2 March 2019

Struggling with aging!! Can we begin to find this beauty in this process that comes to us all. So much longing from myself to hold onto the younger, pert, less lined self. The one that was a size 8 and fit to boot! 

The in-betwixt where one is not that, not yet a crone. Never a mother. Learning to be the Queen. I wonder if aging is different for those with children? (Yes; sensitive topic). With having birthed and with all blessings raised a child to adult hood there is a natural rite of passage into aging as you witness aspects of yourself growing into their fullness of being. Those of us that are childless through choice or not and I speak for myself can potentially look at this aging process with different eyes. 

I know myself I feel like I missed a certain part of my growth into adulthood by not being a mother in the traditional sense. My body did not undergo that incredible and alchemical process of nesting and birthing a child. Yet, I birth projects, I have a certain ‘mother’ role in other areas of my life. Do I feel I missed something? Yes. Sometimes I do. My body does for sure. At this cusp in life where I am approaching menopause it gives me strong signals and yearnings that ‘it isn’t too late’ I could still conceive’. However, I know this isn’t my path in this life for many reasons. It does bring home this longing however for youth. Yes, I am wiser than I was but I miss my body, my health, my ability to move more quickly. 

Yet. There is a slowing, a wisdom, a ‘no BS’ zone that is strong, feelings of self-worth are present more now than ever, the knowledge that I have something to offer the world. Yet. Yes. I still miss my youthful looks there is a certain amount of shame to these lines on my face and sag of my breast. ‘Oh no one will find me attractive’ ‘I’m too old for love’ etc etc. These things actually pierce my head and brig a tear to my eye as for the moment they are real. They are stories I live with that I am shifting and rewriting. They are narratives handed down by generations. They are a weaving in a fabric that is toxic to many of us. 

So, as I rewrite my stories and learn to fully accept myself now I remind myself to be gentle. That it has taken all the work. All the heartbreak. All the vulnerability and showing up to bring me to a point of being able to write and not worry so much about looking a fool. But to write from the heart the words many will resonate with. But few will speak. It’s time my loves to speak up. Write out. Dance and pray for ourselves and our planet. Our humanness. To be human is to have feelings and to age. We are not here to hide and YES, we are here to learn. 

So, to this I surrender and ask for some more grace 🙏