About twenty years ago, a younger friend gave me with a cd mix for my birthday. It was an assortment of whimsical songs. There is one that stuck with me called “When I grow up, I want to be an old woman” by Michelle Shocked.
Granted, I was not yet old at the time, but it sounded like a worthy aspiration and a humorous one, too. What middle-aged woman would not want to be an old woman?
It is not until I became old (currently 65-years-old – so young old) that I started to consider the word “old” in a sincere way.
I am unpacking the concept of old woman. There’s a lot to it.
On one hand, limiting stereotypes suggest that old means decrepit, useless, and in need of repair. Yet old is also used in reference to things of great value, like heirlooms and other treasures.
Living at the intersection of special care and high value is the essence of being an old woman for me.
Don’t we treat everything we hold in high regard with special care? Babies get special care. Valued possessions are displayed and tended with special care. And when our bodies age, they show signs of wear and call for special care.
Humans are more than physical bodies, though. While the body shows signs of wear, the spirit is ageless. Even young children have big spirits in spite of their small bodies.
When we age, if we have grown into our body and spirit, we can still experience a full life. A healthy body can be up for adventures. A healthy spirit enlivens our bodies, awakens our souls, and shines the light of wisdom wherever we go.
How do we take care of our bodies as we age? To begin with, by listening to them. If something calls our attention – a fluttering heart, a muscle cramp, or fatigue – stop and notice.
Do not ignore messages the body is sending. A lifetime of use provides information that can be heard only from within.
Our unique patterns of thoughts, emotions and actions leave their mark on our bodies. The sooner we respond to information about those effects, the better. We can make changes.
As long as we are living, we are capable of learning. While researching the concept of old woman I was delighted to come across the term “perennial”.
Aging women are forever plants – still relevant, alive, and blooming!
Valuing their blooms, we tend them. I listen to my body and make adjustments.
I have decided to embrace moderation: to rest when I am tired, engage in consistent not intense activity, and focus on the good things in life.
When we retreat to the lakehouse where the internet connection is spotty, I am grateful for the respite. There is no rush, no need to make things happen. For a perennial, there is no need for striving. Tending, but not striving.
Aging is not a handicap; it is a secret power when we choose to unpack negative stereotypes and discover the offering.
I have chosen to embrace an archetype to remain inspired at this time of life. The Great Mother archetype calls me.
“As the mother of mother, or grandmother, she appears as mentor, tutor, and bestower of magical gifts on both men and women in folktales from around the world. In Native American tales, the grandmother is an especially key figure, and here we find her as the most humanized depiction of the Great Mother, as the gentle and kindly, if exacting, person who teaches us to get along in the world.”
– Excerpt from Archetypes and the Great Mother by Madronna Holden
In my years of experience, the most important things I have learned are how to get along in the world or the ways of life. The task I have left is to share what I have learned. When I hold the aspiration of the Great Mother, the grandmother, the old woman, I know who I am and what I must do.
It does not mean denying myself the fun of playing with fashion and hairstyles, or outdoor recreation like bicycling and kayaking. A mature relationship to an archetype does not inhibit personal identity.
When I wear the archetype like a loose garment – it protects, identifies, and inspires. These are her qualities.
The Great Mother archetype is nurturing and powerful but not for the sake of power.
She is gentle and kindly, but also clear and firm.
Her insights are deep and her impact wide.
Accepting the inevitability of death, she participates in the natural cycles of life.
The archetype guides me to continue growing up to be an old woman still aspiring and becoming. Wearing that cloak, I am unafraid of growing old. I want to live the life, to be the old woman I imagined over twenty years ago.
I let go of what does not matter. The superficial wrinkles, spots and scars are a testament to years engaged in life.
An occasional flutter of my heart reminds me of the magical organ in the middle of my chest.
Resting allows for reflection and rewiring of my nervous system.
Wearing the mantle of the Great Mother, I embrace all children, parents and the social reforms needed to support their care.
That’s who I am today, still growing up to be an old woman.
One I call the Great Mother.
