Beliefnet
The Queen of My Self

The Autumn Queen, who is past Her reproductive years, has never been differentiated in legend from the old Winter Crone, although they are clearly not the same.

The Queen, though not yet old, is quite aware that the passing of time is no longer in Her favor. However, She is not concerned with the business of winding down Her life, but rather living it to the max, before it grows too late. The Queen refuses to go softly into the dark night.

She bursts into glorious flame like a dramatic sunset in the western sky, where Her lingering orange and red cast colors the ambiance of the long evening hours with warm assurance. Dressed in the fabulous splendor of Fall foliage, She is ignited with a fiery patina, glowing from within. She is the fire we have been missing.

As the seasons turn, Her focus gets sharper and more concentrated like the round moon that is waning. To compare the Queen to the waning moon might at first seem negative, as “waning” implies decay, ebbing, deterioration, and loss. But, the energy of the moon is not in decline, nor is it getting smaller in size. The moon is always strong, always full, always brightly reflective. It is only our limited perspective that makes it seem like it is shrinking, darkening, losing its luminous potency, and disappearing into death.

The Queen, like the moon past full, concentrates Her wealth of experience. She is committed to honing, toning, distilling, condensing, defining, refining and honoring Her Self. As She ages, the Queen becomes a rich reduction, infused with the intense bouquet of the flower that She once was, heightened by the fruit that She has become. Like a fine broth or brandy, She is less liquid, more juice.

Trees are not known for their leaves, nor even by their blossoms, but by their fruit.

  -Eleanor of Aquitaine, French/English Queen 1122-1204

The Queen of the Crop surveys Her realm and prepares to take in Her Harvest. But before She gathers in the fruits of Her labors, She must create a sturdy receptacle for Her collection of bounty, a vessel worthy of Her own value.

Our harvest is more than collecting our due. If we are to survive on what we have produced and grown, we have to do more than simply pick our crops. We have to have ways and means of making the supplies last, preserving them safely for the future. The Queen strives to develop sustainable and renewable strategies and sources of support. She is the Queen of the world, divine director and administrator of resources and systems — Her own and those of society around Her.

*****

Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

 

 

The autumn ushers in the dark season. The season of diminished light. From now until the Vernal Equinox, six months hence, the nights are longer than the days. Shade and chill prevail. The year, the season, the sun, are slowing down, growing cold, getting old. The insidious forces of death sweep in and overshadow the vibrant life source.

The air and land, once alive with teeming species, are becoming empty in fall, and mute. Birds leave. Insects nest. Burrowing animals hunker. The trees discard their once-green mantles, shrugging off leaves aglow with the fiery patina of age and sun. Stripped, they emerge skinny and naked, shivering in the wind. The flowering and fruitful plants shrivel and wither and prepare to die with the coming cold. Final fruits, nuts, ripe grains and grasses are gathered in before the fatal first frost.

Fall is the season of the Queen. Fall is like the retirement age of the year. Having weathered the cycles, the rainbows and the storms, the trials and the troubles, the struggles; the teachings of a full life, it is now the season to reap what we have sown. If we planted our seeds in the spring and tended them well — watered and weeded, pruned and staked, mulched and sprayed, propitiated and prayed; and if the weather was willing — enough, but not too much, sun, wind and rain; and if we were lucky — favored by the powers-that-be in the universe; come autumn it is prime time to harvest our crop.

We have lived responsibly, raised our family. We have followed our calling, perfected our craft, participated in community. We have done our job, played our part and paid our dues — not to mention our payments, our taxes. We have worked our ass off. We are ready for a rest. We earned it. We yearn for the freedom and leisure that follows hard work well done. This is the future we have been saving for. In fall, we cash in and collect the fruits of our love and long labor. And so does Mother Earth.

Autumn age provides the perspective of the telescope of time. Here is the potential to ripen to a healthy, golden perfection before the stalk of life is scythed. To propagate the plentiful seeds of genes, of experience, of heritage, of the accumulated wisdom of the generations grown patiently over time. These are the seeds of survival. This is true for plants, too. In the fall of their lives when they are past their prime, as their last productive act and in a grand-finale flurry of display, they go to seed. They issue forth from themselves the fertile means to assure a continuous succession.

