The Worth of Elder Women

I see them in the locker room, skin hanging loosely off fleshy thighs that giggle with each swipe of the towel, or with skeletal frames, whose weight and mass reflects the ravages of aging, the elder women among us. Post-workout sweat staining my tights, I move too quickly through the room, spilling a random selection of toiletries onto the floor, my discomfort in stark contrast to their apparent ease.

It is impossible not to notice the way they sympathize over this or that ache or pain, how they champion each other, or commiserate over some family drama, sharing an understanding of what it means to be a woman the world would judge as past her prime. They are gracious and go about their business, smiling and nodding, without a hint of self-consciousness, which is not the case with those of us who are younger, primping and preparing for the workday.

They are on average, twenty years my senior, and I am well along the path of middle age. In the throes of the morning rush, it is obvious that younger women look one another over, scrutinizing proportions, clothing, choice of footwear, make-up, anything that could place a stranger in a certain pecking order. Why do we do this, and overlook, or dismiss altogether, the wise ones because they are grey, soft, and worn?

It didn’t used to be this way. In ancient times, the social structure was very different. The eldest among us were upheld as firekeepers, matriarchs whose knowledge and experience was sought out and revered by all ages and genders. The Oracle of Delphi is one example, where the sibyl had to be an older woman of “blameless life” chosen from among the peasants of the area, the archetypal Crone, the most feared and least understood of the three aspects of the goddess.

Consider, for a moment, what these elder women represent as The Crone aspect of the goddess: “She deals with death and the end of cycles ... is winter, night, outer space, the abyss, menopause, wisdom, counsel, the gateway to death and reincarnation, and the Initiator into the deepest of mysteries and prophesies". Her role was to “eschew imbalance and, with both love and sadness for any pain experienced in the process, was the one who meted out justice. She provided guidance in the search for truth. Having lived long and experienced much, the Crone accepted the responsibility to distill what had been learned into wisdom that could be shared.” 2 (Becvar, D. (Summer 2005). Tracking the Archetype of the Wise Woman/Crone), ReVision (Vol. 28, Issue 1), Heldref Publications)

What an invaluable resource to squander! Back in the locker room, I squirmed out of my leggings, wrapped myself in a towel, and was picking my brushes and bottles off the floor, when I realized that I had forgotten my conditioner. I must have cursed because one kindly elder noticed my panic, and offered not only to help me sort my things, but also, to use her conditioner. I said thank you and held out my hand. She smiled sweetly and gave me the entire bottle before walking away.

I invite you to contemplate all of the mentors and meaningful relationships you have with women of advanced age, or even the simple encounters that have affected you in a positive way. Perhaps if we take a moment to thank them, appreciate their gifts and notice their ways, we will be enriched even more than they are. I also ask you to summon the courage to consider your own notions of aging, fears and/or misgivings about the last decades of your life, and while doing so, reflect more deeply on what we can learn from the wise women among us.