom does the Crone bring???

Where to start? Maybe at the beginning. When one stops to listen, one learns.

She brings insight, she brings perceptions, she brings wisdom of course, and should you ask her she will share the experiences of life. For the Crone has her stories and those tales spans many, many lands and in doing that she touches many, many people. She has traveled every continent and walked in many guises, she has seen things that inspire wonder, things so awesome they take your breath away; as well as such things that dispel the notion of humanity and compassion. These best left unsaid for they are not indicative of drawing upon one’s better angels.

So much for speaking in the third person… I am the Crone!!!

You see I have witnessed both triumph and tragedy, reveling in the beauty of every inch of this sacred world, the sounds of the wind through the trees, the dance of long grasses on the prairies and savannahs, the fires that birth new lands and the oceans and lakes that gave birth to all. Make no mistake that I weep at the inhumanity in which some treat this precious earth and her creatures. Yet, this crone knows that karma is a bitch and the universe has plans for those who destroy. I know that while some are deeply flawed I celebrate those who live with mercy and kindness. Yet one thing this Crone has always known for sure: nature always wears the color of spirit.

And I know this: Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.

When we are broken, when life causes a hole in our hearts, we grow a bigger heart around that hole. Know that we are stronger in the broken places.

A Crone is the accumulation of every moment and inch of a woman’s life. She is the maiden, fresh, vibrant, young, actively pursuing all that life can give, experiencing, taking chances and learning always, from her mistakes. She is the mother, jubilant, plump with fecundity, passionate and persuasive, ferociously protecting her young, and in defending all whom she loves, assumes the full bloom of womanhood even as she nurtures her young.

A crone is all this… the becoming of all these moments. And though she draws her moon blood into herself, she gives up nothing. She utilizes her dominion within her in order to hold her wisdom. She is now that glorious combination of power, all she learned, all she was, all she accomplished, all she gained and lost is what she has become. She cannot go back, nor would she wish to. She has learned and grown and loved and cherished. She has been brave and kind and strong and even foolish at times. And now she is wise… now she can share and cultivate.

She knows the music of one’s old age isn’t necessarily made for dancing.

You see this was never the goal for me. No, it was the journey! No one ever strives to become wrinkled and stooped, or withered and crooked. It is that journey that is the sacred reward.

Ah youth is often wasted on the young!

In some lands, she has a place and she shares that place with 2 others as they weave the fibers of life.

In the Baltic she was Laima, unto herself; in Latvia, she was joined by two sisters. The Greeks called the sisters Morai, we know them as the Fates. The Norse knew them as Norns and the Celts as Matrones. The Anglo Saxons tell of the legend of the Wyrd. W-Y-R-D. And long before patriarchal worship of a single bi-polar absentee father-god, in the middle east there was Menat, the crone of Al Lat who ruled life and death.

Along with the maiden and mother, they wove birth, awareness and abilities, lifetimes and events. And ultimately it fell to the Crone to sever that thread, ending one life as her sisters worked to begin another.

After all, what the caterpillar calls the end, the butterfly knows as a beginning.

Known the world over and celebrated or feared, it is the Crone who stands at the crossroads of life and afterlife.

She winds and measures those threads of life, spinning and knotting. You see she knows that each age has its own melodies woven into the thread of its days. Ultimately though, it is the Crone who listens closely and when the time comes, ends one thread as her sisters continue to spin another.

So hear me now as I give you words to carry with you into the dark and beyond, for this is really all that matters. I say, “as you receive me in this moment, that you become aware that now is the only moment, the only instant, the only time that should be relevant to you. The past is behind you and although there are moments that are retained and meant for you to cherish, I say ‘know it is behind you.’ Your past carries weight in the present only because it has made a difference in what and who you are, but it is gone, it was then.”

Worry not about what may come, for the future is not here. You have not yet stepped into tomorrow. As you move about, take from the maiden her curiosity and know the passion of the mother. Make the changes at this moment that slowly manifest into your will and pay attention to each instant, as these particular transformations are not sudden. Enjoy it as it bubbles and begins to take hold. Life is meant to be lived in its own moments. To have apprehension of what is to come serves no purpose but to shorten the joy and perhaps even the thread. Let these thoughts not get in the way of the direction in which you are moving.

You are here, now, so pay close attention, I want you to remember that this is what counts. Where you are, what you actually think and actuate, what you do in this moment is what will lead to the next. The future you can only dream about, but the present, your ‘now’ is the only place where you can live, where you should never forget to live!

These moments of awareness and reverence, of first love and first loss, of awe and of impatience, relish them, for they will never come again. However, now, this very now, is all that counts. Pay attention and live with purpose.

Dance while you can to the music of now! Dance while you can.

My wish for you is that you may all live to boast 100 glorious years, but just in case you don’t, learn to live in the moment mindful that each breath you take is extraordinary.

 

Susan Grossman is a practiced ritualist in the Midwest Pagan Community immersed in the history and beliefs of the ancients with specific attention to folk and earth magicks and their practical use in every day life. An ordained priestess of the Re-Formed Congregation of the Goddess, International and faculty member and co-Advisor of the Women’s Thealogical Institute, she leads workshops on ritual, magick and feminism, is the creator of a feminist board game and is currently working on two books.

She lives in a suburb of Chicago with a cat that practices cord magick and a rock and roll parrot that loves rocking out to Aretha, Annie Lennox and the Stones.

Category: Winter Solstice 2018