“Each and every one of us will experience times when things fall apart. During these times, we are stripped of part of our identity. It can feel terrifying; it can feel unfair, yet these moments when our self-identity is less solid can provide a powerful initiation into a greater sense of freedom. The dismantling of identity throws us into unknown territory and into change.” (Taken from a Midwives of the Soul group post on Facebook)
Last weekend I met with my women’s Storytelling group. One friend, who is grieving the death of her beloved partner, felt led to tell a condensed version of the story of Inanna. If you are not familiar with the story, Inanna is the goddess in Sumerian myth who was called by her sister, Ereshkigal, Goddess of the Underworld, to attend the funeral of Ereshkigal’s husband, Gugalanna, (the Bull of Heaven). In order to reach her sister in the underworld, Inanna had to pass through seven gates. At the first six gates when asked who she was, Inanna answered, “I am Inanna, Queen of Heaven, of the place where the sun rises!” At each gate she was required to strip away a piece of identity that defined who she was--her crown, scepter, lapis beads, gold ring, breastplate, etc. After each gate, the tunnel she was traveling through became lower and lower until at the seventh, where she gave up the last defining feature of her identity, Inanna had to crawl on her belly to fit through the gate. Finally, there was nothing left of her old persona. There, when asked who she was, Inanna declared, “I am here…nothing more.” Things went from bad to worse before they got better for Inanna and she was able to rise up out of the Underworld transformed. If you are interested in the rest of the story, a Goggle search will bring up dozens of links about the ancient Sumerian poem, The Descent of Inanna.
My friend shared that particular story because the loss of her life-long partner has felt over the past two years like a descent into the darkness where she has been stripped of her former identity as a wife and lover and person in relationship with other couples, and so much more. I could relate to the story because a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer six months ago, has plunged me into a deep dive where I have been stripped of my former identity as a healthy septuagenarian with only a few impediments to ways I was able to engage in life. Back in June of 2025, I wrote a blog post titled Dreaming the Tao in which I grappled with those the challenges of health (pre-diagnosis) and aging. Now, my life has been divided into pre and post diagnosis. It has not been easy trying to figure out who I am at this time, but it has not been as bad as you might imagine.
The words I share at the beginning of this post were taken from the Dreaming the Tao post. I had forgotten about that blog until my son and daughter recently liked it on Substack, which inspired me to reread it. As I read, it felt like serendipity, as if some wise part of myself was aware of what lay ahead and was counseling me from the past about what steps to take at this difficult time when allopathic medicine has no cure for what ails me and integrative medicine (the path I have chosen) offers no promises even though I’m grateful it helps me to feel as well as I do each day. So, I am left with the choice to try to blow life into a dubious outcome or allow Life to present me with options through dreams and synchronicities and practices such as quiet reflection, acceptance and gratitude for the good life I have left to live. I wholeheartedly choose the latter.
I believe all of us experience the Call to enter the Underworld where at least part of our cherished identity will be stripped away at some time or another. How we deal with what has been taken makes all the difference, as exemplified by this powerful quote by Pema Chodron from her book When Things Fall Apart:
“I used to have a sign pinned up on my wall that read: Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us...It was all about letting go of everything.”
Which is not to imply that I have not gone through a Dark Night of the Soul around the idea of imminent death and leaving the life I enjoy here on earth. I cherish times with my family and friends. I am in awe of the beauty of nature like I experienced on a recent short trip with my beautiful niece Liz and her lovely husband David to the gorgeous coast in Mendocino, CA.
I have more interesting books to read, good food to eat, music to listen to, laughter and tears to share, games to play with my children and grandchildren during our family gatherings, and much more. So, no, I don’t romanticize death, but like Pema says, maybe there is something indestructible in me—in us all—that carries us to the other side of perceived annihilation to new life and transformation. I’m curious to find out what that is.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please watch for further posts, as I am writing again…
Ciao,
Jenna
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