Embracing the Extraordinary: Exploring Mystical Experiences & the Future of Spirituality
One of the most profound experiences of my life occurred in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco in 2017. I was on a retreat which centred around Jungian psychology, contemplation in nature and culminated in a solo experience, a type of vision quest. Traditionally, vision quests were a rite of passage in which you communed alone with nature to understand more deeply your calling or purpose in life or to seek guidance during a life transition. At sunrise and, while fasting, each participant set out to sit alone in nature. Fasting provides the dual function of offering heightened awareness and alertness of what you are sensing and feeling and, more basically, eating would give you something to do. On a quest, you are creating the conditions of being completely alone with yourself and nature with zero distractions.
During an experience like this, every fear and frustration, every emotion, every block in your life, every demon in your psyche slowly begins to surface. With no distractions, you have no choice but to face them. I fought myself a lot during the solo, I looked for control over how I felt when it wasn’t there or available. Slowly, as I let go more into the experience, nature reflected back to me what I needed to understand about myself and my life. It offered me wisdom and insights into how I could live better, be better and lead better. It showed me how I could tend to where I was wounded, pointing me towards under-nurtured parts of myself seeking healing and expression in my life. Many of the ideas that would go on to inform my work such as the need for a greater sense of connectedness and the importance of community and how we care for each other came to me strongly during that experience.
On returning to my tent, I lay down briefly and closed my eyes to do a quick meditation. In that moment, I had an experience that could only be described as mystical. I felt this release of energy ripple across my chest and had a vision of a red lotus flower opening wide in my heart area. It felt like the area around my heart was opening like the flower I could see blooming. The small confines of my mind fell away and I had a felt sense of being completely connected to the universe around me and knowing in every part of my body I deeply belonged here. Life made sense to me in a way I had never experienced before. I was at the metaphorical mountain top. Ananda, in Sanskrit, a moment of bliss.
Maslow referred to moments like these, moments of self-transcendence, as peak experiences. He viewed them as enabling ‘inner illumination’₁ and creating an experience in which ‘the whole universe is perceived as an integrated and unified whole’₁. He believed these experiences were ‘acute identity experiences’₂ and a necessity in the process of self-actualisation. In these instances of oneness, connection or insight, we see ourselves and our place in the world most clearly. Even if just for a moment, we are on the mountain top. When the moment passes and we return to the valley of day-to-day life, we have greater clarity on who we are and how we should live. These experiences help propel us towards growth and transformation.
Peak experiences or altered states have fascinated me ever since. They were a theme in my research into spirituality and something I have long considered investigating further. In February, I returned to study the Professional Certificate in Psychedelics, Altered States and Transpersonal Psychology run by the Alef Trust in the UK. The certificate focuses on the transpersonal nature of the psychedelic experience and other altered states of consciousness and exceptional human experiences.
Psychedelic research has experienced a renaissance over the last decade as a growing number of clinical trials have demonstrated the impact psychedelic therapy can have on treatment-resistant depression, PTSD and other mental health issues. Many argue it is the mystical experience psychedelics evoke which is the cause of the transformative effect psychedelic therapy may bring₃. This experience can offer an opportunity to revisit and heal old events, bring a renewed sense of connectedness and belonging to life and enhance the ability to understand one’s life story.
It is the mystical experience which interests me most. Psychedelics are just one (albeit reliable) way to access a mystical experience. Many modalities such as time in nature, solo experiences or quests like my own, fasting, music, journeying and other traditionally spiritual practices have been shown to unlock mystical experiences, moments of insight and greater connection to self and the universe around us. They are also more accessible than psychedelics which, in most jurisdictions, are still considered Class A drugs and thus illegal outside of clinical settings.
To complete module one of the certificate we were required to give a group presentation on a topic of our choosing. I teamed with others on the course most interested in mystical experiences. Being the spiritual seekers we are, we asked big philosophical questions such as why do we seek the extraordinary? We examined the history and varieties of mystical experiences and debated their transformative power. The final part of the presentation was my responsibility in which I explored the question why do we deny the extraordinary?
Why Do We Deny The Extraordinary?
