An earlier version of this post was previously published on February 26, 2020 at MADGoddess.com
I’m coming full circle around to where this all began more than 20 years ago, with the Mad Goddess speaking to me in my middle age about sovereignty and self care. It’s playing out so differently this time, because the landscape is new. I’m passing through another transition.
Then it was all about preparing for the empty nest, or empty next as I liked to frame it, pursuing my interests and talents, carving out my unique niche in the world, making the dream come true.
Now I’m moving through my younger old age, not yet Crone, but perhaps crossing the threshold between Priestess and Sorceress as presented by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard in their model of the thirteen stages of a woman’s life, I’m standing in a liminal doorway, crossing into the next unknown.
Women’s Wheel of Life by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard
There's certainly a mystical side to this transforming, but really it’s about meeting my own truth and shaping the wisdom season of my life.
I’m practicing the three Rs. I recall back then it was Reevaluate, Reimagine and Reset. Now those Rs are Reduce, Release and Receive. All of this stuff I’ve accumulated over the decades of my adult life that I no longer need, not just material things, but emotional baggage as well—I'm ready to let it all go.
As for the material things in life, I'm convinced we don't own it as much as it owns us in perceived value and attatchments; we can’t just throw it away or donate it, it cost us hard earned money. It should all be worth something.
Our stuff owns us in the time needed to use it, clean or maintain it. It claims our space for keeping it, saving it because we fear we might need or want it some distant day. Or saving it for children and grandchildren who have no use for it, don’t want it and will give it away.
Actually, as I write that, most of it applies to my emotional stuff too. I hold on to memories, even painful ones, because they made me who I am, and I think I might need them some day. The truth is the experiences, good and bad, did shape me in the lessons they taught, but nobody can ever take that from me now. I don't have to hold onto it any more.
Reducing the clutter (physically and mentally) has not proven easy. I find that sometimes I don't have to purge this or that, I can change what it looks like, how it works for my purpose.
I once had a beautiful perennial garden, twenty-four by forty feet, raised and enclosed with wire fencing to keep out deer, rabbits and other invaders. It bloomed with fragrant roses, peonies, and lilies. Spires of holly hocks, lupine and foxglove, and carpets of phlox.
My lush garden became too much work for me, and grew over with weeds. I saved a few of my perennials, transplanting them to small flower beds near my deck. I’m transforming the space into a wildlife garden, with mostly mulched beds, garden structures, and ornaments like wind chimes and sun catchers, bird baths and large pots for herbs and flowers. My beautiful perennial garden is not gone, it's simply transformed to fit my life now.
In the house, I'm gathering up all the bric-a-brac I no longer need, sets of china rarely used, books that haven't been opened in years, clothes that never leave the closet, the little chotskies filling shelves, the collection of wrapping paper and bows—who am I kidding? I give gift cards these days, or purchase a gift bag if needed.
Photo by Jazmin Quaynor on Unsplash