Crone Wisdom

My elder. My self. If I ever were to need council, I would hope to find this woman depicted here. Perhaps if I am lucky, I will become her.

“So tell me where it hurts.” said the wise one, settling deeper into her chrome and leatherette chair in the sun dappled kitchen.  The open window allowed the soft sounds of the morning to spill into the room providing background music to their shared reverie.   Before her sat the defeated visage of a girl in the throes of something sad and most unkind.  Eyes framed in deep lines; kind and gentle, but with the faded sheen of advancing years, scanned the form of the one before her.  She noted a slight defeated listing of shoulders, a juncture of ankles crossed in an effort to contain, and soft hands resting in seeming nonchalance; made a lie by the tightening of skin and muscle which spoke of tensions held in check.  

“So tightly contained and managed.” she mused.  “So much within threatening to spill over.”  Would that this girl just release, allowing what she tried to hide to simply ebb; spilling itself onto and along the seams of the faded linoleum squares of the kitchen floor.  Where it could then be cleaned and scrubbed and made unimportant.  This was her wish for her - this broken girl.

The old woman reached out with the strings of her heart, prodding and poking in order to find the soft and bruised spots, covered up by hardened determination and self-sufficiency.  She sighed at this child of contradictions.  So much boldness and strength was here.  She alone knew the cracks and the breaks that were hidden beneath the surface, and within the deeper layers below.  She knew this child as well as she knew herself.  Always had.  

The brown eyed girl shifted slightly in discomfort.  “It hurts everywhere, and nowhere.  All at once.” she said softly.  There was an inflection of defeat in the tone that only the old woman could hear.  “I did it good to myself.”  she continued.  “I asked for this.  And now that I am here, I hate that I did.  I hate myself for it.”  With this a lone tear slipped from the girls eye, and made a slow trail down a cheek stained red with shame.

“Nobody signs up to get hurt purposefully.” scoffed the old woman.  “It just happens sometimes.  Such is the way of loving.”  she continued.  Placing her hand over one of the girl’s, she looked into the girls eyes with empathy, “We can no more control the hurt than we can those that bring it to us.   Sometimes it just comes of its own accord.  Just as does the love.  It’s a price we may or may not have to pay for the good we get of it.”

Deep within the girl, something shifted softly, and she moved in her chair slightly, allowing room for it to settle.  Slowly she released the breath she was unaware she’d been holding.  She was here.  Safe... finally.  Able to be herself genuinely and one hundred percent.  It felt so good to simply be this, and nothing more.  To give herself room to feel without having to judge herself.  Here she could pull out everything she held back and lay it out on the cracked and peeling kitchen table. In a jumble or in tidy piles, it didn’t matter.  What mattered was that in this place she felt safe. She felt loved and was given honor without question, motive or intent.  Here was where she could feel she was seen without being frightened by what that may mean to others.

Author's Note

There is more to this... but it ends here for now.

Reviews

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Great visuals and great story telling. It had plot and substance. When you add substance to writing it gets that much better. It gets the reader hooked on it and make them feel as if they are part of it. As long as their is that emotional connection between the reader and the story then it's good. The connection you were able to established in the writing gives the reader a sense of comfortably that they are in tune with the writing. So that way when the writing is over, the reader wants more, and wishes it didn't end.

[Pax]

I was treasure hunting and i found this wonderful jewel:
“We can no more control the hurt than we can those that bring it to us. Sometimes it just comes of its own accord. Just as does the love. It’s a price we may or may not have to pay for the good we get of it.”
~stunning view of life...
brilliant story!

[lee von cleef]

A dis arming bath of support ? Sounds worse then the compliment it was supposed to be. Can you settle for say a "Well written quality think piece "?

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Don't take it back. I loved the review.

[lee von cleef]

Give up your cowboy story some day, I hope you learned how to one step anyway, if a cowboy can do it it has to be simple.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

I already gave it up quite publicly... But that is a dead horse bow. No sense beatin the poor thing.

[Mark]

"Slowly she released the breath she was unaware she’d been holding. She was here. Safe... finally. "

This, to me, is the very crux of this lovely piece. The child, tortured by her very uniqueness (or so she feels), cannot give a name, or even a source to the numbing pain, the silent shrieking within her soul. But the mere presence of the "crone", and the sudden awareness that everything she was going through, she HAD gone through, and survived, was enough, for this solitary moment, to unlimber her heart of some of its nameless dross. A beautifully freeing thought, Shelley. Thank you.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Wow Mark. Thank you. Humbled. Thank you.

[lee von cleef]

Four seconds, that's all you need to win. A thousand pounds of hairy muscle bunched back in the corner of the box. Ears pricked,eyes piercing the Corriente trapped in the chute. One nod, one tell,will start consequences. Header and Dogger ,Steer squeezed in the middle.T or C , Truth or Consequences, go ahead ,jump off a perfectly good horse. Let your momentum and arms twist nose, horns,belly over up to the sky. Four seconds all you get for a..... Release.

The truth is we all live to find comfort,a safe ,secure,place to ...Release. Yours is a disarming, bath of support.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Loved your comments here. They are so deeply felt and hear. Thanks Lee.

[EMF]

Dollface... where's the rest? Where? I want to see it on my desk immediatley. Well? No. When I say immediatley I don't mean in a minute. I mean now.
What?
Reallly?
The dog ate it. First time I've heard that one.
Well, as it stands it is adequatley superb. Bareley glorious. Moderatley beautiful. So stop reading and go write more. No. Don't fill in that box. Write.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

I had to say thanks. This is actually one of my favorites to date so... Double thanks. Gotta write the rest... Off to do so.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Pete is OK in the dryer for a while isn't he?

[EMF]

Pete's just rung me. Apparently you have him manacled in the shower. Groovy

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

From lead in with the title, to the last word of this, I am deeply touched. How perfectly you have written this! So gentle, accepting, wise, warm, complete. One of the beauties of aging is that, if we have paid attention, we learn...we learn compassion, empathy, courage, and to recognize what is important and true. Many talk of the inner child, but here you have brought up an interesting concept...the inner "crone". Don't know if you have read Clarissa Pinkola Estes - Women Who Run With Wolves...but if you haven't, I think you would connect with it. In this society, perhaps in this world, there seems to be such irreverence for the aged...this is so sad, because, as I tell my kids "your elders have been where you are, but you have not been where they are". Circumstances may vary for each of us, but the things that are human about us remain fairly consistent...we hurt, we cry, we laugh, we hope, we die...
This was entirely exquisite, and to me stands as something that reminds me of an old tale that will have meaning to many, now and in the future. Fantastic work, my friend!

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

My friend.. Your reviews are so rich with things that make me smile. Thank you a thousand times over for just being you. And for your comments too.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

You know I feel the same about you. :)

[Ed Hart]

you are always reaching and stretching yourself, and we who come get to sit at the seance

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Wow. Your comment takes my breath away. Humbled here. Thank you Ed. Really... Thanks.

[Marie]

Sometimes release is the answer...there may be more to this, but it could end here. A gift of wisdom offered...a gift received...to be yourself without another need...

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Marie... Never ceases to amaze me how you hear that which is not written. You are a gem and am so glad you are my friend here.

[Chris]

Actually it was like sitting in on a description of a friend sharing some coffee with me at my kitchen table... not teasing at all... but that is just me and how it goes...

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

And you and I have had very very similar conversations have we not? Over coffee too.

[Chris]

THAT Shell is what we do...