The Goddess and Her Son/Sun

When I was pregnant with my son Alex, I was gifted the book “The Cosmic Mother” by Monica Sjoo.

I had been going through some really profound and confusing things around the archetype of “Mother”, and my mom’s witchy friend (who was a guy, and became a huge figure in my life) thought I needed the book.

It was an old used copy that he found at a rummage sale. He said he just felt it was for me, so he purchased it and brought it home.

Reading that book I had my very first, almost “psychedelic” awakening.

There were so many pieces that dropped in. I was enamored by something profound in Monica’s artwork. I “remembered” something very old about myself.

This Pregnancy was a time for me when a lot of my own unconscious mother wounding was coming up.

At some point during my pregnancy, I got the idea to do a ceremony with a red thread by tying it around my very big belly. The purpose of which was to tie myself to Her. I no longer saw myself as adopted by my adoptive Mother, but rather, I saw myself as The Daughter of the Great Cosmic Mother. And my Mom, Betsy, became my earthly steward.

As a pregnant young, “motherless” teenager I knew for the first time who my real Mother was.

The very same copy of that book sits on my altar today.

Something I’ve been somewhat reluctant to speak too, until now, is the deep connection between the work I do in the world, and Being and Mother of Loss.

It is the Venusian thread, this lineage, that brought to the Earth the codes of Birth, Death, and Resurrection.

Of the Goddesses who held and embodied this Red Thread, so many of them are the avatars of the Mother/Son Dyad.

It’s a common part of the Mythos. The Goddess looses her Son.

There are so many dyadic pairs all throughout this lineage. The most famous in our time being Mary and Jesus.

Mother and son/sun worship was the basis of the ancient religions that sprung up from Sumer. In the various religions of the world, the same system of worship was perpetuated under different names. In Egypt , the mother and child were worshiped as Isis and Osiris or Horus, in India as Isi and Iswara, in China and Japan as the mother goddess Shing-moo with child, in Greece as Ceres and Plutus, in Rome as Fortuna and Jupitor-puer.

Prior to Tanner’s death I was in complete and utter devotion to two things. My children, and my work with the Venus cycle. And coming into an embodied gnosis with all parts of it. So that I could teach it powerfully.

Being a Mother has been the North Star of my life. Something I’ve held as an exceptionally sacred duty. So important to me, that I became a childbirth and postpartum doula, because I knew how important this kind of care was to establishing a bond between the mother child dyad. It was something that I didn’t have, and wanted to be able to give to other mothers.

Ironically, of all of my own children, Tanner was the only one who didn’t have the caccooning of a proper postpartum. I had to return to work 2 weeks after he was born. It’s the thing I have grieved the most across his life. Knowing that the rest of the kids received the attachment care that they needed. Yet he did not.

Astonishingly, even so, our bond was so tight. I love all of my children of course, but Tanner was the one that REALLY loved me.

The one that went out of his way to make special gestures to show his love. It’s a constant topic of conversation now in our remembrance of him. And something my other sons are trying to emulate in honor of him.

He was a son, a lover, (in the most innocent way) and a protector of Mom.

It was this stunted postpartum with Tanner, that spurred the passion around helping other moms establish adequate support so they wouldn’t go through what we did.

My children and journey with Motherhood has undoubtedly been my biggest teacher. But when I look across my life, so often it was Tanner specifically who inspired big turnings.

I spoke on the podcast with Po, about how parenting a child like Tanner fortifies a Mother with incredible strength and resilience.

But It wasn’t until after Tanner died, and my friend Colleen said something about Mary and the loss of Jesus, and how she saw something in that for me, that I made the connection to Venus, and the Rose Line.

Quietly, this has traveled with me this year. At first I felt shame, as though somehow my utter devotion to Venus, and embodying her mysteries meant “I called in this experience”.

The mind thinks totally irrational things in the beginning of grief. I’ve come to thoroughly understand the absurdity of this, which is why I can speak to this now.

What his death has offered is a doorway to explore yet another facet of this lineage from a different point on the hologram. And explore it I will. Because I cannot ignore that it’s here. I’ve been brought to it. So it will be integrated into my work.

Isis, went to gather the pieces of her lover/son after his death. And I think there is something for bereaved people in gathering the wisdom, or breadcrumbs that sprout within grief.

I now know exactly how these two threads weave together. Death in service to Life.

So with that said, I’ve begun a free support series for the newly bereaved.

We are all a little orphaned in the west. Being cut off from our own deep heritage. This lack of container to receive death in, is quite destabilizing.

So in this series, I’m speaking to the things I needed to hear. What helped me early on. The kinds of permission I needed. Etc. Being destabilized is totally fine in the early days. In fact I think it’s necessary. I just want to offer a warm voice, to speak life into loss. Simple.

If you know someone in the throes of early grief who is looking for “something”, they often do not know what… feel free to send them here. These are free writings and podcast episodes.

One of the things I’ve loved about Monica Sjoo’s art is how often and in many different ways she she depicts lineage. There is either a direct mother child dyad. A snake, a string, a spiral, a labyrinth, or a symbolic vagina.l opening.

Art Monica Sjoo.