Crone's Day
Demeter, Baubo, and the holy act of letting go
Today, July 1st, is Crone’s Day. This ancient Roman festival celebrated the rite of aging, the passage of time, and the Goddess in her Crone or Hag form—the Wise Woman. As this Crone’s Day falls during the waning crescent moon, a time of shedding and letting go, it feels especially potent to me this year.
One of the quintessential Crone figures of mythology is the Greek harvest and fertility goddess, Demeter. Demeter is the mother of Persephone, who becomes Queen of the Underworld after she is kidnapped and tricked by Hades, the king of the underworld. This treachery is the catalyst for Demeter’s transformation. Judika Illes, author of the Encyclopedia of Witchcraft, tells Demeter’s story this way:
Demeter, Greek goddess of fertility and cultivation, is usually described as a mature, beautiful woman whose golden hair resembles fields of ripe wheat, but when her beloved daughter Persephone was kidnapped, Demeter shed her beauty like a snake sheds its skin, transforming into a hag. In an instant, she aged, becoming gray, wrinkled, and bent over. The light disappeared from her eyes. She was emotionally bereft, burning with grief, rage, and a passionate desire for justice.
As Demeter transformed, she withdrew fertility from Earth; crops failed, people began to starve. In her hag aspect, however, the normally benevolent Demeter doesn’t care: her own grief overwhelms her to the exclusion of anyone else’s. To some extent, Demeter in her grieving stage is the prototype for the Hag1.
Traditionally, Demeter and Persephone’s story has been viewed as an allegorical explanation for the seasons: during the winter Demeter grieves her daughter and the earth “dies” only to be reborn again in the spring when Persephone returns. However, this explanation, in Illes’ words: “tends to gloss over the emotional and spiritual aspects of her saga: Demeter doesn’t just become an average old woman; she transforms into the epitome of a Hag specifically because of her intense grief, rage, and loss.” Demeter doesn’t simply remain a Hag until Persephone returns, her rage and grief is assuaged through an outrageously simple and profound act of friendship and connection.
Demeter rages and grieves, starving Earth and herself, until an aged (a crone but not a hag) female servant, Baubo, finally draws an involuntary laugh from Demeter. Baubo accomplishes this, where others failed, through the mysterious act of ana-suromai, the name given the ritual act of exposing the vagina. This act, which also features in Egyptian mythology, is believed to represent the eternal life force, the unbeatable power of the Great Mother. The significance in Demeter’s situation is that the ritual act is performed by an old woman for whom literal fertility is not possible. From the moment of her reviving laugh, according to the saga, Demeter channels her private grief into spiritual leadership.
I understand Demeter. I, too, have lost a daughter—and a sister, and after each loss have cocooned myself within the Hag state. While I have previously used the terms “Hag” and “Crone” interchangeably, this story illustrates the importance of separating them. The hag is completely absorbed by her own personal circumstances and driven by her own feelings to the exclusion of all others. It is, I think, a common and even necessary stage of grief. Taylor’s Swift’s album Reputation is, to me, a musical tribute to this Hag state (her visualization of a hag looks a lot different from the traditional Hag, but if you watch the music videos from that album you’ll see what I mean). Any deep grief—loss of a job, of your reputation and/or internal/external image of yourself, of a relationship, etc.—can and often does result in spending some amount of time as a hag. This state can also come and go. I found it helpful when looking back at these times to picture myself as a hedgehog: when I felt the need to roll up in order to survive, even those who were trying to help me were going to get pricked and I really couldn’t bring myself to care at the time. Hags are not sociopaths; we are just so emotionally and mentally overloaded that we literally have not a fuck left to give. Honor the process, forgive yourself, and hope to Goddess there’s a Baubo in your friend group.
Baubo helped Demeter save herself by reminding her who she is. Demeter had lost her daughter, yes; but she was also still a mother and the entire world depended on her. Knowing people and the awkward way we tend to react to the grief of others, Demeter had very likely already been reminded of this, even lectured on it. Knowing how I would have reacted to this kind of lecture, it probably pissed Demeter off even more (think: hailstorm or blizzard). Maybe Baubo’s timing was just lucky; Demeter was finally ready to hear what she needed to hear. Maybe it was because Baubo’s act was both intimate and humorous, she knew Demeter well enough to make her laugh even in the throes of her grief. Maybe what Demeter needed was to be mothered, and Baubo was, in a rather odd way, offering a lap and a shoulder to cry on. Maybe she was reminding Demeter that Demeter is and always will be Woman, and as such is endlessly capable of remaking herself2. Maybe it was a combination of these factors.
I can relate to needing a bit of jolt to snap out of my Hag state. Several weeks after my daughter was stillborn I met another mother of a stillborn baby at my local bank who was honest enough with me for me to realize that she had been a hag for years. I looked in the proverbial mirror and saw myself in her face, and I said no fucking way. That was not going to be me. A stranger was my Baubo. A year later, a distant relative whom I admired told me that losing her baby had been the best thing that ever happened to her and her family. Another shock; I recoiled, but I filed it away under “hope” just the same. She was my Baubo. The spirit of Baubo is alive in the world, and when you need her she will find you. There is no preparing for an encounter with her, to be effective she must take you by surprise. Let her. Trust her. Follow her lead and release that which is holding you back from transforming your grief into power. On this Crone’s Day, I am practicing holding my grief in open hands.
Thank you, Great Mother, for Baubo: She Who Empowers Us To Let Go.
Illes, Judika. Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World. United States, HarperCollins, 2015.
The great power of the Feminine is the ability to create and recreate. It is our birthright; not only available to biological women, but also to anyone who chooses to lean into their nurturing side. For further study into the protective and transformational symbolism of the vagina, see: Lubell, Winifred Milius. The Metamorphosis of Baubo: Myths of Women’s Sexual Energy. Vanderbilt University Press, 1994.