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Volume 27

Number 1, 1995

The plateau experience and the post-mortem life: Abraham H. Maslow’s


unfinished theory 1
Tom S. Cleary & Sam I. Shapiro

Phenomenological mapping: A method for describing and comparing


states of consciousness 25
Roger Walsh

Toward the objective exploration of non-ordinary reality 57


Charles T. Tart

Rediscovering native rituals: “‘Coming home’ to my self” 69


Sandra Diaz & D. Don Sawatzky

Zen meditation: A psychoanalytic conceptualization 87


George Leone

REVIEW
Transpersonal psychologies: Perspective on the mind from seven great spiritual traditions, Tart
The meditative mind: The varieties of meditative experience, Goleman
The world’s religions, Smith
Personality and personal growth, Fadiman & Fragcr
Paths beyond ego: The transpersonal vision, Walsh & Vaughan
The inward arc: Healing and wholeness in psychotherapy and spirituality, Vaughan
The ego and the dynamic ground: A transpersonal theory of human development, Washburn
Healing the split: Integrating spirit into our understanding of the mentally ill, Nelson
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EDITORIAL Miles A. Vich, editor
STAFF
James Fadiman, Sonja Margulies,
John Welwood, associate editors

Ken Wilber, consulting editor

Paul M. Clemens, technical editor

Michael S. Hutton, assistant editor

Francis G. Lu, David Lukoff, research review co-editors

FIELD Marcie Boucouvalas, Virginia Polytechnic Institute


EDITORS Jack Engler, Schiff Center, Cambridge, Massachusetts
Jacques Maquet, University of California, Los Angeles

BOARD OF J. F. Bugental, Santa Rosa, California


EDITORS James Fadiman, Menlo Park, California
Viktor Frankl, University of Vienna, Austria
Daniel Goleman, New York, New York
Elmer E. Green, Menninger Foundation, Topeka, Kansas
Stanislav Grof, Mill Valley, California
Herbert V. Guenther, University of Saskatchewan, Canada
Stanley Krippner, San Francisco, California
Lawrence LeShan, New York, New York
John Levy, San Francisco, California
Sonja Margulies, Sunnyvale, California
Michael Murphy, San Rafael, California
Huston Smith, Syracuse University, New York
Charles T. Tart, Berkeley, California
Frances E. Vaughan, Tiburon, California
Miles A. Vich, Palo Alto, California
Thomas N. Weide, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Roberto Assagioli (1888-1974) Sidney M. Jourard (1926-1974)


Hubert Bonner (1901-1970) Arthur Koestler (1905-1983)
Medard Boss (1903-1990) Gabriel Margulies (1931-1981)
Alister Brass (1937-1987) Abraham H. Maslow (1908-1970)
Charlotte Buhler (1893-1974) Walter N. Pahnke (1931-1971)
Alyce M. Green (1907-1994) Chögyam Trungpa (1939-1987)
Robert Hartman (1910-1973) Alan Watts (1915-1973)

Anthony J. Sutich (1907-1976), founding editor, 1969-1976


VOLUME 27, NUMBER 1, 1995
THE JOURNAL OF TRANSPERSONAL PSYCHOLOGY

Editor’s note iv TABLE


OF CONTENTS
The plateau experience and the post-mortem life:
Abraham H. Maslow’s unfinished theory 1
Tom S. Cleary & Sam I. Shapiro

Phenomenological mapping: A method for describing


and comparing states of consciousness 25
Roger Walsh

Toward the objective exploration of


non-ordinary reality 57
Charles T. Tart

Rediscovering native rituals: “‘Coming home’


to my self” 69
Sandra Diaz & D. Don Sawatzky

Zen meditation: A psychoanalytic conceptualization 87


George Leone

Book review 95

Books our editors are reading 96

Books noted 97

About the authors 98

Abstracts 99

Back issues 101


editor’s note It is fascinating to see both seasoned researchers and new scholars
reexamine phenomena and ideas that have been overlooked or
misunderstood for decades. At times it seems that one of transper­
sonal psychology’s special contributions is to “make sense” of
realities that a conventional viewpoint might dismiss or ignore. In
this issue, each article proposes that we look afresh at such ne­
glected or mischaracterized aspects of human experience.

The near-end-of-life experiences of one of this Journal's founders,


the almost inexplicable altered state experiences of a normal busi­
nessman, the crucial reentry of alienated young people into the
rituals of tribal life, the rethinking of a classic meditation practice,
and a systematic way to map and compare such experiences, are all
offered in a spirit of open inquiry. These papers show that intellec­
tual curiosity, disciplined observation, a careful weighing of find­
ings, and a reevaluation of guiding theories, can help us under­
stand, in new ways, some of the most elusive and mysterious
aspects of human life.
THE PLATEAU EXPERIENCE AND
THE POST-MORTEM LIFE: ABRAHAM
H. MASLOW’S UNFINISHED THEORY

Tom S. Cleary
Honolulu, Hawaii

Sam I. Shapiro
Honolulu, Hawaii

On Monday, June 8, 1970, Abraham Harold Maslow was outdoors


by the poolside of his home in Menlo Park, California. Following
his cardiologist’s orders, Maslow noted the time on his stopwatch
and began to jog slowly in place. His wife Bertha was relaxing a
few feet away. Suddenly, Maslow collapsed without a sound. By
the time his wife rushed to his side, he was already dead of a
massive heart attack. Maslow was sixty-two years old at the time—
a distinguished psychologist and key theoretician of humanistic
and transpersonal psychology still in the midst of a productive
career.1

Maslow had a pre-existing heart condition, the result of a heart


attack about nineteen months earlier, and had been advised that it
would take two to three years for his heart to rebuild itself. Until
then, he would be at high risk for another, possibly fatal, heart
attack, and his doctors told him he would have to live very care­
fully. At least as much as his enthusiasm for living permitted, he
did set forth to live carefully and savored the days. Maslow began searching
searching for a philosophical context to deal with the possibility of for a
dying very soon. Difficult as it is to face the possibility of one’s philosophical
own end, he felt he had come to a point at which he could transcend context
his fear of death. Maslow made public statements to this effect in
his last two conference presentations (Krippner, 1972; Interna­
tional Study Project, 1972). In his last major address, given three
months prior to his death in 1970, Maslow (International Study
Project, 1972) made the following poignant statement:

Copyright © 1995 Transpersonal Institute

The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1 1


It’s quite clear that we are always suffering from this cloud that hangs
over us, the fear of death. If you can transcend the fear of death, which
is possible—if I could now assure you of a dignified death instead of an
undignified one, of a gracious, reconciled, philosophical death . .. your
life today, at this moment would change. And the rest of your life
would change. Every moment would change. I think we can teach this
transcending of the ego (p. 53).

Maslow shared publicly what he had learned in becoming recon­


ciled with his own death. He felt strongly that he had been given a
reprieve. If he experienced any feelings of fear, Maslow apparently
“preferred to keep them to himself and not upset others” (Hoffman,
1988, p. 327). Maslow often expressed his gratitude for still being
gratitude alive, and declared more than once that the time left to him was “a
for bonus” (Harris, 1970; Krippner, 1972). During an interview a few
still months after his heart attack in 1968, Maslow described the atti­
being tude that he had adopted:
alive
My attitude toward life changed. The word I use for it now is the post­
mortem life. I could just as easily have died, so that my living consti­
tutes a kind of an extra, a bonus.... I might just as well live as if I had
already died.... Every single moment of every single day is trans­
formed because the pervasive undercurrent—the fear of death—is
removed (Harris, 1970, p. 16).

