Level up: To progress to the next level of... stats and abilities, often by acquiring experience points in role-playing games.
“I leveled up after defeating the dragon”
Each possessory tradition has its own definitions and assumptions; however, several concepts seem to be fundamental. The first is that the possessory experience includes more than one state of consciousness. Which one manifests depends on the ritual structure and expectations of the tradition, the training and qualities of the medium, and the needs of the situation. A second is that all of these states involve a (usually voluntary) dissociation from the primary person-identity. In gaming, levels are hierarchical, and leveling up is considered an advantage, but in my opinion the value of a possessory experience should be judged by how well it serves the medium and the community.
Emma Cohen defines “executive possession” as having the following features:
the presence of an incorporeal intentional agent in or on a person's body, that . . . temporarily effects the ousting, eclipsing or mediation of the person's agency and control over behaviour, such that . . . the host's actions are partly or wholly attributable to the intentions, beliefs, desires and dispositions of the possessing agent for the duration of the episode.
(Cohen 2008, 9)
In the African descended traditions, verbs such as “horsing” “carrying, hosting, receiving, to tall, to dance tor, to be out, to go under” or “be gone” may all be used for possession by a Power. Terms such as “channeling” and “mediumship” are used in New Age and Spiritualist circles. In neoshamanism, the technique is called “merging.” In some groups, “shadowing” refers to a state in which the Power is perceived as being near the medium rather than within. In Wicca, the major possessory activity is called Drawing Down the Moon (for the Goddess) or Drawing Down the Sun (for the God). The WildWood Tradition recognizes four states, or stages: Enhancement, Inspiration, Integration, and Possession (“Trance Possession” n.d.). The First Kingdom Church of Asphodel lists Aspecting, Shadowing, Channeling, and Possession (Filan and Kaldera 2009).
Ivo Dominguez Jr. of the Assembly of the Sacred Wheel defines Divine Possession as a state in which “the Great One that has been called interleaves itself into the subtle bodies of the practitioner like two decks of cards being shuffled into one” (op. cit., 115). Aspecting is a term also used by the Reclaiming, Feri, and other Pagan traditions. As practiced in the Assembly of the Sacred Wheel, it integrates the various parts of the Self to bring through the Power. For a full discussion of Dominguez's protocol for possessory states, see chapter 6 of his excellent book, Spirit Speak.
Gardnerian elder Don Frew explains,
When I give talks on deity possession, I usually say that the experience can involve any combination of six variables, each of which is a scale:
I have experienced or witnessed possession experiences with many different combinations of these variables.
(Frew 2014)
There has been a lot of debate regarding what constitutes an “authentic” possessory trance. In the African-derived traditions the assumption is usually that only somnambulistic trance, in which the medium is unable to remember anything that has happened, is real. For Maya Deren, over-whelmed by trance in a voudou ritual, it is “the white darkness.” As a medium from Belém, Brazil, describes it, “I don’t know where my spirit goes. I don't know. I only know that I switch off. I don’t remain in me” (in Cohen 2008, 9).
On the other hand, in groups derived from European magical traditions where the medium initiates the release of consciousness, he or she is expected to retain some awareness and control. According to Ivo Dominguez Jr. in Divine Embodiment, it is “a state of being created by will and with consent in which an individual anchors into themselves some portion of the energy, information, and essence of a discarnate being of greater stature and/or greater evolution than that of the incarnate individual (Dominguez 2008, 100). Judy Harrow reports that in the ritual, a priest invokes the Goddess into the priestess/medium, and recalls the medium “when She seems finished with what She had to say.” She usually remembers much of what went on (Harrow 2014).
River Devora, who has experienced possession in Heathenry, Santeria, Espiritismo, hoodoo, and spirit work, says,
When I am in full possessory trance . . . I generally have little to no memory of what happened. Sometimes I may have snippets of memory, though generally the memories are incomplete, not in sequential order, and I don’t remember how things piece together. Sometimes I am blacked out altogether, sometimes I may have a feeling of being held or absorbed into the heart of the Power (this is more true with the deities with whom I have oathed relationships). Occasionally I have had my own journeys and experiences in the spirit world happening tandem with the Power who is possessing me in the material world, but this is fairly rare.
(River Devora, 2014)
While the image of the horse and the rider has an archetypal appeal, today a more meaningful image is that of the car and the driver. In the early nineties, Don Frew characterized some kinds of possession as “riding in the back seat of a car—you can see and feel what's happening, and even speak up, but someone else is driving” (Frew 2014). This simile has spread through the pagan community, evolving into a continuum of related images.
