Ninhursag - Tumblr Posts
Mesopotamian gods designs for an animation I’ve been working on lately (for my university, huh).
Goofy stuff.
This post is mostly an excuse to figure out how to tag, partially an excuse to put more content on my blog, and definitely an excuse to talk about my gods. So. My gods! My main go-tos are: Nisaba, the light of my life and lady of my home, Goddess of Scribes, Barley, and the Written Word. (I'm giving you the cliffnotes version rather than the polytheist rant, so. That's a good summary.) Nuska, god of the lamp at night. His job is to burn evil magic, generally. Protector god who fights off demons, his symbol is seen on the Pazuzu plaque in position to defend a bedside from the horrible demon Lamashtu, who is never welcome near me or my family. I go to him a lot concerning anxiety and nightmares. In addition to them, I go to: Ereshkigal, Utu, Enki, Inanna, Ninhursag, Gula, and Nanshe with relative frequency. I pay respects to Tiamat, but she's technically not Sumerian, very dead, and the story is complicated. Ereshkigal- queen of the House of Dust Utu- god of the sun, laws, travel, divination, protects against gidim, sometimes judges the dead Enki- god of fresh water, purification, magic, creativity, wisdom, fertility, creator of mankind who organized the world Inanna- goddess of passion, sex, war, lady who changes man into woman and woman into man Ninhursag- wife of Enki, mother goddess, lady of the cultivated earth Gula- goddess of medicine in all forms, dogs Nanshe- goddess of social justice, fishermen, dream divination On occasion I say a word or two for Nanna, the god of the moon, and Uttu, the goddess of weaving and the first married woman. I pay respect to a lot of gods as they are relevant, to be honest, but I never let a day go by without saying something to Nisaba.
Polytheist Ramblings: Ninhursag
Most of my life has been spent in Kansas. Not eastern Kansas, where you get the illusion of that magical thing people call "hills". Where the river gnaws at the border and the lawns are lush with greenery. I'm talking about sundried spittoon Kansas, metal whirligigs and fields that surge like a golden sea beneath the wild, hair-tossing wind. The wind in the city, in the mountains? A declawed little puff compared to the fluid onrushing of a wall of pure force as vast as the sky itself. The sky is searing, the windbreaks bent like regal courtiers beneath it, rare cloud shadows scudding across the landscape. It's beautiful. Most people don't really see that. Don't even get me started on the flash floods.
So yes, I was raised in the pancake state. I vaguely recall something Nightvale related.... something about not believing in mountains? Eh. Point being, the long drive to New Mexico, or Colorado, was always exciting. Cars, to me, were always a bit like teleporters. You get in, wait a bit, and then suddenly you're waking up at the destination. My dad's philosophy tapes might have been partially to blame, until I started actually listening. But one thing that always wound me up and had my face pressed to the glass was that first glimpse of a purple smudge on the horizon. I definitely believed in mountains. Just like I believed in unicorns. There's something absolutely magical about watching the earth lazily rear up to wrap itself in clouds as easily as my mother could tie her fancy, billowing scarves. There were huge scars in the land where people had dug into the rock to build roads, crumbling bits of ruddy sandstone and white gypsum like gleaming bones. It was like seeing that biblical flood frozen in time all around me, terrifying, but I was too distracted by the newness and the beauty to be scared. I'm the sort to ogle mesas, okay? Mountains are serious business worth waxing poetic over.
Now I live in the Ozarks. Not exactly by choice, mind. It's been a few years now, and I honestly preferred to have an on-again off-again, long distance, friends with benefits sort of relationship with them. Don't get me wrong, I'm still utterly gobsmacked by the beauty here. It's just.... claustrophobic? I used to complain to my parents that I couldn't breathe here. The humidity is stifling, I can't see the horizon, and there's always so much noise from chittering things in the trees. So many trees. They're like weeds. Beautiful and majestic, but Dorothy wants to leave the Emerald City when she can afford to move out.
I did, however, title this for Ninhursag. Living in the shadow of these mountains... I've learned a lot about my family. Some good, some bad. Also a lot about what it means to HAVE a family. My mother was always, to my eternal shock, the outdoorsy type. She's an absolute Hufflepuff. The most Hufflepuffy Hufflepuff to ever huff and puff. I, the squirrely Ravenclaw with a Slytherin streak, prefer my man made boltholes. We have our differences, our emotional callouses and bloody old wounds, stretch marks and stress reactions.
Ninhursag, mother of the gods, had a bit of a try-everything mad scientist husband who made mistakes just like anyone. Sometimes they fought, sometimes her husband's brother had to call her up via a helpful fox to say her husband was dying, and they would make up while she nursed her clever idiot back to health. She was one of two goddesses to join the ranks of the Seven Who Decree Fate, the second being the fiery and fickle Inanna. We know her as the Lady of the Foothills, Nin-hursaj (Lady-Mountain).
She was not born with this title. She was granted it. Not by Anu, not by Enki, but by her son Ninurta who marched against the Asag demon and his army of stone minions, magical talking mace in hand. And why? Was it because she gave him some sort of boon, was it because he was trying to curry favor?
No. She followed him into enemy territory out of motherly determination, she stood by him even in the rage of battle and was unmoved. For that, he named her Ninhursag. He gave her the mountains and everything they held, from the fruits at the peak to the ore of the roots, and all of the animals in between.
I like to think about that, sometimes. When it gets hard to remember why I try anymore. When I see a sugar-smile and remember when it covered up the thorns. When I'm too scared to call her, but also too bloody-hearted to let her sit in that house all alone. I remember that determination that could suture together all wounds, I remember that love isn't always a meadow thick with dandelion wishes. Sometimes it's battling an army made of granite and grit, seeing this spitfire lightning rod of a woman who never says die walk through the van and step to my side like she'd only lost me in the soup aisle, and letting her be my mother even when I'd rather she were anywhere else, away from her embarrassing shipwreck of a daughter.
So I light the cedar incense, take a deep breath, and pick up the phone.
A Very Sumerian Christmas
So, some friends of mine and I were thinking about the utter lack of Christmas-adjacent holidays in Sumerian Polytheism. My brain snagged on the idea of Santa Claus and Nanna's Journey to Nibru. The result? Ma-gur, or the festival of the processional boat. A celebration which starts seven days before the winter solstice. The celebration in question is of the seven who decree fate and the world which they have given us. It's a holiday about family as well as it is about honoring the gods. An - Solemn prayer and many candles to represent the stars. Sanctuary candle is lit and kept lit throughout the days to honor all the gods and symbolize how they guide us. Enlil - wishes for the new years and messages for the gods. Enki - prank war, and a general day of humor and celebration of the world order. Ninhursag - Day of charity and getting out into the world which the gods have created. Inanna - Day of giving to yourself, indulging and giving love to yourself and the gods. Utu - Day of improving the world around you. Fix broken things, commit to a cause, improve your life a bit. Rest and enjoy peaceful time with your family otherwise. Nanna - Gift giving and wild celebration. Winter solstice. Ends, as all the nights do, with offering and prayer to the god in question as well as tribute being given to one's ancestors, followed by the snuffing of the candle as the holiday comes to a close. That's the gist of it. Sounds like a good time either way. This is the slightly crisper version of a list that included things like "Inanna's Day- go clubbing" and "Ninhursag's Day- drag the kids into the mountains for bonding time". Also various ideas like tying wishes to balloons for Enlil's Day, water purification on Enki's Day, and letting some sunlight into my dark den of nerdiness on Utu's Day. Feel free to play with it. Pass it on?