The parent plant scatters these precious seeds to the four directions. They send them out on the winds and over the waters. They arrange for them to be delivered in the fur of animal couriers and dispersed from the air by birds and bats. They are given over to the grain harvesters of many species. It is imperative that these wild and domestic seeds find their way back into the earth womb to germinate and grow again. This accomplished, their lives complete, their genetic deed done, they die. Their decomposing leaves and stalks serve to cover the embryonic seed asleep in the cold ground. Even in death, they serve to nourish new life.

Autumn, then, is inexorably associated with ripe maturity, harvest and death, as well as the implicit understanding of an eventual rebirth, the offer of resurrection. Just as the dying sun is sure to return, so, too, will the seeds buried deep in the dark, begin to sprout come springtime. This potent promise of prospective plenitude sustains us through the empty-stomach months.

Happy Fall, Queens!

*****

Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

 

Every Woman Is The Queen of Her Own Heart

By Shiloh Sophia McCloud


Every woman is the Queen of her own heart.

She must decide how to govern her own domain.

She seeks friends and allies that honor

who she is now

and who she is becoming.

She has the power to create miracles.

Her prayers and intentions manifest in right order.

 

She does not know how

or when her needs will be met,

but she trusts the will of the Divine.

Being the Queen of one’s domain is not about being

the ruler over anyone else’s life or ideas.

And it isn’t even about calling herself a Queen.

It is about self honor. It is about choice.

It is about knowing her limits

and setting her boundaries.

And about encouraging others

to live their possibilities.

It is about learning how to live

with what comes her way,

with as much grace,

majesty and justice as she can.

 

And sometimes, yes, she has to have her own way!

She claims her unique destiny and recognizes

she has a calling.

A calling to greatness within her own life.

And within her own heart.

 

The Queen of Her Own Heart isn’t something she does,

it is a way that she is.

When she if full, bountiful

and living from the overflow

she invites others to join her there –

in the middle of her awakened sacred heart.

She encourages others to love powerfully – unconditionally –

while at the same time practicing discernment

and wisdom.

 

She is forgiving. And she believes healing is at hand.

She leads her own life as grand experiment

in happiness, in creativity, and in abundance.

She offers her gifts to others,

but not to her own detriment.

She rests as she needs to,

ruling one’s own life takes energy.

She chooses to embody wholeness, her sovereign essence,

even when she feels fragmented

by all there is to do, and be.

 

She holds the prayers of the world within her

because she cares what happens – with everyone –

even though she cannot reach them all.

She reaches whom she can.

She often feels like she is not pulling it all off,

and sometimes she isn’t.

But she keeps reaching anyway.

She keeps opening her heart

and being in her own power.

She chooses to govern her life in gratitude.

*****

Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

 

 

 

QUEEN REGNANT

PRONUNCIATION:

(kween REG-nuhnt)

MEANING:

noun: A queen reigning in her own right, as opposed to one having a royal title by marriage. Also known as queen regent.

ETYMOLOGY:

From Latin regnare (reign). Ultimately from the Indo-European root reg- (to move in a straight line, to lead or rule) that is also the source of regime, direct, rectangle, erect, rectum, alert, source, and surge.

The wife of a ruling king is known as a Queen Consort. The husband of a queen regnant would be a king consort, though usually he is called a prince.

A queen ruling during the youth, disability, or absence of a monarch is known as a Queen Regent.

Queen Regnants are we. We are the Queens of Our Selves. Self-knowing, Self-determining, Self-empowered, Self-ruling, Self-satisfied, Self- loving.

 

 My command stands firm like the mountains and

the sun disk shines and spreads rays over the

titulary of my august person, and my falcon rises

high above the kingly banner unto all eternity.

 

       -Hatshepsut, Egyptian Queen/Pharaoh

       1503-1482 BC

*****

Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.