This article was originally published in NCGR’s quarterly journal, Memberletter, midwinter 2021

I am beginning to understand the grief of Ceres. I’ve recently been initiated into the lifepath of motherhood, and yes, every small increment of growth I witness is so unbelievably rewarding and so beautiful. Watching my daughter grow and learn suspends me in such a state of awe. I wonder how humans reared children in harsher conditions of the past. I am softened by her chubby cheeks and her chunky thighs – mesmerized by her laughter and tickled by the dimples in her tiny hands. How can her tiny feet possibly be so fat? And yet, a piece of me resolves to mourning each and every time I retire the clothes she has grown out of. It doesn’t get any easier. My husband is always the one to point out when her clothes have grown too small.  And at 8 months old, my daughter has already reached so many heart-swelling milestones - and yet, I grieve the changes so intensely. I am relieved that she is sleep trained, but I miss the days when she could only fall asleep in my arms. I love watching her crawl and I cheer her on as she gets closer to walking, and yet, I mourn the days of wrapping her close to my body. And one day, when she’s too cool for school, she will want nothing to do with me. One day, she will fall in love; and one day she will move away from home. I once read that that entire journey from birth onward is a slow and gradual separation from the mother. From source. This anecdote has just stuck with me, and I keep relating it back to the mythos of Persephone and Demeter.

Our little dwarf planet between Mars and Jupiter is Ceres, queen of the asteroid belt. Her Greek counterpart is Demeter, goddess of the grain, the earth and of the Eleusinian Mysteries. In the myth of Persephone and Demeter, our mother-daughter duo is inseparable – until one day, Persephone wanders off into the field, the earth ominously parts, opening a large crevice to the underworld. Pluto emerges in his ghastly chariot to scoop up Persephone and whisk her away to the underworld to become his bride. One version of the story tells of rape, abduction, the robbery of innocence and the violation of safety. In another version, Persephone is the teenage girl we can all relate to – the one who distances herself from mom and dad so that she can go off and explore her sexuality. Either way, we still have a grieving mother at the heart of this story. Distraught, desperate and bereaved, Ceres scans the earth looking for her precious one. Eventually she encounters Hekate, guardian of the crossroads who suggests she ask Apollo. The Sun God sees all and admits to Demeter that her brother Zeus took matchmaking liberties in offering Persephone to their brother Hades. Demeter now enters the 3rd stage of grieving: anger. She resolves to cease the crops from proliferating upon the earth. The humans will starve if Persephone cannot return home. Zeus realizes that Demeter has won. Without humans to worship the Gods of Olympus, who are they? However, since Persephone has consumed pomegranate seeds in the underworld, they must strike a bargain (the 4th stage of grief). Persephone will spend half of the year in the underworld and the other half of the year with her mother.

This myth has many layers. One of the most obvious is its explanation of the seasonal tides on earth. It also describes the life cycle and the flux of seasons in our lives; we have seasons of joy and abundance, as well as those of difficulty, even loss. This myth also officially categorizes Ceres as governess of the crops. Ceres is the etymological root word of cereal, as well as cerveza! When Ceres is prominent in a chart, we might see custody themes, affiliation with baking or the beer brewing industry – or like Lebron James who was born on a Ceres station, someone who provides a great deal of charity to others. Demeter’s name comes from Da Mater which means primal earth mother – often indicative of someone who links their life purpose with caring for others.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Ceres this year. But I need to tell you where it all began. Saturn and Pluto conjoined on January 12, 2020. But it wasn’t just the lords of death and darkness hanging out circa 22°Capricorn. We see the Sun, Ceres, Saturn, Pluto and Mercury condensed in the doomsday bunker between 21°54’ and 23°11’ Capricorn. That is one tight stellium if you ask me. In other words, the energies of Ceres, Mercury and the Sun get wrapped into the seeding of the Saturn/Pluto cycle. At that moment in time, I was so curious about how this symbolism would manifest. We all know by now that the triple conjunction of Saturn, Pluto and Jupiter in Capricorn was the dismal defining aspect of 2020. In hindsight, it is easy to see how Sun, Mercury and Ceres have fit into this equation.

As for the Sun, 2020 diminished our overall vitality, health and our ability to be seen. Children and schools fall under the rulership of Mercury. Socialization is such an integral part of our formative years constraints on playtime has created all sorts of problems for families. Schools have been a major casualty of this pandemic. As well as common sense.

