A Dream of Crones March 29, 2011

It’s spring break in Florida and we’ve been at the beach with our children and grandchildren. This special time with my youngest loved ones has reminded me of my grandmothers and prompted me to write about how older women are currently viewed.

My grandmothers were not famous or brilliant or unusually talented. They were no different from other small-town, mid-western women of their generation; as teachers, they were perhaps a tad more well-educated than some, a little less sophisticated than others. They were not particularly insightful about themselves or wise in the ways of the world, but despite their learned preferences for masculine values and a masculine God, deep within the rich sub-stratas of their feminine grounds dwelled strong archetypal Queens with impeccable integrity; fiercely nurturing Earth Mothers whose alignment with the rhythms of nature taught them how to care for their families; Wisewomen with wonderful imaginations, understanding hearts, and respect for mystery; and beautiful Beloveds who knew their true worth to their families, friends, and God. Because my grandmothers loved me, they shared their wisdom and passions with me.

The lives of many, if not most of us were touched and shaped in important ways by the elder women in our families or neighborhoods. Yet, as a society, we rarely give credit to the crones or sing their praises in any public way. Indeed, in the West where youth is worshiped, the older a woman gets, the less visible she becomes. Respect for the Goddess archetype in her aspect as Crone may have disappeared from the Western world, but she remains a reality within the psyche. Many people who carefully attend to their inner life report experiencing significant encounters with wise old women, especially in dreams, but also in waking fantasies and visions. Jungians interpret these as important indications of the ego’s willingness to accept the guidance of the unconscious feminine.

The tenth dream I recorded after making the life-changing decision to take my inner life seriously indicated that I was beginning to understand the significance of the feminine unconscious. Here is an important part of that dream:

Dream # 10A: Gifts From the Crones. I am visiting a foreign, forbidden place, like a kibbutz. I feel guilty and afraid and know I will have to sneak out illegally. Dorene [a wise and admired professor friend in waking life who is married to a Jewish man] is working here. I have brought gifts for her. She is accompanied by three or four older women, grandmothers perhaps. They are sitting cross-legged on the floor dressed in flowing, earth-colored, ethnic-looking clothes. Plump and solid, with heads wrapped in turbans fashioned from natural fibers, they seem serene and benevolent. To my delight, they hold out gifts for me — small, loosely woven bags overflowing with sweet-smelling herbs and spices. I say their gifts to me are so much better than mine to them and know it to be true. I look forward to using them in the future. I want to avoid the guards at the check point at the train station, so I leave by sneaking in the back door of a dark theater and crawling through on my hands and knees. I am nervous about this surreptitious avoidance of the authorities, but full of confident, decisive energy.

Although I didn’t understand the full import of the dream at the time, today it seems very clear. Next time I’ll share my associations with it. Meanwhile, I’d love to hear yours!

The Alpha Mare April 18, 2010

The archetypal Crone represents many valuable qualities. One of these, leadership, is aptly symbolized by the Alpha mare. In herds of horses, the leader is almost always a mature mare. While the stallion is the physically strongest and most aggressive male who mates with the females and protects himself, his herd, and his territory by keeping intruders away, he is not the wisest, most trusted horse in the herd nor is he the dominant leader who makes the others feel safe and secure.

The Alpha mare does not command respect because she is youngest, prettiest, most charming, physically strongest, or the stallion’s favorite, but because her age and vast experience have made her confident, mentally strong, and savvy in the ways of survival. The other horses follow her because she makes wise decisions. She socializes the younger horses and teaches them to be obedient, leads the herd to food and water, and guides it to safety when threatened by predators. Of all the horses in the herd, male and female, young and old, the Alpha mare is the one who knows best how to preserve the species.

There was once a time when groups of people sat at the feet of Crones, respectfully seeking their guidance and benefitting from their wisdom. The Cheyenne tell a story about “The Old Woman of the Spring” who gave them the buffalo and horse and taught them to plant corn.

In the tale “Grandmother Spider Steals the Sun,” Spider Woman brought the sun, fire, and art of pottery-making to the Cherokee. Old Salt Woman gave the Cochiti the magical blessing of salt, in the form of some of her own flesh, to make their food taste better.

