It’s irrelevant. And relevant.
Meet Sally and A Story on How NOT to Render Yourself Irrelevant.
If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. ~African proverb.
Hello, my dear readers. Thank you for being in my life. 💚
Today’s post is off schedule. I’ve been fully immersed in meetings with Sally—the Tortoise—My Bestie. She is a mighty teacher of grounding in relevance. She balances the playing field. She guides a path of discernment, belonging, and strength laced with tenderness. I love her.
This is an edited version of last week’s post, which didn’t make it to your inbox. Feel free to skim, skip around, enjoy the excellent resources, and comment.
If you like this post, please give it a heart 💚 to help others find my writing. Thank you!
Meet Sally—the guardian of sanity—equanimity—emotional intellignce. She is an old friend. She looks at me—one eye opened and one eye closed.
Arrested. She quietly pulls me over to park my busy arse. There’s no point in arguing with her.
I get it. I stop to remember.
Sally is keenly aware of FOMO, the relentless pushing of masculine energies that race ahead to dominate the playing field with both eyes open—watching, reading, shouting—more, more, more—consume, consume, consume—do more—post more on social media…, ‘kill it—you got this baby—you go girl…’ ad infinitum, achieve the almighty viral post OR you’ll be left behind.
The truth is, my get-up-and-go got up and left.
I don’t miss it, and I couldn’t care less.
I care about different things—like slowing down—not going alone. I care about Sally and what She notices on the inside, her inner life—what is overlooked—pushed under when both eyes are fixed on data. I am passionate about writing to uncover meaning when meaning feels lost or hard to find.
Sally is a protectress; beneath her dome-shaped shell are stories—relevant stories—yours and mine. Untold stories of our mother's bloodlines—yours and mine—of feminine wisdom left behind—the tender strength we can find.
For our children, both inner and outer—ageless, genderless beings within us who require care, tending, and nourishment, day and night—the fierce, exquisite love that grows them into balanced, emotionally mature adults. For the children who were not protected at birth, because the sacred womb of the mother was powered-over, numbed, silenced—interrupted by 'advanced man-made interventions.' For the mothers who were shamed into submission, yet rose with unbeatable courage to do their best.
Children like my Unstoppable Abby who came to my room this morning and whispered,
Mom, I have something to tell you.
What is it, honey?
Lilly canceled. She won’t be able to hang out with me again.
I listened, watching the color drain from her face. I recalled her excitement about setting this date. I remembered all the other times potential friends had texted Abby
Something came up. I can’t hang out.
I care deeply, but I can't fix this social dilemma. I can't change the countless reasons it’s hard for Abby to navigate an able-bodied world. I can’t change the fact that she’s legally blind, unable to bike, walk, or drive to meet up with the young adults she so desperately craves connection with.
Navigating disability—the appearance of difference is hard. I’ve had an up close and uncomfortable view for twenty-seven years.
It’s irrelevant. And relevant.
This is the wisdom Abby left me with as she stood up to leave my room.
What did she mean? Has she been listening to Sally?
Is she suggesting that something can seem unimportant or disconnected in one context, but still hold significance in another? Was she acknowledging the “fucked up’ complexity or contradiction of performative—normative culture?
Was she saying,
'I give up—I’m not good enough,' like so many of us who compare ourselves to others, measuring against an ideal standard of perfection—of normalcy?
The elusive incentives for happiness—a false standard that hardens us, causing us to retreat and hide beneath our shells—render our creativity and emotional genius—our rich inner lives—the web of our connective tissue—irrelevant.
Abby’s in-home support provider arrived. I went to a hot yoga class and collapsed into a puddle of sweat—tears. Belly to the matt. I imagined an umbilical cord from my womb to Mother Earth's womb. I beckoned her to take these tears, these fears, and wash away the sorrow for all people who claim any part of who they are, their work, their creativity, their pleasure, and their yearning for connection as irrelevant.
I signed up for aerial silks for Wednesday nights!
Abby exclaimed as she ran toward me, arms wide open with a smile too big for her face. She hadn’t given up. She remembered an arena of circus performers who had always noticed her, welcomed her, and affirmed her relevance.
Sally like Abby highlights that something can be viewed from different perspectives, making it both irrelevant and relevant, depending on the lens you’re viewing from.
Sally evens the playing field and reminds us to keep one eye closed—to pause and attend to the well within—the inner life—the deep feminine energies that enliven feelings and sensations—to anchor feet to the ground and claim our relevance.
Sally like Abby reveals a purpose beyond what is seen or measured in the topsoil of life. They silence the shoulds and oughts with strong boundaries to protect our relevance—the delicious grasses that weave our stories together—yours and mine.
