From Maiden to Mother to Crone
I’ve been thinking about my upcoming birthday (okay, it’s two months away) and the fact that my youngest is going to be a senior in high school this fall. After 27 years, my active parenting days are winding to a close. And I find myself wondering, what’s next? Who am I, if I am not a full time parent?
I’m going to be 46 in October. From my vantage point, it’s neither young nor old. In some ways it feels just right. I’m comfortable with myself. I like the person I have become. I have plenty of life experience to instill the right balance of confidence and prudence.
Biologically though….it feels like a hormonal dance (rave?) is happening inside me. Just like puberty, when you move from the spring of life into the summer, the move into the autumn of life (aka perimenopause) is marked by a lot of changes that are hard to ignore.
To put it less poetically, some days I am a hot mess. My uterus has no rules. Mood swings have taken on a whole new meaning. And I could take a nap at any point in the day.
But even with all the changes afoot, I’m excited. I am ready to leave the Mother phase of life and embrace the Crone (though, can’t we come up with a better name?).
From Maiden to Mother to Crone
I jumped from the Maiden to the Mother very quickly when I was 19. There was no time for me to really figure out who I was, before I was tasked with caring for another human being. Now though, the transition from mother to crone is slow and steady and full of discovery.
I feel like I’m standing at the gate between my younger self and who I am evolving into. Looking back I see a young mom with a baby on her hip and toddler or two in hand.
Then as a 30-something divorcee, figuring out how to balance work and tweens, and trying to figure out who I am outside of being a mother and (ex)wife.
To my forties, when grief and loss made their first impactful appearance in my life and I had to grow in ways that hurt beyond words and standing still was too painful.
To now, standing closer to 50 than 40. Silver threads are beginning to outpace the brunette curls. And the age spots on my cheeks tell the story of 40+ Maine summers.
I am simultaneously strong and soft. Strong in who I am, what I can handle, what I can give. Soft in the knowledge this journey has not been without its hurt and scars.
I’ve been thinking about this new stage with a kind of trepidatious delight. I loved having babies and raising kids. Even when it was at its toughest, I could still appreciate the beauty of watching your chicks fly on their own. But now, the promise of freedom from childbearing and active parenting beckons, and for the most part I am ready.
For me, embracing the transition to Crone is about embracing wisdom. I know enough now (finally) to recognize that I don’t know that much at all. I’m learning to be quiet and really listen for a change. I am happy to slow down. To really look at the world around me, without feeling the weight of it on my shoulders. I’m getting comfortable with letting go of the lifetime of accumulated emotional baggage. Of societal expectations. Of parenting responsibilities. Of pleasing people out of habit. Of always finding fault with myself.
And I am excited to see the person that emerges in this next phase of life.
What season of life are you in? What do you love about it? What are you ready to let go of?
The Joy of Missing Out
This past week the pinks and purples of irises, roses and lupin bid their farewells in my gardens. Now my hillside is in bloom with the tiger lilies and black eyed susan’s, their beautiful orange and gold colors signaling the most subtle shift toward autumn. Even though the heat and humidity of high summer is just now arriving in Maine, there is a sense of urgency to hurry up and enjoy the nice weather while we have it. The Wheel of the Year always seems to turn the fastest in the space between Litha and Lughnasadh.
I love summer, but often wonder if I am not doing it correctly. All my friends - online and IRL - seem to be enjoying an endless array of barbeques and camping trips and summer concerts. Meanwhile, I’m happy to be home, alone, writing, reading or puttering in the garden. I often wonder if I need more friends or need to make more of an effort to be social? I realize that what we see on social media is just a highlight reel of someone’s life, but every summer I still experience a twinge of FOMO. But at the same time, I’ve come to realize that I need a hefty dose of solitude to recharge, and summertime is no exception.
So, imagine my delight when I stumbled across the term JOMO this past weekend. JOMO stands for the Joy of Missing Out and Dictionary.com defines it as:
pleasure derived from living in a quiet or independent way without feeling anxious that one is missing out on exciting or interesting events that may be happening elsewhere
I liked the term so much, I wanted to share it as this week’s printable. I hope you like it!
Just to be clear, I am not a total hermit in the summer. Next week all my chicks are returning to the nest and I am very excited to have us all together again. We will have barbeques and campfires and there may be some singing involved. I’ll also visit the coast again later this month. But the rest of my summer is delightfully plan-less. And that is just fine by me.
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Sneak Peek New 2022-2023 Wheel of the Year Planner
Hello Friends,
I hope this finds you well. How was your Summer Solstice and Litha celebration? As I write this, it is a breezy beautiful morning that feels more like September than June. The trees are dancing wildly, as if excited for the day ahead. A cold snap is headed our way though, so I need to hustle to get out in the garden to do some pruning while the sun is still shining. I am very much a fair-weather gardener.
I left the mountains for the sea yesterday. My daughter and I took a ferry out to one of the island communities that dot Maine’s coast. I had never been on a ferry before. It’s a lovely way to travel - at least in the summer, when it’s all blue skies and ocean breeze. We had a good time exploring the small shops and walking around the different neighborhoods. Wild beach roses and lupin were everywhere, from manicured gardens to cracks in the sidewalk. As the saying goes, Bloom where you are planted.
This week I thought I would update you all on my 8 Things I’m Not Buying in 2022. At the beginning of the year I really wanted to focus on simplifying my life and doing things with more intention, and this no-spend list was sort of the kick off. And six months in, I’m pleased to share that I’ve done quite well. I made a huge dent in my stash of notebooks and other stationery and have not bought one piece of home decor yet this year….you can read the whole updated post here and grab the free Slow Living Thought List.
This week I thought I’d share a sneak peek printable of the upcoming 2022 - 2023 planner. I’ve gone in a kind of Forest Whimsy direction this year. I hope you like this sneak peak Lughnasadh Printable. More to come!
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