What about Ceres? In April, a wave of baking dominated the social media feed. Yeast was near impossible to find as folks eagerly learned how to establish a sour dough starter. To this day, I still see people proudly capturing the success of their sourdough bread. Interestingly, the crevice in the bread largely defines its success. I’m reminded of the earth’s parting during the abduction of Persephone. Another major casualty of the pandemic? Restaurants and food suppliers. Early in the quarantine period, appalling quantities of food went to waste due to the closures of schools, hotels, restaurants and the cancellation of events. Dairy farmers dumped millions of gallons of milk into the earth, while a large farm in Idaho buried a million pounds of onions and hundreds of thousands of eggs were smashed. Tractors shredded crops turning them back into soil. Meanwhile, many people lost their sources of income and experienced greater meal scarcity at home. Though the cultivation of food wasn’t an issue, we experienced mass shortages of toilet paper, rubbing alcohol, hepa filters, kettlebells and web cams. It’s important to note that the destruction of food sources is an integral piece of Ceres’ myth, but check this out: Ceres is also a corn goddess; hand sanitizer is primarily produced from ethanol, which is created from corn. A cross-stitch of Mercury and Ceres in the fire of Saturn/Pluto would be the bar and restaurant industry. Mercury represents our service industry force, while Ceres takes the beer, grain alcohol and the places where we break bread together.

Sure, the triple Capricorn conjunction is sufficient to describe the pervasive fear, grief and scarcity of 2020. However, we can clearly see that the inclusion of Mercury and Ceres to the Saturn/Pluto conjunction adds essential details to the delineation. This has been a year heavy with grief. We have missed out on weddings, funerals, travel, even simple carefree trips to the coffee shop. We are lonelier and more isolated than ever, with still no known end in sight. With incredible loss of human life, we deeply mourn what could have been. The weight of the pandemic compounds every loss, every stress and creates all sorts of unprecedented obstacles. This year was also a year which drew considerable attention to another pandemic: racism and police brutality. In the wake of each murder by the hands of the law, we empathized with the pleas of grieving mothers for justice. Yes. The forlorn mother archetype of Ceres who wants nothing more than to keep her children safe was a defining key in 20202.

After meditating on Ceres, I grew curious to research whether Ceres would show up prominently during periods of famine. Since a lunar eclipse preceded the Saturn/Pluto/Ceres conjunction by 2 days, my criteria for this search was Ceres showing up in hard aspect with the eclipses during onset years of major famines. Here is what I discovered:

The Great Famine of Ireland (1845-1949): one quarter of Ireland’s population either perished or emigrated. Total lunar eclipse, 5/21/1845, 0°23’ Sagittarius square Ceres at 1°13’ Pisces; 11/13/45, partial lunar eclipse at 21°33’ Taurus, square Ceres at 24°09’ Aquarius.

The Great Chinese Famine (1958): 43 million perished due to oppressive farming laws, a flood and drought. Both lunar and solar eclipses in April of 1958 square Ceres. Though the 5° orb is a little wide for my liking, it’s significant that she squares both of them.

Chalisa Famine (1783-1784): 11 million dead due to an unusually dry year. Partial Solar eclipse, 4/1/1783, 12°00 Aries in partile square to Ceres at 12°37’ Cancer; the partial solar eclipse of 8/27 widely conjoins Ceres within 6°, however the total lunar eclipse of 9/10/83 features the south node, Sun and Ceres within 17°23’-18°40’ Virgo. Interestingly, Jupiter and Saturn are both in Capricorn during this year.

Soviet Famine (1932-1933): 10 million dead due to oppressive control over farmers. Solar Annular Eclipse, 2/24/1933, 5°28’ Pisces conjunct Ceres at 2°52’ Pisces.

North Korean Famine (1994-1998): 2.5 million dead due to military rule. Total Solar eclipse, 11/3/94, 10°54’ Scorpio with the north node at 14°47’ Scorpio, square Ceres (and Mars) at 13°47’ Leo.

In my search, I also discovered the involvement of Ceres with a few eclipses at the tail end of the famines, which might suggest her more generous expressions of replenishing the land. I found this to be true of the Vietnamese famine of 1945 with a total lunar eclipse on 12/18/1945 at 26°49’ Gemini opposite Ceres at 24°20’ Sagittarius, and at the end of the Bengali famine of 1770 with another lunar eclipse in Gemini (10°50’) opposite Ceres at 12°53’ Sagittarius. Speaking of upsides: I’d like to think that this was a year that folks improved their home cooking skills. For more recipe inspiration, I know a certain astrological themed cookbook you might like to try!

Bibliography:

https://listverse.com/2013/04/10/10-terrible-famines-in-history/

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/11/business/coronavirus-destroying-food.html

Demetra George, “Asteroid Goddesses,” 1986, Ibis Press

Catherine Urban (NCGR-PAA IV, ISAR-CAP) is the author of Your Astrological Cookbook: The Perfect Recipe for Every Sign. She teaches courses in astrology and consults with clients via Zoom. Catherine is now offering horary consultations and attempting to survive the Cleveland winter by drinking mochas.  Connect with Catherine on instagram and Twitter @astrocatherine or visit www.CatherineUrban.com