The version used by the Global Spirits community is:
Sometimes the Spirit in the passenger seat gives you directions, and while some people come to and wonder what happened to the last few hours, others may spend the time talking to the gods in the Otherworld. As Lina puts it, “Sometimes it's like watching your car speed away—and hoping you will both get off at the same exit.” I think that it is a mistake to apply value judgments to different levels of possession. Lucid possession (like lucid dreaming, in which one is aware that they are dreaming) allows the medium to benefit from the expansion of consciousness; but if possession is amnesic, knowing that one has served the community by becoming a vehicle for a Power is the only reward. (Firesong 2014).
Given that possessory trance involves voluntary dissociation, it should be pursued only by those who have taken the lessons in part one to heart and are comfortable with their identity and boundaries. Those with a history of schizophrenia or dissociative disorders or who are currently taking heavy medications or in an emotionally vulnerable state should probably not participate either as a medium or attendee.
The purpose of training is to open the head (and body) to trance, but what actually happens when we do? When I give classes on trance work, we sometimes refer to the training process as “cracking the head.” In the Afro-Diasporic traditions, initiation may include actually making an incision in the top of the head and inserting sacred herbs. Opening up to possessory trance is not usually that dramatic, but studies have shown that learning to use your mind in new ways will in fact cause physical changes in your brain. Chanting or regulating one's breathing affects the prefrontal cortex. Depending on the kind of spiritual practice, comparative brain scans will show increased energy in the thalamus, frontal lobe, anterior cingulated cortex, or parietal lobe. The observed changes seem to be accompanied by improved mental health and ability to cope (New-berg and Waldman 2010).
But these studies have mostly focused on people who are practicing apophatic prayer. What about people who not only do not deny the senses, but invite the Divine to share their experience? If such a practice does not unbalance the psyche (and as we saw in part three, centuries of possessory practice in traditional cultures suggest that it does not), what is it about the ordinary human mind that allows this to happen?
In an article titled “Cultural Variations in Multiple Personality Disorder” (Golub 1995), Deborah Golub points out that the ability to dissociate is fundamental, ancient, and cross-cultural. Whether dissociative phenomena are interpreted as religious experience or mental dysfunction seems to depend upon when and where they are occurring. In the days before multiple personality disorder or dissociative identity disorder became psychiatric diagnoses, William James described hysterics as incipient mediums. This would certainly fit with the practice of many possessory cultures, in which certain illnesses are considered indications that the patient must be initiated into the cult of a particular deity.
However, possession by a deity and a dissociated identity are not the same. While the same psychobiological capabilities may make them possible, some form of culturally accepted altered consciousness occurs in almost all human societies, belief in possession in most of them, and trance in at least half, whereas multiple personality disorder is a diagnosis that is found mainly in industrialized Western society and is comparatively rare. Psychiatrists are still arguing about whether or why this is so. It has even been suggested that some diagnoses of dissociative identity disorder are therapy-induced. Are people in first world cultures conditioned not to believe in spirits, or is it only when psychological integrity has been damaged by trauma that they become vulnerable to involuntary trance? Does multiplicity only become dysfunctional when it clashes with the dominant culture's view of reality?
I have not found any studies that measure the neurological effects of possessory trance. The closest anyone seems to have come is some EEG research done in the eighties with patients with multiple personalities. The most interesting results are from F. W. Putnam's work with “evoked potential” responses, which are electrical changes that occur at particular spots on the cortex when the subject is exposed to a strobe light. The studies found that not only do different individuals respond with different patterns of spots, but that the various personalities, or “alters,” of a patient diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder responded differently from each other. The patterns for these alters resembled those of normal individuals with similar personalities, whereas the patterns of people who were role-playing such personalities did not (Kelly and Kelly 2007, 172).
Felicitas Goodman argues that
on the neurophysiological level, we are dealing with two manifestations of the same human capacity. In the case of the vodun dancer, in traditional possession, the map (of activated spots on the brain) is created under the effect of the ritual and then dissolves at the proper time. That is, possession constitutes a manipulation of brain processes that can be learned.
(Goodman 1988, 21)
I have long suspected that something of the sort might be so. I would venture to predict that if one were to try this experiment with three subjects in trance for Odin (who would find the process fascinating), the EEGs would show a clear similarity.
The level of a possessory experience may be determined by factors such as the purpose and parameters of the ritual, the amount of energy raised by the other participants, the intensity of their need, and the will of the Power. But I have come to believe that the most important single factor is the receptivity of the medium.
