What I’m Grateful For: Becoming A Crone & Beams of Love
I am grateful for birthdays, other people’s and my own. Grateful for rituals and reminders that we're here, right now, filling this space, breathing this air. Aging, yes. But this beats the alternative!May is my birthday month, and this year I embraced my sweet aging self in a way new to me. I invited a few friends to my Crone Party.
The Birth of an Idea
It started with a casual phone conversation. Happy Birthday month, said Kris. Thank you! Thank you very much, I replied with a smile I’m sure Kris could hear on the other end of the call. I love that my friends remember my birthday, and I love that Kris and I were born the same year, just weeks apart. What do you plan to do to celebrate? Kris asked. I paused. I hadn’t thought to do anything. But because Kris asked, I realized I could plan a party or something. And with a few more pauses and a few more words I decided to mark this year with something special.
Celebration Intentions
A week or two before talking with Kris, I’d attended a great memorial service. The kind where the church is full, a variety of friends and relations share memories, people laugh, cry, nod, smile. I left thinking: I want to live a rich life that is remembered like that. I want a group of dear people to tell stories about our travels, our shared experiences, our meaningful connection. And I want to know about it while I’m still here! Because of the memorial, I knew I wanted storytelling and celebrating life while knowing how this all is going to end. What I wanted was a Crone Party. For a quick overview of the reclaiming of the word Crone, click HERE. Many thanks to the psychologist Jean Shinoda Bolen.I wanted to sit with people I trust deeply. I began making my guest list.
Smooth the Way
I love having people in my home. I am not confident hosting. I wanted to enjoy the evening without worrying about enough room, comfy seats, table settings. Where to have the gathering? How could I smooth the way? My daughter had celebrated her natal day at the home of friends. Inspired by her example, I reached out to a friend on my guest list; she makes hosting look like fun. Yes, we could gather at her home! What a gift.I sent out a save-the-date text. Then I crafted and sent this invitation.
Oh, Friendship
Oh, the gift of good people! Friends who, over time, make it clear that they see us, they hear us, they value us exactly as we are. People who believe the best of us. Who offer us a soft place to land when the hard truths of life, of our own fragile humanity leave us gasping. People who walk with us when we do not have our shit together, do not feel we are enough, and forget that we do not have to prove we are worthy.I spent an evening with just such people. They filled me up until my cup overflowed. I’ve been savoring the experience for days.
Bear the Beams
My Crone Party felt subversive, like dancing on the grave of the lie that tied me down and gave me grief for years. As many of you know, I grew up believing I was unfriendable; that if anyone knew how flawed I was, they would turn away in utter disgust. Because of this gathering, I better understand the words of the poet:
We are placed on this earth for a little space of time to learn to bear the beams of Love." ~ William Blake
After the Crone Party, I stayed home for a day or two to process what I'd received. Deeply nourished by the shared memories, affirmation, laughter, tears—the expressions of love—I needed time to ponder and savor.Accustomed to indifference, surface conversation, or bracing oneself for criticisms small and large, receiving a dose of pure kindness, connection, and love calls on unfamiliar emotional muscles. I needed quiet and stillness as my soul soaked up the goodness. I paused to learn to bear the beams of love.
Redeeming Stories
All of this happened as I continue in the studio, thinking of and making work for my thesis show. And I wonder, What tone do I want for this show? Is there a twist? A bit of humor and light? To make this art, I’m excavating painful family of origin issues, memories of a difficult childhood. Do I use my work to exorcise those demons and leave it at that? Or, do I go further? Is there a way to bring the subversive Crone into this work?Can I redeem the stories? And if I redeem them, how does that look? Honestly, I’m leaning toward exorcism without the twist. I’m not proud of that. It is so not wise Crone, but it is true. At last I’m the one telling the story. I have a voice and a platform. Part of me, more than half, would like to take advantage of all of this and get even. Go on record as a child who survived.
Croning my Art
Something in me would like to act like a wise Crone, be the sage who finds the good even in the bad. Or at least want to discover a redemptive twist, a bit of humor, a glint of light. But I cannot force that. Forced art looks forced. Redeemed stories are not forced stories.I have a year to figure this out. If you think of me from time to time, please hold me in the light on this question of finding a redemptive twist for these stories. And coming to a place where I want to redeem them. Thank you.As I move closer to the show, I will continue to write about my process. For now, this series and this school term are almost over. Here's a reminder of the prompts I'm using:
- How I'm practicing my faith
- What inspires me
- What I’m grateful for
- What I’m trusting
Let’s meet here next week to finish. Grateful for your company. If you'd like to see pictures from the Crone Party, click HERE.