The old woman, the mountain, and the time that is always now
Will you give your life to the deep green force of creation?
During a writing and somatic alchemy workshop with Stella Stathi, MA, I had a vision of myself as an old woman standing on a mountaintop hanging out with Greek goats.
“Be not afraid,” she said to me.
“Yes, your feet are unsteady, and if you look down, there is an abyss. But you've already been there. You know its depths. You've feared falling, and you've found yourself fallen.
Or did you choose it? Did you take those perilous steps down to meet yourself in the dark?,” She paused, knowing the answer.
“But did you not also meet root and stone? The bedrock of what was always meant to be.
Do what you know you need to do. Start now. The time is always now.”
White Mountains, Chania, Greece
Or something like that. I'm pulling from old journal notes, yet her voice is still present. The old woman calls to me again.
Today, I’ve been sorting through my many, many journals—tracing patterns and noticing themes. As any good cultural anthropologist does.
In just over nine weeks, I’ll turn 50. This time feels like a threshold, a space to integrate and understand the path I’ve walked so far. Since late October, therapy has been unearthing more than I expected, bringing long-buried layers to the surface. More abyss walking than mountain climbing.
In the coming months, I'll continue this deep work. I’ve also set aside nine days—before, during, and after my birthday—to be with myself, to mark the passage into the next phase of my life.
Not to chase answers or force meaning, but to listen. To honour where I’ve been, the depths I've known, and the steady ground beneath me now.
I think of the old woman on the mountain, walking with ease among the goats. She was once afraid--she had known the abyss all too well. But she also knew the way down and the way back up. And that knowing steadied her. This gives me strength.
Because the time is always now. The path is already beneath my feet.
Our journeys are as important as our destinations. Reflecting on the paths we've taken can offer profound insights into who we are and who we're becoming.
