Heart and Crown

Invocation and Drawing Down the Moon

I can only speak for my own practice here as always, so what I relate here should be taken as my personal experiences and the feedback from those in Circle with me. Your mileage may vary.

First, a Few Definitions

Invocation and evocation are often used interchangeably in Pagan ritual, but in truth they are two different practices originally from Ceremonial Magick (CM). Invocation is calling a spiritual or magical being into your body, whether they stay or simply move through on their way to do something else; evocation is the act of summoning something to appear before you. The connotation in CM is that evocation is done forcibly if necessary, but in Wiccan ritual it could be said that evocation is what is really meant when people say "invoke the Goddess and God"--you call Them to join in the ritual, but not just in your body, in the room as well so everyone can enjoy Their presence.

Invocation is known to many religions in various forms and to varying degrees of intensity, ie being "ridden" by the spirits in Voudon, or being "filled with the Holy Spirit" and speaking in tongues in Pentecostal services. The important thing is that evocation happens outside of you, and invocation inside.

In my opinion, the term "invocation" is actually appropriate regardless, as in my own way of doing things Deity is not separate from me; even in the act of evoking Them, I am invoking as well, and They come forth from inside me and outside to inhabit inside and outside. Invocation, then, includes the two practices that follow, which are specifically designed to host Deity inside a person rather than in the Circle.

Aspecting - inviting a particular facet of Deity (or a particular Deity, if you're polytheistic) to inhabit your body temporarily during ritual. In essence, you become that Deity; the one chosen reflects the purpose of the ritual and the particular need of the group. If you were performing a Sabbat for the harvest, for example, you might choose to Aspect Demeter, provided your tradition worked with Her or the Greek pantheon in general. It's usually considered a Very Bad Idea to Aspect or otherwise invoke beings you know nothing about, whether you're a polytheist or not. Aspecting is not something to do lightly even if you're very familiar with the Deity.

Drawing Down the Moon - describes the mystical practice of Aspecting specific to Wicca, in which the Moon Goddess is drawn into the body of the priestess. In traditional circles the High Priest does the drawing, meaning that he opens the HPS's chakras and issues the invitation; in the complementary practice of Drawing Down the Sun, the technique is opposite, with the HPS drawing into the Priest. DDtM is typically done at Full Moon Esbat rituals. Often the phrase "Drawing Down" (DD) is used synonymously with Aspecting.

My Own Experiences

In my Wiccan practice I have had two very different kinds of experiences with invocation. If you've spent any time on this site or had any dealings with my blog you may already know that I have a very close and rather unusual relationship with the God, and a more traditional one with the Goddess; my invocative experiences with each have been unique.

When it comes to the God, the idea of Drawing Him Down is rather ludicrous in my practice, because every time we work together I am essentially doing just that. Our relationship is built entirely around ecstatic dance; in my dance rituals I basically open myself and allow Divine energy to move through me, letting myself be danced. There are no words, no ritual tools, just me and the stereo and a big glass of water. I cannot Aspect my particular god unless I am dancing (well, except that one time in bed, but that was unexpected and hilarious).

The feeling of this kind of invocation is hard to describe, but it is distinctly different from Drawing Down the Moon, which I'll get to in a minute. Dancing the God doesn't feel like I have some being in my body who's calling the shots; it feels like complete unity with the Source, as if the boundaries of my being are dissolving and I am melting into nothing but rhythm and endless motion. At the beginning and end of these rituals we can communicate in words, but in the midst of trance dance, words have no meaning. While it is a transformative and enlightening thing, I couldn't channel this kind of unity to a particular magical purpose; its purpose is to exist, and to dance. To raise energy for magic by dancing I have to close myself partway off so that I can't lose my focus--it's rather like sex magic in that way, where you have to divide your attention between holding your intent and reaching the climax.

I didn't set out to learn how to Dance the God. It just sort of happened one night. You can read more about my work with Him here.

