Month: September 2013

It has taken time  time for me to slide  into my new role. I remember a one of a few startling moments along the way. There was an occasion on Pine  Ridge, when I was being introduced to a young girl by her mother, and she said to her daughter: “this is grandma Soltahr”. I was a little taken aback, because I truly didn’t think of myself as a grandma. My children just left home a year ago! But, there I was, aware that many women I knew who were younger than I, already had grandchildren, even though my children just left home a year ago. I also think that I had seriously thought I didn’t really look my 58 years of age–well, I could hope, couldn’t I?

Yet, I also felt a little pride, in  knowing that I was being seen as one of the women I most revered in my life. Upon turning 50, I had been pondering this notion of being/becoming a wise elder, and what did that look like for me?

What I do know for sure is that I feel ready to be there now, even though I didn’t necessarily understand all that it meant. I am learning. It is a new journey for me, and as of this moment, I like it.

It has become a time of discovery of my innermost world. During my time as an active mother, I didn’t have a lot of time for introspection, though I knew that my children were teaching me all along, and that the journey of motherhood was, by its nature, a time of great learning. I learned how to be selfless and selfish all at the same time. Giving of myself to my twins–teaching them, helping and supporting them in school, socially, and of course at home. I will never regret the time and energy I put into my children, because it has paid off, in that they are amazingly well put together young women, and both amazing artists. They chose to get out on their own, and they are doing just fine. I am proud of them.  I am proud that I was able to raise them as a single mother, even though our culture stacks the odds against single parenting.

I mentioned that I was also selfish during my single mothering years. I was able to put myself through grad school and get into the world of my profession while still keeping my self healthy and strong. I did this by balancing my tome with my children, with work, and having something of a social life as well. I had priorities, I came first. Why me, and not my children? Because if I  didn’t take care of myself, there would be no one to take care of them. I bless and am grateful to my ancestors for their help and guidance, as well as giving me the important lessons in life that I most needed, in order to  become a better woman, a better mother, and, I suspect, perhaps a better crone, as I progress further into that part of my journey.

Next: How I am learning to turn my knowledge of life into wisdom about a number of different experiences along the way.

My mother died on July 21st of 2009. In March of that same year, my grandmother passed on as well.  After that time, I didn’t quite realize it, but I began what would come to be (though I didn’t know it at the time) a journey to find my wise woman self.

It presented as sadness at these losses, then, became a sort of depression.  I know this, not just because I’m a therapist, but because I know myself really well. Many writers down through time have written of what is called: “Dark Night of the Soul”.  What they are referring to is a time in ones life where there is some sort of reckoning with ourselves and who we are. It is usually/often triggered by some external event, yet, it may also come about because of some internal malaise that we are experiencing.

I began to question all that I was, all I had learned, all I had ever wanted to be. I could see that I had done much of value in my life. I raised my twin daughters to adulthood–alone, and had gotten my Master’s degree, 10 years before.  I had taught at universities, and in 2012, I published my first book. Yet, something felt missing, and it took me until only recently to figure out who I really am, and where I am at in my life.

In late Spring of this year, which leads into my birthday in June, I felt as though this descent into darkness took an even sharper turn. My daughters struck out on their own in August of 2012, and I was actually homeless for a few months, as I didn’t have/wasn’t making enough money to afford to get a place of my own.  I thought at the time that I would go on a journey, I even went so far as to say my goodby’s to everyone, thinking I would set out and just drive away. What transpired however was a journey that took place within me, and a new road in my life that led me to the Pine Ridge reservation in South Dakota. I didn’t journey as I’d hoped, yet, the riches I have gained from my journeys to Pine Ridge have been the most wonderful times for me. The gentle sweetness of the Lakota, paired with a fierceness and purpose–showed me new ways to be in my world. To no longer allow others to trample over me, and to remain deeply tied to Mother Earth at all times.

As I take time to step back from the last 4 years since my mother died, I could see that I was on a path to create and birth the inner wise woman in myself.  With my children gone, I was no longer an active mother, and hence it was time for me to take up the mantle of my age, to accept that I am becoming a crone. Those 4 years were brutal on me emotionally–I met and healed my inner child, I healed the wounded woman who’d been abused by her ex-husband and previous relationships, I lost my fear of doing and saying exactly what I need to in my life. I found my voice, I found the boundaries that I needed to set, in order to remain safe and sane. I learned from the relationships I’d had with lovers and friends, I saw the lessons, that while painful, meant that I had grown. I even felt the pangs of death, yes, longed for them. Yet, I did not die, like the leaves in fall,  I transformed instead.

So here I am, a short ways off from 60, yet, I feel renewed, revived, alive. I do not wish to spend out the second part of my life watching from the sidelines in a rocking chair. I wish to spend my time being fully alive, being in love with the sheer joy of lending my loving spirit as a guide to those who are following behind. Life is a gift. Now I see this.