Something is burning!

There hasn't been a great deal to report on matters menopausal for some time. In fact, even now I am not sure why I am posting. Just to say nothing much - how radical! But it is really. My body is very slowly changing, like the slow uncoiling of that snake. Cycles are still erratic - just when I think it's all over - that ole trickster waves the flag again. But, it's not much of a problem really- just dig out the pads and slow down. I have not experienced any flooding or suchlike. Then, a few days later my womb goes back to sleep for a while.

I am incredibly lucky though.  I am able to listen to my body - go for a nap, or get out in the fresh air, or just sit in the rocking chair if I feel the need.

If I was still working in the hospital, or in a call centre, shop or running the country for that matter, I would not be able to heed those cues.  I would ignore them - push them aside as inconveniences and carry on regardless.

What would happen then?  Would my body begin to ramp up those so called "symptoms"?  Would the crone begin to shout louder  - would there be lots of blood, sweat and tears?
Would I make haste to my GP and ask to be taken out of my misery?  Cured of my disorder?  A medical problem that was only discovered (read invented) by a male gynaecologist in the mid 1960s.  Would I contribute to the ever open maw that is the bank account of Big Pharma?

Yes, I guess I might.

I could be facing a poverty stricken retirement and needing to boost my pension as much as I could.  I could be struggling as a lone mother with teenage children to support, I could be at the very top of my chosen career - one I had sacrificed a lifetime for.  I could be - well, fill in your own blanks.  The point is, menopause is inconvenient in the workplace, as is pregnancy and motherhood, as is menstruation.  It does not belong in this capitalist system and must be at best, ignored, or,more likely,  treated as a deviance.

When did those witch burnings end? They're back! Women are burning each day, through having to ignore the cries of their own bodies. The disorder they call menopause -" the tragedy of menopause", as Dr Wilson, (that esteemed gynaecologist called it), - could be caused by - well - working for The Man.

Phew! I'm feeling pretty warm myself, now that I have thought through this. I have absolutely no evidence for any of it either - it just sort of flowed from somewhere within. 
I do feel very thankful, every day, that I am able to embrace this time of life.  I have known, since I began this journey, that if I welcomed The Crone, I need not fear her - for she is me, and I her. 

Since I last posted here, I have lost my own Mother.  I thank you all again for the support and love shown in other places.  But now, I am here - the Head Woman of my small tribe.  I am the keeper of those traditions and memories.  It is an awesome responsibility, and I am glad She is with me.
As we head into a New Year, my wish for you is, that if you have heard that knocking, however timidly, rush to fling the door open and embrace Her who stands within you.  Then you will be blessed.

The short cut taken...

I have had my hair cut really short!  Twice, in fact, because the first hairdresser was too scared to do what I wanted, so I let her compromise, but within the week I went to another salon and got the job finished.
I think I love it.
Sometimes though, I see myself in the mirror and blink - who is that?  For most of my life, with the exception of one or two short lived incidents, (probably in the 1980s)  I have always worn it halfway down my back with a centre parting and a fringe.  I always said I wanted to have very long silver hair done in braids, and I still may do that.  I was getting annoyed with it though, mainly because of the colour - a combination of white and pewter for almost half the length and the original reddish brown the rest of the way, and also I felt a real deep need for a change. That is what this stage is all about, after all.
Once I had decided, I could not settle until the deed was done - and, despite the false start, I am happy with it.  sometimes I think I look older, and other times I look like my first school photo, taken when I was around 4.5.  A  strange and wonderful combination of maiden and crone.  So it is quite liberating, in a sense.  Anyone who has not been passionately addicted to long hair may not understand.  Before, if I deviated from my normal hairstyle, I immediately started to grow it back - I 'missed' my face.  This time, I feel free of that -my face is my own and seems to be timeless. I feel lighter now that I no longer have that heavy curtain to keep pulling back.  I can look the world in the eye, without peering through the veil.  All those clichés seem just right for how I am feeling about this particular change right now, and if I fancy those silver braids later on, well I can change again.