Maslow spoke on this theme of gratitude for the present moment


several times before he died. He also expressed the belief that other
people might have this experience of gratitude for life if they could
be near death and then suddenly have a reprieve (Hoffman, 1988;
Krippner, 1972; International Study Project, 1972). At one confer­
ence (Krippner, 1972), Maslow stated that a good description of
this experience of a reprieve from death and its influence on one’s
attitude toward life could be found in Arthur Koestler’s autobio­
graphical account of the period he spent in Spain. Koestler had a
confrontation with death in Spain during the Civil War. After being
apprehended on suspicion of being a communist, and awaiting
execution before a firing squad the next morning, Koestler man­
aged to fall asleep while in his prison cell. Koestler “woke up in an
ecstasy, partly because of the fact he was to be executed. He saw
for the first time how blue the sky was” (Krippner, 1972, p. 119).

Maslow speculated that a reprieve from death might be responsible


for a dramatic shift in an individual’s patterns of daily life. In his
own case, for example, he felt that he had worked too hard prior to
his heart attack.

Since [my] heart attack, so many people—and I myself—[have been]


thinking of how hard I worked and why I didn’t take it easier.... No
question of my sense of responsibility for years, of duty, a kind of
messianic quality, as if only I were available to bring the message
(reported in Hoffman, 1988, p. 309).

2 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995, Vol. 2 7, No. 1


After the heart attack, Maslow canceled all speaking engagements,
including his forthcoming Presidential address to the American
Psychological Association.2 Fatigued much of the time, he wrote
little except in his journals, which had become increasingly impor­
tant to him. Although the workload reduction was necessary at first
because of his medical condition, later Maslow reported that the
experience of being near to death had brought about a shift in his
values that contributed to his choosing to continue working less:
“The dominance hierarchy, the competition, the competitiveness
and glory, certainly become foolish_____ ” (Krippner, 1972, p. 119).
He also discovered a shift in awareness—one that became a dis­
tinctive experience of transcendence. It was this transcendent state
of consciousness that Maslow came to call the “plateau experi­
ence” (Maslow, 1970).

Maslow did not provide a succinct characterization of the plateau


experience, but the following characterization appeared in the
glossary of Hoffman’s (1988) biography and can serve as a pre­
liminary guide:
a
[It is] a serene and calm, rather than intensely emotional, response to characterization
what we experience as miraculous or awesome. The high plateau of
always has a noetic and cognitive element, unlike the peak experience, the
which can be merely emotional; it is also far more volitional than the plateau
peak experience; for example, a mother who sits quietly gazing at her
experience
baby playing on the floor beside her (p. 340).

In the two conferences he addressed in the final months before his


death, Maslow devoted attention to the plateau experience and
related themes. Given this interest, it is evident that he would have
continued studying this phenomenon had he not succumbed to a
fatal heart attack. Unfortunately, following his death, the concept
of the plateau experience fell into relative obscurity.3

Nevertheless, the heightened state of awareness that Maslow chose


to call the plateau experience holds interest not only as a topic in its
own right, but also because it may contribute to a greater under­
standing of a psychology of transpersonal consciousness, develop­
ment, and insight.

Maslow’s investigation of the plateau experience was part of his


larger, ongoing interest in exploring “the farther reaches of human
nature” (Maslow, 1971), which, towards the end of his life, in­
creasingly focused on a transpersonal dimension.

THE PLATEAU EXPERIENCE

The concept of the plateau experience is related not only to


Maslow’s personal development, but also to his evolving research

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 3


interests and the emergence of the transpersonal psychology move­
ment (Maslow, 1971, 1979).

Despite the broad scope of humanistic psychology in the late


1960s, and Maslow’s leading role in its development, he eventually
came to question its theoretical comprehensiveness. During his
studies of the peak experience—the most ecstatic, joyous, happi­
est, blissful moment in one’s life (Maslow, 1971, pp. 174, 175)—
he also had come across reports of transcendent experiences and
expanded states of consciousness beyond conventional ego bound­
aries (Maslow, 1970). This led him to the study of mysticism and
transcendence (Roberts, 1978). He observed that individuals who
had experienced transcendent forms of the peak experience valued
them as the most important part of their lives (Maslow, 1970).
Many of these peak experiences he categorized as transcendent
states of consciousness.

Partly because of Maslow’s increased skepticism that humanistic


psychological theory could adequately explain transcendent
states—increasingly common experiences in society at large be­
cause of the rise of consciousness altering techniques in the
1960s—he became convinced that humanistic psychology was
only a transitional psychology. In the Preface to the second edition
of his book, Toward a Psychology of Being (1968), Maslow stated,
“I consider Humanistic, Third Force Psychology to be transitional,
a preparation for a still ‘higher’ Fourth Psychology, transpersonal,
transhuman, centered in the cosmos rather than in human needs and
interest, going beyond humanness, identity, self-actualization, and
the like” (p. iii). Perhaps Maslow’s interests also changed because
his increasing age and maturity lent greater urgency to his percep­
tion of a need for a psychology more attuned to spiritual develop­
ment (Shapiro, 1994). Whether it was the result of his new perspec­
tive on the peak experience, or growing reservations about the
recognizing scope of humanistic psychology, or insights related to his personal
the development and age, Maslow’s views about optimal human
significance potential had clearly expanded in the late 1960s to recognize
of the significance of transcendent experiences and the need for a
transcendent broader, transpersonal psychology.
experiences
Anthony Sutich, editor of the Journal of Humanistic Psychology—
a key founder of the humanistic psychology movement along with
Maslow—also had begun to feel dissatisfied with the apparently
limited scope of humanistic psychology in the late 1960s. He came
to believe that the prevailing theory of self-actualization in human­
istic psychology no longer appeared comprehensive enough. This
came as something of a surprise to him for he had originally
thought that self-actualization “was a very large conceptual ‘um­
brella’ and that it would be several generations before a larger one
would be necessary” (Sutich, 1976b, p. 7).

4 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


At this time, public and professional interest in the psychology of
consciousness and transpersonal experience was also growing. A
variety of consciousness-altering techniques, such as biofeedback,
psychedelics, and meditation, were being experienced by an in­
creasing number of lay people and mental health professionals.
This led to an interest among some researchers to expand the field
of psychological inquiry to include the study of optimal psycho­
logical health and well-being (Maslow, 1971; Walsh & Vaughan,
1980), including transpersonal states of consciousness.

Maslow, Sutich, and others also saw at this time a need to recog­
nize and integrate classical Asian psychology traditions such as
Zen Buddhism, Taoist philosophy, and Yoga, into psychological recognizing
theory and practice (Walsh & Vaughan, 1980). As Walsh and Asian
Vaughan (1980) noted, the experiences and states of mind de­ psychology
scribed by the Asian psychology traditions appeared to represent traditions
an essential part of human nature that needed to be taken into
account in any psychological theory attempting to delineate a
model of the whole person.

From the Peak to the Plateau Experience

Prior to his work on transpersonal experience, Maslow began to


perceive various limitations in the concept of the peak experience.
He came to recognize that satisfaction can be found not only in the
more emotionally charged forms of the peak experience (e.g.,
music, sex, or dancing), but also in the toil of everyday living
(Maslow, 1962). He felt that there is something inappropriate
about removing oneself from everyday life to seek peak experi­
ences, such as by joining group workshops and encounter groups—
then very much in vogue within the humanistic psychology move­
ment (Maslow, 1979). He did not oppose experiential encounters in
principle, but he viewed them only as techniques for personal
development, rather than as a way of life, which some advocates
apparently took them to be (Maslow, 1979). Moreover, he noted
that experiential techniques did not necessarily contribute to the
progress of those who seek transcendent states of consciousness
(Maslow, 1979). Another characteristic limitation he pointed to
was that, “Peaks come unexpectedly, suddenly they happen to' us.
You can’t count on them. And, hunting them is a little like hunting
happiness. It’s best not done directly” (Maslow, 1962, p. 4).

Although Maslow continued to regard the peak experience as a


transient glimpse of mystical states, he came to believe that the
cultivation of peak experiences can obstruct the manifestation of a
more enduring faculty of mystical awareness (Maslow, 1970).
Because the peak experience only provides a transient glimpse of
transcendence, rather than a sustained experience, and because

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 5


peak experiences are frequently fortuitous, Maslow argued that to
continuously seek after the excitement of peak experiences can
result in neglecting paths that lead to more sustained transcendent
experience—paths which demand “time, work, discipline, study,
[and] commitment” to attain (Maslow, 1970, p. xvi).

