Myths are about us. When we dismiss a story by saying, “That couldn’t possibly have happened,” we’re likely missing the meaning of the story. When we recognize that trees in myths are almost always about the spine, wrestling with beasts is almost always about wrestling our own minds into focus, and honey or nectar is almost always about states of spiritual transcendence, stories become much less about what funny things ancient people believed and much more about what is possible for us, here and now in the present.

So too with the characters in myths. What opens up for us if we treat the characters in myths as parts of our own inner world? When we recognize the “Underworld” as our subconscious (and say that the dead reside there), how does that offer deeper awareness for our own daily living? 

Inanna passes through several gates on her journey into the Underworld. At each gate she has to give up something that would otherwise prevent her from continuing her journey. We’ll get to those gates. First, let’s consider the characters in the story. And the pieces of oneself that might be evoked by those characters.

Inanna is going to see her sister Ereshkigal. Ereshkigal isn’t in the Underworld because she’s dead. She’s there because she’s been exiled. Banished. Sent away. We might have multiple Ereshkigals within us. Parts that have been locked up. Memories we’re ashamed of. Moments when we were convinced that we were unworthy or unlovable. Parts of our being that became exiles. Disconnected. 

She’s also angry. Ereshkigal doesn’t want a visit from Inanna, and she responds violently when Inanna finally gets to her. Connection feels threatening to her. Once we become convinced of our unworthiness or unlovability, we can get prickly about it. The parts of us that have a list of demands that we can never live up to might feel angry, too.

The ones who banished Ereshkigal, and who also wind up not being particularly helpful to Inanna, are the Sky Gods. The Sky Gods are the ones with the rules. The shoulds. The very clear sense of propriety. The perfectionists who don’t see their own imperfections and don’t tolerate the imperfections of others. The inner critics. They’re the parts of ourselves that tell us what we aren’t allowed to do and who we aren’t allowed to be. 

If Ereshkigal is the parts of us that have been sent away into exile, the Sky Gods are the parts of us who define our shamefulness. The voices that decided we were unworthy or unlovable. Or that we had to behave a certain way in order to prove our worthiness or lovability. To be really, really clear: The Sky Gods are liars. The Sky Gods aren’t malicious, but they are too protective for our own good. And they lie. My Sky Gods have very specific voices. I imagine yours do, too. People in our lives, especially when we were young, who told us who we were expected to be and let us know when we weren’t living up to those expectations. 

In the story, Inanna is the journeyer. The Self. The one seeking reconciliation and wholeness. The one who’s willing to cast vision and orient herself toward that vision, even though it isn’t easy. Even though it requires defying the Sky Gods. Even though it requires giving up some things that feel safe. 

There are other characters in the story, but the one I want most to acknowledge here is Ninshubur, Inanna’s bestie. Inanna’s witness. The one who notices what’s going on without being in the thick of it. The one who can stand back and have perspective. That part of ourselves that notices, I feel kind of tight in my throat right now, or I feel like a need to escape, but I know there’s nothing really threatening me. That kind of thing. Our inner witness. Our inner observer.   

Don’t think you have one? Try slowing down enough to pause and take in how you’re feeling. What do you need right now? What feelings do you notice your body? If you notice a need, how do you judge that need? (That’s the Sky Gods doing the judging.) Ask yourself what small thing you can do to begin tending that need, and be graceful with yourself. That’s Ninshubur. That’s your inner witness, taking stock of how you’re doing and gently inviting some tending to the things we need.

The congregation has an inner Ninshubur too. You. You’re also the Sky Gods of the congregation. And the Ereshkigal of the congregation. And the Inanna. But you have the capacity to be Ninshubur, the witness, who takes stock of the community and invites awareness and nonjudgmental tending and connection.

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