Somewhere in the Middle

Girl Before a Mirror by Pablo Picasso

Who is this girl and what is she feeling? On the left, a symbol of vibrancy, fertility, firmness--a time of richness and color--more sun than moon on face. This girl on the left reaching out to the future self she sees in the mirror, a self that is distorted and fading, a self that feels irrelevant and diminished. In a world, where youth is god and wisdom is null and void, how do we, as women, unite these two selves? The past and the future, the was and will be, the external and the internal, the immortal and the mortal.

I spend so much time with older women, aged women, beautiful women who are marginalized and invisible. Perhaps this song by Dar Williams, "You're Aging Well" will minister to your soul.

Why is it that as we grow older and stronger

The road signs point us adrift and make us afraid

Saying, "You never can win," "Watch your back," "Where's your husband?"

Oh I don't like the signs that the sign makers made.

So I'm going to steal out with my paint and my brushes

I'll change the directions, I'll hit every street

It's the Tinseltown scandal, the Robin Hood vandal

She goes out and steals the King's English

And in the morning you wake up and the signs point to you

They say,

"I'm so glad that you finally made it here,"

"You thought nobody cared, but I did, I could tell,"

And "This is your year," and "It always starts here,"

And oh, "You're aging well."

Well I know a woman with a collections of sticks

She could fight back the hundreds of voices she heard

And she could poke at the greed, she could fend off her need

And with anger she found she could pound every word.

But one voice got through, caught her up by surprise

It said, "Don't hold us back we're the story you tell,"

And no sooner than spoken, a spell had been broken

And the voices before her were trumpets and tympani

Violins, basses and woodwinds and cellos, singing

"We're so glad that you finally made it here

You thought nobody cared, but we did, we could tell

And now you'll dance through your days while the orchestra plays

And oh, you're aging well."

Now when I was fifteen, oh I knew it was over

The road to enchantment was not mine to take

'Cause lower calf, upper arm should be half what they are

I was breaking the laws that the sign makers made

And all I could eat was the poisonous apple

And that's not at story I was meant to survive

I was all out of choices, but the woman of voices

She turned round the corner with music around her,

She gave me the language that keeps me alive, she said

"I'm so glad that you finally made it here

With the things you know now, that only time could tell

Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are

And oh, you're aging, oh, and I am aging, oh, aren't we aging well?"