A necklace is a curious symbol. It could represent connection. It also could symbolize one’s voice being bound up. Restrained. At the third gate, Inanna gives up her double strand of lapis beads. I don’t know what special symbolism might have accompanied that stone in ancient Mesopotamia, but I can interpret a lot from the act of surrendering a necklace.

I’ve been thinking a bit about voice and connection as we draw closer to sabbatical months.
You know I’m going on a short sabbatical, right? I’ll be on sabbatical from the beginning of January until the end of April, 2026. You’ll be in excellent hands while I’m away, and we have a lovely three-panel brochure as a resource I’ll share with you soon. I’m also hopeful that you’ll collectively use the opportunity to engage in some exploration around what it means to be an interdependent UU spiritual community in this particular place and time.
We’ve been considering Inanna’s descent as a mythological framework for what we have to let go of in order to do that kind of deep work. If you missed the first few, you can find the introduction here, and then what Inanna surrendered at the first gate and the second gate.
So, back to surrendering voice or possibly connection, as the necklace may represent. Or letting go of how a voice is bound up or restrained. Symbols are tricky. We often want to let them mean the easiest thing so they don’t require a lot from us. And we use our voices in different ways.
Sometimes, I use my voice to express what I want. Maybe that becomes “demand what I want” at times. Especially when I feel like my needs aren’t being tended. I make fewer demands of people when I’m caring for myself well. Perhaps I sometimes use my voice in a transactional way. If I say the right words in the right way, another person will behave the way I want them to. And conversely, if I don’t say the right words—or if I say them in the wrong way—I won’t get what I want from the other person. We engage in a lot of transactional relating in our society. Our communication can become strategic. Is there a way I can let go of that and invite a more authentic and vulnerable way of using my voice?
There are times when my voice is restrained, though. I don’t say a thing I really want to say. I let another person fill up the space, and I just keep my mouth shut. Sometimes that’s a good thing. In most pastoral care conversations, my goal is to be a good listener and not fill the air with my own voice. Usually, in those moments, I’m not thinking about what I should say or how I want to use my voice, because I know my intention for that moment is about someone else being heard.
That isn’t always the case, though. There are some moments that I keep my mouth shut just because I’m afraid of how someone might respond. I choose to avoid conflict, and so I don’t say a thing. Maybe I’m worried about how I will say a thing, and so I don’t say it at all. And now we’re back to being strategic and transactional. I can be manipulative in how I choose not to use my voice. Is there a way I can let go of that aspect of fear or anxiety or worry about what another person will do and be authentic and vulnerable in how I use my voice?
And maybe this connects to having a prophetic voice. Rather than speaking (or not speaking) manipulatively or transactionally, we have a choice to speak authentically and confidently from our values. We don’t have to be aggressive or strident or demanding about it. We can be calm and still have conviction. We don’t have to convince anyone about what matters to us. Our voices can be free to express a vision for our lives and the world that flows from our values rather than what we hope to get from another person.
This feels like it takes some practice. Maybe we would be happier if we consider what else a necklace might represent instead. Something easier. Something that requires less work. But here I am, inviting myself to let go of all the ways I use my voice transactionally—surrendering the illusion that I can control what other people do by saying just the right things in just the right way. I wonder what new way of using voices can emerge from that letting go.
I’m also mindful that Inanna was going to see an exiled sister. She was seeking a level of connection that required vulnerability. How would that have gone if she showed up talking incessantly? It seems appropriate that surrendering a necklace also somehow suggests a commitment to listen. Who or what are you invited to listen to more deeply?
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