In his study of the nature of transcendent states of consciousness,


Maslow also found it desirable to introduce the notion of a state of
serenity—or relaxation and awareness of the present moment—as
a key element in the process of spiritual self-development (Kripp­
serenity ner, 1972; Maslow, 1970, 1979). In his last two years, Maslow
as a began to modify his view of optimal states of consciousness to
distinctive reflect that this new element of serenity is essential for a more
component lasting experience of transcendence to occur. Thus, in sharp con­
trast to the element of excitability so characteristic of the peak
experience, serenity became a distinctive component of what he
came to call the plateau experience.

Maslow intended to make a more comprehensive study of the


plateau experience as well as other, related experiences of tran­
scendence at a future date, stating that “there is much more to say
about these states” (Maslow, 1970, p. xvii). In The Farther
Reaches of Human Nature, he wrote: “This is a very brief anticipa­
tion of a more detailed study of ‘plateau experiences’ ... which I
hope to write soon” (Maslow, 1971, p. 348). Unfortunately,
Maslow succumbed before such a follow-up study could be real­
ized. A reconstruction of Maslow’s comments concerning the
plateau experience, in various sources, follows.

Maslow believed that if an investigation is to be valuable it must


touch on some “enduring human problem” (International Study
Project, 1972, p. 20). He claimed that individuals capable of hav­
ing transcendent experiences lived potentially fuller and healthier
lives than the majority of humanity because the former were able to
transcend everyday frustrations and conflicts and were less driven
by neurotic tendencies (Maslow, 1971). He also insisted that the
plateau experience was a transcendent state of consciousness at­
tainable by others, and offered encouragement to those who would
undertake to develop it: “If you’ve gone through this experience,
you can be more in the here and now than with all the spiritual
exercises there are. It’s just a kind of spontaneous exercise in
hanging on to the moment, because the moment is precious”
(Krippner, 1972, p. 119).

Maslow was sixty-two years old when he attended the Council


Grove conference in Council Grove, Kansas, April 13-17, 1970
(Krippner, 1972). Maslow died in June of 1970, only two months
after the conference took place. Perhaps he had intimations of his

6 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


own death at the time of the conference, for Maslow had known
since the December, 1968 heart attack that he was at high risk for
another, possibly fatal, one (Hoffman, 1988).

Peak versus Plateau Experiences

At the Council Grove conference, Maslow reported that one effect


of growing older was that peak experiences became less intense
and less frequent for him (Krippner, 1972, p. 113). From discus­
sions with other people his age, Maslow felt that they, too, experi­
enced a diminution of peak experiences, which led him to attribute
an important role to the aging process in the production of peak
experiences. Because he believed that peak experiences can pro­
duce turmoil in the autonomic nervous system, Maslow wondered
if his body could tolerate them further, and speculated that a
decrease in the frequency of peak experiences may be “nature’s
way of protecting the body” (Krippner, 1972, p. 113). Maslow had fewer
personal reason for concern: at this point in his life, the medical and
condition stemming from his heart attack required him to adopt a less-
curtailed lifestyle and activity level. Another reason Maslow sug­ intense
gested why fewer and less intense peak experiences occur with age peak
was that a sense of novelty and newness decreases with experience experiences
and aging (Krippner, 1972, p. 113).

Although the frequency of peak experiences may diminish with the


aging process, the plateau experience may be fostered. It has
certain characteristics of the peak experience, such as awe and
aesthetic perception. Although these elements are present in both
experiences, the plateau phenomenon allows a lengthier, though
less intense experience of them. Maslow compared the peak expe­
rience to a sexual orgasm, in which there is a progression of phases
from increasing energy and arousal to a peak and climax, to
decreasing energy and depletion. The peak experience’s ascent to a
lofty height, and subsequent descent, is not characteristic of the
plateau experience. Although less climactic, the plateau experience
has the capability of enduring longer.

Maslow also found that a plateau experience can be induced more


voluntarily than a peak experience, e.g., it might be induced by
going to an art museum or a meadow. Another difference was that,
unlike the peak experience which is often triggered fortuitously or
accidentally, access to the plateau experience could be taught.
Indeed, Maslow claimed it would be possible to “hold classes in
miraculousness” (Krippner, 1972, p. 114).

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 7


Witnessing

As his peak experiences became less frequent with age, and his
general level of emotional turbulence diminished, Maslow re­
ported that something else happened, which he described as a
“precipitation” (Krippner, 1972, p. 113) of insights gathered from
his life experiences. He described this quality as a compression of
many experiences, such as reading, listening to music, participat­
ing in conversation, and he defined it as “essentially cognitive”
(Krippner, 1972, p. 115). This cognitive quality also distinguishes
the plateau experience from the peak experience. For example,
unlike a peak experience, which can be felt to originate within the
individual, and is emotionally gripping, the plateau experience can
represent a witnessing of aspects of the environment' which are
external to oneself and a perception of previously unnoticed at­
tributes of the environment. Maslow believed that this cognitive
dimension of the plateau experience enables one to perceive the
world as miraculous because it liberates the perceiver from reduc­
accepting ing the world to the "concrete, ... to the behavioral, not limited
the only to the here and now. You know, if you get stuck in the here and
miraculous now, that’s a reduction" (Krippner, 1972, p. 115). To Maslow,
as accepting the miraculous as ordinary meant that one perceives “the
ordinary poignancy and the preciousness and the beauty of things, but not to
make a big deal out of it because it’s happening every hour, you
know, all the time” (Krippner, 1972, p. 114).

Mortality

Reflecting on his confrontation with death, Maslow referred twice


in his presentation to his life after surviving the heart attack as “the
post-mortem life.” Discussing his own heart attack experience, he
said: “My heart attack brought about a real confrontation with
death. Ever since then. I’ve been living what I’ve been calling to
myself ‘the post-mortem life.’ I’ve already gone through the pro­
cess of dying” (Krippner, 1972, p. 119). Maslow felt a sense of
gratitude for surviving his illness and thought that this feeling
continued to enhance the quality of his day-to-day experiences.

Later on in the Council Grove presentation, Maslow suggested that


his confrontation with death also had other effects. For example, he
reported that the experience of having a reprieve from death made
life afterwards appear much more vivid and precious. Maslow
explained this impression by using the ocean surf as a metaphor. He
contrasted the surfs eternal quality with the briefness of the human
lifespan, and suggested that this metaphor illustrates the witnessing
quality of the plateau experience which allows the simultaneous
perception of the eternal and the temporal. In his talk (described by

8 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Hoffman [1988] as moving to the audience) Maslow stated that his
reaction to the surf was of sadness in one sense, but appreciation in
another: “It seems to me that the surf is more beautiful to me now
than it used to be, and more touching.... In thinking of the surf, I
realize that I am mortal, and the surf is not” (Krippner, 1972,
p. 117). Thus, Maslow observed that although witnessing eternity
is a compelling and moving experience, it is also accompanied by a
fear of the witnessing because it reminds one of mortality. The
beauty of witnessing eternity has an inevitable mixture of both
happiness and sadness.

A member of the audience asked if, in order for a plateau experi­


ence to occur, one has to be unconcerned about whether or not one
is going to live or die in the next minute. He related an incident
about a visit to a nursing home whose residents were struggling
with the problem of facing death. This visit led him to conclude
that two directions could be taken in response to the problem of
managing one’s feelings about mortality: widening the scope of
one’s consciousness or narrowing it. Maslow responded only indi­
rectly, but the context of his remarks suggests that widening the
scope of one’s consciousness was the more desirable choice.