As to the Goddess, and Drawing Down the Moon, well, the story there is probably more typical of other people's DD experiences in that it included a lot of trial and a lot of error.

Invocation is one of those things you have to learn by doing; a lot of people are scared of it, particularly if they are working solo and have no one to teach them. Very few books go into the subject at any depth--most books written for solitaires barely even mention it, and if they do they dismiss it as a group thing. As American Wicca is perpetuated primarily by solitaires and maverick small groups made up of people with a minimum of experience, I've noticed that Drawing Down isn't as widespread as it used to be.

I can understand people's trepidation. When the traditional Wiccans say Drawing Down isn't for the faint of heart, they aren't kidding. While I don't think the potential for dire consequences is as high as it's often made out to be, full-on invocation isn't something you can do with any degree of skill as a beginner--not because you'll get struck by lightning or some other horrible disaster will befall you, but because it probably won't work.

The first DD I ever witnessed was at a Croning ritual, where Hecate was Drawn into a woman I vaguely knew. As the chant peaked, and silence fell, I felt something happen. I was young and dumb and lacked the language or knowledge to describe it, but Helen's entire demeanor changed; her speech patterns rose and fell in a way they never had before; there was a dark and beautiful something in the room I could only call a presence, and it was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. When she put her hands on your head, you knew they were more than just her hands.

My first attempt at DD was solo, in my early twenties, when I had plenty of spiritual experience with Wicca but less experience working with energy. I had always been fascinated by the idea of Aspecting, partly because it was so foreign to what I knew of religion--God did not descend to our level except through Jesus Christ, and the idea of Him hanging around in my body was close to laughable. The more I read, however, the more alluring it became, and I decided I was going to try it.

I happened upon a good book with an unfortunate title: Summoning Forth Wiccan Gods and Goddesses, which was all about invocation. It had exercises, rituals, and ideas for going it solo. I devoured the book like a starving woman and set about practicing, and practicing. I also found a one-person Drawing Down ritual in Phyllis Curott's Witch Crafting, and was convinced I could do it.

One Full Moon at Samhain, I borrowed a friend's back yard, went outside in nothing but a white sheet, recited a long and flowery invocation, aligned my chakras, and stood beneath the radiant eye of the Lady for an hour…but nothing happened. All I got for my trouble were mosquito bites and an ass print in the lawn.

Invocation Insight #1: It doesn't always work, especially at the beginning. There's a reason you don't learn Aspecting in the first year of most Wiccan training curricula. You have to be able to really open yourself, get out of your own way, and let it happen, unattached to the outcome. That requires trust both in the Deity and your own abilities, and most of us don't have that right away. That's part of the reason most priestesses have the Charge of the Goddess memorized--in case nothing happens, they always have something beautiful to say. It's possible something does happen, and though you can't feel it, anyone else in the room can; don't shrug off the ritual until you've heard how everyone else reacted.

Another problem with DD by yourself is that you don't have the feedback of other people to help back up what you feel. Just like with other magic, often we think, "Did something really happen or am I making it up? Was that it?" It's kind of like losing your virginity. "Are they done? Am I done? Is that it?" It takes seeing the results of your spellwork to know for sure, but with invocation it's harder to be positive that something did indeed happen if all you felt were a few tingles in your fingers and a sudden urge to speak with a British accent.

The next time I tried it, I wasn't alone. It was with one of a number of attempts at coven-building among my friends, and I and two sister Witches figured we'd give it a go, as an experiment to see what would happen. We trusted each other, had no particular expectations; I had read a lot about what is supposed to happen, but we went into it with an attitude of "Hey, why not?"

Invocation Insight #2: Do your prep work. The week before, I sat down every night at my altar and meditated on Drawing Down, focusing on creating a space within myself for the Goddess to enter and put up Her feet. I visualized myself as a vessel, a chalice waiting to be filled, the Ace of Cups with the Moon pouring Her light down into me. I was pretty much making it up as I went along, though I studied Vivianne Crowley's words on the subject, especially with regard to the roles of the HP and HPS.

