Inanna and Me: Transformation by Judith Shaw

In this world of opposites, transformation is constant. Every moment the cells of our bodies are dying and being reborn. Matter, which flows from consciousness, dies but is reborn through the process of birth, death and rebirth. Some changes are fast and some are slow; stars live billions of years and butterflies live only a few days.

Ever since our collective experience during the COVID-19 pandemic, we both feel and are told that our world is transforming. Leaders—political and spiritual—talk about the need for transformation. Some want us to transform ourselves back to some imagined golden age, whereas other have eyes on the future, speaking of transformations we can’t yet imagine. 

My own life has been one of continual transformation, an ever recurring experience of letting go of the old. I was told by an astrologer long ago that I came into this life determined to wipe the slate clean and transform myself. Admittedly it has not been an easy path, but my internal transformations have been a rich source for my paintings. Much of my art has been and continues to be about transformation.

Having always been interested in myth, I began to look for this same pattern of transformation, where the cycles of life, death and rebirth are played out in the realm of archetypes. During the early 1990s I became fascinated with Sumerian goddess Inanna, who encompasses all aspects of life, including a death-and-rebirth myth.

At that time I was undergoing a mid-life crisis, so I dove into her story of death and rebirth with a series of paintings, exploring the pain and difficulties that lead to the ultimate freedom of letting go and being transformed.

Inanna’s underworld sojourn is courageous and triumphant. Hearing the cries of her sister, Erishkigal, Queen of the Underworld, Inanna voluntarily descends into the Underworld, the world of death and dissolution. First in this series is a painting of Erishkigal, expressing her pain.

The next painting of the story, “Inanna Descending,” depicts the beginning point of Inanna’s descent, showing her at the first of seven gates to the Underworld. Yet no one could enter the realm of the Underworld dressed in their worldly attire. At each gate the gatekeeper removes part of her clothing.

This reminds us that the accoutrements of worldly success often leave us feeling empty inside. True contentment comes from within, not from our achievements or the shiny things we love and consume.

Finally, naked and bowed low, she enters the throne room of Erishkigal.

Inanna, without her worldly attire, reveals her parts that have been concealed, unacknowledged, and repressed. Ereshkigal can be seen as that other neglected side of Inanna, the side which feels those feelings of worthlessness and abandonment.

Erishgikal, jealous of her golden sister of the world, shows no pity. Erishgikal focuses the eye of death on Inanna. She utters the cry of guilt and Inanna is struck dead. 

Inanna is powerless. She now needs to rely on her servant Ninshubar, who represents her spiritual side. With Ninshubar and her grandfather Enki’s help, a deal is struck, and Inanna is allowed to return to her life in Sumer. My painting, “Inanna’s Return,” shows the first moment that she emerges from the Underworld.

Yet no one returns unscathed from the Underworld. The point of transformation isn’t to return to the original state, but to find a new way of being. Inanna, accompanied by the Galla, must choose someone to take her place—and that person must be loved by Inanna. To transform and move to the next level of our development, something we’re attached to but no longer benefits us must die to make way for the new.

Like Inanna, I too emerged from my  mid-life crisis of the 1990s to meet the light of day with renewed vigor and vitality. 

Decades have passed since my exploration of Inanna’s Descent and Return. New and ongoing difficulties emerged, making the last three years extremely challenging. In response, I solidified my meditation practice, with positive results.

My painting, “Release and Transform,” came to me as a vision while meditating. The practice focused on releasing blocks that attract negativity and turning them into magnets for positivity.

Usually, I don’t go beyond the beta-wave “monkey brain” state. This time, I slipped into a deep alpha state and saw a vague image of a woman with darkness leaving her body, and brightness all around. Afterward, I made a quick sketch of the vision. Here’s the first sketch.

 A day or two later while meditating, the same vision appeared, only this time much clearer. With that experience I decided that this vision needed to be a painting, as it felt like an important metaphor for self-growth. 

The second vision confirmed what my logical brain had already known: negative self-talk doesn’t begin in the heart but in the mind. It’s the light of love that originates in the heart, not negativity. I went back to the drawing table to reimagine the piece. Here’s an image of that second drawing.

Through creating this painting, along with more meditation, soul-searching, and emotional ups and downs, I’ve come to understand the two-fold message in the meditation:
* let go of trying to fit into others’ versions of who I should be
* and let go of my internal dialogue about lack.

Trying to fit into others’ versions of who I should be is a new development in my internal life, but the internal dialogue of lack has been with me for most of my adult life. From my father, to art school, to the world at large, I was told again and again that an artist path leads to poverty.

Being hard-headed, I didn’t listen. I continued on my path without regard for the security of steady paychecks and IRA contributions so lauded by our culture. Yet now at the time in life when all around me are retiring with these securities, I had become very fearful about my lack. I found myself in a part-time job I hated, being paid less than I ever had before. I believed that there were no other choices. 

Yet my experience with that meditation helped me let the fear go, make positive changes such as financial rearrangements and the decision to leave the hated job, and move back into a state of trust. As surely as day follows night, abundance and confidence are flowing back to me.

In this world of dualities, we are only aware of light because of darkness, of pleasure because of pain. Even if we were to arrive at a balanced world with equality and justice, there will always be suffering. Yet through suffering, we are led to the transformation that comes from letting go—helping us grow in awareness, self-acceptance, and love.

Have you had an experience with the “dark night of the soul”? What jewels of light have been the result?

As always you can find my artworks—prints & originals—on my website, Judith Shaw Art – created by a human woman’s hands.