This question was personal for me. For a time after my mystical experience in Morocco, I told only a handful of people. I struggled to find the words to describe it and what it meant and, naturally enough, I feared people might think I was a bit wacky. I don’t think the term ‘peak experience’ was even in my lexicon at that point. But I didn’t need the term to understand what had happened to me was profound. It felt sacred and I was conscious that trying to rationalise it or explain it to others would run the risk of diminishing its importance. I attribute this experience to my decision to research spirituality for my MSc.
I am not alone in feeling this experience was life-changing. Many people who experience a spiritual or mystical experience, in clinical settings or otherwise, describe it as amongst the most meaningful experiences of their life – up there with the birth of a child and other major life events. Given the profound impact it had on me, and how others share similar experiences were deeply meaningful for them, I am drawn to understanding why, as a collective, do we discount them? If we know there is much evidence to support the transformational role they can play, why do we not embrace them more? How did we end up in a society in which the very experiences that heal and transform us, offer us the connection and belonging we so desire, that make us feel most alive are regularly denied, viewed as non-rational or too risky to share?
To understand this more we must first look to how, as a society, we overvalue the ‘rational’ or ‘intellectual’. According to Harvard psychiatrist George Vaillant, anthropologically, the perception of rationality as superior can be traced back to the invention of writing, and subsequently printing, which led to the ascendency of left-brain cognition over right-brain musicality, intuition and spirituality₅. This idea of ‘rationality as superior’ was heightened during the Enlightenment period and has accelerated further over the last century as we have become a more secular society. Practically, there was an evolutionary construct. The left-hemisphere allows for targeted attention, essential for survival, but it has become celebrated to such a degree we have muted our ability to see ‘the whole’ which is the role of the right hemisphere. This skewed over-dependence on rationality and focused attention has narrowed our perspective and reduced our ability to seek, understand and integrate exceptional experiences into our life. It has created an environment in which we deny the extraordinary; mystical experiences, higher states of consciousness, our intuition, our felt sense of self and our understanding of the inter-connectedness of life.
I wanted to distill this meta theme down and identify specifically how it creates or sustains the conditions in society in which we actively dismiss or deny extraordinary experiences. I settled on the following five as major contributors.
Socially: From a social perspective, we fear exposure if we admit publicly we are open to, interested in or available to mystical experiences. We have internalised the hangover of times gone by when discussing these experiences could result in expulsion from religions or social groups. Today, we still fear being discredited by the status quo.
Culturally: From a cultural perspective, we live in the ‘convenience economy’. A world in which everything is available on demand, in which we have immediate access to information or goods. A world in which urgency culture is prevalent is not conducive to cultivating a relationship with the most spiritual aspects of ourselves. When we move at speed, any experience of connectedness illudes us. The mystical, whether profound or subtle, needs an investment of time, space and practice to increase or enable reliability.
Intellectually: We have been taught to understand things simply from the neck up. Traditionally, the experience of an altered or ecstatic state was seen as either reserved for those anointed to experience them or alternatively primitive. Therefore, we discount how the psyche or our consciousness may be offering insights to us in different ways. If we are not taught to appreciate and understand different states of consciousness or ways of knowing beyond the rational mind, our lack of understanding diminishes our appreciation for them and the role they can play in our lives.
Individually: As individuals, we don’t trust the sense of connection we all have to something beyond ourselves. We can fear losing control and surrendering to mystical experiences and altered states of consciousness. This contributes to our heightened sense of existing as walled off individuals; separate from each other, the planet and any idea of a higher power or unity consciousness. We fear the loss of control real intimacy with all of who we are, each other and something beyond us will require.
Spiritually: The fall off in religious and spiritual participation over the past 50 years has resulted in a loss of sense-making skills for humanity. Our sense-making skills are not developed enough to explore, appreciate and integrate experiences outside of what is considered rational. There has been a significant loss of wisdom in this move and indeed a loss of community and support to help nourish the spiritual aspect of ourselves. Without this nourishment, the ability to access mystical states is weakened.
