The Weaver

Since the Spring Equinox of 2021, I’ve been dreaming with the Weaver. She paid me a visit in my dreams on that night, and I’ve been tracking her wisdom in myth, stories and dreams.

The Weaver – 3-21-21

I woke this morning from a mysterious dream of an older woman who was tall and slender and learned as a weaver. She was there to teach me her skill at weaving, and told me it was time for me to learn what she had to teach me, I can no longer put it off. I knew it was true, but I did not feel a desire to learn from her, whose energy seemed harsh to me, and I felt weaving is not a skill I am prone to naturally. I could see by learning this skill, it would set my path to a crossroads where I would have to make a choice about the direction of my life, but without this skill, I would not make it to this crossroads. The deeper teachings being transmitted through the practice of weaving include connection, discernment and inclusion. The ability to see the threads of fate and destiny and make choices. I knew internally I need the teachings of the weaver, but I do not want these lessons to be harsh. The weaver teacher has a need to share her wisdom, and if the student does not choose to weave, then she cannot share her life’s work and her gifts go to waste. She carries both a sadness and resentment about this, that weighs on her slight frame. She is a Crone and guide, able to teach me about the strands of my life, that can be woven into a beautiful path and sacred container.

Waking – Aware of the struggles of being at the beginning of something, and learning something new that will affect my life journey, leading me to a crossroads.

Action – Invite the weaver into my dreams open to learning and practicing her gifts.

Spider Woman of Teotihuacan, Mexico

There are many stories and myths about the Weaver, she is the ancient wise woman who weaves the world. The Mayan Goddess Ix Chel brought weaving to women, was a midwife and psychopomp who oversaw all phases of life and death, fate and destiny as measured by the moon and the stars. The Spider Woman of Teotihuacan, Mexico predates the Aztec culture, and is also called the Great Mother Goddess. Similar stories of Grandmother Spider as Weaver can be found in by indigenous people of the Anasazi (Pueblo), Hopi, and Dine’ (Navajo) Southwestern Native Indian stories. Canyon de Chille, AZ in the four corners area holds a site sacred to Na’ashje’ii Asdzaa (Grandmother Spider). Spider Woman Rock is a red rock spire rising over 800 feet from the canyon floor like a giant needle. Spider Woman was said to have woven a web from this place that covers the vast area of the Navaho lands.

Spider Woman Rock in Canyon de Chille, AZ

Baba Yaga of Slavic origin, Athena and Arachne of the Greek Myths and Ariadne of the Labyrinth in Crete are all weavers. There is the well known western fairytale of Sleeping Beauty, who pricks her finger on a needle from a spinning wheel to fulfill her fate. There are the 3 Fates also called the Norns in Scandinavia, and the Moirai in Greek myth known as Clothos (spinner), Lachesis (allotter) and Atropos (unturnable). The Primordial Greek Serpent Goddess Ananke is said to have created herself, before weaving the world. The Egyptian Goddess Nuit is another Cosmic Weaver and one of the oldest weavers of the Universe. So many stories of weaver, so many webs to unfurl.

Web Walker 4-15-21

I am conscious in this dream, suddenly transported to a dark desert canyon, where a woman stands dressed in a sheer white cotton blouse and skirt. She has black hair with a few white streaks. She has a round sweet Native face. The narrow canyon she enters is in striated grey tones. She walks in her bare feet on a sandy path deeper into the narrows of the shadowy canyon. She steps into a circle of moonlight shining on the path. She makes eye contact with me, and looks down at her feet, showing me the layers, upon layers, of webs loosely wrapped around her ankles. The webs carry stories, and she walks with ease and keeps a slow and careful steady pace. They do not constrict her movement, but her stride is small, and she must walk with intention in every step she makes, to be sure and safely carry the many folds of webbing draped around her ankles. Deeper she goes into this ancient sacred place. She carries the dreams and stories of her people to awaken them in the deep womb of the Great Mother.

“Web Walker Canyon” by Valley Reed
in watercolors all rights reserved.
Valley Reed © 2021

Die before you Die

The recent of losses of David Bowie, Alan Rickman and Glen Fry, have me contemplating death more than usual. I am grieving in some ways the loss of my youth. The music left behind during the 70’s and 80’s by David Bowie and the Eagles, was such an integral part of that time in my life. The actor Alan Rickman, who played Professor Snape in the Harry Potter films, has me thinking about my children when they were younger. They grew up watching Harry Potter movies, as well as “The Labyrinth” with Bowie, and they have now grown into young adults. These events have heightened for me a deeper vibe of change, that is causing me to look more deeply at the reality of death.

My own father died in 2008, and he has been paying me visits more often in my dreams now. In a recent visit, he showed me a photo of a Native American Indian Ancestor. He told me, “this is your ancestor”. In the photo, I see a strong man in the prime of his life, wearing buckskins and a few eagle feathers tied loosely in his long dark hair. He carries a pipe in his hands.

In the dream, I wish to speak with him and so I decide to enter into the photo consciously as a portal, enabling the photo to come to life and I now stand beside him in the dream space. I see the pipe he carries is turned toward his body, so that I cannot see what the pipe bowl looks like. I ask him, “Can you turn the pipe? I want to see what medicine you carry.” He responds by turning the pipe bowl, so that I can now see it clearly. It is a human skull. He tells me, “This is your medicine.”

My father once again visited me in my dream, just the other night and told me, “You need to meet your death” and then he handed me a pair of black handled scissors.

So what does it mean to meet your death? Does it mean I will be meeting mine soon?  Perhaps, or maybe instead he is pointing at the medicine of my ancestor, that of death as a bringer of change and awakening, transformation and rebirth. The scissors he offered are also of note. It connects with the three fates, one of which cuts the life line with scissors when it is time to meet death.

Alkonost
“Prophetic Bird” by Andre Shishkin

Prophetic Bird Goddesss

In a recent gathering, I facilitated a conscious shamanic journey for a group of women who dream with the New Moon each month. Our intention for the journey was to connect with the Three Fates for a glimpse of the year ahead. During my drumming for the group, I saw a dark sky across which flew a large, dark winged bird with the head of a woman. She made a very loud cry as she flew across a dark mountain range and cried out three times. I felt she was meant to be the harbinger of death. She lands on a shore of this dark mountain range and I see myself standing before her. She is feeding me meat from her beak, like a momma bird to her chick.

 

I was previously unaware of the Slavic prophetic bird goddesses, until I dreamt with her in my journey, it appears the one I connected with was Alkonost, the messenger of sorrow. The image above of the painting, “Prophetic Bird” by Russian Artist, Andre Shishkin, looks much like the what I saw in my journey. I also did seem to understand that the dark mountain range was somewhere in Eastern Europe.

These dreams all had me thinking it was indeed time to meet my death, in the shamanic sense of die before you die. I reflected on the writings of Stephen Levine, who wrote about contemplating death in his book, “A Year to Live.” If you had but a year to live, what would you do?  I found out the other day that he too, has crossed over. Die before you die means the time is now, to live your life fully, without fear or hesitation.

 

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)

 

Valley Reed ©2016

 

 

%d bloggers like this: