Happy Super Full Moon in Capricorn. In ancient times Capricorn was symbolized by the Seagoat, who was connected to the invisible mysteries as well as visible earth. It also represents the Council of Grandmothers, the wisdom of the Wise Elders, who can help us build and manifest a long lasting foundation for life anchored in the heart.
As the Sun entered Cancer at the Solstice June 21, beginning our Summer in the Northern hemisphere we gathered the imaginative stories spun at the Gemini new moon. Perhaps Grandmother Spider Woman is spinning a new tale. There is new light streaming on to our planet to help us spin new stories. To “Restore What Matters Most” as the maintenance truck outside my home reminds me this morning.
*“The Creator is a Woman and her name is love.” Hildegard of Bingen
At the Solstice the Sun was at 1 degree Cancer (the heart and home of the Mother). The Sabian symbol for that sun degree is: “On a ship the sailors lower an old flag and raise a new one.”
Can you imagine the new flag you want on your ship?
For Saturn (timekeeper, do your work) retrograde in Pisces at 8 degrees: Sabian symbol A girl blowing a bugle. What is the call she heralds for you? It does not have to be big. It does not have to be heavy.
Following our Dharma, soul assignment, kuleana can be, must be, a joyful journey if we are to live in freedom.
Venus/Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth, is now bright in the night sky as the Evening Star. With Mars, in Leo, she has risen to reclaim her crown and shine. She is the bridge builder between civilizations.
We need to remember the sacred stories of our own wild souls and the wild Feminine soul of the world.
“Rememberment” comes after dismemberment. It describes where I have been.
In late winter 2022 and early 2023 I was felled by a series of illnesses and afflictions, including Covid, the flu and frequent migraines which obscured my vision. Many nights I could not sleep for coughing. It took everything to stay present in each moment. To just breathe. To accept. To not allow scary storylines to take over. It helped to realize we are all in a crucible of chaos and change. Even the earth herself, and our sun, are undergoing massive shifts in energy. I prayed, a lot. Some powerful, helpful dreams came:
At the beginning of this long season of shedding an old skin, I dreamed a single scene: Three women lie curled together under plain, rough, brown blankets in a bare room. It could be a prison cell, or perhaps a hospital room a hundred years ago. Two women are curled around the middle one, who is pregnant. One of the other women is old, the other young. They are protecting, nurturing, comforting.
This dream assured me that I would survive, and that something was growing, to be birthed. The three hugging women curled in a triple spiral like the Celtic triskele. Maiden, Mother, Crone. Birth, death, rebirth. This anchored me to a bigger story. Other visions accompanied me, gratefully.
Our Lady of Guadalupe was in my heart. Sekhmet, holding white peonies, stood by.
Surrendered, I felt acutely the sufferings of Mother Earth. Felt my own grief for the many species dying or threatened. The state of our ocean and rivers. The loss of forests, habitat, sacred lands. The loss of sovereignty for women’s rights in the USA. The cruel treatment of minorities and children. The many refugees and exiles caught in wars or climate disasters throughout the world.
Navigating by starlight, tracking the earth wisdom of my body, I moved slowly. Deeper studies and more consultations in astrology brought gold.
By Spring, I was gratefully recovered but greatly changed. What now? With limited time and energy I must only do the one thing I cannot not do.
I decided to give up a very satisfying part of my business to focus on my deepest, oldest, truest visions. Where the deepest joy and my heart of hearts resides. This came together as a word: Motherworld.
In April I had a dream about the “Motherworld”, which reminded me of the first one in 2016 and the work I was doing then:
Early in the morning of November 9th, 2016, I woke after a few hours of restless and worried sleep to the news that Trump had won the Presidential election. Almost immediately I threw up. My head felt cracked open, every bone in my body ached. But I had a class to teach, the 5th of a 6 week online course called The Way of the Wild Feminine. Ironically, the theme, the direction for that week was the Way of the North. The place of the Give-Away. Where we would gather our wisdom, our medicine, on behalf of the next seven generations to leave our legacy of love. It was intended to be an inspiring class, with joyful, magical Hummingbird Medicine and Grandmother Spider Woman creativity. I fully expected we would be celebrating the election of our first woman President and sharing exciting dreams about the future world. I had to find a way to teach. Dozens of women from around the world would be showing up. Many of the women were from other parts of the world – UK, Mexico, New Zealand- and I didn’t know how closely they were following our election. Would Trump’s victory be relevant to them? Most importantly, I was sick as a dog and barely able to drive to my office. As I drove, trying not to throw up, I prayed to every saint, angel, Goddess, sacred animal, I could think of to help. Finally I called to Sophia: Please help me. I cannot do this alone. Please stand by me and hold my hand? A distinct voice answered; I will not stand by you, I will be there as you.”
