Tag: spirituality

Circle of Crones

Women elders creating healing spaces

Photo by razi pouri on Unsplash

I am lucky enough to volunteer at a local wildlife hospital. 

People bring in a variety of injured or ill animals. Recently it was baby bird season, where baby birds may fall out of nests, be attacked by other animals, or be injured in a variety of ways. 

The other day we noticed a baby blue jay simply sitting on the floor of his cage, not resisting any attempt to pick him up, not gaping (opening his mouth to accept food). 

We volunteers, mostly elders, and mostly retired women, talked about having noticed this bird and being concerned with his possible level of injury or illness. We came together to talk and took our concerns to the vet-tech in the treatment room and then filled out an FYI note to call their attention to this bird so that they would take a closer look at him sooner.

I stepped back for a few moments and watched the group gather around this bird. 

I felt a sense of awe at this circle of women, this group of elders, this gathering of crones, and the healing intention and power contained within. 

Here was this circle of feminine grace and love, a tapping into our connection to the earth, to its creatures and to each other, to feel how we can create a presence as we band together in the service of healing, to feel the power of this Sacred Circle of Crones.

Some of the benefits of crone-time in life

As elders, we have more time to stop and notice, more time to advocate and attend and collectively put our concern into action.

Yes, we can feel more invisible as we age, and so perhaps we can be quietly powerful and persistent. There is an unspoken bond, yet one that is strongly felt. There can be strength in invisibility, an ability to quietly do things behind the scenes, not seen as much and therefore not seen as a possible threat, not questioned, and not stopped. 

I could feel the connection among us as we hovered over this tiny creature. This was a collection of lives that have been spent caring and caregiving, relationship-keeping and teaching, and wisdom-keeping and sharing.

Our mission now seems to be to spread kindness where and when we can.

After many struggles, we have learned our own self worth and boundaries. We can embrace the word NO so as to be able to give a fuller YES. We can more fully inhabit our bodies now that they are no longer seen so much as objects. We can blend more easily into the background to better listen, observe, watch, learn, teach, and act.

What a gift it can be to be able to quietly sit and be, to be able to walk down the street in peace, to dress comfortably for ourselves, to direct our attention where and how we choose. We can give gifts as we declutter and realize the impermanence of everything always and fully embrace each precious moment as being all that there really is. We can embrace this crone time of life and all the gifts that it can offer to us and to others.

More crone wisdom

We can feel our regrets and realize that we need to let go of them.

We can finally learn that the one that we most need to forgive and heal is ourselves, and that we need to find the compassion and courage to be able to give this to ourselves. 

We can see others’ faces and see the feelings underneath.

We can make eye contact with kindness, depth, and love that all come from a lifetime lived. 

We can fully say hello with all of ourselves.

We can openly care without embarrassment, worry, or restriction. 

We can embrace our emotionality and sensitivity and begin to heal others and ourselves. Our kindness is not weakness, but rather strength. Compassion takes courage. Kindness can lead to action. Empathy takes courage. It takes courage to feel the pain of another, to allow ourselves to be immersed so as to understand, to reach out with that empathy and touch souls. 

A call to arms

This, it seems to me, is a time that the world desperately needs us, this circle of crones, this gathering of wisdom and compassion. Perhaps we can come together now, when we are most needed, and quietly begin to heal each other, the earth, its creatures. If not now, when? If not us, whom?

 I don’t know exactly how we can do this, but I do know that I believe it is up to us to take this on, to step up and demand the space to heal, to prove that love is stronger than hate. We can finally acknowledge and embrace the fact that we can and do have the boundaries and strength to fight when needed. We are kind, not weak. We are compassionate, not stupid. 

We are crones that are not to be discounted. We can be the healers of the world. We need to step into that role fully and completely, before it is too late. 

A Performance of Ageless Aloha 

A Hawaiian performance of music, dance, love, and hope

Photo by Documerica on Unsplash

Years ago, I used to dance the hula. It can be a sacred dance, not the Hollywood stereotype, but rather a form of prayer and homage to the earth, of love put into graceful motion. 

I loved it, felt honored to be among the dancers and the culture that spoke of this aloha, love, inclusiveness, respect for the power of nature and its beauty and of our mandate to take care of it. 