Western magic, like Western culture, emphasizes control—“Love is the Law, love under will” (Crowley 1938, I, 57). In possessory work, on the other hand, when we call on the gods we say “please.” Giving up control of one's body is an offering to the Power, a surrender as intimate as taking the receptive role in the act of love. The analogy between allowing a lover to penetrate one's body and allowing a Power to fill one's soul is obvious. In a sexual relationship receptivity is also usually a female role.
For this reason, although there is no physical reason a man cannot receive a Power, in cultures in which women's status is low and the status of a man depends on his strength the majority of mediums are women and gay men. This is certainly true in some groups in Brazil, where Ruth Landes was told,
No upright man will allow himself to be ridden by a god, unless he does not care about losing his manhood. His mind should always be sober, never dizzy or “tonto” from invasion by a god. Now, here's the loophole. Some men do let themselves be ridden, and they become priests with the women; but they are known to be homosexuals.
(Landes 1994, 37)
Men can perform divination, play the drums, or run the temples, but a straight man who feels himself about to “fall” may run out of the terreiro to avoid going into trance.
This was also true in the Viking Age, but may not have been so in the period that preceded it. In the introduction to his history of the Norse kings, Snorri Sturluson describes the magical skills of the god Odin, many of which require entering trance. He finishes by stating, “But the use of this magic is accompanied by so great a degree of effemination (argr) that men were of the opinion that they could not give themselves up to it without shame, so that it was to the priestesses that it was taught” (Sturluson 1990, 7).
According to Sorenson, “The man who is argr is willing or inclined to play or interested in playing the female part in sexual relations . . . When the feminine form of argr, örg is applied to a woman, it [means] . . . that she is generally immodest, perverted, or lecherous” (S
renson 1983, 18). By extension, the term is used for any behavior considered inappropriate for the Viking male. It is my belief that as Scandinavia was assimilated into medieval Europe, Christian concepts of the inferiority of women lowered the status of everything identified as feminine.
As a feminist I feel obliged to reject the imagery of being overpowered and abducted, even though being “carried away” is part of the ecstasy. Possessory work should not need to use the vocabulary of a rape culture. As a Heathen I find myself seeking new terms for a power differential that is not dependent on gender identity. What I can say is that the Powers are very big, and we are small. The relationship is inherently unequal, and no human can comprehend, much less contain, more than a portion of one of the Powers.
When meditating on this problem with Kuan Yin, I got the following insight:
Remember that you also have Buddha nature. You have the Divine within you. You cannot be spiritually raped if you expand and open to the divine essence that is yours and let it rise to meet the essence of the god. Yes, that is brilliant! A connection of equals—the expanded essence of your Self joining with the limited part of the god that you can perceive. That is a much more equal dance, yes? (warm laughter) You must become bigger, that's all.
My response was, “That's easy for You to say” but it is worth considering. Working with the Powers is indeed a mind-expanding experience. Those who practice yoga know that persuading the joints to move and the muscles to stretch takes time and patience. I think it is the same with the soul. If we develop a relationship with a Power based on knowledge and respect and then work to increase the capacity of our souls, our receptivity will become an offering rather than a sacrifice.
Look at the following list and note which experiences you have had. (Don't be too concerned about matching the description exactly—we all perceive things in different ways.) How, and in what context, did this happen? What was the result, and what did you learn?
Have you ever:
Sit down and get comfortable. Call to mind the Power you have been working with. You may focus awareness by contemplating an image or singing the song you have made for Him or Her. Now close your eyes and visualize the Power standing nearby. Build up the image in your awareness. If there are words, note the message.
Now ask the Power to come closer. See Him or Her sitting next to you or standing just behind you. Open your awareness to a sense of the Power's presence until you can feel it as a pressure beside you. Lean into it; savor the sense of being close.
Practice by thinking of your Power at other times. Open your awareness to His or Her presence while walking, eating, or watching a movie you think the Power would enjoy. Pay attention to your physical sensations and offer them for the enjoyment of the Power.
This exercise is one that I learned in the American Magic Umbanda House. It requires a group of people and some music. Participants form a circle and begin to sing a song for one of the Powers. If you do not have a song, choose a piece of music with a good rhythm that is appropriate to the Power's character or culture. As the music is sung or played, sway to the rhythm, clap, and think about the Power. As you feel the energy of the Power, move into the circle and stop singing. Dance or sway, letting the Power's energy move you. After a little while, step back into the circle and let someone else have a turn.