Ladies of a Certain Age ~ for those invisible powerful, dynamic, vital women

Readers contacted me after my last blog wanting to know more about my trip to Ireland.

Well – ladies – “The Hill of the Hag” would be a very appropriate part of my trip to share with Ladies of a Certain Age. 

Just for the record – grandmas are revered in  ancient Irish history.  Before the Christian era, The Great Goddess was worshipped in her many forms.  During my trip, we visited sites pertinent to the Goddess’ various life stages: Child, Mother and Crone.  The Crone site especially spoke to me.  It is called Sliah na Calli or Hill of the Hag, officially known as Cairn T.

Our tour guide, Amantha Murphy, explained to us that spiritual information and feelings were thought to be transmitted through the generations by grandmas! 

Gosh – I kind of knew that.  In the introduction of my 2008 book, “’57 —  Memories of a 10-year-old Denver Girl,” I stated in the introduction: “It seems to me there is something mystical about maternal lineage,” and I listed my mother, grandmothers, Elizabeth and Georgia, one of my great-great grandmothers who I think  l eerily  look like, Consulata, and another, Isabelle, who arrived in Denver in 1869 with her 4-year-old daughter, Ida Mae, and another great-grandmother Francis, who at the time of publication had lived one mile from my home at the time.

So now on to the hill of Sliah na Calli or the Hill of the Hag.

Located in County Meath in the Boyne Valley, a several hour drive west of Dublin, are several large mounds, called cairns, burial chambers, megalithic structures built around 4000 BC. From the top of this hill, you can see for miles and miles.  The view is spectacular, green and pastoral.  I got a sense of the vastness of time as I looked at sheep grazing in the verdant meadows.

On one side of Cairn T are huge blocks of stone that look like a giant’s bench.  They are known as the “seat of the hag.” The area is open to the public; but, our guide had to get a key at the center to get into Cairn T.

Amantha explained to us that we would be doing an ancient meditation ceremony.  We would walk in order of age.  I was in the number 2 position at age 67.  Jyoti Wind, the organizer of the trip, was in the first place, and behind me was watercolor artist Jan Wright.  The rest of the group was behind us according to age.  Amantha told us we would walk counterclockwise around the entire cairn three times and then into a gate that would lead to the entrance of the cairn.  We were to think of our grandmothers during this walk.  Three of us at a time would be allowed into the chamber because it was so small and because there were three alcoves inside, each decorated with astounding carvings.  In the chamber, we could spend a set amount of time and ask The Goddess for instruction or a message.

The group walked slowly and solemnly around the cairn, which I estimated was about a one mile walk before going into the gate that led to the entrance.  We walked to the beat of a large drum.  The air was warm and there was no rain.  It seemed to me that I was walking through time.

Soon after I entered the gate I had a feeling I was in some part of heaven and could feel the presence of my mother, my grandmothers and all my grandmothers listed above, as well as my Irish great-grandmother, Ellen Lynch Rumley, who came to this country in the late 1800s and settled just outside of Glenwood Springs, Colorado, in a town called Sunlight.  It was an amazing, ethereal experience.  I got a distinct message from one of my Italian great-grandmothers, Vencenzia, a small severe, nervous woman who died when I was 11.  “It’s not your time to come here. You are to stay on earth and live until you are called,” she told me in English.  I was thankful she gave me this message because I have often questioned since my children left the nest and I was retired if I should remain on this earth. 

When we arrived at the entrance of the cairn, I felt fragile and slightly light headed, having just had an amazing occasion experiencing all those women who had died many years ago, including my mother who passed away in 1964. The drummer was at the entrance beating on the large drum.

 I dutifully followed Jyoti in, careful not to bump my head on the low beam to the entrance. It was very dark except for a small portable light.   I went to the center alcove, stooped and then knelt to see the back carved wall.  The pink granite was startling in its beauty – circles, swirls, dots, and strange figures were cut into the hard rock.  I felt I had ventured to another world, another time, another place.  Slowly my eyes adjusted and my sense of self and focus came back. 

Then, I saw it: a large hairy fawn colored spider was slowly descending from the ceiling, spinning a large silk strand.  I was not afraid – just awestruck by it all.  I don’t know how long I was in that alcove or in that chamber.  It was time for the three of us to come out and the next group to go in.

I will never forget this experience.  I knew I was meant to stay on this earth and I knew I had an important job to do while still here.  I was to spin yarns – write stories.  The world was changing so fast. My granddaughters and others needed to know of our time and places.

After leaving the chamber the three of us wandered around the hill while we waited for the others to experience the cairn.  It was so peaceful.

When everyone was done, us “three elders” sat on the “Hag’s Throne.”  We were instructed to close our eyes and stretch out our hands. Fellow classmates would come up to one of  us, put a small pebble in our hand and ask a question.  We were to answer them – whatever came to us as hags, crones, wise women.  I had no problem doing this because I have been telling people what to do all of my life!

Well, there you have it, dear reader.  Maybe more information than what you wanted…..

I would challenge you to answer these questions for yourself, and I think you don’t need to travel to Ireland to get the answers:

What are the names of your grandmothers?

If you met them or one of them, what would you be told?

What question would you ask The Goddess, The Old Hag?

What would be the answer?

Can you see the female patterns in your life?

I don’t think Vencenzia is much different than me.  She was intelligent, ambitious (raised nine children , including twins, and ran a boarding house), was married to an abusive, addicted husband.  The patterns of both of our lives and the lives of my other grandmothers were very clear when I wrote this:  Determined, bright women married to abusive spouses.  All four of Vencenzia’s daughters married addicted men – alcoholism, gambling or both.  Her granddaughters married abusive, addicted men. One of those marriages, I believe cost her granddaughter’s life. The same pattern held true for her great-granddaughters, even though they did not have arranged marriages, and psychotherapy and 12-Step programs were available.  One great-granddaughter had her arm broken by her husband.

Yes, I believe these patterns can be broken by our actions and that our granddaughters need not experience the pain we have. It takes a hell of a lot of courage, openness, honesty and willingness to dislodge these patterns. The coat of denial has to be taken off and the lure of people, power and prestige has to be exposed as surrogates for self-esteem.