A journey into the unknown is an on-going process of release. The old is no longer valid, but the new has not yet arrived. So, the only thing you can do is surrendering to the process. While being in that ‘chrysalis stage’ (no longer a caterpillar, not yet a butterfly) I had to let go of many things. Material things, routine habits and inner convictions, but also something far more precious: my youth.
// One morning, standing before the mirror, the shock stopped me in my tracks. I had to acknowledge the end of an era.
Entering my late fifties, I was facing uncomfortable truths. My body was changing, my hair graying, my figure softening, my skin thinning. Having no children, I had always looked quite young – born in April, it felt as if I would live in the spring of my life forever. I never worried about age, I assumed I would keep creating and discovering until my last breath. Yet, the signs of decline eventually manifested, and one day, standing before the mirror, the shock stopped me in my tracks. I had to acknowledge the end of an era. Having left my profession and my ‘successful’ or ‘active’ life behind – perhaps prematurely – I found myself in a restless emptiness. What now? I knew I shouldn’t obsess about extra pounds or sagging skin. My body was simply becoming more like my mother’s, the symptoms hereditary. I needed to accept the inevitable, wave goodbye to the maiden I had been for so long and the mother I never physically became, and face the ‘crone’ I was becoming – to embrace her, see her beauty, and recognize her gifts.
// There is a time of acquiring and a time of letting go. That truth was reflected in my own flesh.
There is a time of acquiring and a time of letting go. That truth was reflected in my own flesh. One can resist ageing – and even the concept of death – by wearing youthful clothes, toning your body, applying creams, botoxing your face or even having full plastic surgery. Men may choose hair implants, strenuous exercise, or younger partners. Some even design technologies to ‘counter’ death, dreaming of eternal life, through cloned organs, cryopreservation, or A.I. versions of themselves that ‘live’ forever. We can try to combat the evolution of time in multitude of ways – as any society fearful of death surely will – but in this time and space dimension, in the end we will have to accept that the ego we created and the bodies we inhabit will turn to dust.
We cannot eternally rise. Sooner or later, we will fall. Accepting the course of life is a profoundly feminine value. Historically women have been the ‘gatekeepers’ of the cycle of life, from birth to the preparation of death. They must accept the loss of fertility, youthful beauty, sex appeal, even their social standing, as the roles of grandmother and feminine elder have been devalued in patriarchal times. But after mourning that loss, if they remember the deep feminine values, they can rise again as wisdom-keepers and protectors of life – guiding the next generation until they are ready to hand over the world and grant themselves a well-deserved rest.
// I am intrigued by the transition my continent is undergoing. I watch the ‘downfall of The Old Lady’ and wonder what could inspire her rebirth.
Just like I had to let go of personal attachments to things, ideas and habits, or ultimately my youth, the world currently has to let go of some illusions it painstakingly built after World War II. America was shaken to its core with the re-election of Donald Trump as the president of the United States, and Europe has to accept its waning power, finding itself standing alone in a world increasingly led by wealthy oligarchs of other continents. As a European in heart and spirit, I am intrigued by the transition my continent is undergoing. I watch the ‘downfall of The Old Lady’ and wonder in which way it may be mirroring my own evolution – and perhaps the reverse: I wonder if the outcome of my own transition might somehow inspire her rebirth. But before we can rise from the ashes, we must both fully accept the loss of what once was.
If we look at the sine wave of evolution – what comes up must come down – we can predict that Western society, with its colonial arrogance towards the Earth and its people, will eventually face a decline. And because we have not learned how to surrender to life and its natural fluctuations, we are likely to dramatize the process instead of accepting it with dignity. A shame, because the ability to navigate loss gracefully is one of humanity’s inherent gifts. If we want to experience our collective decline with honor, much like a woman who chooses to age gracefully, we must cultivate humility and resilience. We must learn to turn personal losses into fertile ground for future generations. And that takes training.
Excerpt from: A Feminine Answer to Crisis / By ANNE WISLEZ.
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