The Maniacal Rantings of the Urban Crone

Bear witness to the rantings of the Urban Crone as she emparts her wisdom in her own rather quirky way.

Monday, May 27, 2013

She Danced....

It was the Saturday night fire at Heartland, wood stacked high and burning brightly in the circle like a beacon to the Gods. The young danced around the fire in the dance of sexuality and excitement. Mothers and grandmothers shared the dance with little ones, showing them the joy of being free. But, it was she who caught my attention and held me captivated.

She was lithe, almost too thin, her rib cage showing in a way that marked a life of very thoughtful care. Her small bare breast lay almost flat against her hard chest. She danced, thin arms raised and twining, body swaying rhythmically to the pounding heartbeat of the drums. She moved gracefully around the fire, the wind and the heat blowing and twirling through her long salt and pepper hair. And I was mesmerized by her.

As she glided around the fire, I instantly was filled with the feeling of Deity, of being witness to the Goddess moving before me. Not just the Goddess, my Goddess, the Crone incarnate, showing me age with grace in a way that I had never seen before in my lifetime. The Crone held me captive for quite some time as she made her way around the fire over and over, seeming to notice nothing but the fire as if she were moving in a space all her own. There was something beyond a peace and serenity about her. The glow upon her was not just the fire she danced around but the fire that burned within her.

As I watched her, witnessing the extraordinary divinity and grace of this Elder before me, I found something within myself. I found a renewed connection with spirit, and with the Goddess within me. I finally understood the Grace and Beauty of coming into the Crone phase of being, of moving in my own space, taking the beat that is given and not conforming but finding a way to incorporate that rhythm to who I am and how I choose to exist as I move around the Cosmic Fire of Life.

I still carry that peace with me, gifted to me by someone I do not know. I should have thanked her, and that is my only regret. But, I did not want to stir the stillness and serenity of her moment. I will carry her within me for the rest of my life, that image of the beauty and grace of the Crone, a gift that I hope to one day pass on to another.

Blessed Be….

Saturday, May 11, 2013

(My take on Mother's Day) "I told you so..."

Life is just too short. It really is. A large chunk of your life is spent as a kid with not a lot of control over your universe, well, not really. Your parents may give in to you, but, in the end, it will come back to bite you in the ass when you realize that isn't how life works, which brings us to the next chunk of your life. I like to call this the "I know absolutely everything, yet I am clueless what I want to do with my life" phase.
This phase is my freaking favorite to watch from the sidelines. Mind you, I was a total freaking idiot with no clue as to what the heck I was doing, but you couldn't tell me that because, yes, I knew freaking everything. And, of course my mother was right. She just was, and so is yours. Suck it up, Princess, because you will figure out one day that she really is right. And she is right because when she was your age, she was right there, messing up her own life with no clue. It is a vicious circle of life that nobody really escapes from (cue Lion King Music). The Gods have a sense of humor. Just freaking deal with it.
There is also this weird brief phase after all that, sort of a post apocalyptic lull, where, if you are lucky, you figure shit out and get to listen to your mother say "I told you so" a whole lot. Just suck it up and let her do it. She screamed bloody murder while pushing you out her vagina so she has earned a bit of your time, and some serious gloating points. So, whether she is standing right there with the bail money in hand, taking a moment to take advantage of your undivided, jail-cell-occupying attention, or stealthily waiting like some Karmic Ninja, stockpiling numerous "I-told-you-so's" just so she can spring them on you all at once while you are driving her to the doctors or to the store for toilet paper. You just need to shut up, pull your big girl panties up and just take it.
Because, there is something important that you need to understand. Moms aren't forever. I am fortunate enough to have my mom still, who really likes to say "I told you so" a whole lot. But, there are people out there without moms, who wish there mom was still there to bust their balls about something epically stupid they did. It is one thing to do something epically stupid and then have the torture of listening to your mother tell you just how epically stupid it was, but it is monumentally worse to do something epically stupid, and be met with a momless silence.
So, this Mother's day, don't just give your mom a card, or flowers, or a car (well, you can buy her a car, that would be ok), give her time, that wonderful, golden, fleeting gift of your time so she can tell you just how completely you have wasted your life and you could have done something so much more awesome than becoming a doctor who cures cancer in kids or a supreme court justice (you know you could have done better, slacker). Listen to it. Take it in with all the love and adoration you can muster, and even thank her for showing you that being a rich and famous writer is such a dead end job, you are going to find something much more worthy next week. This is what she wants because, to her, time equals love. Time is the real currency of the mothers of adult children. It is always too late when the adult child realizes that it goes both ways, that time with her is their currency too.
And, if your mother is no longer with you (and I am truly sorry for your loss), take a moment and think of every time she told you, "I told you so," and send her a loving thank you from your heart. She will hear you because she is still watching, still tallying up all those epic mistakes you continue to make with your life, even finding little ways to smack you in the back of the head when you cross too far over that line. And she is stockpiling some good material for when you meet again, in the great beyond, so she can take your hand, kiss your cheek, and say... "I told you so."
Urban Crone