August 1st, 2024
The Star XVII
One of my favorite myths is the myth of Inanna. Inanna is the Sumerian Goddess of love beauty, sex, fertility and love. She represents the deep transformation that women go through as they move through the stages of maiden, mother, queen, crone. The story most often told of Inanna is her descent into the underworld to visit her sister Ereshkigal. As with most sisters, their relationship is complicated and Inanna’s intention of visiting her sister was to basically brag about how great life is and expand her domain from world of the living to the land of dead. During her descent into the underworld, Inanna is hung on 7 meat hooks, representing the release the 7 sheaths of the auric field: physical, vital, mental, wisdom, bliss, spiritual, consciousness. Finally with her identity and ego depleted and vulnerable she finds her sister only to find out her sister is pissed that she has tried to influence her domain rather than respect it. In response, Ereshkigal has her executed.
This does not go well for the world of the living and eventually a trusted servant named Ninshubur sets out to rescue Innana. After bargaining with the Gods, Nishubur works out a deal. In order for Innana to return however she must take stock in the actions of her ego and forgive her sister for overstating her boundaries. Battered and bruised Innana gradually returns to the world of the living with a healthy respect for the land of the dead and its importance in the balance in life.
The crucial point in this story is that Inanna must forgive. She not only gets herself off the hook, but she also lets everyone else off the hook as well. And this is where we really get to understand the star energy. The star energy comes as a balm to the soul. It comes after the rage is gone. It comes with clarity. It comes with the sovereignty that only arises with the decision, “never again.” In the tarot is comes before the moon and the sun.
And before we come out from the depths of our underworld, we undergo a great loss of our identify. Parenthood does this, death does this, divorce does this, serious illness does this. Anytime we come to the darkest moment of our life, when we have no choice but to surrender and wait for the Gods to work out a bargain, we are about to find the star. The star is a pinpoint of light, a whisper of the truth, a gentle nudge toward joy. This is how the star energy shows up in our cards.
Once we find our star we must rest, we must heal. Somewhere between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead we begin to understand who we are when we are left with only ourselves. In time we look after we bask in this mysterious and constant light long enough, we are strong enough to begin to move toward it. We allow our eyes to adjust to the shadows, we grow brave as we trust our feet to see in the dark. We finally we begin to navigate by instinct and humility and a deep decision and desire to live again.
In every one of my healing pathways workshops and teacher trainings I hand out and read this poem called The Journey by Mary Oliver. I ask people after reading it, what is the line that speaks to you most? For me, it is “mend my life.” These three words pierce like a meat hook into my heart. My co-dependent nature took me to my knees and deep into my dark night of the soul. And interestingly enough it was my sister who I wished to save the most. Only through finding a way to let others be, in their darkness, in their illness, in their addiction, in their hellish world, did I begin to get myself off the hook. In time I realized that the only way I could shine in my own world was if if I truly respected each person’s journey and descent into their personal underworld and now, I no longer need to follow them into their hell but rather wait for them to emerge.
This glimmer, this understanding, this courage and healing this kind of wise love, this is the star.
The Journey
By Mary Oliver
“One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voice behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life that you could save.”
Mary Oliver
The Journey