I Love Her.
This month’s New Earth Report arrived today from my friend and colleague, Sil Read (formerly Sil Reynolds, co-author with Eliza Reynolds), New York Times bestseller of Mothering and Daughtering: Keeping Your Bond Strong. She also wrote the foreword to the second edition of my book, Edge of Grace: Fierce Awakenings to Love.
This report is relevant to this essay.
Today's new moon solar eclipse which initiates the transfer of power to the hands of those who have done the feminine/inner work to reclaim the authority over their life's creation.
This last Libra eclipse in the series is the linchpin that will set us free from the lower-lunar-false feminine forces for good which means we now have the means (plasmic Mother energies) to flip right-side-up out of the inverted matrix to begin the Creation of our new lives (as LOVE) ⇾ at the manifest level.
These are trajectory-shifting energies that complete the Libra karmic/south node journey we began in July 2023 which means major changes in relationship dynamics⇾ beginning with the relationship to Self. As we finish up the Piscean Age (persecution) themes from the lunar eclipse, the Feminine is finally FREE to step into her power...to move beyond that which has been holding each of us back at the Soul level.
Substack provided a generous view of my summer—an external view. You, like Sally and me, know about half measures. I’m reminded of an expression from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous—the Twelve-Step program, paraphrased by me:
Half measures—half seeing availed us nothing. We stood at the edge. We asked Her protection to guide us with feminine care and wisdom.
Sally knows that online activity is NOT the most important thing—for humans. I hope you have not abandoned the pleasure of holding a book in your hands. My relevant summer reads to check out if you like:
• In The Dream House by
• Still Life at Eighty; A Three Dog Life; and Getting Over Tom (my fav) by
•The Part That Burns by
• Descent and Rising by Carly Mountain
• Plant Teachers by Jeremy Narby and Rafael Pizuri
• The Ravaged Bridegroom; Masculine in Women; Addicted to Perfection by Marion Woodman
• Wise Power: Discovering the Liberating Power of Menopause by Alexandra Pose and Sjanie Hugo Wurlitzer
• In Our Right Minds; On the Sacred Feminine, the Right Brain and Restoring Humanity’s Natural Balance
• The Soul of A Woman; and Paula by Isabel Allende
• Unwell Women; Misdoagnoiss and Myth in a Man-made World by Elinor Cleghorn
• This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism by
Thank you Substack but slow down, there’s more reasons— why I look forward to writing, learning, and connecting on Substack.
A few relevant Substacks:
and who humor me to write about that crazy summer job—to dance with a snake; to share my Tattoo story; to write through side doors; to write without an editor; to see the full view; ; ; and…; who read my memoir Edge of Grace: Fierce Awakenings to Love and celebrates the visible and invisible world of motherhood in a way that all mothers deserve. I’m absorbing her generous acknowledgment—the relevance of Her story. I promise to share it soon.Thank you, Sally, for equalizing the situation, centering the subject, not the object, and giving me a pause to acknowledge an abundance of reasons to keep one eye opened and one eye closed; and why my five months on Substack have filled me with wonder, comedy, learning, and meaningful connections…
I get it. I’m slow. Summer is over. Yet here is the Stat.
Top Substacks for the Salty Crone according to Substack
Oldster Magazine by
What Comes Next? by
Top post this summer: Dave
I’d love to hear from you:
What book are you holding in your hands?
Do you have a Sally or an Abby in your life—someone who reminds you to keep one eye open, one eye closed, and never forget your relevance?
Thank you for receiving your dose of The Salty Crone.
with love,
Prajna O’Hara @PrajnaOhara.com
Thank you for the mention, what a nice surprise. I like that we've connected the way we have. I hope things are settling in more for Abby, companion and friend-wise. I'm currently reading Why We Remember: Unlocking Memory's Power to Hold on to What Matters by Charan Ranganath. Not exactly light reading, but having dealt with a memory disorder most of my life, I'm really interested in memory and the way it works, or doesn't. What it was *designed* to do versus what we think it's supposed to do. Ranganath is pretty accessible for a science writer, perhaps because he's not just a scientist, but also musician.
Prajna, I'm honoured that you mentioned me, my publication. Thank you!
I've been reminded, well more than reminded, forced, to slow down this last week. I got sick, and I know it was because I kept hearing my body say, rest, slow down, and I ignored it and kept putting it off until my body took over and I was sick in bed with a miserable cold for a few days. Maybe this time I'll learn the lesson!
I'm reading The Outrun by Amy Liptrot, funnily enough about slowing down and healing and getting away from it all to do that. Hmmm ;)