Maslow had stated that the plateau experience enables one to


accomplish this state of being “in the here and now” without
spiritual exercises, and that this state becomes easier to understand
when working with the dying. He mentioned his own heart attack
as an example of a confrontation with death, which was followed
not only by physical recovery, but by greater self-understanding
and a sense of expanded consciousness. Although the plateau a
experience is partly inspired by the knowledge of one’s own paradoxical
mortality—and this can be frightening—it also makes the experi­ experience
ence poignant:

The plateau experience is paradoxical because of the mixture of perma­


nence and mortality, you see. You feel sorry for yourself and sad over
the passingness of things, while at the very same moment you’re more
poignantly enjoying the things that other people ignore (Maslow, in
Krippner, 1972, p. 119).

Maslow speculated that if it were possible to give people an


experience of death, followed by a reprieve, they might enjoy life
more. Hoffman (1988) relates that Maslow was developing exer­
cises to facilitate experiencing the plateau state of consciousness.
One of these exercises, which Maslow mentioned in the presenta­
tion, was to look at a person one sees all the time, such as a spouse
or other family member or a friend, and “make believe that... he
or she is going to die soon” (Hoffman, 1988, p. 331).

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 9


Mysticism

There are many terms for mystical experience, such as cosmic


consciousness, kensho, oceanic feeling, nirvana, samadhi, satori,
and unitive consciousness, but these experiences have in common
the idea that truth can be reached through contemplative practices
or other means than conventional sense information. Also, mysti­
cal experiences typically imply an identification with nature or the
universe as a whole (Goldenson, 1984). Maslow explicitly com­
pared the plateau experience to mystical experiencing because of
the quality of witnessing. One of the terms he used to describe the
plateau experience was “unitive consciousness” (Krippner, 1972,
p. 113), a term also used to describe mystical experience.

Maslow considered the plateau experience to be “the way in which


the world looks if the mystic experience really takes” (Krippner,
1972, p. 115), and he characterized true mystical experiences as
having the quality of permitting one to go about one’s business as
usual, such as paying the bills or running a store or a monastery.
the Thus Maslow did not consider the practical and the mystical quali­
practical ties of the plateau experience to be inconsistent with each other;
and indeed, he drew attention to the mystics who went about their
the business after having mystical revelations.
mystical
Maslow also stated that a shifting of values about “what’s basic and
what’s not basic” (Krippner, 1972, p. 119) tends to follow a pla­
teau experience. He noted that these claims have been described in
many literatures of the world, and should not be considered eso­
teric or mysterious (Krippner, 1972, p. 115).

Serenity

Although Maslow described certain qualities of the plateau experi­


ence as miraculous, he considered the experience to retain a sense
of the ordinary. Despite a witnessing of attributes of the environ­
ment that had previously been unnoticed, the renewed vision can
be accepted casually. In this respect, Maslow compared the plateau
experience to the Zen experience: “There is nothing excepted—
and nothing special, but one lives in a world of miracles all the
time. There is a paradox because it is miraculous and yet it doesn’t
produce an autonomic burst” (Krippner, 1972, p. 113). Maslow’s
explicit comparison of plateau experiencing with Zen experiencing
implies he considered that serene feelings accompany perceptions
of miraculousness.

During his conference presentation at Council Grove, Maslow


emphasized the need to bring calmness into one’s psychological

10 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


state—that we need the serene as well as the poignantly emotional,
and he called attention to the plateau experience as an example of
serenity. He speculated that one day the plateau experience would
be observable, and hence measurable. He mentioned using psycho-
physiological instruments to measure it and thought that eventually
instrumentation would prove useful as a means to promote the
development of serenity. He was interested also in the possibility
of teaching the specific qualities of the plateau experience, such as
serenity, peacefulness, and calm.

Social Applications

By 1970, Maslow was having concerns about how some of his


theory and ideas were being understood. In the Preface to Reli­
gions, Values, and Peak Experiences (1970), he expressed his
concern that his thesis might lead to “over-extreme, dangerous, and
one-sided uses” of his ideas (p. xi). He warned that experiential
methods not tempered by intellect and by rationality can be harm­
ful. Maslow thought that his own research on the peak experience
had indirectly contributed to such a problem, and he explicitly
warned that progress should not be confused with any single
experience: “I wish to . . . correct the tendency of some to identify
experiences of transcendence as only dramatic, orgasmic, tran­
sient, ‘peaky,’ like a moment on the top of Mount Everest” (p. xvi).

Although he was emphatic about the possibility of progress


through the practice of spiritual disciplines, he felt that too many maturation
aspirants were trying to bypass the maturation and hard work and
necessary for authentic progress in self-understanding and self- hard
realization. He suggested that peak experience states are relevant to work
the transpersonal dimension, but that achieving a “life of transcen­
dence” tends to be a lifelong effort (Maslow, 1970, p. xvi).
Maslow cited the plateau experience as an example of a transcen­
dent life, and described it as a “high plateau, where one can stay
‘turned on’” (Maslow, 1970, p. xvi).

Comparing the plateau experience to the peak experience, Maslow


suggested that there is more of an element of surprise and of
disbelief in the peak experience, and more of the sense of having
such an experience for the first time. By contrast, the plateau
experience allows a lengthier experience of the qualities of surprise
and disbelief, although a less intense one. The less intense plateau
experience, Maslow suggested, is more often experienced as pure
enjoyment and happiness:

... as in a mother sitting quietly looking, by the hour, at her baby


playing, and marveling, wondering, philosophizing, not quite believ­

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 11


ing. She can experience this as a very pleasant, continuing, contempla­
tive experience rather than as something akin to a climactic explosion
which then ends (Maslow, 1970, p. xv).

Maslow also stated that one can learn to see in this way almost at
will; therefore, it is more voluntary than the peak experience. He
added that maturing and aging, which he believed foster plateau
experiencing, also entails some loss of first-timeness, novelty,
surprise, or sheer unpreparedness.

As in the Council Grove presentation, Maslow claimed in the


Preface to Religions, Values and Peak Experiences (1970) that the
plateau experience almost always has a noetic or cognitive element,
and that it “becomes a witnessing, an appreciating ... which can,
however, have a quality of casualness and of lounging about”
(p. xiv). The plateau experience differs from the peak experience in
this regard because it (the peak experience) does not always have a
cognitive component and can be exclusively emotional.

The Preface (1970) also suggested the metaphor of the surf as an


example of plateau experience witnessing because it allows a
the simultaneous perception of the eternal and the temporal. Older
metaphor people, making their peace with death, are more apt to be pro­
of foundly touched with sadness and tears at the contrast between
the their own mortality and the eternal quality of what sets off the
surf experience: Maslow described the contrast as a “sweet sadness”
(Maslow, 1970, p. xv). This contrast can make what is being
witnessed far more poignant and precious: “The surf will be here
forever and you will soon be gone. So hang on to it, appreciate it, be
fully conscious of it. Be grateful for it. You are lucky” (Maslow,
1970, p. xv).

The Effects of the “Post-mortem" Life

In his publications about the plateau experience, Maslow fre­


quently stated that wisdom and understanding separates the per­
ception of the adult from that of the child (Krippner, 1972;
Maslow, 1970). In an address given in March 1970 at the Univer­
sity of California, Los Angeles, he developed this theme further,
stating that the sophistication that lends richness to perception may
become more apparent as one grows older (International Study
Project, 1972). In his address, he stated:

What happens, then, as you grow older is (I have a name for everything)
called the plateau experience.... The illuminative aspects—the knowl­
edge aspects, the sacralizing of the world—now become very easy and
can be turned on and turned off just as I please. And this is a payoff of
a kind. If life goes well for you and if you use yourself well, you may

12 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


confidently expect to have a better and better subjective life the older
you get (p. 54).

Thus the rich cognitions engendered by the aging process may, for
some, add to the appreciation of one’s environment.

