Sheela Na Gig

I would like to get Cardi B's song WAP out of my head. You've not heard about WAP? Ah, what can I say? It got played at the retreat and it became a bit of an anthem over the retreat weekend, but that was to be expected. You're amongst a group of strong feminine feminist personalities who take their lives and run with it you're going to start grinding, twerking  and singing the eye popping lyrics and laughing. Sure, this was among a group of women of strong character. I can't twerk to save my life, but I'm good for a grind. And sing about women's sexual empowerment - well why the hell not!

I'm still processing the retreat, and from experience, this will take a while. 

What is coming to me is the joys of being a crone, something I never thought I would say?

Crone, you ask.

Well, the online dictionary states that a crone is 'and ugly old woman', which is selling out crones bigtime. 

For me, the crone is the third stage of womanhood, the state of being free from all of the crap you put you with in your late teens, twenties and thirties.  In New Age and feminist spiritual circles, a "Croning" is a ritual rite of passage into an era of wisdom, freedom, and personal power. I like this interpretation of the word. 

But back to Cardi B and her chant of an anthem, the thought about singing a song which is a celebration of women's sexuality, in some of the crassest language is all a bit foreign to me. I mean, celebrate your sexuality? Really. Love you body? You can do that? You mean the body that the universe has provided me? A body which now it cannot provide children doesn't really have a purpose in the world except for transporting my essence around. 

As a woman, I've always had a difficult relationship with my body, and indeed, my sexuality. So to be around others, who appear to have less of fraught relationship is refreshing. Singing along with gay abandon to WAP felt like a female equivalent of a group of men singing football chants, but where the men often sound tuneless and regimented, this felt very primal. If I'm honest, it was bloody enjoyable. 

On the other side of things, watching the weekend, watching the older women, you see the other side of things. Age ravages us - it runs rampant over our selves and our souls until we are spent, which is where Sheila Na Gig comes into play. 

Sheila Na Gig 

From the Goddess Oracle pack, by Amy Sophia Marashinsky, illustrated by Hrana Janto

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I'm starting to embrace cronedom, although it's an evolutionary process. HRT is staving some of this off too, and this is also fine. Having a chat to a GP this weekend, we talked of the freedom it gives. It allows you to be 'you'. You're far less hot (temperature wise), itchy, grumpy, tired, flabby, psycho and dry. The seven dwarfs of menopause. You get to reclaim your vagina. As one GP told a friend of mine, HRT will make her vagina meaty again. That it takes away the feeling that your sex organs have turned into a vice is reason enough consider it. That it may take off a few years at the end of you life - as the GP and I agreed, what's the difference between 85 and 90? Enjoy the life you have - and sex, comfort and desirability are all part of this. 

Because really, do we want to end up like Sheila here, opening herself up after being sucked dry. 

Talking of being sucked dry, we then have the Diana of Ephesus. 

Diana, the huntress, the provider is found here in Ephesus, with a gathering of pendulus breasts, expected to feed the world. Talk about sucked dry indeed. Here, Diana looks stoic, but what is really behind her eyes.

I think it should be more like this:

This being a woman thing is hard. 

Far too many aspects to juggle, too many societal judgements and expectations.

Sometimes it just feels right to sing along to WAP, grinding your hips with the group, laughing with abandon, wishing you knew this feeling 30 years ago. 

...Tie me up like I'm surprised

Let's roleplay, I wear a disguise

I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage

Make it cream, make me scream

Out in public, make a scene

I don't cook, I don't clean

But let me tell you, I got this ring (ayy, ayy)...

Today's Song: