Slow Pursuits

I was having a good chat with a fellow get-your-hands-dirty crafter — far more talented and experienced than I am — and we landed on something we share besides the craft. We both hate gardening. Not passively. Actively. We each have a beautiful outdoor space, and we’re each perfectly happy to let someone else find their joy in keeping it that way.

For me, there’s a literal reason. I’m allergic to nearly everything, and I break out in welts every time I handle a plant. I used to make gorgeous container arrangements for the front entry of my home — a half-dozen homes ago. Eventually, I admitted that no glove, cream, or medication could keep the itch at bay, and I stopped.

But the dislike runs deeper than the welts, because here’s what I keep noticing: every list of “pursuits for aging people” includes gardening. Every single one. And I’d like to know who keeps writing these lists. Everyone I know over fifty is already negotiating with a back, a knee, a hip, a shoulder — some stiff joint that files a formal complaint by mid-afternoon. Most of them would prefer to play a game of pickleball and ice the ache afterward rather than spend hours on the ground pulling weeds. Or maybe that’s just me.

Because here’s what I’ve come to believe: those lists aren’t really about hobbies. They’re about expectations — a slow narrowing of what a woman’s later years are allowed to look like. Slow down. Settle. Take up something gentle, tidy, and out of the way. I’m not interested. My list isn’t quiet, and it certainly isn’t shrinking.

While I’m being honest: I finally admitted to myself a few weeks ago, when I casually called myself “middle-aged,” that it isn’t quite true anymore. I’ve got three or four years left where I can say it with a straight face. Time marches forward, not backward, and I’d best wrap my head around it.

So here is my actual list — non-negotiable, and forever evolving:

• Planning and hosting women’s gatherings at the Crone Playground

• Reading — literary magazines, novels by my favourite authors, non-fiction that leans into raging feminism, philosophy and physics

• Writing, journaling, morning pages

• Photography

• Gentle movement: walking, swimming, tai chi, reformer Pilates, even some strength training

• Travel and exploring

• Workshops, lectures, and courses, anything that challenges me to expand my knowledge

• Unapologetic binge-watching

• Learning, endlessly: watercolour, preserving, jigsaw puzzles, card games, backgammon, wood carving, printmaking, Canva, Instagram, Substack — whatever tool is next

• Walking my backyard labyrinth, or down to Scubby’s Point

• Meditation

• Sitting on my porch with no distractions, watching the weather and the neighbours (with their dogs) pass by

• Marking the Sabbats with a ceremonial nod — my practices are consistent, if low-key

• Watching ballet and opera, and touring museums online

• My “woo” pursuits: salt spells, simmer pots, alignment rituals, smudging, the pendulum, energy clearing, tuning forks, colour theory, and more

• Taking care of myself — the RMTs, the osteopath, the acupuncturist, the hairstylist, the aesthetician, the dentist

• Supporting local businesses, especially women-owned and women-run. I am grateful to be able to contribute and support our local economy

And I suppose I can add one more: restarting the Crone Rising with Lee Currie podcast — this time with help, so I can focus on the part I love (conversations with fellow Crones) and hand the tech and editing to someone who actually enjoys it.

There is never a dull moment around here.

Years ago, I decided not to retire. Because — from what, exactly? And into what? I never went back to a full-time paycheque after my second of four was born, so in a sense I’ve been on extended maternity leave ever since. Full-time work, just not full-time pay. Homemaker and mother: lousy wages, worse benefits. But there was joy in it, and challenge, and growth — and there still is, in all of this.

So no, I won’t be taking up gardening. I’ll be over here, working my way down a list I chose — nobody handed it to me.

What’s on yours? What are your non-negotiables?

* Relevance. Ritual. Rebellion. *

Journal prompt: Write your own list — not the one handed to you for your age, but the one that’s actually yours. The pursuits you’d defend out loud. Then look for any you’ve been quietly calling “indulgent,” and ask who taught you to call them that.

Thanks for being here. If something in this landed, tap the heart or pass it along to a woman who’s busy writing her own list.