After returning from the hospital following his heart attack in


December of 1968, Maslow relied more on journal writings be­
cause his medical condition left him little energy for other activi­
ties (Hoffman, 1988). In a letter written to Anthony Sutich while he
was recuperating he said,

I’m coming along nicely, although so so slowly. I don’t have a hell of a


lot of energy yet, but enough for living the kind of life that I would want
to live even if I had a great deal of energy. I certainly have done a lot of
reading and writing—anyway in my journals (Sutich, 1976a, p. 176).

Maslow’s reference to living the kind of life he would want to live,


even if he had more energy, was interpreted by Sutich (1976a) as a a
beginning indication of Maslow’s views about the plateau experi­ link
ence (Krippner, 1972). Statements by Sutich (1976a) suggest that between
there may have been a link between Maslow’s “post-mortem” attitude
attitude and his selection of writing projects and writing style. and
writing
Hoffman (1988) states that prior to his heart attack Maslow had
frequently felt tom between writing in a rigorous, predominantly
scholarly and scientific fashion, and composing in a more informal
style of expression, as he had often done for some time. Given his
poor health, Maslow might have felt justified in continuing with an
informal composition style for that reason alone, but apparently he
felt justified on other grounds as well, i.e., his productivity and the
new perspective given him by his brush with mortality that engen­
dered the plateau experience.

In an interview with George Harris, the editor of Psychology


Today, Maslow described the effect of his “post-mortem” life on
his attitudes about working for the sake of future goals: “1 am living
an end-life where everything ought to be an end in itself, where I
shouldn’t waste any time preparing for the future, or occupying
myself with means to later ends” (Harris, 1970, p. 16). It appears
that he savored the days that followed his nearly fatal heart attack.
On a typical day at the Saga corporation office where he worked,
Maslow frequently visited colleagues for long conversations, dic­
tated notes for various works in progress, and departed for home
after lunch (Hoffman, 1988).

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 13


maslow’s methodological approach

Maslow’s plateau experience research differed from his previous


research on the peak experience—and perhaps from most of his
other research—in one conspicuous way: the plateau experience
syndrome Maslow described was apparently drawn almost entirely
from personal familiarity with the subject. This was a sharp con­
trast to his previous research on the peak experience in which he
had surveyed hundreds of people and produced a composite picture
of the peak experience. No one subject in the peak experience
studies necessarily reported the full constellation of peak experi­
ence characteristics, as Maslow (1968, 1971) pointed out. He
conceived of the research methodology on the peak experience as a
selecting, sharpening, and ordering of data into a composite pic­
ture. It consisted

... not so much in the usual gathering of specific and discrete facts as
in the slow development of a global or holistic impression of the sort
that we form of our friends and acquaintances. It was rarely possible to
set up a situation, to ask pointed questions, or to do any testing with my
older subjects ... Contacts were fortuitous and of the ordinary social
sort. Friends and relatives were questioned where this was possible
(Maslow, 1954, p. 203).

Maslow's By the time Maslow wrote about the plateau experience, however,
research he had ceased to conduct research even of this inductive variety,
methodologies although he was apparently interested in having more traditional
empirical data for the plateau experience collected by others
(Krippner. 1972).

Maslow's Post-mortem Life and Need Hierarchy Theory

Does death-awareness produce the transcendent, transpersonal, trans­


human? [3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1260).

Last night discussed it with Harry and tied it in with his father’s death,
my hospital “death” and what I’ve been calling my “post-mortem life.”
... Again, I thought of the possibility that whole SA [self-actualiza­
tion] syndrome might be simply a reconciliation with death [7/16/1969]
(Maslow, 1979, p. 923).

I still wonder that maybe what I’ve called SA has reconciliation with
mortality as a sine qua non [3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1260).

The inner core of human nature, Maslow (1970) argued, consists of


urges and instinct-like propensities that create basic needs within
each person. If these basic needs are not fulfilled, frustration and
sickness result. The first and most basic needs are physiological
and are related to survival. If the physiological needs are not

14 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


satisfied, all other needs are temporarily pushed aside. Once basic
physiological needs are fulfilled, higher needs can emerge.

The quality of awareness changes with fulfillment of lower needs.


When lower needs are not met and a deficit threatens, an “emer­
gency apparatus goes into action” ordinarily [3/28/1970] (Maslow,
1979, p. 1261). If the deficits are not fulfilled, they exert a negative
influence so that higher needs cease to be felt.

The fulfillment of lower needs, on the other hand, allows one to


turn attention away from unfulfilled lower needs toward a peaceful
and detached consideration of one’s environment, which Maslow
considered a necessary attribute of self-actualization (Maslow,
1968).

Because self-actualizing people ordinarily do not have to abstract need-


gratifying qualities nor sec the person as a tool, it is much more possible
for them to take a non-valuing, non-judging, non-interfering, non­
condemning attitude toward others, a desirelessness, a “choiceless
awareness.” This permits much clearer and insightful perception and
understanding of what is there (p. 41).

Fulfillment of needs and accompanying changes in the quality of


awareness were primary assumptions of Maslow’s theory.

As Maslow (1979) noted, however, his experience of a post­


mortem life was difficult to reconcile with these assumptions. The needs
first level of Maslow’s need hierarchy scale posited survival as the and
most prepotent human need, yet a threat to Maslow’s own survival quality
had apparently engendered a higher awareness in the form of his of
post-mortem life. Survival of a near fatal coronary attack had awareness
generated experiences of gratitude for the present moment, and
even imbued each moment with a sense of miraculousness. Mas­
low characterized this quality of miraculousness as essential to
plateau experience awareness (Krippner, 1972). In short, Maslow
considered that an enhanced capacity for awareness was available
to him rather than a diminished one—despite a threat to his sur­
vival and a sharply curtailed life expectancy.

Maslow speculated about this apparent theoretical paradox, com­


menting that he found the capacity to enjoy his post-mortem life
“puzzling” [3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1261). The specific
assumption that Maslow had come to question was that transcen­
dent states can occur only after lower hierarchy needs are satisfied.
More recently, critics such as Daniels (1988) and Rowan (1987)
have also questioned this assumption.

Maslow had modified his need hierarchy theory to make a place for
transcendent states of awareness at the top of the need hierarchy

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 15


roughly two years before the occurrence of his heart attack, al­
though his interest in transcendent states of consciousness had been
evident much earlier (Hoffman, 1988). During this reformulation
of his need hierarchy theory two years before his coronary attack,
Maslow changed the theory to include at its topmost rank the need
for transcendence. Before discussing Maslow’s reexamination of
his theory subsequent to his post-mortem life experience, it will be
useful to describe the place for transcendent experience he made in
his need hierarchy theory two years earlier.

In Maslow’s need hierarchy theory, after the most primary need of


physiological survival is fulfilled, additional needs of security,
affiliation, and self-esteem arise. At the top of the hierarchy,
Maslow placed the need for self-actualization, or actualization of
one’s full potential.

In ascending this hierarchy, motivations shift from strong to subtle


and from expressions of deficiency to expressions of sufficiency.
At the top of the hierarchy, a desire for self-actualization arises
with the emergence of a need to know, to satisfy one’s curiosity, to
understand the perplexities of life and a need for meaningful work,
for responsibility, for creativity, and for appreciation of beauty
(Maslow, 1987).

Roughly two years before his heart attack, Maslow indicated that
transcendence another need beyond these needs exists, one centered on experi­
of ence of what he designated as transcendent states of consciousness
one's (Maslow, 1971). The desire to transcend one’s nature was as much
nature an aspect of human nature as lower needs, and the denial of this
as a ultimate need might be as harmful as the denial of one’s lower
need needs (Maslow, 1971).

Psychic Economy of Scarcity

Maslow considered that for most individuals a threat of depriva­


tion is keenly felt. “For most people, happiness is a state of
striving for and hoping for something that is now lacking = the
psychic economy of scarcity” [3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p.
1261). The term “psychic economy of scarcity” was used by
Maslow to describe the motivation to fulfill needs of survival,
security, affiliation, and self-esteem, i.e., needs below the level of
self-actualization.