The Brule Sioux say that when a grandmother prayed for a sacred herb to save the Comanche nation, a spirit told her where to find Grandfather Peyote and how to use it. She brought it back to her people and gave them the ceremony, and from that moment on, they learned to know themselves.

The Tiwa tell of Apache Chief to whom Spider Old Woman gave special medicine and Gopher Old Woman gave secret knowledge that helped him retrieve his lost wife. Such stories speak to the reverence native peoples had for the elder women whose lengthy life experience and intimate relationship with nature sacralized their lives and improved their chances for survival.

As the Sky God replaced the Earth Goddess as our primary source of spiritual guidance and meaning, our respect for Crone wisdom diminished in many parts of the world. At the individual level this is occasionally justified. Certainly, not every grandmother has feet at which one would necessarily want to sit! Generations of being separated from all that feels sacred to women has turned some of them into the very worst examples of feminine shadow. These are the wicked witches we hear about in fairy tales, and they should be avoided like poison lest they spread their toxicity to us.

But there are also some Alpha mares out there. We need to seek out these examples of the positive, empowered Crone, for they hold vital secrets that could help us maintain the delicate balance between societal preservation and annihilation.

Going Gray April 14, 2010

Have you noticed that gray is the in color these days? I’ve been seeing it everywhere: women’s clothing, jewelry, purses, shoes, furniture, fabrics, paint, cars, kitchens, bathroom fixtures. Suddenly, gray is the new gold.

The gray I’m loving most is the soft, silvery, salt-and-peppery gray of women’s hair. Especially my own. My love affair with gray hair originally came about by necessity – I started going gray in my twenties and quit fighting it in my mid-thirties – but its inevitability doesn’t diminish its beauty for me.

In a society where the word “beauty” refers primarily to external manifestations of youth, where aging is seen as an enemy and authenticity is regularly sacrificed for appearances, the emergence of strong and healthy elder women who are comfortable going gray is an accomplishment to be celebrated. In her book, Wise Women: A Celebration of Their Insights, Courage, and Beauty, Joyce Tenneson does just that.

The women featured in these extraordinary photographs – some, like Jessica Tandy and Dame Judy Dench are well-known, others are not – are images of the Wisewoman archetype, also known as the Crone. This is not the witchy crone of fairy tales, but one of the three faces of the Goddess celebrated in ancient Greece. The other two were Maiden and Mother. Together they symbolized the phases of a woman’s life.

The archetypal gray-haired Crone represents the ageless feminine wisdom in us that is not fooled by appearances, fads, or conventional thinking. She knows there is nothing inherently unattractive about gray hair or wrinkles. Is a smooth sapling more beautiful than a gnarled oak draped in graceful folds of gray moss? Is an unlined pebble inherently more attractive than a boulder etched with intricate networks of ancient fissures? Is the deeply seamed skin of an elephant less amazing than that of a sleek shark?

As one who has reinvented herself during every stage of  life and resurrected herself after each death, Grandmother Crone reminds us to honor our own authority;  to willingly learn the lessons of each change in role or circmstance;  to face the mystery of life’s transformative cycles with openness and curiosity;  to trust each loss to bring unexpected blessings and each death to contain the seeds of rebirth.  Her presence among us is a gift.  Her attentiveness affirms us;   her vulnerability strengthens us;  her gentle return to the innocent wholeness of childhood bathes us in tenderness;  her relish of each small blessing of taste and touch, sight and sound reawakens our senses to wonder.

I like the sun god’s gold, but when the rising moon softens my part of the world with her dappled gray shadows I hear the gray wolf howling, see the horse returning to the stable, feel the doves coming home to roost. Could our new appreciation for gray’s softer tones symbolize an imminent coming home to our true natures?  A growing tolerance for change? An emerging willingness to seek peaceful solutions in neutral zones between black and white ideologies that have polarized us for millenia?  Is gray, like the Crone who wears it proudly on her head, becoming a new symbol of wisdom and consciousness?

I like to think so.