The Cloak of Invisibility

Entering the age of invisibility, oh what freedom!

As a small child I had an extremely vivid imagination. One of my favorite games was to believe I was invisible. Oh how I wished to have a cloak of invisibility that I could slip on whenever I wanted to remain unseen. Little did I realize that one day I wouldn’t need a cloak, that invisibility would just suddenly happen. What I am speaking about is the invisibility that comes to “women of a certain age.” I had read of this phenomena, but was still quite shaken when I realized I had dawned the cloak and joined the ranks of the invisible crowd. It is quite a transformation and quite transformative. I began to realize my invisibility as I did my routine shopping and tasks about town. I ponder, did it come with the allowing of my hair to go natural, resulting in a halo of white hair framing my face? In doing so, did I cross a threshold and step across the abyss into the unseen? Or was it simply just a matter of what decade I had crossed into.

No matter the cause, the cloak had descended. Once I adjusted to this new position, I began to enjoy the freedom and autonomy that came with it. No longer an object to be viewed or scrutinized, I could enter shops and be left quite alone to browse, when traveling I easily floated through security, walking and cycling I was able to remain firmly in my own world. Yes, this suits me nicely, indeed. There comes a sense of freedom in no longer being viewed as an object, be that for consumer products or as body parts. One’s soul, spirit, and mind are able to connect more closely with the physical body when the physical body is no longer mired in the western view that a woman’s body is closely connected to her worth.

The downside of this invisibility is that, in western culture, silence is expected to accompany that cloak. Silent, I am not. While invisibility is a social construct thrown over those of a certain age, aging also brings the freedom to, well, not give a damn. To speak up, to ignore the patriarchal nonsense regarding a woman’s place. Because we know our place, our true place passed down to us from a lineage of strong women from time immortal. We are the wild women, the crones, the divine feminine. I am embracing that crone and working toward the mythical hag. Care to join me?

Chatter from the Homefront

This last week I managed to get my sewing room back in order after it had housed my grandson for most of the school year. I also completed a pair of socks and made good progress on my latest shawl. I love a good shawl pattern and Helen Stewart is a genius with a shawl. This is my second time knitting her Amulet shawl. The yarn is by Barnyard Knits in color ways A Walk in the Woods and Into the Forest. I also completed some bags for the Etsy shop but haven’t taken the time to get them photoed or uploaded. I am finishing up my summer term with PhD studies with just one more paper left to complete…boy will that be a nice relief. I am ready for a break from research writing! And I am preparing to take off this Saturday to Cali for a nice long visit with my middle and grands and to see my eldest grand off to Japan for her new job.

The weather continues to heat up here requiring early morning walks and cycling. Thankfully I am a morning person. The cycling has been amazing! Oh the joy of being back in the saddle again! Hitting a few yard sales here and there with a few treasures coming home with me. Joined a FB bookclub group to discuss Sharon Blackie’s If Woman Rose Rooted. It is my second time round with this book and this time am enjoying the audio book on my morning bike rides. Oh how dearly I love her work! Joined a woman’s meet up group through Next Door. How lovely to sit around a table with a group of women gabbing and sharing! I had not made any friends since moving here, so excited to meet up and spend time with girlfriends! Found the loveliest Little Library when out running about it even had a large stone slab as a bench. Just a perfect spot amongst the flowers in a shady nook!

There is a tranquil rhythm in my summer routine. The afternoon heat drives me inside allowing me time to play, dream, and read. That suits me just fine!

Embracing the crone,

Patricia

Right after I wrote this my brother, Jim, who has my kidney, was burned badly in a fire. He is at the burn center in Portland. I would appreciate and prayers, healing energy, good thoughts from any and all. Thank You!