When I am feeling like focusing on the spiritual, particular the Divine I’ve always been in tune with Loki in terms of energy: I’m a chaotic kind of person; I tend to change quickly and without warning (part of being in parts manic and depressive); I believe myself to be a thing of fire and of blood and the moon and all things that shift.
Sometimes the sheer endless chaos of the universe (and my life) is overwhelming and I sink into that cacophony. I have a tendency to lose track of the every day important things when I get obsessed with the novel and the exciting – even if that’s in a negative way like focusing on the ways my depression or mania are manifesting. Work, relationships, my own health (mental and physical) get lost in the whirlwind. I sleep all day, missing appointments, avoiding commitments, then stay up way too late reading and writing and thinking at a mile a minute.
Reading about and meditating on Sigyn is a good way of grounding myself: reminding myself that stability isn’t weakness and that sometimes the mundane requires attention so that the creative and cerebral – art and the pursuit of new knowledge and experience – can be explored more efficiently. So thank you Sigyn for manifesting tonight, letting me find your book again and showing yourself and your spirit in the kindness and care of the people who care about me. You hold the bowl and keep the chaos at bay: our Lady of the blessed mundane, the foundational baseline to the harmonies of the turmultuous universe.
It´s a little bit sad that there is just so few sources about Sigyn, as I really like her. Sigyn is the godess of fedility and loyality and – for a long time now – my life has been controlled by those things. Way before I knew more about Sigyn. I am known to be very loyal to my friends and loved ones and as a lokean by heart I am so god damn unbelievable loyal to Loki. And, in those moments I feel loyal for someone, that´s Sigyn. The person that trusted and loved and encouraged her husband even after she saw her own son taken appart.
I am currently writing a dedication book about Loki and his fam and it´s just so sad that there isn´t much about Sigyn known. I´m thinking of pressing some flowers (that may represent loyality) and glueing it in too. And some prayers and thoughts on Sigyn. But besides that? I don´t know how I could honor her even though I want to more and more.
Sigyn is Wife to Loki, The Trickster God. Not much is mentioned of Her in the Eddas. The most famous mention of Her is during Loki’s punishment. He is bound and chained deep in a cave and a snake has been fashioned over His head to drip venom on his face. To ease Her husbands suffering, Sigyn holds a bowl over Loki’s head to catch the venom. Every so often, She has to leave to empty the bowl. When She does, the venom that hits Loki’s face causes Him great agony. She continues holding the bowl over His head until He eventually breaks from His bounds at Ragnarok.
Sigyn is know as a devoted Wife and Mother. This set is crafted with that in mind. Made with soft pink Kunzite and Rose Quartz, as well as Rose Gold Hematite. Two silver cupped hands represent Her holding the bowl that shields Her husbands head.
Will come beautifully packaged in a black jewelry box with wax seal.
She sits on a rock while a cold wind blows her knotted hair and the tattered, filthy remnants of her once lovely gown. Before she was the fairest of all the Ásynjur; now hardly anyone would recognize her for the lines of sorrow and ache that etch her pale face like cracks in stone, like threads of a spider’s web. Before there was feasting and song and gay laughter while her flame-haired husband poked fun at the gods and said the things they most needed but least wanted to hear — now all she knows is the cup of bone she holds in her strong hands, a cup carved from the skull of her son Nari. She hasn’t had time to mourn him properly, he who was mauled by his brother, he whose heart was devoured by wolfish Váli, he whose guts bind the son of Laufey beneath the venom-dripping serpent. All she does is hold that heavy cup in place to relieve the agony of Loki until it fills and spills over, burning his face. Every time he wails it’s like a knife through her heart but it’s unavoidable — the cup must be poured out so that she can hold it over him and collect the deadly dew of of the wyrm of Skaði once more. In his raging pain-fueled madness he curses her, blindly lashing out at what’s nearest. His words strike like fists, wound where none can see but she does not waver in her task, remains ever by his side, his steadfast shield in time of greatest need.
Holding the Bowl 