Discovering Your Inner Witch

Meditations on coming into Cronehood

I am a 48-year-old woman. With luck, I’m about halfway through life. No longer young, but nowhere near elderly, I find myself casting about for a guide, someone to model this phase of life for me. I see plenty of examples of how to be young, how to be in the child-rearing, career-focused years, and how to be old… but what about this midpoint? Neither fish nor foul, where do we find examples of how to be in the middle?

Midlife women can’t be like twenty-somethings anymore. Our skin doesn’t look the same. Our bodies have been through decades of time and lots of wear and tear, especially if we’ve had children along the way. Our hair is graying, our physiology is changing, our very bones are shifting into a new form. We may also feel a greater need for self-care, rest periods, consideration of our physical, emotional, even spiritual needs.

At the same time, we aren’t anywhere near ready for retirement. We can be on fire with energy and ambition, passionate and dedicated to a cause, a job, a vocation. No rocking chairs and knitting needles yet, please (unless that’s our cherished hobby, passion or self-care ritual, in which case: hand ’em over!).

Maybe it’s the season, but as I ponder this lately I can’t stop thinking about Crones, the archetypal Wicked Witch.

According to the triple goddess Maiden-Mother-Crone model of female life, since my fertile phase in life is coming to a close I am more Crone than Mother (I left Maiden behind a long time ago). In less than a year I will have an empty nest; with no children at home, my mothering days are fast becoming a thing of the past.

So who is this Crone, in whose tribe I belong now? What does she have to teach me about this life’s journey of becoming, who I am now and what comes next?

She Rides A Broom

Witches on brooms, flying across the night sky — we’re all familiar with the image. It has its roots in a 15th-century French poem and its illustrations, according to Hyperallergic.com. But the reality behind this stereotype is not one of domesticity gone dark.

A witch on her broom is code for female sexuality and power.

“The Crone is far from sexually dormant. She is, on the contrary, at the height of her sexual prowess.”

A broom is the symbolic blending of male and female: stick and brush, hard and soft. It is the perfect balance between the two. Not only does the witch riding a broom indicate that she’s literally “on top” of the attributes, gifts and strengths of both genders, but it is an obvious metaphor for the sexual act.

What does this teach us?

The Crone is far from sexually dormant. She is, on the contrary, at the height of her sexual prowess, in charge of herself and her environment, powerful, strong, poised at the nexus of strength and flexibility — the ultimate sweet spot.

Maidens don’t have the experience to find this balance. Mothers are too busy nurturing, building, taking care of others and their careers to tap into this wisdom.

But we Crones are there.

She Stoops Over Her Cauldron

Hunched old woman, bending over a bubbling cauldron, cackling to herself, brewing up trouble. That’s the scene that gets trotted out every Halloween.

This one seems to be all about cooking: Hearth Magic.

With years of experience she no longer fumbles with recipes. Not rushed and pulled in a hundred directions at once, she has time to slowly stir her concoctions.

And what she brews up?

Literally magical.

Powerful and in demand, her creations are enchantments that bewitch any who partake.

As appealing as brewing up magic potions may be, we have to be realistic and ask: how do we draw aside the veil of metaphor to apply this practically in the lives of modern women?

I see this as an acknowledgement of the power of gathering people around us, sharing a meal or other simple, common ritual that involves community — happy hour, a coffee date, tea?

“It is when we congregate with others that we are creating our own magic.”

The Crone’s hearth magic doesn’t require a smoky, dimly lit open fire, slavishly stirring, chopping, working over simmering heat. Any meeting of family, friends or community fits the bill.

It is when we congregate with others that we are creating our own magic.

Whether our cauldrons are big pots of pasta, martini glasses, bottles of coke or steaming mugs of pumpkin spice lattes, it’s building connections with others — a thing we women are known for in our culture — that is the real enchantment.

The Old Witch Herself

Gnarled hands, grey hair, hooked nose, wrinkles forever. Cackling, muttering, hunched and wizened.

Of the three life phases, hers is represented as both the darkest and the most powerful. Could it be that the latter quality is why the cloak of darkness has been cast over it? Fully realized female power — knowledge of herself, her abilities, the world, and how to work her will in it — is a dangerous thing to a patriarchal power structure; we wouldn’t want that kind of thing to be appealingly packaged, now would we?

“It signals an independence from the requirement of attractiveness: she is who she is, no apologies, no need to meet anyone else’s standards.”

But this image is useful, even before we discuss how the patriarchy has disenfranchised powerful women by making them outcast, ugly, and unacceptable.

It signals an independence from the requirement of attractiveness: she is who she is, no apologies, no need to meet anyone else’s standards.

If she cackles, it’s from joy over her freedom from others’ definitions of who and what she should be, how she should look and behave. She will not be limited by others’ expectations.

She offers so much to women today. We are breaking glass ceilings and casting aside obsolete stereotypes and social taboos, including the antiquated image of what it means to grow old. We are not relegated to grandmotherly kitchen roles. We are stepping into positions of power politically, economically, and socially, expanding our spheres of influence and demanding to be taken seriously and valued.

Crowning Glory of Womanhood

Far from being the cast-off husk of what was once a vital, valuable and attractive woman, the Crone emerges as the crowning glory of womanhood. She is experienced, and wisdom allows her to find balance and derive power from her years. She has so much to offer the people in her life. Her magic is earned.

I celebrated my entrance into the Maiden phase, with menarche and all it brought; I reveled in my Mother years, feeling the wonder of my babies growing inside me and watching them grow up in this world; I am beginning to feel a sense of honor and reverence for this new life stage. I’d like to celebrate my Cronehood somehow.

Are Crone Parties a thing?

If they aren’t yet, I think it’s time they were. Because coming into my inner witch is definitely something worth celebrating.