I am an elder now, and I have stopped dancing. But maybe…

Going to a performance (Popolohenu – Songs of Resilience and Joy) (created by my former teacher, Māhealani Uchiyama, Director, Mahea Uchiyama Center for International Dance www.centerforinternationaldance.org, which was this time a celebration of African American roots and contributions in Hawaii, was like going home. I immediately felt welcomed as we entered the auditorium, seeing everyone adorned with leis and flowers in their hair, smiling warmly at all who entered. 

The music began, and I was transported back. The performers, singers, and music all spoke of Hawaii’s rich history and the love that connects us all. The spirit of aloha is that…a welcoming love that reminds us of our connection to each other and our mandate to love each other, to care for each other, to appreciate each other, to include each other. 

Is there violence in Hawaiian history? Yes, there was a taking over of culture, as can so often happen when something new is discovered and immediately feared because of its differences. But it survived and came back. The strength, the ties, the family, the aloha that will not be silenced are all still very much alive. This spirit of aloha is stronger than hate, more resilient than divisiveness, more powerful than the forces that move us toward fear and suspicion. 

My friend and I sat transfixed as we watched and listened to the magic in front of us, mesmerized by unity and grace. Pride in history, the weaving of different cultures, and the interpretation of the beauty of life into music and graceful movement of dance touched our souls.  

There was a mixture, in both the performers and audience, of everyone, all races, genders, ages, sexual preferences, cultures…a lei whose colors beside each other were more beautiful than any one color on its own. The whole became greater than the sum of its parts. It reminded us that we are more together, stronger together holding each other’s hands, dancing together to the beat of the earth, the music of life, connected as a family. 

There was one group of dancers that was composed of older women. The grace in their movement and the joy that shone from their faces was a glow that could not be dimmed by the years. Beauty and grace transcend age. Stories told become richer with experience. Bodies still ache to move to the music to express their life within, the life force that remains strong, even if those bodies change. You could see the seasoned grace of who they were now and the timeless grace of the younger women that they had once been, the sacredness that was always there, that never dies, that never ages out of existence. Theirs was the season of wisdom.

The younger dancers had their own kind of beauty with deeper and more flexible movements that can take your breath away. Theirs was the season of life living, being, stretching, reaching, dancing. 

The final groups of dancers were the youngest, two adolescents, achingly beautiful. This was beauty starting to blossom, sensuality beginning to bloom, life yet to live, and an innocence about it all, movement that was easy and light. Theirs was the season of hope. 

They were all beautiful and all had their own gifts to offer, as each season brings its own beauty and gifts. Such is our life with each season. We can learn from them all. 

Singers honored the language of the islands, the love and connection to the earth, to family, to the spirit that is Hawaii, to the spirit that is us all. Performers included a grammy award winning singer and his husband, who danced to the songs….each acknowledging their deep love for each other and for the culture, a Black jazz singer with Hawaiian connections that added another hue to the rainbow with her melodic voice, rhythm, and own personal history, a father with his two sons, singing, drumming, and playing ukelele….a family legacy remembered, honored, and carried on. 

And somehow, we, the audience, were included in the feelings on that stage and were welcomed into the family. 

 This was a much-needed gift to receive during all the division and hatred that has been in our country recently. It was a breath of fresh air that brought tears to my eyes as I remembered that this is who and what we are. This is what we need to remember, to wake back up again. To be woke can once again be a good thing, if we remember. (I think it is time to claim back the word woke.) We need to be awake to the ties that connect us, to what bring us together in the tribe of humanity, awake to the power of love. Boundaries need to be set to protect this, yes, so that we do not lose our way again so easily. It’s not too late, if we wake up from this nightmare and trance of horror that has been currently sweeping our country and the world. 

Isn’t it interesting how something can be so much more than what you expected. A performance became a reminder and a call to action, a call to awaken, a call to dance once again with each other in a dance of love rather than war. 

I am so grateful. 

I may even go back and take some hula classes again and join that wonderful group of loving older women who remind us of all we have been, who we are, and what we can still be. We are still alive. We still have dance within us. We still have love within us. It’s time to use that love to begin to heal. 

And just like in this performance, maybe we elders can lead the way, begin the dance, remind us all of who we are deep within. We can be a beacon of light to lead the young, to teach, to console, to inspire, to remain steadfast, to keep fighting, to keep dancing, to keep living and keep loving…to be the best of who we can be. Perhaps Aloha can be our battle cry, our call to action. Being elders, we may not see the result, but we can lead the way toward it. It can be our final gift, the gift of ferocious love, the gift of the power of Aloha.