I recently experienced my first full trance possession—an unexpected and deeply profound moment where a deity took complete control of my body. Although I’ve entered trance states many times before, such as through Middle Eastern Zar dances or during drum and fire circles, where I connected to higher states of consciousness, I had always retained some awareness of my physical body. This time, however, was entirely different. The deity fully took over, guiding me beyond any mental realms I had explored before.
For context, trance possession is a powerful spiritual phenomenon where an individual enters an altered state of consciousness, allowing an external entity—a spirit, deity, or supernatural force—to take over their body and mind. This often occurs through rituals, dances, or deep meditation, as the person’s usual awareness fades, and they become a vessel for the entity to communicate or act through. Across many cultures, from Haitian Vodou to Santería and indigenous shamanic practices, trance possession is seen as a sacred way to connect with divine beings for guidance, healing, or empowerment. Though often intentional and ritualized, the experience can vary significantly, with physical or vocal changes manifesting as the possessing force exerts its influence. It’s a transformative, sacred act that bridges the human and spiritual realms. Despite the spiritual significance, I was left with a storm of emotions—many of them confusing and difficult to process. To give you a better idea, I wasn’t engaged in any spiritual practice or preparing a sacred space where a deity would typically be invited. It happened completely spontaneously. I did sense Her presence beforehand (yes, it was a She, and while it took me days to fully understand which deity had taken over my body, I eventually realized it was Inanna). I can recall fragments of the possession, but I can't share all the details because much of it remains unclear. What stands out most is speaking another language—my husband said it sounded ancient—and "seeing" him trying to shake me out of it, though it felt as if I was looking through a smoky veil. Beyond that, my memory is blank. I still don’t fully understand why She appeared or what Her purpose was, but afterward, I was flooded with conflicting emotions. On one hand, I felt honored that Inanna had chosen me, for whatever reason. Yet, on the other hand, I felt violated. This wasn't a moment where I had invited or anticipated Her presence. Yes, our home is deeply dedicated to our spiritual practice, and maybe that’s why She felt comfortable manifesting there, but being "jumped" like that was terrifying. For days, I was consumed by the fear that it could happen again. And why Inanna? While I adore ancient cultures and their deities, She isn’t part of the pantheon I usually worship. After speaking with my Mambo (Vodou High Priestess), she too was unsettled by the experience. Spontaneous trance possession can be dangerous—what if I had been driving at the time? Everything I’ve read about deity consent emphasizes the importance of inviting a deity or spirit before possession occurs. In many spiritual traditions that involve trance possession, such as Voodoo, Santería, and ceremonial magick, deity or spirit consent is considered essential. These practices involve inviting deities or spirits to temporarily inhabit a practitioner’s body. However, this invitation must be met with the spirit’s willingness to "mount" or possess the individual, a form of divine consent. In traditions like Voodoo, the spirit’s acceptance of the invitation is a sacred moment, and possession only happens if the spirit chooses to enter the practitioner. Similarly, in ceremonial magick, practitioners invoke deities or spirits with great care, understanding that these entities cannot be coerced—possession must be voluntary and intentional. But this led me to an important question: What about the practitioner’s consent? During my research, I came across some insightful writings by Ember Voices on trance possession, particularly a post where she discusses the challenges of relinquishing control of one’s body to a deity. One line struck me deeply: "It’s weird to think of developing the ability to get out of the damned way and let somebody else use my body as an accomplishment." Yes, yes it is! It’s also terrifying, whether that surrender is voluntary or, in my case, involuntary (I would have much preferred for it to be voluntary!). Now, I find myself at a crossroads. I’ve realized I’m capable of trance possession, and I’m left wondering: should I pursue this ability? Should I hone this skill, learning to control it within a ritualized, safe environment where I know exactly who will take over and when? While the experience can be unsettling, it’s also undeniably spiritual and potentially exhilarating. Drawing Down the Moon is not an unfamiliar concept, though I’ve never attempted it before. I’m contemplating whether it’s time to embrace this path with intention, discipline, and reverence. If I am going to move forward, I need to make one thing very clear: I will not allow trance possession to happen without my permission or during times when I’m unprepared. This is my body, my sacred space, and consent—on both sides—is essential
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