March 2, 2024
Hi there! Welcome to Crone Life! I write about getting older, evaluating your life, maintaining a youthful spirit, and believing in yourself. Most of the time.
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Around the time I turned 30, I thought “Time to stop basing your personality on being cute.” I knew I had a brain. I decided I had to be serious and business-like and reliable. Then toward the end of my 30s I had a baby. I spent my 40s and most of my 50s raising my kid and being a mom and possibly leaving the world of remunerative employment forever.1 In my late 50s, when my son was not so much launched as off my hands, I thought I would live an artistic and creative life in the woods.
Here I am at 63 still trying to figure that out. I don’t think of myself as “aging” as much as “getting older.” I’m not afraid of getting older, but I am afraid of aging. Is there a difference? Time to do some research.
By the grace of
, who shared them, I have links to writers who consider themselves part of the “aging community” on Substack. Let’s see what I find.First up: Julia Hubbel,
After exploring several articles from Psychology Today about aging, Hubbel points out that none of those are written by people who are actually “old.” She’s making a case for reading articles about getting older written by those who’ve lived that experience and a case for the community of writers who deal with this topic on the Substack platform. She’s so quotable! I want to pull out big chunks and post them here. But i‘ll limit myself to this
Many of us address the internal politicking that informs our brains as we negotiate- especially as women- our changing role in society as we forfeit our butts to gravity, our faces to life’s emotions, our value to the world seemingly diminished by our lack of fertility and smooth thighs.
I think that’s me! I feel seen. But I disagree that aging is necessarily all about embodiment in an older, imperfectly attractive body. That’s part of it, absolutely. But I don’t feel deeply that my value to the world is diminished because of my decrepit ass. I myself don’t worry much about my ass, mostly because it’s easy to avoid looking at it. I’m more concerned about how my ever rounder stomach is impinging on my waist.
I want to go beyond that embodiment, though, and focus on my brain and spirit. I have an active brain and a fierce spirit, hence the jaguar reference. My first initial, as many of you know, is J.2 But my brain and spirit both live in my body, so I can’t ignore my body, as much as I’d like too. I used to think that emotional eaters who gain weight eat because they cannot stand mental pain, whereas women who diet and maintain their bodies can’t stand physical pain. I’m not sure that theory makes total sense, though I do think there’s something there about how people deal with pain, both mental and physical, differently.
I’m not particularly inspired by older people who jump out of airplanes or go helicopter skiing or start yoga studios, however. Physicality is not my main interest, though I do need to make a habit of paying attention to how my body feels. The problem is that mostly my body doesn’t feel that great. I’ve had issues with what might be best described as “chronic pain” since adolescence. A year ago, after one particularly horrid incident, I decided I was done with thinking it was psychosomatic or because I didn’t exercise enough or I was “too stressed” and needed to be “less stressed.” Sure. I asked to be referred to a rheumatologist and finally got an appointment this past January. She ordered a lot of blood tests and x-rays and I have an appointment with her next week to discuss the results. Maybe I will finally get enough of a diagnosis to do something about it.
Without being too hard on myself, though, I need to acknowledge that I’m still recovering from the car accident. I had a knee MRI a few weeks ago, and this past week saw the sports medicine guy, who basically told me I don’t need an arthroscopy, and my ligaments etc are all fine, but I have arthritis and will eventually need a knee replacement (I guess it comes to us all). I got a prescription for another 8 weeks of physical therapy. Maybe I can ease my way into regular exercise that way. Maybe I should bite the bullet and sign up with a yoga studio. Maybe the other orthopedist will OK me for walking up hills again.
Next: Cindy O’Dell,
O’Dell writes about redefining cronehood (I find that phrase more graceful than the original) based on her re-reading of Crones Don’t Whine by Jean Shinoda Boden, M.D. I don’t like the title. It seems so prescriptive. I myself enjoy a good whine. “Why is my life so haaaaaard?” is a phrase which frequently crosses my mind. I don’t want to be brave, I have to be brave, don’t remind me. Dr. Boden might be a bit too woo for me. But I need to nurture my fierce spirit, so I’ll carry on. A good Boden line quoted by O’Dell is “to be a crone is about inner development, not outer appearance.” Again, I feel seen! And the subtitle is Concentrated Wisdom for Juicy women. I think I’d better get a copy. My public library only has a link to an audiobook, not my favorite format, but I’ve always thought that “juicy” was a good description for me. I’m full of juice. I’ll download the audiobook and slowly consume it whilst driving back and forth to visit my mom.
Elle Griffin,3 I Don’t Want to Grow Up, from
Griffin writes about Neverland, and not wanting to grow up, and links to a movie and a Broadway musical about Peter Pan and his lost boys.4 But she also writes about her desire to hang on to her youthful spirit. I like this quote
I think when we grow up, we shouldn’t throw out our youth. I think we should keep it with us as we go. Because we will come to see the way of the world, but we’re still capable of seeing the magic in it.
Again. It me! I don’t want to fall into cynicism or “realism.” Lately, I have been descending into frequent gloom about having lived most of my life already, with my youthful years behind me. Feeling like there isn’t anything I can do about it except to succumb. Not worrying about my ass so much as my spirit and my ability to nurture it.
How do I nurture my spirit? By reading, of course, and writing and especially, thinking about things. Thinking About Things is my Number 1 hobby. I nurture my body with Everything Showers, body lotion that smells like chocolate5, and moisturizer that doesn't sting my face. And, I suppose, by taking up more physical activity, gradually.
I’m not sure how graceful I can be about any of this. But I can certainly be fierce.
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I was employed, I just wasn’t making very much money. The trend continues.
I thought of the Beckett reference and went down a rabbit hole of remembering why I don’t like Beckett. Except for his aphorisms which fortunately for me have already been mined from the cliff face of his prose by other readers, some of whom must have enjoyed it.
They’re always boys, aren’t they?
Also, chocolate.
My decrepit ass agrees!!
Good to hear from you.