Psychic Economy of Plenty

As a life condition posing a threat of ultimate deprivation, Mas­


low’s post-mortem life apparently fit the category of a psychic

16 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


economy of scarcity. As described previously, Maslow’s acknowl­
edgment of his post-mortem life, however, had caused him to
doubt whether a “psychic economy of scarcity” accounted for the
frame of mind occasioned by his post-mortem life, since a sense of
the preciousness of every experience had emerged for him rather
than a sense of striving. He therefore reasoned that enhanced
consciousness can also result from scarcity or deprivation if certain
psychological conditions are present (Maslow, 1979). He coined a
new phrase, “psychic economy of plenty” [3/28/1970] (Maslow,
1979, p. 1261), to describe how a state of enhanced consciousness enhanced
could occur despite a threat to survival. consciousness
and a
[The] phrase for SA [self-actualization]... is the psychic economy of threat
plenty. That’s weird—that I should be enabled to perceive, accept, & to
enjoy the eternity & preciousness of the non-me world just because I survival
became aware of my own mortality [3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979,
p. 1261).

Maslow speculated that this concept of a psychic economy of


plenty could be a modification of his theory of self-actualization:

Maybe self-actualization ... is an economy of surplus and of plenty in


contrast with the scarcity-economy of the psyche of most people....
How to relate it [post-mortem life] to the psychic economies of surplus
wealth on the one hand and scarcity on the other? [3/28/1970] (Maslow,
1979, p. 1261).

Transcendence and Self-Actualization

Maslow labeled needs at the level of self-actualization, as higher


needs (Maslow, 1971). Self-actualizers are generally motivated
more by these higher needs, e.g., for creativity, appreciation of
beauty, transcendence (Maslow, 1971). In these higher needs,
Maslow saw a drive for modes of experiencing and being that
differed in character as well as rank from lower need motivations
(Maslow, 1971, 1979). In extreme cases, he speculated, a higher
need might become the prime motivation for a self-actualized
individual, superseding the more common egocentric desires for
self-esteem, possessions, etc. (Maslow, 1971). In making a place
for transcendence within this topmost rank of his need hierarchy
theory (Maslow, 1971), Maslow posited that a specific type of self­
actualized individual with strong motivation could pursue tran­
scendent experience.

The second issue of the Journal of Transpersonal Psychology


included an article by Maslow entitled “Theory Z” (1969), in which
he delineated twenty-four differences between self-actualized indi­
viduals who are capable of transcendent experience and self-actual­
ized individuals who are not capable of transcendent experience.

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 17


In the character of self-actualized individuals striving for transcen­
dence, Maslow believed that he observed a drive for modes of
experiencing that was no longer subtle and easily repressed, as had
been the case when lower needs were dominant, and before a need
for transcendent experience had found fall expression. For these
individuals a need for transcendent states might supersede lower
need motivations (Maslow, 1971).

He also speculated that if these individuals had had their lower


needs met at some point in the past, their higher needs might be
more likely to function independently of their lower needs. He
reasoned that these individuals would differ from those who had
never had their lower needs met, and that they would view the
threat of a deficit, even a deficit associated with survival, with
more equanimity (Maslow, 1971,1979). Despite threats to security
they would still behave as though transcendence was their most
important motivation. In Maslow’s psychic economy terms, these
individuals benefitted from a psychic economy of plenty rather
than a psychic economy of scarcity, even though their environ­
two ments might pose a threat of scarcity. In short, Maslow speculated
pre-conditions that perhaps two conditions must be satisfied for transcendence to
for occur: first, having a primary motivation toward transcendent
transcendence experience, and second, having had lower needs met, at least prior
to the onset of a low need emergency.

In answer to the question he raised in his journals: “Does death-


awareness produce the transcendent, transpersonal, transhuman?”
[3/28/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1261) Maslow’s answer was there­
fore apparently affirmative—but only for those already self-actual-
ized and strongly motivated toward transcendent experiencing.

It also appears that Maslow may have considered himself among


the latter:

I wonder what would happen to my whole psychology and philosophy


if I were in a concentration camp or were doomed to die soon. I don’t
think my report of the world would change much.... As a matter of
fact, I am doomed to die—maybe soon—what with the possibility of
heart surgery. Or without collateral circulation, a heart attack would
very likely kill me. So what does this have to do with my report on
human nature? Might not one person, even with very bad luck, recog­
nize the beauty of life for others than himself? Yes, I think so [2/25/
1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1238).

Since his treatment of the issue was speculative, and appeared only
in his journal entries, it is difficult to know if Maslow intended to
add the psychic economy vocabulary to tenets of his need hierarchy
theory more formally. Whatever his exact intentions, the journal
speculations describe some preconditions Maslow considered nec­
essary for a sustained experience of transcendence.

18 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Miraculousness and the Post-Mortem Life

Maslow’s label for his post-coronary life—post-mortem life—was


intended to convey the feeling of temporariness that was so charac­
teristic during this period of his life (Krippner, 1972). To Maslow,
any life after his heart attack was valuable (Harris, 1970, p. 16).

He addressed this mixture of temporariness and appreciativeness


explicitly at the Council Grove conference when he said: “You feel
sorry for yourself and sad over the passingness of things, while at
the very same moment you’re more poignantly enjoying the things
that other people ignore” (Krippner, 1972, p. 119).

The mixture of appreciativeness and sadness also figured in the


description of his attitude toward living with a sense of temporari­
ness that he gave in one of his last public interviews, in February of
1970:

One very important aspect of the post-mortem life is that everything


gets doubly precious, gets piercingly important. You get stabbed by a
things, by flowers and by babies and by beautiful things—just the very sense
act of living, of walking and breathing and eating and having friends
of
and chatting. Everything seems to look more beautiful rather than less,
temporariness
and one gets the much-intensified sense of miracles (Harris, 1970,
p. 16).

Maslow apparently maintained his sense of miraculousness and


special appreciation until his death.

CONCLUSION

Distressed by the societal problems emerging from the turmoil of


the late 1960s and by what he perceived as a widening pattern of
human aggression in world affairs, Maslow believed that humanis­
tically oriented social sciences were vital to a coherent and effec­
tive approach to ameliorating societal problems (Maslow, 1969a).
His journals reflect that he had felt an urgency about this task
before his heart attack:

I was saying to someone who chided me . .. for having worked so hard


[before the heart attack], and I asked him in turn “Supposing you had
discovered a cure for cancer? Would you fuss about your body or about
personal danger, or about your heart?” [6/22/1969] (Maslow, 1979, p.
921).

Hoffman (1988) notes that some of Maslow’s closest friends felt


that perhaps his one personal flaw was a sense of grandiosity,
which sometimes took expression as a sense of great personal
mission to change the human condition. Hoffman (1988) quoted

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 19


Maslow’s friend, Frank Manuel, in this regard, who recalled that
Maslow “had a messiah complex, but he never sought to impose it
on others” (in Hoffman, 1988, p. 211). The following private
reflection by Maslow was written after his near fatal coronary
attack:

The work seems to go on right through periods of unhappiness. Maybe


even more of it, because then I cut out movies, visits, auto driving,
picnics, etc. The only recourse then, in my sadness, is to plunge into
work even more. Have more or less given up novels, science fiction,
working with students, non-professional reading of any kind; have
given up newspaper subscription [for] ... a couple of months, TV,
political reading to the extent that I can force myself to. Less schmooz­
ing with local friends and acquaintances. Practically no music, no
plays, less and less museums. My walks are very business like and
efficient, although 1 may yet do Audubon walks again in the fall (not
sure). I turn more and more into my thinking and writing, using reading
almost entirely as stimulus to thinking and writing (including files and
journals), more away from the world, especially when home life makes
me unhappy, more and more a thinking and writing machine [8/13/
1969] (Maslow, 1979, p. 924).

an Maslow’s reflection on his work habits was written relatively early


apparent in his “post-mortem” life period. His views apparently changed
change afterward; in his public statements during the latter part of his
of “post-mortem” period (i.e., the last few months of his life), he
view stated publicly on several occasions that he no longer felt the
enormous sense of responsibility he had felt previously.

