Imbued in the design and in its overall symbolism, cosmology connects with weaving by defining femininity and directing ritual. One of the most important associations that weaving has to the supernatural is its association with the deities, primarily the moon goddess Ixchel. Believed to have invented weaving, she was the patron of conception, childbirth, medicine, and reproduction. In the Dresden Codex, she carried the name Uh-Ixik, "Moon Lady" and Sak-Ixik "White or Weaver Lady" (Schele 1997: 22). Ixchel is often depicted in Classic Maya figurines. Linda Schele suggested that there are two common depictions of the moon goddess--the young, demure weaver, and the "sexy, comely courtesan" (Schele and Miller 1986:143). She suggests that the common Jaina figurine of a weaver sitting in front of the loom is an example of the demure Ixchel. Depictions of the goddess as a comely courtesan show her bare-breasted with unspun cotton twisted into the hair. The cotton in her hair suggests that this manifestation of the moon goddess spins but never weaves. Unlike her more reserved weaving counterpart, this pretty woman is never seen working. One image of Ixchel, depicts her as a young woman standing next to a 'leering old man' who lifts her skirt and feels her thigh.

In other areas of Mesoamerica, you can find parallels in deities associated with the moon and weaving. In the late Classic Central Plateau of Mexico, Tlazolteotl-Ixcuina was mother earth or the goddess of childbirth, weaving, illicit love, and excess. Like Ixchel, she is often depicted with a headband of unspun cotton into which spindles are thrust. The crescent shapes on her garments have been used to suggest that this goddess was adopted by the Central Mexican culture from the Gulf Coast Huastec (Maya) culture's moon goddess (Sullivan 1982).

Spinning and weaving have specific associations with reproduction, childbirth, and creation, which are important in defining femininity. Spinning goes through stages of growth and decline, much like that of a pregnant woman. The spindle set in the spindle whorl is equated to sexual intercourse. The thread winds around the spindle and grows in size, just as a fetus grows in a woman's stomach. Weaving on the other hand is symbolic of the actual birthing process. The threads intertwining is suggestive of intercourse but the process of weaving itself and the final product are considered to be creation. For the Tz'utujil speakers of Santiago Atitlan, backstrap-woven cloth is "born" while treadle loomed cloth is "made" (Pretzel and Carlen 1988). Thus, spinning is a futile occupation without the regenerative nature of weaving. In many modern Indian cultures, a woman who spins and never weaves is equated with infertility. The Zoques of Tuxtla Gutierrez and the Tzotzils of San Bartolome de los Llanos believe that witches spin and never weave (Sullivan 1982; McCafferty and McCafferty 1991).

The sexual symbolism of spinning and weaving is clearly manifested in the bullfight festivity celebrated at Christmas by the Tzotzil Indians of Zinacantan in the Chiapas highlands. In this ritual in which men dress up in costume and perform, "grandmothers" give the girls and women of the village a "spinning lesson." Using double entendres, the actors teach and remind women how important it is to please their husbands in their roles as spinners and weavers as well as sexual partners.

Through the action of the weaving process, the weaver gives birth to an entity of cloth (Morris 1984). In contemporary Santiago Atitlan, Solola and other indigenous communities, the sticks from the actual loom are used by midwives to position a baby within the mother's womb, allowing it to exit the womb headfirst (Schevill 1993). Fundamental to weaving with a backstrap loom is a post or a tree on which to secure the loom. In the Tz'utujil language, this is called the mother tree, an aspect of the World Tree which is very important to Maya cosmology. The Mother tree supports the loom by way of a rope called yujkut, which the Maya recognize as synonymous with the umbilical cord. The loom itself in its initial stages prior to the commencement of weaving is lifeless. The shed, symbolic of the heart, is fed everytime the shuttle is passed through. The opening and closing of the shed is rhythmical much like the beating of a heart.

This symbolized production of a new life connects the ability to weave with the character of womanhood. As in modern times, pre-Columbian, mothers taught their daughters to cook, keep house, to spin, and to weave. In Book 6 of the Florentine Codex, in a ruler's counsel to his daughter, he tells her :

Pay heed to, apply yourself to, the work of women, to the spindle, the batten... Watch carefully...how they apply the dyes [to the thread], how the hedges are set, how the hedge leashes are fixed......you are a noble woman, thus see to the spindle and batten (Sahagun 1590).

Other descriptions in the Florentine Codex differentiate between good versus bad women, whether it be a noblewoman, a maiden, or a middle-aged woman. Sahagun defines a good middle-aged woman as a skilled weaver, a weaver of designs, while a bad middle-aged woman is stupid, worthless, a lazy worker, and a poor weaver (Sahagun 1950). Today, weaving still defines femininity. Until recently, in Guatemala, it was said that a girl was hardly marriageable without weaving skill. In the Department of Huehuetenango, girls who could not weave were assumed by parents of interested boys to be stupid or badly trained (Altman and West 1992).

Although the cosmology of weaving was established in pre-Columbian times, its importance and vitality can still be seen in modern weavings. In towns like Chichicastenango, a woman's weaving skill was comparable to a man's public service, thus an inescapable religious and civic duty. In other regions of highland Guatemala, as a woman approaches old age, she prepares an ajuar or burial costume. When she dies, she is placed in the coffin clothed in the ajuar, with all available space in the coffin filled with her belongings, particularly clothing. In Coban, so important is the burial of the deceased's clothing that extra garments that cannot fit into the coffin are buried separately (Altman and West 1992).

The symbolism woven into these fabrics tells a story of Maya history. It speaks to the informed observer, communicating the importance of the tradition and beliefs of these people.