In traditional Circles the HP does the Drawing Down into the HPS, and vice versa. The HP's job is to basically open up the HPS's chakras, issue the invitation, and help keep the HPS receptive, as well as to catch her if she falls over, I suppose. That way, all the HPS has to do is concentrate on being receptive, and step back. The less you have to think about while all this is going on, the better; hence, while DD is definitely possible solo, it's way easier with a partner.

My partner, in this case, was the woman who would eventually become my co-priestess when our coven came along. We knew we worked well together, and I knew she had mad chakra skills, so she opened my chakras and did the HP's job. We were in a hidden area of a public park, with the Moon breaking through the treetops just as we began; there was only the sound of wind, and crickets, and the occasional plane. The night seemed to slip into another form of time, and I could actually feel each chakra expanding, like a balloon filling with energy. I felt buoyant, perfectly empty, yet full of potential. I closed my eyes, but the Moon still filled my vision; it grew closer and closer, larger and larger, until…

Well, I don't know. The rest of the ritual is a blur. Apparently I--or We--spoke to the others, blessed a chalice, and then departed, but the next thing I fully remember is drinking from the cup. Based on the reactions I got, it was a rousing success.

Invocation Insight #3: Drawing Down the Moon will fuck you up. It's not dangerous, per se, but it is demanding, and will likely drain you to the dregs of your personal energy, even if you're a very grounded person. In fact, it took a lot out of all three of us, and even sitting in a restaurant stuffing our faces afterward none of us seemed able to speak in coherent sentences. For days afterward I drifted around in a euphoria, punctuated with horrible headaches because I kept forgetting to ground and center. Normally I'm a quick grounder, but after DD, you have to consciously make the effort to ground, reground, and ground again for several days.

The only time I've heard of Aspecting being genuinely hazardous is when the people doing it knew nothing about the Deity in question and called Him or Her for frivolous or underhanded reasons, with no preparation and no consideration. You don't invoke Pele unless you damn well need to invoke Pele--many Gods and Goddesses don't take kindly to being toyed with. My recommendation, if you want to give DD a try, is to work with the Deities you already revere, or if you don't have patrons, do your homework. Learn what offerings and titles a particular Aspect will respond to. Be certain you want to hear what He or She will have to say. Often when a Goddess is called into a ritual, She will lay a charge on you, taking the opportunity to let you know what is expected of you as Her priest or priestess. Be sure you're ready for that. By and large, whether you're duotheist, polytheist, panentheist, or whatever, whatever you think the gods actually are, they do not screw around.

It does get easier and take less of a toll with practice, but no matter how adept you are, channeling a Goddess is going to do crazy things with your energy, as well it should--otherwise it would be too tempting to just stay Drawn Down all the time, and we'd be crispy critters in a week. Human beings weren't built to host Deity in their bodies for more than a little while; imagine the most hardcore spell or ritual you've ever done, and multiply that times a hundred, and imagine feeling that way for days and days. We were meant to live our lives as human beings, and experience the world fully, not going all half-astral.

Like many Wiccan practices, DD is a peculiar combination of exhilarating, powerful, fun, and scary as hell. Whatever you do while you're Aspecting, whether it's blessing an object, or people, dispensing Divine wisdom, or celebrating in the Circle, the most wonderful thing about it is that, once you've let the Goddess fill you, She never completely leaves. Some part of you has been transformed, widened, healed. My experience is that each time I've tried it, afterward I seem to make a leap forward in my magical skills--handling energy becomes that much easier, sensing power in ritual becomes clearer, divinatory prowess gets kicked up to notches unknown. If I had my way I'd cram a Drawing Down into every ritual, but because it takes so much preparation and makes me so wasted afterward, it's something to be done with care. Besides, in invocation we make ourselves the dwelling-place for our most honored Guests; the invitation should be issued with respect and reverence. A mint on the pillow doesn't hurt either.

Copyright 2006 Dianne Sylvan. All rights reserved.