Crone in Corrogue: Wild Wisdom of the Elder Years

Glorying in the elder years, a time of spirituality, service and some serious sacred activism

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Crone With Crown

Croning ceremonies are a relatively new feature. As a mostly solitary spiritual practitioner, public ceremony is not my first choice for expressing momentous passages.  But 2016 pushed me out of my comfort zone. We had a wedding, a Big Fat Irish one that the Husband in Training had always wanted and which I had demurred. But having survived the wedding, I felt that I could do a croning ceremony via wifi and the World Wide Web okay. Apparently, 2016 was my year for rites of passage.  Like weddings, these things take a good deal of thought and intention to be pushed into them beforehand.

I already had a crown. Actually, when I turned fifty I thought I was 'ready.' I was not. I did not have an early post-menopause and the peri- phase lasted for the best part of decade. By the time I turned 50, I was in full flush. An Irish friend who now lives in Asheville, North Carolina, made this crown with loving intent. It includes Brighid's eternal flame and the phases of the moon. There are pearls of wisdom and turquoise to express it. It ties on with a tartan ribbon, a nod to the Celtic connection, but is also a deep royal blue, fit for a crone's crown. (Thank you, Liz for your artistry and spiritual intention. It was perfect when the time came!)

I just needed the coronation now. But before the fanfare is the prepation. Coronation is an anointing and a sacred vow.

Over that decade I deepened my connection with the Divine Feminine. I also had three surgeries in as many years and felt the first cold gale of aging. One may feel mentally 39, but cop on! Fifty is not the new thirty; I did not have hot flashes at thirty. Sixty is not fifty either. I do not take my body for granted now. I have learned to cherish it over this past decade for the sweet, mortal vessel that it is.

In the months between my wedding and croning I looked to 'spiritual sponsors' who would offer a virtual  supportive hand on my shoulder. At first I thought it would be a goddess, but as I read, meditated and prayed, two witch/wise women from the past came to the forefront and embraced me.

In my next blog I will tell you about encounters with my crone foremothers in spirit.

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Bee Smith has enjoyed a long relationship with SageWoman as a contributor, columnist and blogger. She lives in the Republic of Ireland, teaches creative writing and is a member of the Irish Art Council's Writers in Prisons panel. She is the author of "Brigid's Way: Celtic Reflections on the Divine Feminine."    

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