Immediately I sighed and sank into my seat at the wheel.
The class was electric. Awakened to their power, the women rose up in their rage, voices strong, and made promises to their future. I remembered a short dream from the morning: In the back of the room where I am teaching, there is a group of multicultural women looking at a large, beautiful book of womens’ life stories and art, called “Motherworld”.
The class finished the following week, invoking the directions of Above, Below and Within to root ourselves in our hearts. But I rather dismissed the dream scene of that book in the back of the room. Honestly, I thought the title was too soft. Too mushy. Mothers! What power do they have to change the world?
The second Motherworld dream came this year on April 5, 2023. In the predawn darkness, I drove to the airport for an early flight to Hawaii with my son and his family, the next generations. Beloveds. My destination Maui, risen from the Pacific more than a million years ago, is known to be one of the sacred places for the Earth heart chakra.
The Libra Full moon, “Pink Moon”, also refers to the heart chakra. It was gorgeous, golden and soft. Pregnant in darkness as I was with this dream:
I am at a forest resort, a spa, or a very comfortable campground with a group of women healers, teachers, authors, creatives for the New Earth. We are in the redwood grove, a lovely wooded area, with many fragrant pine trees also around. And hot tubs. A think carpet of pine and redwood needles carpet the forest floor. We are talking about our projects, programs, books. I say “The title of my next book is Motherworld. I don’t know the subtitle yet. It’s going to be a group project, a collaboration. Of course men could be included who care for the Earth, the animals, the oceans, like good mothers.” As I’m speaking, the light behind the redwood and pine trees changes. It gets really, really brilliant. Glows in a kind of fluid, diffuse way that becomes part of the trees. It slowly shifts into a rainbow spectrum. Not as an arc or even a round hoop. It is almost like liquid, multidimensional, fluid and permeable. It comes both through, between, and around the trees in a vertical, heavenward direction. Bridges heaven and earth, in a broad swath, saturating the trees. As I am facing the women and the trees, I exclaim “Look!” and they turn around. We all laugh in delight. “I guess that’s a Yes!”
So now, Motherworld is at the firefront (typo noted but appreciated) of my dream psyche. I no longer hold any doubts about the power of Mother love and the alchemical power of Feminine to birth a New Earth.
Here is the lumine natura revealed. The spark of the Divine that is in everything. The light with a fiery longing to enkindle. “As the light of Nature cannot speak, it buildeth shapes in sleep from the power of the Word (of God).”
Alchemical text quoted by C. G. Jung, CW 8
This Divine spark is within each of us. I would love to help you shine into a world caught in a collective nightmare. Dream a new story. Draw a new map of the world. Do something you love.
Here’s a message from Jupiter, now in the sign of Taurus, and for 2 months conjunct the North Node of our collective destiny.
`I have a handful of small change. Pennies, nickels, a few dimes. I want to exchange them for quarters so I put them into a change machine. Out come two enormous gold coins, but on one side of each is the map of our beautiful blue green planet Earth.
Something revolutionary is trying to be born. Use Jupiter’s joyful, expanding energy to strengthen your faith and trust in the process, and in yourself. All you have to do is put your 2 cents in. For beauty. For life. For love.
I would love to support you at this pivotal time. These are ways you can work with me now. In individual, private Mothermind Mentoring, there are two spaces available beginning August. Drop in Mothermind Dreaming Circles begin again Friday, August 4. Contact me for further information.
From Credo Mutwa Zulu Shaman:
“Awaken the mothermind within every one of you human beings. Our people believe that every human being, male or female, has got two minds: the mother mind and the warrior mind. The warrior mind looks at things logically. The warrior mind says two plus two is four, but the mother mind says nothing like that.
“The mother mind does not think in a linear way as warriors do. The mother mind thinks sideways, sideways, upwards and downwards. We must awaken the mother mind within us. We must feel what is going on in the world…It is said by our Zulu people that women think with their pelvic area, where children grow and are born. We must think that way.
“I must no longer look at a tree, but I must see a living entity like me in that tree. I must no longer look at the stone but must see a future lying dormant in that stone. We must think like grandmothers.”