This morning, while in the restroom mirror under the harsh fluorescent lights of public facilities, I saw it.
My first gray hair.
And yet, here I am, with the first sign of transition from mother to crone.
It’s a lot more subtle than the transition from maiden to mother. Even for mothers who do not have their own biological/adopted/foster children, the change comes fast. One is suddenly no longer just thinking of their own well-being but is also considering the well-being of the next generation. One is looking beyond the biologically significant selfish ego of the child and is caring for those around her for the betterment of all. Nurturing those outside of herself. Fulfilling her mother arcitype. It’s a change that doesn’t happen all at once, but does happen quickly.
This one, not so much.
My kids are 3 and 1. And I’m 31. I am still a young mother, in the prime of my life with my two little Witches in the dawn of theirs. But there it is.
This is one of many to spawn over the next many years as the transition completes. But, for me, it is something to be celebrated rather than something to shy away from.
It is nothing more than the next level of power. The continuation of the constant change and evolution that is life.
It is also a reminder that all three archetypes are within me at all times, I just have to summon them.
On second thought, above all, a reminder of the feminine mysteries that I owned. I carried within my body, two lives. My body, and my body alone, nourished those two lives for the weeks when the grew within and the months when they grew without.