Nancy Lankston
She who reconciles the ill-matched threads
of her life, and weaves them gratefully
into a single cloth—
it’s she who drives the loudmouths from the hall
and clears it for a different celebration
where the one guest is you.
In the softness of evening
it’s you she receives.
You are the partner of her loneliness,
the unspeaking center of her monologues.
With each disclosure you encompass more
and she stretches beyond what limits her,
to hold you.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
☽☾
#SelfLove
Hecate, the goddess of the crossroads, is the Crone. The crossroads in Europe still have little cairns where people drop their stones in honor of the goddess. Those cairns have always been the places of Hecate. The crossroads represents a place where consciousness is crossed by the unconscious, in other words, a place where you have to surrender your ego will to a higher will. The Crone has gone though one crossroads after another. She has reached a place of surrender where her ego demands are no longer relevant. This is the positive side of the Crone. She is a surrendered instrument and therefore detached.
Detachment doesn’t mean indifference. It means she has been there. She has suffered, but she can draw back from the suffering. A conscious person in the presence of an unconscious person’s pain may suffer more than the unconscious person. So, it’s not that she doesn’t suffer. It’s not that she’s indifferent or withdrawn. She’s right there, totally present. She’s got nothing to lose.
She can be who she is and live with the straight, flat-out, naked truth. Therefore the Crone acts as a tuning fork in an environment because she is so real herself. She rings a true tone. People are brought into harmony with that tuning, so it’s very releasing. People can respond to their own true tone. The Crone can afford to be honest. She’s not playing games anymore. She brings people into that soul space where all outer conflicts dissolve and they can experience their own essence.
She has nothing to lose. Who she is cannot be taken away from her. She has no investment in ego. Therefore, there is no power operating. She’s the kind of person you can honestly talk to, profoundly trust. She has no reason to persuade you to do anything or be anything other than who you are.
I would think of her masculinity as being very discerning, with no sentimentality. She would be able to cut with a well-honed sword. She would be able to see what is no longer essential to life, a relationship, for example, that has become destructive. She would perceive it, see through to the heart of it, and cut where necessary, but cut with love. I always envision her wielding a golden sword with a silver handle. All the perceptivity of gold, but handled with the love of silver. The masculine and feminine together. She has the kind of wisdom that takes life with a grain of salt, smiles at the divine comedy….
I have known four or five Crones, two of them men. I have gone to them when I thought I couldn’t go any further. Their love was palpable. No advice. Simply being, saying almost nothing. I knew I was totally seen and totally understood.
They could constellate my own inner healer because they could see me as I am.
~ Marion Woodman
🌙
Image: Night Woman / Crone Tree
by Carolyn Hillyer
Let us bless the imagination of the Earth.
That knew early the patience to harness the mind of time,
Waited for the seas to warm, ready to welcome the emergence
Of things dreaming of voyaging among the stillness of land…
Let us thank the Earth that offers ground for home
And holds our feet firm to walk in space open to infinite galaxies.
Let us salute the silence and certainty of mountains:
Their sublime stillness, their dream-filled hearts.
The wonder of a garden trusting the first warmth of spring…
The humility of the Earth that transfigures all that has fallen of outlived growth.
The kindness of the Earth, opening to receive
our worn forms into the final stillness.
Let us ask forgiveness of the Earth
For all our sins against her:
for our violence and poisonings of her beauty.
Let us remember within us the ancient clay, holding the memory of seasons,
The passion of the wind, the fluency of water, the warmth of fire,
The quiver-touch of the sun and shadowed sureness of the moon.
That we may awaken to live to the full the dream of the Earth
Who chose us to emerge and incarnate its hidden night in mind, spirit and light.
~John O’Donohue
♡
For all the women and girls who told the truth and were not believed.
The Beloved has no body now on Earth but mine.
The Beloved has no hands on Earth but mine,
The Beloved has no feet on Earth but mine,
Mine are the eyes through which the Beloved
streams compassion to the world.
Mine are the feet with which the Beloved is to go about
healing, loving, and serving all beings now.
Mine are the hands with which the Beloved is to bless all beings.
~ Saint Teresa of Avila
☾☽
(adapted for every tradition by Andrew Harvey)