Commenting on Maslow’s post-mortem life period Anthony


Sutich—Maslow’s close friend and collaborator in establishing the
fields of both humanistic psychology and transpersonal psychol­
ogy—noted that Maslow had frequently mentioned that he felt
little further need for communicating the message of psychology’s
relevance to societal issues (Sutich, 1976a). And in one of his last
public interviews Maslow also indicated a lack of desire for pro­
moting this message (Harris, 1970). Speaking about the effects of
his acute awareness of his mortality on his decision to de-empha-
size the professional aspects of his life, Maslow stated:

I had really spent myself. This was the best I could do, and here was not
only a good time to die but I was even willing to die.... It was what
David M. Levy called the “completion of the act.” It was like a good
ending, a good close. I think actors and dramatists have that sense of the
right moment for a good ending, with a phenomenological sense of
good completion—that there was nothing more you could add....
Partly this was entirely personal and internal and just a matter of
feeling good about myself (Harris, 1970, p. 16).

Maslow gave talks to audiences in the last few months of his life,
but here, too, he was apparently less driven by a sense of personal

20 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


responsibility for solving difficult and perplexing issues than had
been the case before his near fatal coronary attack. Maslow spoke
candidly in his journals of deliberately putting down the burden of
being an authority:

I realized after all these lectures [lectures given in Antioch, Columbus,


Palo Alto, and Council Grove]—some to large crowds—that I could be
casual and easy about them and didn’t get tensed up as I did over the
precoronary lectures in San Francisco. My analysis is that I felt the
great weight of responsibility and authority on my shoulders, of being
pontifical, of responding with tension to the almost-adoration, poems
written for me, to the submissiveness and dependence. I had to weigh
my words so goddamn carefully—and felt the responsibility of being
the authority so heavily that it threw me into tension and exhaustion.
Like the old business of being expected confidently to hit a home run
every time at bat, to produce revelations, peak experiences, conver­
sions, to be a Messiah—and then of course the whole thing introjected
so that I got to feel the necessity of hitting a home run each time I
opened my mouth, of every single time having the biggest ejaculation
in the world—in a word, of performing up to their expectations, of
living up to their image. This was made worse when the adoration was
greater,. .. the fee higher, the crowd larger, the expectations greater.

But apparently now that I've become "post-mortem” and also can take
more casually being the authority and not let it get me, I seem able to be
as relaxed before a crowd as before some friends. I don’t have to try to
be perfect, Messianic, or weighty. I can be casual and improvise. It
works well [4/29/1970] (Maslow, 1979, p. 1305-06).

It is likely that one reason for this shift could have been his growing
concern about his health. His physician was not alone in offering
him advice: a number of journal entries indicate that Maslow’s
friends and acquaintances had offered similar suggestions.

Another reason that Maslow’s sense of personal responsibility for others


societal problems might have changed was that he hoped others to
would take up the burden by continuing his work. He wrote in his take
journals that if he lived long enough he would structure his work up
more systematically for those who would take it up, but he appar­ the
ently felt secure that his work would survive even if he did not live burden
much longer. Maslow even felt pleased with his level of productiv­
ity and thought that his informal style had been good enough to
accomplish the limited goal of leaving a record for others to work
with:

If I live long enough. I’ll structure them [notes on various topics] into a
system of human nature and society. But if I don’t, others will for sure,
even though I don’t know when. I don’t know of any young man myself
who is that good and capable, that perceptive and committed. But he or
they now exist, I’m sure. Perhaps they’re 18 years old, or 10, or 25. But
they’re there someplace. And they’ll get the point.... So I’ll consider

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 21


my major duty done and be content to be a preparer, a forerunner, and
relax and loaf as soon as I get strong enough to travel [6/22/1969]
(Maslow, 1979, p. 922).

It is apparent from journal entries and public statements made


during the latter part of his post-mortem life that his changing
views about the value of serenity influenced his conclusions about
the plateau experience and prompted him to offer it as an alternate
experience to the peak experience. His writings during this period
of his life show that Maslow regarded a state of serenity, of
relaxation, and awareness of the present moment as a key to
a spiritual self-development (Krippner, 1972; Maslow. 1970a, 1979).
key
to Whatever changes prompted his increased valuing of serenity
spiritual during the post-mortem life, this change also corresponded appar­
self-development ently with a sharpened perception of transcendent aspects of exist­
ence (Krippner, 1972; Maslow, 1979).4 Our impression is that in
the journal entries of this period Maslow tugged at the ideas of his
previous work and tried to get them to emerge more clearly in the
light of his knowledge about transcendent experience. His journal
entries seem to reflect an internal dialog about the dynamics of
transcendent experience. Unfortunately, he did not have the neces­
sary time to accomplish his next goal of providing a systematic
restructuring of his work in the realm of transpersonal psychology.
At his death, however, this new field of inquiry had been launched
and others were already carrying forward its exploration and devel­
opment.

NOTES

1Unless otherwise noted, biographical details of this period in Maslow's life have

been drawn from Edward Hoffman's biography of Maslow. The Right to Be Human
(1988). Hoffman’s biography is the most comprehensive available.

2Just
a few months prior to his heart attack, Maslow had been elected President of the
American Psychological Association, a singular honor in his profession.

3The first mention of the plateau experience is contained in a personal journal entry

dated April 16th, 1969 (Maslow', 1979). The first published mention of the plateau
experience was a very brief reference to it in an article published by Maslow (1969a)
in the Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. Maslow gave a public presentation on
the topic at the University of California, Los Angeles, in March of 1970 (Interna­
tional Study Project, 1972). The first thorough exposition of the idea was not
realized until April, 1970, when Maslow addressed a conference on the plateau
experience (Krippner, 1972).

4Maslow’s medical condition manifested physical symptoms, e.g., frequent chest


pains, that occurred over a prolonged period of time and served as reminders to him
of his mortality, as he himself reported (Maslow, 1979). The possibility that a
medical condition such as Maslow’s might influence a spiritual transformation has
received little attention in the transpersonal psychology literature.

22 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


REFERENCES

Daniels. M. (1988). The myth of self-actualization. Journal of Humanistic


Psychology, 25(1), 7-38.
Goldenson, R.M. (Ed.) (1984). Longman’s dictionary of psychology and
psychiatry. New York: Longman’s.
Harris, T.G. (Ed.) (1970, August). Editorial: Abe Maslow—(1908-1970).
Psychology Today, p. 16.
Hoffman, E. (1988). The right to be human: A biography of Abraham
Maslow. Los Angeles: Tarcher.
Hoffman, E. (1992). Visions of innocence: Spiritual and inspirational
experiences of childhood. Boston: Shambhala.
International Study Project. (1972). Abraham II. Maslow: A memorial
volume (B.G. Maslow, Comp.). Monterey, CA: Brooks/Cole.
Krippner, S. (1972). The plateau experience: A.H. Maslow and others.
Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 4, 107-20.
Maslow, A.H. (1962). Lessons from the peak experiences. Journal of
Humanistic Psychology, 2(1), 9-18.
Maslow, A.H. (1968). Toward a psychology ofbeing (2nd ed.). New York:
Van Nostrand/Reinhold.
Maslow, A.H. (1969). Theory Z. Journal of Transpersonal Psychology,
7(2), 31-47.
Maslow, A.H. (1970). Religions, values, and peak experiences. New
York: Viking Press. (Paperback reissue of 1964 edition; preface added
in 1970).
Maslow, A.H. (1971). The farther reaches of human nature. New York:
Viking Press.
Maslow, A.H. (1979). The journals of Abraham Maslow (2 Vols.. R.J.
Lowry, Ed.). Monterey, CA: Brooks/Cole.
Maslow, A.H. (1987). Motivation and personality (3rd ed.) (R. Frager, J.
Fadiman, C. McReynolds & R. Cox. Eds.). New York: Harper & Row.
Shapiro, S.I. (1994). Religion, spirituality, and transpersonal psychology.
International Journal of Transpersonal Studies, 13(1), 33-41.
Roberts, T. (1978). Beyond self-actualization. ReVision, /(l), 42-46.
Rowan, J. (1987). Nine humanistic heresies. Journal of Humanistic Psy­
chology. 27(2), 141-57.
Sutich, A.J. (1976a). The founding of humanistic and transpersonal psy­
chology: A personal account. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, Hu­
manistic Psychology Institute, San Francisco, CA.
Sutich, A.J. (1976b). The emergence of the transpersonal orientation: A
personal account. Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, S{ 1), 7.
Walsh, R. & Vaughan, F. (Eds.) (1980). The emergence of the transper­
sonal perspective. In R. Walsh & F. Vaughan (Eds.), Beyond ego:
Transpersonal dimensions in psychology (pp. 15-24). Los Angeles:
Tarcher.

