Dreams of Dumuzi have been pushing me into the new year. The sorts of dreams that are full, buzzing with strange images and scenes that are difficult to remember, in part because they all seem to be the foreword wave ahead of something bigger. The dreams are all over the place, but behind them is a name and heavy presence: Dumuzi.
Dumuzi completes a personal trinity, provides the seal beneath which a spirit of import rests. That trinity motivates much of what goes on here, though at a remove. This is where I talk, sometimes prattle, but the trinity lives away from that. And Dumuzi is more an indicator than a name, a pointer toward the knot of myths that I have been working and accumulating.
Dumuzi is one element in a complex node defined by shepherds, sacrifice, astrology, haruspicy, faerieland, the ram, the netherworld, angels, ecstasy, and the heavens. His myths mingle with the myths of Lucifer, the myths of Adam and especially Abel, Xochipilli, Jurjis, and St. George. The planet Venus looms large with him. He is bound up with what I called the ‘magian’ aspect of the Sumerian diaspora.
To make sense of that node, you have to some sense of the other two nodes. If Dumuzi provides the seal for this final node, Ereskhkigal and Nergal provide the seal for the other two. The ties to faerieland and the netherworld are common to them all, but it is Ereshkigal who sits at the head of those mysteries queen of the mountain, entrained with the myths of Eve and Tamar, Asteroth, Tlazolteotl. The figure who is always seen withdrawing, the twin of heavenly wisdom, the body of the earth, the witch queen. Saturn rests beneath her and through her the gateway is born. In the tripartite diaspora, she is bound up with the goos.
Nergal arrives with the meteor, gathering a node defined by agriculture, orientation, the military, the wilderness, trance, sickness, the bull, death, and the earth. He is caught up in the myths of the galla, the serpent and Cain, Beelzebub, Mictlantahcuhtli. A bit like Ereshkigal, this node does not lend itself as easily to discourse. Mars churns at his back. In the tripartite diaspora, he seems somewhat bound up in what I would call the goetic portion, though here I would take care to differentiate it from the contemporary goetic revival.
The trinity intersects and is born against the horizon of a cross. The points of that cross are defined by the bacabs, or, as I have sometimes had spirit phrase it, the dead Adams (like the Adam in the West), of whom Nergal seems to be the fifth, a figure who defines the depths beneath the cross. It is into the center of that cross that the spark of new life descends, the hope for a future even in hard times, a column that descends from the heavens and opens to the world, a column around which the triangle orbits.
This is all very cosmological and to a certain extent I do believe there is a cosmological reality attached to it. More than that, though, this is a ritual map, a precis of spiritual terrain through which my work has carried me and into which it has flowered. All woven together with the stuff of this place.
There is a way in which the cross can be raised to the vertical axis, a symbol of the crucifixion, the triangle the nails that hold Christ to it, the crown of thorns the realization of the sorrow at a higher level, the salvation of demons, devils, faeries, and/or aliens (it’s a big world, best to cover your bases right?).
The history that is attached to it? Well, it’s weird history. Some of it, like the diasporas, are speculative, though not without a basis in the burgeoning historical archive of magic that is becoming available. Reading Sumerian myth alongside the Judaic isn’t too hard to justify, seeing as they emerge from a common milieu. Underneath that, though, is something else. The way in which the Mesoamerican material turns up again and again for me is illustrative of that.
The only history that can unite the Sumerian and Mesoamerican worlds must do so either in deep time, recent time, or weird time (portraying them as having access to a common ‘objective’ fragment of the eternal/parallel worlds and manifesting through a pattern readily available to the human organism). I tend to think it is a little of all three, but that’s me.
(Well, okay, you could go a more literal extraterrestrial route, but I am deeply, deeply agnostic on that sort of thing. My conception and experience of the world can handle deep patterns recurring in time, powerful sympathies in the present fueling new unities, and consciousness stretched between disparate points in time, but aliens not quite. Maybe that’s weird?)
Even the associations I have attached to the figures seems less important in themselves (as a route to practicing astrology or what have you) than as indicators pointing toward spiritual realities with which I am deepening my relationship through the work with these spirits. The visible points along the horizon that assist in navigating. Which is why I can’t let go of the gnostic moniker, because it demarcates that concern with the eternal over the temporal flashes that the eternal’s passages spark.
Happy new year, folks. May it be new indeed.
P.S.: The use of myths to understand spirits is a bit like using someone else’s tongue to speak and taste, no?