I can’t remember experiencing a more chaotic Samhain season. I entered it expecting stillness and reflection but found myself on a rollercoaster of family needs, losses, and surprises.
In an attempt to process the unpredictability of it all, I did what I always do when life feels too full, I opened my journal. It’s the most effective way I know to hear what’s really happening beneath the noise.
As I wrote, I tried to look at this month not as scattered pieces but as a whole story. Beneath the surface chaos, I found something I wasn’t expecting, a quiet recognition that something within me was changing.
As an adoptee, I have always viewed my spirituality as The Path of the Mother. Yes, I’m a witch, but for me, that has always meant devotion, healing, and care. My practice has been an ongoing act of mending—within myself, my family, and the world around me.
My house is full right now. My daughter returned home with my grandson while she rebuilds her life, and my eldest grandchild arrived on Tuesday for a visit. I welcome this with open arms, but it is a change. Our home has always, and will likely continue to be, a revolving door when it comes to family.
As I watched myself move in and out of the Mother role, I noticed something subtle yet undeniable. Alongside the Mother, another presence was standing. The Crone.
She’s not a stranger at my door. At sixty-seven, I’ve long known she was near. But I’ve always identified most strongly with the Mother because of how my life is structured. The Crone, however, doesn’t replace the Mother. She sits beside Her.
She doesn’t announce herself with thunder. She simply walks in, takes off her shawl, and says, “Let’s stop pretending we don’t already know.”
Her message to me was clear:
It’s time to rest your hands and raise your lantern.
The Mother gives life and keeps it moving. The Crone holds up the lantern and offers wisdom. She’s the one who knows when to stop pouring, when to watch instead of rescue, when to use her light to illuminate the path and whisper, “You’ve got this part.”
I’m not losing the Mother. I’m consciously sharing space with the Crone.
The Crone doesn’t discard my earlier selves. She gathers them. She carries the Maiden’s wonder, the Mother’s devotion, the wanderer’s grief, and she weaves them into clear-sighted compassion. She’s the one who can look at the whole pattern without flinching.
I realized I had experienced an internal re-balancing. My energy shifted from output to illumination. I’ve spent a lifetime feeding everyone else’s fires. The Crone arrived to teach me how to feed and tend others’ flames with breath, not fuel.
This is also a gift to my family, especially my daughters.
The Mother says, “Here, let me do this for you.”
The Crone says, “Here’s what I’ve learned. Try it your way, and I’ll hold the light.”
That shift creates space for them to rise, and for me to rest in wisdom rather than worry.
May we learn to guide without carrying, to illuminate without burning out and to know that wisdom can be as quiet as breathing.
Journal Prompts for the Gateway Between Mother & Crone
- What am I avoiding seeing in myself?
- What emotion or story keeps returning, asking to be witnessed?
- What does the darkness want to give me, not take from me?
- What in me is ending, even if I’m still pretending it isn’t?
- Where in my life do I sense a doorway but haven’t yet stepped through?
- If I could walk into a different version of myself tonight, what would she be carrying?
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