November/December 2005 Living Now
Night of the Clan Mothers

by Barbara Burritt

One Friday night as the full moon was waxing, my restless soul yearned for more than the constant bombardment of flashing images on TV. In a fit of frustration I angrily turned off the depressing array of nubile young bodies selling tits and ass. No more reminders were necessary of how my own middle-age skin was sagging, or why my wrinkles were growing deeper by the hour! In my favorite worn out sweats and pink fuzzy slippers I settled in front of my lap- top to assuage boredom. It was time for me to log onto my favorite spiritual forum and to go fishing in the cosmic pool of the internet community. While scanning down the hot topics of the evening, I noticed a heated discussion growing about menopause. A woman from New York was inquiring about her own kundalini experiences of entering the age of the Crone. She wondered if she was going insane or a little wacky by the outrageous rushes of sexual energy running through her body.

Could this be the modern day version of the Clan Mothers gathered around the sacred fires of sisterhood? They were sharing intimate truths for the collective tribe of cyber-space. There were no pretty faces or fake boobs to distract the questions on each of our minds. It mattered little that thousands of miles separated this collective gathering. Each of us sensed an intimate trust building between us. I cast my line into this group for my own needs, and a familiarity of kindred souls joined me for the next few hours.

We opened up to topics of vulnerability too many times hidden away from friends and family. Sometimes it easier to be real with strangers and to express personal fears hidden in silent denial. Like so many women in America, we admitted to one another our feelings of insecurity about growing older. None of us were born amongst the indigenous women who still gather in moon circles on Mother Earth. As modern women in this culture we are cut off from the traditions and ways of our ancestors. Although, the power of the Goddess burned at the stake, history can’t stop a sub-conscious memory of their visions from surfacing again. Can hormonal treatments and botox injections answer the most intimate questions on the hearts of us Crones? Our stories were very similar. Together we were crossing over strange thresholds of psychic phenomena, while experiencing erratic physical changes. We were no longer alone as we reached out to each other with our naked truths.

Ancestral energy and wisdom emerged within our dialogue, while we shared perplexing questions on all of our minds. The woman from New York was a Jewess whose Balkan ancestry included Black Russian psychics. Her clan was known for their worship of the Moon as they followed ancient codes of initiation unveiling the magic of the feminine. A Pakistani Reiki master in Phoenix shared her truths about Tantric sexual practices. She brought to this forum new insights about our own bodies, and how the energy shifts in this mid life surge of power. She encouraged us to release the kundalini snake energy rising within. We were to dance with it. Move with it in all creative channels. Finally a woman from Seattle spoke about the Triple Goddess and the ways of the Crone. This was an awakening. Menopause is not an ending, as our middle aged psyches crossed the threshold of new possibilities of sacred contracts. What was destiny calling to each of us to fulfill? An electric fabric of dialogue was weaving threads of truth from the mystic. There was plenty to ruminate over, while silent observers were on line watching. Fortunately the usual religious fanatics were occupied elsewhere that evening. Maybe they were too intimidated by the topic of so much taboo. One thing was certain... the Wise Ones were with us. They enlightened this tribal fire with their silent embrace and warm sense of humor.

Face lifts may appease the Hollywood starlets, but this group wanted to love themselves au natural. Bouncing young bodies on television perpetuates a societal fear of death and old age. Our culture honors youth and ageless splendor. None of us want to disappear into the shadows and become invisible as we mature into the Crone. Our global human facade is crumbling in denial, and it is in dire need of repair. Real inner healing must begin at the heart, when we become enlightened by the stages of growing older. This truth affects all ages and both genders. Like a stone thrown into the waters of humanity, our menopausal transformation can ripple with power and wisdom ad infinitum. It is time to welcome this transition, instead of avoiding the changes in our bodies and psyches.

The sacred feminine principle is absent in our concept of God. Without the Goddess our global consciousness is off balance with too much testosterone. Where is the beauty of transition that offers a future beyond decay and death? Divine gifts of intuition are born out of the wombs of creativity. This goes beyond human sexual barriers. Harmony exists when the psyche unites the feminine and masculine principles as one. One brave male logged onto the forum, participating in our discussion anonymously. At the end of the evening he revealed his true sexual identity. There is no male and female when the highest aspects of the Spirit are one in love.

Life does not end at menopause. To the contrary, it becomes more vividly pronounced in emotional and sexual depths. Learning to navigate through the waters of this uncharted horizon should be exciting instead of repulsive. It can be a new frontier of mystical experience and intuitive reckonings. Be prepared for loud speakers to amplify the messages within your psyche.

A sense of community lingered long after the forum dissipated around midnight. I was no longer alone feeling the surge of strange menopausal experiences. Out of that evening the hidden Goddess revealed her many faces. She spoke clearly in our voices with boldness and compassion. We were challenged to carry her truths into our separate lives over the miles into our homes and families. There was no one path of spiritual dogma glorified that night. They were the Wise Ones of many races and faiths. Our words stood naked in the warmth of a healing circle. Afterwards, I stared up at the waxing moon outside my window with a sense of deep peace before crawling into bed. Wrinkles and flesh may change, but a strength of divine rapture will continue this magic thread into dream time amidst the arms of the Clan Mothers.

Barbara Burritt is a visionary artist and author, residing in Portland, Oregon. She graduated with honors from the Minneapolis College of Art & Design in 1980 and completed her post graduate studies at the Royal College of Art in London in 1992. Eclipse of Fate, her first book on past life recall will be released in October, 2005. View her art and poetry at www.graalqueen.com