The Need For Spiritual Containers & Wisdom Schools
The last point for me is the potential anecdote. The fall off in religious and spiritual participation has created a vacuum of wisdom and meaning making for entire generations. In a purely secular environment, we are never challenged or supported to invest time into what we believe our relationship with the universe to be beyond the polarities of ‘believer’ or ‘atheist’. It leaves us without the resources to understand an essential aspect of ourselves and how we cultivate a sense of connectedness to life. A central tenet of spirituality in all its forms is connection. Many of the problems we face – the climate crisis, mass inequality and racism are born out of disconnection from ourselves, each other and the planet. Finding ways to nurture connection is a necessity for our collective future.
Socially, greater acceptance of spiritual health as a human need would provide a common language and experience for people to discuss their spiritual needs and personal practice without fear of judgement or retribution of some description. Culturally, it would challenge urgency culture. A key attribute of any spiritual practice is that of contemplation. We must slow down or stop to inject a spiritual practice or belief into our life. Adopting spirituality, in whatever way makes sense to us, immediately disrupts the cultural impediments which keep us confined to the narrow constructs of our minds. Spirituality provides us with practices to access all our wisdom centres - our body, heart, gut and, of course, our intellect so they can work together to expand our awareness and bring us into greater wholeness.
Many have left organised religion because it didn’t offer the container they needed, or the organisation had rules and restrictions they didn’t agree with or wish to adhere to. I am one of those people. While I find beauty and wisdom in the teachings of many of the religious and wisdom traditions of the world, I needed my own way of cultivating an experience of the sacred without a patriarchal lens applied to it. I had the luxury of investing a year of my life researching the topic so I could develop my understanding of and relationship with this aspect of myself. Others do not have the time, luxury or interest to do the same. Yet, at some point, they may find they are experiencing the same spiritual yearnings, needs and desire for enhanced purpose which turned up in my life. What then?
One of my classmates asked me a similar question during the Q&A of the presentation. Given my worldview and my focus on non-denominational spirituality, returning to organised religion wasn’t my answer (albeit for some it could be). In general, I don’t think the world needs more top-down influence. Power and spirituality rarely mix well. I am an advocate of people-led approaches in which we empower and support each other in exploring this aspect of who we are so we can find our own answers. This is why containers such as vision quests are so powerful; there is only you and the wisdom of nature to offer answers. No outside influence or opinions or false gurus.
Realistically, this is also not a complete solution. We need people to teach and guide and places to learn and practice. At the beginning of a personal exploration, we may not feel safe or experienced enough to open ourselves up to the extraordinary or mystical unless we have places and people to hold us while we investigate the deepest aspects of who we are. Diving deeper into the Self and psyche can unlock trauma or profound insights which require support and wisdom to integrate them afterwards. There remains a need for spiritual or wisdom containers, elders and communities to help with the transfer and dissemination of wisdom and practice to future generations and to existing generations who are spiritually bereft.
Teaching universal truths, offering guidance on how to inject contemplative practice into our life, supporting us as we attempt to slow down and live more mindfully are all counter-cultural ideas in a society obsessed with technology, speed and material results. Without the right people and places, it can feel lonely and delicate in moments. Spiritual practice alone is fine but I have found it is not always enough. I long for the ease and natural community traditional church-goers feel. Like mental health 10 or 15 years ago, the role of spiritual health is not widely spoken about, but that tide is turning. The challenge for us as we develop offerings and solutions to fill this need will be to keep connection and community at the centre and power and hierarchy out of it.
Thank you to Inese Purmale, Summer Hatchett & David Rodríguez who share my love of exploring mystical experiences and with whom I collaborated for the group presentation which led to this article.
References:
₁. Maslow, A. H. (1964). Religion, values and peak experiences. New York, NY: Viking.
₂. Maslow, A. H. (1961). Peak experiences as acute identity experiences. The American Journal of Psychoanalysis, 21(2), 254–262. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF0187312
₃. Ko K, Knight G, Rucker JJ and Cleare AJ (2022) Psychedelics, Mystical Experience, and Therapeutic Efficacy: A Systematic Review. Front. Psychiatry 13:917199. doi: 10.3389/fpsyt.2022.917199
₄.Vaillant, G. (2008). Spiritual Evolution. New York, NY: Broadway.