Your Human Being

where Individual unites with Soul in a dance of love



Connecting with the Crone

When did we stop recognizing older women as goddesses? I’m just as guilty as the next person, although there have been a few I have revered, most I have ignored. Not today …

I had a new client, an older lady who I’d estimate to be at least 65. She hobbled down the hall, white hair and wire frame glasses standing out on her petite frame. When I walked in the room and saw her laying face down on the massage table, I could see a pool of extra skin surrounding her. Her kyphosis was prominent.

As my hands started working along the muscles of her back, I noticed she also had scoliosis. My thoughts turned to my teenage daughter, who also has scoliosis. Then I realized, this could very well be my daughter in 50-60 years. This older woman represented the evolution of a woman throughout a lifetime. She was a child, a teen, a lover, a mother, a leader, and now she’s what some call a Crone.

Blatantly disregarded because of her age, instead of honored for it. She has been through all aspects of life. Her ability to overcome has given her courage and strength; her suffering, grace and dignity; the lessons she has learned, wisdom … She has earned every wrinkle through her blood, sweat, laughter, and tears. But instead of finding a society that recognizes this, instead she has aged in a society that doesn’t support her. Dishonored, and surrounded by an array of women who recognize and fear this dishonor so much, they do everything they can to not age … or at least postpone it as much as possible.

I admit to sometimes becoming too attached to the slow loss of collagen in my own skin. I use eye cream from time to time … However, I hope and pray that as my life carries me on, I own my age with the grace and dignity of this, and other women. Crones are not to be hidden, they are the matriarchs, the elder goddesses.

And that’s exactly what I kept repeating to myself while massaging her … God bless this goddess.


trembling fingers

and open-toed shoes

She does not know who she is.

full of love

but throws it all to romanticism

I have the utmost hope for her.

she gives it up

before she understands

Ignorance can be bliss temporarily.

a heart ever broken

gathers strength over time

Inside her rests the heart of a lion.

worn to softness

by the churning tides

Soon she’ll learn how blessed she really is.

the goddess resurrects

time and again

She’s the golden essence of feminine beauty.

Time to Get Real

Even at age 39, I still find that I regularly feel wrapped inside myself.  I know inside me is a goddess that wants to be unleashed, ever-present in this life … And she definitely makes herself known.  I feel a shift every time … stepping outside my Self and into the Being of her … the fullness, wisdom, confidence, and sensuality that flows through me is beautiful, like nothing I’ve ever experienced.  The only experience that’s even come close has been the fullness of being in love, but even that usually comes with hidden fears or agendas.  The goddess knows no fear or agenda … it is a purity of existence.

I guess this wrapping/unwrapping of myself is an ongoing learning process.  And, it’s getting easier to identify when I’m wrapping … and easier to unwrap …

I’m certainly no longer afraid of dying, but have learned that I’m sometimes afraid of living.  (it’s easy to get used to the death/rebirth cycles in life)

I keep planting seeds, but have discovered I let them go and just keep casting more seeds instead of lovingly tending the ones I’ve already sewn.

It takes a lot of courage to own your shit and allow yourself to live beyond the self-created box which society loves to reinforce, but little by little – I’m tearing that sucker down.

Here’s to life, ya’ll!  May we truly exist in our authentic being-ness …



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