Contact With Isis
by G.E. & L.P.
This is an extract from
our magical diaries, or to be precise, a distillation of the records
of four rituals which took place between February 1989 and December
1990. The working was "The Meeting of Mind with Mind",
a ritual taken from Dolores' book First Steps in Ritual which
describes a technique whereby a man and a woman work together
to contact the goddess Isis. Dolores explains in her book that
this is a condensed version of one of the Grade Rituals of the
Priesthood of Isis in the city of On. We followed the text of
the ritual exactly as laid out in the book except that we changed
the opening slightly on one occasion. The text of the article
is based directly on the entries in our diaries. These were made
as soon as possible after each ritual, but they have been merged
and rearranged slightly in the interests of style and readability.
Before we began this series of rituals we were convinced that
nothing would happen, nothing could have been further from the
Contact with Isis
The opening was straightforward. The godforms built easily but,
it seemed, unremarkably. I had some trouble adjusting my physical
position so that there was a direct line of power through my throat
centre and out through the back of my head. As I settled down
into myself, I saw a thread of light come in from the Western
quarter and followed it. I seemed to lose all sense of my individuality,
I ceased to be me, but felt as though I was floating on someone
else's breath, gently and rhythmically floating up and down as
the breat rose and fell. It reminded me of the soft but persistent
pull of the waves and I felt as though I was back in that sea
that was before the start of all things. I was no longer "a
woman" but simply Woman. At this point I remembered that
I had to signal to my Priest so that he could begin to build the
As I concentrated upon the back of the priestess' head, I was
aware that it was growing less clear and even before I had time
to form the link properly (Dolores recommends that this is done
by visualising a line of light between particular areas of the
brains of the two magicians) I found myself falling downwards
and came to rest in a sort of rack chamber. There was a door cut
into the rock and I could see a girl beckoning me in. The invitation
was irresistible and I entered what seemed to be a vast cavern
in which were numerous very bright lights.
The sea rose and fell and I moved easily with it. I was comfortable
and whole in a way I had never felt before. The sea became menstrual
blood. It was the womb-cradle of the first life forms and I was
the first life.
As I looked around the cavern it filled with Binah imagery: it
was the primordial womb - it was flooded with menstrual blood.
Other images rushed upon me with such speed that I could hardly
keep track of them. Comparing notes afterwards we realised that
many of these were common to both of our visions. Some, for example,
the snow-white goose that we both saw, we could not immediately
place and it was only on consulting our symbol dictionary that
we realised that the white goose was a symbol of the Great Mother.
I was present at the birth of the stars and watched in wonder
as the once dark sky was filled with their silver radiance. And
then into the centre of my mental screen came a wonderful vision,
it seemed that Her head, from being bowed in sleep, rose so that
the eyes of the mighty Isis were looking directly into mine. I
knew that there were no secrets I could keep from Her and that
there was nothing that I could see that was not Her. At that moment
I was irreversibly altered: I remembered then what I suppose I
have always known, that I have always been and would always be
Her priestess. The feeling of power increased and I began to wonder
if I would be overwhelmed.
A great deal more womb imagery came to me together with half-formed
images of the Goddess herself. The sense of power was incredible:
it was raw, naked power but not in any way threatening. It seemed
to be quintessentially female in nature. The power was so great
at one point that I began to feel as if I would burst open. I
almost called to my priestess to stop and break the link.
A junoesque figure of a woman stood before me with a spear raised
in her hand. There was no sense of aggression in the way that
she threw the weapon at me. I gasped as it entered my heart centre.
The pain was so much that all of the tears I might otherwise have
shed were locked frozen inside.
I was looking upon the face of Isis. On her head was an Egyptian
headdress but as I watched ha face became the planet and her hair
the stars. I rushed towards her as a son rushes to be reunited
with his mother.
We were at her breasts and she was nurturing us. We were intertwined.
The vision faded and I became aware of another figure, seemingly
standing in front of us in the Temple. This time she was in her
dark aspect as the destroyer, her forrner beauty lost. Still she
opened her arms to me and called me daughter.
Before us was another form of the Goddess. She appeared as a hag,
her long fingernails like talons. I physically flinched thinking
that she was about to attack us. I asked her why she chose to
appear to us in such a sinister aspect and she replied that she
represented now the destructive phase of the birth-growth-death
cycle to which all life is subject. Then she lowered her clawed
hands and smiled at me. By this time I was beginning to feel exhausted
as well as elated and I began to undo the link with my priestess
and to withdraw back into myself. When I was fully back I signalled
so that the priestess could also begin to close down.
Following the signal I allowed my consciousness to withdraw back
into my physical body until I became aware one again of the Temple
surroundings and finally absorbed the silver thread.
We closed down the quarters, but the psychic echoes of the ritual
lingered, along with the scent of Kyphi, for the next 24 hours.
The memory will last a lifetime. Since the completion of the rituals
we have both been increasingly aware of the Goddess both within
our everyday lives and within ourselves.
I remember watching a nurse who, with infinite gentleness, was
helping an elderly resident to dress and suddenly I realised that
this was the Goddess in action, caring for one of her older children.
On another occasion, holding the hand of a dying woman, I found
myself half envying her in the knowledge that shortly a much greater
hand than mine would be holding hers. There has never been an
occasion since when I have felt the love of another human being
and not thought of the creator of that gift and thanked her wholeheartedly.
At other times, when something in my life has come to an end,
I have invoked the destroyer in myself to sweep away what is useless
with the same precision as a hairdresser sweeping up my hair from
the floor. People are talking about the return of the Goddess
but the truth is that she never reallv left: she was there all
the time sleeping within.
In her account of the ritual, Dolores says that for man "...contact
with Her brings a sense of wonder they never lose..." There
is no better way of summarising my own feelings. How sorry I feel
for those whose religion does not allow them to worship the eternal
Feminine as well as the eternal Masculine. They are missing so