Becoming a Wise Woman is Not What You Think

What do you see when you imagine the Wise Woman?

In the 13 Moon Mystery School, we are currently working with the Goddess Archetype of the Wise Woman. In the past few months we've worked with several archetypes that were beyond challenging. Surprisingly, I've stepped into this archetype to find ease and greater understanding. This ease comes not from identifying so much with the wise woman, as much as it comes from all of the work we have done these previous 8 months breaking down our belief systems, ego identifications, and attachments. And also just being older. Raising a child to adulthood. Having had experiences that have cut me to my core, broken me beyond what I thought could be repaired. And yet here I stand. I did not die--even if I wanted to. I even find that we are powerful.

Let's face it. It’s an uphill battle to love ourselves in this world. To love our bodies and the lines on our faces. To see the grey creep into the hair (even if you color it). The hardest parts of my life have been when I was clinging to what once was, or to the idea of something that was no longer necessary. When I would cling to a person, rather than the type of relationship I wanted. When I wanted to control the way something happened or control the way what I wanted came to me, or decide ahead of time what it looked like when it showed up. These are the things that have caused me the most suffering in my life.

Part of this clinging is the idea of youth. I could say that society values youth, blah blah blah. But 'society' is made up of individual people. I'm one of them. And it was me, who believed that youth was valuable. I once believed that if I was not young and beautiful, I would not be valued. I would not be seen or heard or cared about. I was thin as a teenager and in my early 20's, but a roundness has been a part of my life since my child was born. My breasts became larger during breastfeeding, my hips grew 11 inches after giving birth, and I never slimmed back down. I tried in vain to get back to my pre-mother size and weight, to no avail. My 30's were where that turn of the tide of youth started to happen in the smallest of ways, and yet were certainly the hardest years of my life. The quality of my skin changed, lines appeared around my eyes, lumpy cellulite showed up on my thighs and rump. And I was in the world of belly dance and burlesque as my profession.

I also didn't care enough to starve myself, to workout endlessly, to obsess about my face. There was something inside that told me that what was happening was natural and that trying to stem the tide of my aging was a sin. A denial of who I was, and a rejection of all that I had been and been through. I was also blessed often by the praise of women performers who found my curves beautiful and delicious. However, at the end of my belly dance career (and subsequently the end of my marriage), I had been depressed and any sensuality that I had stifled beyond reach. I'd forgotten who I was. I was a shell with the face of who I used to be.

When I moved here 8 years ago, I was shut down. I disliked my body, and couldn't find harmony in my outward appearance. It’s taken all this time to allow my body to awaken. To heal my hurts and let my heart reopen. To learn (remember) that sensuality comes from inside, and requires no outside input or recognition. To allow myself to remember how to flirt. To allow attention to come to me without running in fear, or running toward it in desperation. It’s taken all this time to settle into this current body. To love the arms and legs in their flabby state. To see this belly in the mirror, and touch it with love and reverence, knowing that it will never look the way it once did. To look in the mirror and see the crow’s feet by my eyes. Only now I see that these lines naturally make the shape of the cat-eye liner I would work so hard to create. The round softness of my body makes it possible for another to melt into a hug. That my breasts are a place to rest a sorrowful head and feel comfort.

I've come back to the love of this vessel. When I see my face in the mirror in the morning and smile, the dancing eyes dare me to be open today. When I begin my yoga practice, I listen to my body the way it is right now, hearing what needs tending, marveling at what is stronger, feeling into what is developing.

This body is Wise. This shape is full of stories and wisdom. As the dual nature of my mind blurs through my works, and the Union of Opposites creates ecstasy in my soul, I rejoice. I give thanks. I see that one day I will have wrinkles beyond number and flesh that no longer obeys my commands to be firm and supple. I look forward to being such a creature, whose active and playful spirit belies the vessel that carries it. May the Wise One in us all prevail, and may we be in life the wisdom keepers that we seek in our ancestors.

With love,
Ginger {aka Rachel Lazarus}
February 23, 2018, Cult of Gemini Newsletter