The Enchanted Crone
An invitation to Discover and Live the Myth Within You
“Myth is the great awakener to cure our blindness.” ~James Hillman
Like many women I know, I’ve spent much of my adult life in search of the holy grail of wholeness. In this quest, I began reshaping my personal stories into myth, inspired by my friend Dennis Patrick Slattery’s words: “The mythopoetic version of the life we’ve lived is what heals us and gives us insight and meaning. It is the soul work that our stories invite.”
Recently, I embarked on a nine-month course, The Morning Altars Teacher Training. I never anticipated that creating impermanent earth altars, dedicated to the qualities and aspects of life, would draw me closer to my own mythology. To me, mythology is not a collection of dead, distant tales. Myths serve as a template of patterns and symbols that reveal self-knowledge when we begin to see that myth is alive in us. The teachings of Morning Altars, act as a doorway into the mythopoetic realm.
While "mythopoetic" may sound like an academic term, it signifies something much more intimate for me. Mythopoesis is a language innate to all of us—one that we’ve largely forgotten. It speaks through metaphor, symbols, and nature. In this fast-paced, on-demand world, we’ve lost touch with our soul selves. Yet, myth and poetry are the original vessels for storytelling, and if we will reclaim the language myth utilizes, we begin to experience both sides of the veil, the visible and the invisible.
The altar I made, depicted in the image above, honors the cycles of love and loss—the great transformative forces of life. Everyone carries a grief myth, and a myth of transformation. I reshaped my own story of grief in a way that brought me healing and comfort. When my brother and sister passed away a couple of years ago, I mourned what once was and what would never be again. I painted a grief stone for each of them—a ritual of remembrance and love. From time to time, I carry one or both of the painted stones with me; or I sit quietly with them, turning them over in my hands, a tactile experience of their presence. The stones whisper memories to me and remind me that the love of my siblings is always alive in my heart.
Eldering is a myth interwoven with the season of autumn. In this mythology, I can grow older and know there is beauty in decay, in letting go, and in contemplating impermanence. The old and the decaying have meaning in that they are the nourishment and the promise of new life.
In these days of aging closer to the edges of a life well-lived, I embody the myth of an enchanted crone. Wrapping her story, which is my story, around me like a magical cape, I call in the moon. I can hear the trees whisper their secrets to me.. I immerse myself in storytelling and earth art, filling hours with poetry and contemplation. As an enchanted crone, I embrace the natural world, recognizing that she is me, and I am her. I place on the altar of loss and love the chalice of purpose: to reflect and ponder who I am and who I can become in the years that linger between dusk and darkness.
I’m rooted in the creative act of making art, crafting stories, and weaving personal myths. Making earth art, like my altar to loss, is an action of sacrament: taking earth into my hands; gathering seed pods and leaves; making beauty that will disappear into the elements, just as I will one day fade. The journey is teaching me that the enchanted crone is not merely a figure of folklore; she is a reflection of my own evolving self, inviting me to explore the depths of my existence and the rich tapestry of “becoming.”
Reflective Writing Prompts:
Is there a myth or a fairytale that you can see yourself in? Which one?
Do you have a process for ritualizing and reshaping the stories of your life into myths that connote purpose and meaning?
Is the natural world one that you can hear speaking to you?
This essay about personal mythology is dedicated to the women of a tribe who nourish my soul by sharing their stories, adventures and travels in both the visible and invisible worlds of existence. Thank you
, , , , and . You keep me curious and playful by bringing magic and enchantment into my world. With love and appreciation. ~Stephanie
Stephanie, this is such a lovely description of how we can tune into myth as a living fiber weaving our own stories, ourselves as part of the natural world, and our ancestors. I'm still in the motherhood phase with a near-teenager, but as an "old" mom, I see hints of my crone self in the distance. I actually really look forward to that phase, but I'm inviting myself to be more curious about how to use the myths of motherhood to learn to love the phase I'm in. Thank you for sharing what you've been learning on your journey so that the rest of us can grow from your wisdom. Cheers to the Enchanted Crone!
Hi Stephanie
I love this and you painted stones for your siblings, that you carry them around with you sometimes and feel them in your hands. How powerful such a good idea I have a friend who told me about a mutual friend of ours in England, passed away recently, and they painted her casket , of course it was wooden but what a beautiful ritual. I wish I could’ve been there.
As you know, my current myth is Medusa. I find it to be incredibly powerful. In fact, I found a novel called “stone Blind” the author whose name and forgetting right now humanizes her and family with her sisters who are immortal. It’s fantastic and bringing so much more of Medusa is to me to life.
Thank you very much for this.
I’m glad you’re getting so much out of your course.
🌹