This past weekend was the Temple of Anu's annual Wep RenPet celebration, and once more I found myself confronted by the divine forces of my celestial mothers, Auset and Nebt-Het. These manifestations of the Divine feminine, these goddesses, have been walking with me and holding my hands for much longer than I've known, and in true motherhood fashion, they, and especially Auset, refuse to let me go.
When I think of the great mother Auset: she of great magical power, beloved of Ausar, the mastress of devotion... I am awed. Auset is seen as the epitome of Kemetic motherhood and often admired as the example of a standard that all women should aspire to. It sometimes feels like an impossible task for one like me to become like her. I who lack the natural inclination towards motherhood, I with my imperfections and weaknesses, I who am more inclined towards displaying the qualities of stone than the soft loving touch of a tender parent.
Yet Wep RenPet always reminds me how much Auset is a part of me. When my spiritual children speak with the voice of wisdom, my face beams radiantly with pride and gratitude. When my students begin to show the evidence of their growth, my heart swells. When I am surrounded by my spiritual family I am my most happiest, even with the lack of sleep that I experience after organizing such an event, even with the chaos swirling around me, even with the moments slipping by faster than I can enjoy them. I am the matriarch of the Temple of Anu and it is here that I have found my greatest comfort, my greatest joy, my greatest fulfillment. I may not ever have my own biological children but there is not a single thing about being a spiritual mother that I would trade for any other experience.
Auset asked me not to forget her this weekend, because if I forget her, I forget myself. If I chase something else, thinking that it holds the key to my happiness, I will lose the thing that makes me who I truly am. I already have my identity; I already have my self. There is not another thing in the universe that will ever define me more. Nor will I ever want it to.
When I look back at my life and take a strong account of my vulnerabilities, in every moment when I feel a strong desire to be nurtured and received, Auset was there, tending to me, sending loved ones to my side, showing her face to me through the eyes of my sisters. Auset was there and is there, and will always be there, and I continue to be grateful that her expansive potential for devotion and unconditional love are qualities that have rubbed off on me. I am her daughter, and I have learned from her example, as I will continue to do, and I will be the mother that she will have me to be.