This morning, while reading Queen of the Great Below: An Anthology in Honor of Erishkigal published by Bibliotheca Alexandrina, I was moved deeply--as I often am when encountering the Goddess. I began reading two anthologies in the last few weeks--this one on Erishkigal, and another centered around Inanna's journey to confront her death and the dark face of her sister, Erishkigal, in the underworld. I've been obsessed with this myth since I first encountered it in Sylvia Brinton Perera's Jungian account (Descent to the Goddess: A Way of Initiation for Women) of the female journey to the underworld to encounter the divine feminine that has been buried alive in our culture.
This was in the summer of 2007. I had just graduated from college and felt a deep ache--a craving--to encounter the feminine. I'd had four years of wrestling with the tenets of Western philosophy (at St. John's College in Santa Fe, NM) and the male psyche--but where was the feminine? Guided by my feminist boyfriend at the time, I started with Cunt: A Declaration of Independence by Inga Muscio, and a foreward by Betty Dodson, who is, of course, one of my heroines and an empowered sexual warrior goddess. I felt a deep pull to embark on the descent to Erishkigal myself, but was, of course, scared of out my mind. I toyed with the idea of creating a ritual on the many acres of Napa vineyard where I was staying--setting up symbolic "gates" where I would remove an article of clothing and a treasured part of myself, to enter the depths naked and vulnerable. It was, and remains, a great idea, but I still have not gathered the courage to enact this powerful, and not-to-be-taken lightly ritual. I am praying to the Goddess even now to guide me to the time, place, and guides for this soul ceremony.
Erishkigal
That summer I filled several journals with the outpourings of my heart. All the hate and rage and victimization that I had experienced as a woman on this earth poured out like hot blood. It was a blessed relief. After that miraculous summer--my first concrete encounter with the Divine Feminine--I went to work in the fall, and began my work in that place we call life. Over the last six years, I have experienced many things--and been marked by some deep wounds. Or perhaps, deep wounds that I have carried for a long time were finally uncovered. Either way, I lost track of the calling of the Goddess, though I was always trying to find her, and I believe she was ever-present in the workings of my life and soul. For as I have realized today, with great joy, that the empty space--the hole in my heart--is not a curse, but a gift! It is the throne room of the Goddess! Without my yearning, my emptiness, and the deep holes of pain and suffering--there would be no room for the Goddess in my life. SHE carves me out so that she might enter my body and work her will on this earth through me.
I know this sounds strange and woo-woo, and I understand. It is quite a surprise to me as well. I've always known I was spiritual, and even when I walked (okay, ran!) away from the Christian church I felt a spiritual calling. I've felt called to serve the Divine Feminine for some time. I just didn't know what form of the Goddess I would serve.
I was meditating on this very thing last night. I even (absurdly) went to some stupid website that purported to (by means of a simply quiz), tell you what your personal pantheon looked like. I completed about two questions before I realized that I did not need a website quiz to tell me the truth that I already possessed inside myself. So instead, I've been praying and meditating on the subject. I felt that the truth was already present in my life and in the stories and myths that have spoken deeply to my soul over the years. Even as a child, I have identified with the darkness, with sorrow and fear, and the places that most people run away from. As a student--an anthropologist, a feminist, a lover, and a friend--I am drawn to those strange places where things surprise us--where things aren't what we expect them to be. Those are the places where we surprise ourselves. I dwell in the liminal spaces. This is where--outside the limits boundaries and definitions--we define ourselves and discover who we really are. Even in fear and suffering and brokenness--if we can stay in our suffering--we find that we are much greater and much stronger than we ever knew. And that is where we encounter the divine within ourselves. So...while in many ways (as this blog indicates), I am working to manifest the being of the Goddess Inanna--bright, powerful, sexual, and life-giving--she is not the Goddess I serve. It is Erishkigal that has marked my soul.
Inanna and Erishkigal. "Sister Light, Sister Dark" Two halves of the same soul.
Just as Inanna was called to be transformed by the face of her dark twin, Erishkigal, so am I. I think it is no coincidence that I too, am a twin, and growing up, my sister and I were jokingly (though I did not find it funny), called "Sister Light (her), and Sister Dark (me)." She has fair skin, light hair, and blue eyes, and was often jovial and playful, and I...well...I was dark. Different. Weird. Contemplative. Melancholy. Much of my adult journey has been about learning to play, and laugh, and love in these spaces traditionally considered dark. I tend to focus on the difficult and see the negative--so it has been a spiritual practice for me to embrace joy, beauty, and happiness. Which is why I manifest in the world as Inanna--as joy incarnate, sexual pleasure, and feminine beauty. But my inner calling is to the dark Goddess of the underworld--the Divine Bitch, and Mistress of All Unwanted and Unloved Things. Her work is my work in the World. I feel called to advocacy--to write, speak, and act to give voice to the voiceless--for sex workers, to trans folk, to anyone and everyone who is buried under the burden of shame, hate, and victimization. And it is Erishkigal who lives in these spaces. Blessed be the Goddess.
Inanna
In the last few weeks, as I have meditated on my call, and prayed and written about moving forward in my work as a sexual warrior, writer, and student--a goddess and priestess in my own right (informally at this point), I have been overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. Good fear, though--not the kind you get when your intuition picks up on an energy vampire, or a person who would mean you harm--but the divine and holy fear of walking on a path more powerful than you can imagine. The fear that comes from doing things that terrify you that must be done anyway--like daring to speak your truth, or correct someone when they use racist or sexist language, or the fear that comes from saying no--please don't touch me--over and over again. This is good fear.
Today, when the Goddess entered me, sitting in my car shaking and sweating from the power of Her presence--I felt fear again. I was dizzy with fear of the darkness, fear of losing control, fear of being hurt and hurting others unintentionally on my path. Fear of knowing that I am called to the Divine Feminine but not knowing what that looks like yet. But as I went into the gym for my workout she stayed with me, speaking to me, urging me onward past the points of pain and struggle. She pushes me--but not for her own pleasure--but for my betterment. As I drove home, I began to laugh and cry tears of joy. I realized that all these years, through all the pain of feeling lost and hurt and raped--she was there. It was her hand all the time, molding me and carving me into her own vessel. And today she entered me. Blessed be the Goddess.
As I felt her upon me this morning, here is what I wrote:
As I unfold myself--
Bringing what is inward
Outward--
I shudder,
Groan and heave.
I have no protection.
I am but flesh
Encased in timid flesh,
Easily carved
and bled for the Goddess
Like some slut of a sacrifice
Upon her gory altar.
I step out
on the path of my Destiny
Aware
That it is not of my making,
But Hers.
Fear and Desire claim me.
My inmost being quivers.
I am nothing but
Broken flesh
to be molded in Her image.
The call is deep and unshakeable.
I know I will be crushed in Her wake
Scattered, and Made anew.
What was once a steady,
tormenting trickle of the Divine
Is now a torrential River
Flowing from Above.
I drown.
She cannot be stopped or silenced.
Oh how desperately I crave control.
I craft excuses.
I delay her working.
Goddess Help Me.
Use me as an instrument in this realm.
Embolden me to dance
in Darkness as well as Light.
Help me to distinguish your voice
and your will from those selfish voices of
Pride
Lust
Shame
Hate
Bitterness
Fear
Anger
and
Insecurity
That populate my inner chambers.
Instead, take them from me
Gate by gate
And fill me with your breath instead.
Blessed be your name.
Inanna
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