We are at the Equinox already – Spring for those in the North, Autumn for those in the South. This the point of global balance, with light and dark spread equally across the world. As I live in the North, my thoughts are of Spring—when seeds begin to feel the warming rays of longer daylight. When trees bud and buds swell to blossoming, offering beauty to the eye and scents for the nose.
It might seem incongruous for these images of youth and fecundity to trigger the musings of a crone, and yet they do. Not, as you might imagine, of days gone by or of what once was. No—it is not nostalgia that feds my thinking. I’m thinking of what it means to age audaciously; that nature cannot survive without juicy elder females.
Humans—particularly we modern types—tend to think of life as linear. We are born, we have our childhoods, we transition into various stages of adulthood and then if we’re lucky, we get to age. Then, of course, we die. This linear view of life is narrow and egocentric. Take a step back and life can be seen as it really is – cyclical and interconnected.
What could be more natural than aging? What could be more vital to nature than that which ages? Seeds don’t just happen; they emerge from fruit. That fruit ripens fully to the point that it falls from the tree, vine, or stalk and as it decomposes, it provides nutrients for the seeds it produced. And therein lies the promise of the next generation.
Birds might eat the fruit or seeds. Toxic chemicals might prevent the growth of young seedlings. A cold snap might kill the potential of fragile blossoms. A storm might strip a plant of fruit or drown its roots. But locked safely inside the husk of old fruit lies the promise of survival.
The same is true for humans. We crones hold wisdom from experience; we have perspective based on longevity; we have stories from our elders that are as true today as then and on into the future. By the very fact of our being, we have proven our resilience, tenacity, and strength.
Our roots are deep.
Seeds, flowers, and fruit serve a purpose, you might say. Yes, they do. But none of these midwifes the next generation. That is the function of the aged, “past its prime” fruit. And this is the cycle of life. Not linear, cyclical. Generation after generation. And this is why nature, including humanity, cannot survive without juicy elder females. Stay juicy, crone!
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