There was a time when the wisdom of elders was integral to the survival of the tribe. Their voices sought before major decisions, and their insight valued.
The elders held the vision, not only for the present, but for the generations to come. They were the keepers of deep knowing, consulted not just for guidance but as a living bridge between the past, present and future.
But in modern Western culture, elders are often made invisible. Hidden away, treated as burdens rather than wisdom keepers. The discomfort around ageing is palpable. Society does not want to face mortality, wrinkles, physical decline, the slow dissolution of youth.
We have lost not only the connection with the elder archetype, but the rites of eldership itself.
Like so many rites of passage, the conscious initiation into eldership has largely disappeared from modern Western culture. I see menopause and andropause as thresholds that bring changes not only to our bodies, but also to our relationship with ourselves and our expression in the world, if approached and moved through as an initiatory portal.
In astrology, second Saturn return is another eldership initiation marker, inviting us to harvest our contribution, what has been lived, and what wants to emerge with the next creative expression in the third age of life.
For me, the initiation lies not simply in passing through these thresholds, but in how deeply we are willing to meet and enter them, unravel, surrender to the cocoon of transformation, and emerge reborn on the other side. Having passed through both menopause and my second Saturn return, I am in the exploration of these themes in my own emergence. And one of the way my creativity and contribution has found a new expression is through art, as both legacy and living current.
Questions that may arise during this rebirth are What is our legacy. And How might we contribute to the Earth and future generations?
One of the gifts of eldership is not in holding on to power, recognition or visibility, but in the generosity and spaciousness that opens on the other side of initiation. This creates a different relationship with the generations that follow, one that honours both the wisdom of what has been lived and the new expressions of life still emerging.
There is a natural passion and urgency that comes along with youth, to bring a new vision into being. Sometimes viewing the past through the lens of now, without yet seeing the longer evolutionary cycles of life in which it is unfolding.
Having lived through more of these cycles, elders can become wisdom keepers of their rhythms, carrying a living memory of what has been, while remaining open to what is still becoming. Through the harvest of their own gifts and shadows, there can emerge a humility and spaciousness, a wisdom in remembering what is essential without needing to preserve its form.
From this place, some of the gifts of eldership are the generosity of sharing that harvest, with the discernment to know when to offer wisdom and when to rest in quiescence. And also to bless and support the next turn of the evolutionary spiral unfolding through the next generations.
Beneath these portals of initiation lies an even greater rite of passage: our relationship with death itself, our own mortality. That place that brings us closer to depth of meaning and into a more intimate relationship with the present moment and life itself.
There is a quality of vibrational presence that emerges when life has been fully lived, experiences have been reflected upon and integrated, and the need to prove or become someone or something begins to give way to a deeper surrender, listening and more spacious way of being.
For me, Elderwoman speaks to an expression of eldership that is rooted in the Earth, yet alive to the unfolding of life.
She carries the harvest of her years, the gifts, the rites of passages through which experience is alchemised into wisdom, while remaining connected to what is still becoming.
She carries a presence that cannot be hurried or taught, but arises through deep listening, silence and a life fully lived.
Beside her, the ceremonial drum is both heartbeat and prayer.