Requests for reprints to: Tom S. Cleary, 23831 Berdon Street, Woodland Hills, CA
91367.

The Plateau Experience and the Post-Mortem Life 23


PHENOMENOLOGICAL MAPPING:
A METHOD FOR DESCRIBING AND
COMPARING STATES OF
CONSCIOUSNESS

Roger Walsh
Irvine, California

INTRODUCTION

States of consciousness have long been a central concern of trans­


personal psychology. Indeed, the field arose out of the recognition
of a family of transpersonal states in which the sense of self
expanded beyond (trans) the individual person or personality to
encompass wider aspects of life and the cosmos. Such experiences
have been highly valued across cultures and centuries—our own
being a notable exception—and some have even been regarded as experiences
the summunt bonum, the highest good and highest goal of exist­ highly
ence. valued
across
The prevalence and importance of altered states of consciousness cultures
(ASCs) may be gathered from Bourguignon’s (1973, p. 11) finding and
that some 90% of cultures have institutionalized forms of them. centuries
She concluded that this is “a striking finding and suggests that we
are, indeed, dealing with a matter of major importance, not merely
a bit of anthropological esoterica.”

One of the early assumptions that was often made about altered
state inducing practices was that they exhibited equifinality. That
is, many authors, including this one, mistakenly assumed that
differing techniques such as various meditations, contemplations,

The author wishes to thank the American Academy of Religion and Jeremy Tarcher
for permission to use the article and books that they have published as a basis for the
present article. Thanks also to Bonnie L’Allier for her secretarial assistance and to
the many people who provided feedback and suggestions during the preparation of
this material.

Copyright © 1995 Transpersonal Institute

The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1 25


and yogas necessarily resulted in equivalent states of conscious­
ness. This largely reflected our ignorance of the broad range of
possible ASCs that can be deliberately cultivated (Goleman, 1988).

For example, consider the varieties of ASC that have been identi­
fied in Indian meditative and yogic practices alone. These include
highly concentrated states such as the yogic samadhis or Buddhist
jhanas; witness-consciousness states in which equanimity is so
strong that stimuli have little or no effect on the observer; and states
where extremely refined inner stimuli become the objects of atten­
tion such as the faint inner sounds of shahd yoga or the subtle
pseudonirvanic bliss of Buddhist vipassana meditation (Goldstein,
1983; Goleman, 1988). Then too there are unitive states in which
the sense of separation between self and world dissolves; there are
others in which all objects of phenomena disappear such as in
Buddhist nirvana or Vedantic nirvikalpa samadhi; and states in
which all phenomena are perceived as expressions or modifica­
tions of consciousness, e.g. sahaj samadhi (Wilber, 1980, 1995;
Free John, 1985). Of course this is not to deny that certain states
may display significant functional and experiential commonalities.

Asian meditative and yogic states are now recognized as distinct


states sui generis that may exhibit a variety of unique phenomeno­
distinct logical, perceptual, electrophysiological, and hormonal changes
states (Shapiro, 1980; Shapiro & Walsh, 1984; Wilber, Engler & Brown,
sui 1986; Goleman, 1988). Until relatively recently, however, these
generis Asian meditative and yogic states were often regarded as patho­
logical and their practitioners were regarded as neurotic at best or
psychotic at worst (Group for the Advancement of Psychiatry,
1976). Thus one textbook of psychiatry concluded that

The obvious similarities between schizophrenic regressions and the


practices of yoga and Zen merely indicate that the general trend in
oriental cultures is to withdraw into the self from an overbearingly
difficult physical and social reality (Alexander & Selesnich, 1966, p.
457).

The reasons for this long history of the conflation and patholo-
gizing of religious states are probably several. Most notably,
Western psychology, philosophy, and culture are predominantly
monophasic, meaning that their world view is drawn almost exclu­
sively from only one state of consciousness, namely the usual
waking state. This contrasts with many other cultures and disci­
plines, e.g., Vedantic philosophy, Buddhist Abhidharma psychol­
ogy, and Jewish Kabbalah which are polyphasic, i.e., drawing their
worldview from multiple states including contemplative and
dream states (Laughlin et al., 1992, 1993). A major goal of trans­
personal psychology has been to move our culture and psychology
from monophasic to polyphasic.

26 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995, Vol. 2 7, No. 1


One cause and effect of the prevailing Western monophasia has
been a general bias against accepting the very existence of certain
altered states; witness the nineteenth-century surgeons who ob­
served apparently painless amputations performed under hypnosis
and concluded that the subjects had been bribed to pretend they felt
no pain (Tart, 1986). Related to this is the limited range of Western
categories for states other than waking, sleeping, and pathological
ones.

This limitation doubtless plays a role in the widely observed bias in


clinical psychiatry and psychology to pathologize unusual experi­
ences (Jung, 1957; Maslow, 1968; Noll, 1983). This bias can be
particularly important in cross-cultural studies because “anthro­
pologists sometimes fail to distinguish clinic and culture” (Opler,
1961). Related to this is what Michael Hamer (1990) calls “cogni- "cognicentrism ”
centrism,” the tendency to assume that one’s own usual state is
optimal.

A final reason for the conflation and pathologizing of religious


ASCs is that most researchers have had little direct experience of
the states they investigate. Yet classical descriptions, psychologi­
cal and philosophical arguments (Tart, 1983; Walsh, 1989d), and
personal reports by Western trained researchers who have experi­
enced altered states (e.g. Globus, 1993; Hamer, 1990; Tart. 1986,
Ram Dass, 1990) suggest that it may be difficult to fully compre­
hend and differentiate alternate states without direct experience of
them.

However a number of phenomenological, clinical, psychometric,


physiological, chemical, and theoretical comparisons have indi­
cated significant differences between meditative-yogic states on
the one hand and those of psychological disturbances, including
schizophrenia, on the other (Kornfleld, 1979; Shapiro, 1980;
Walsh, 1980; Wilber, 1983; Wilber, Engler & Brown, 1986).
Indeed, several hundred studies now attest to potential therapeutic
benefits of these practices (Shapiro, 1980; Shapiro & Walsh, 1984;
Murphy & Donovan, 1989) and, as Ken Wilber (1980, p. 78)
concluded, meditative-yogic states and pathological states “can be
seriously equated only by those whose intellectual inquiry goes no
further than superficial impressions.”

So Western academic evaluations of the alternate states of con­


sciousness induced by Asian meditative and yogic disciplines have
undergone a marked shift. Many initial evaluations assumed that
they were pathological and regressive whereas more recent assess­
ments have acknowledged their uniqueness and potential benefits.
The purpose of this paper is 1) to examine whether a similar
reevaluation may be appropriate for another tradition for which
altered states appear to be central, namely shamanism, 2) to em­

Phenomenological Mapping 27
ploy a new phenomenological approach that allows more precise,
multidimensional description, mapping, and comparison of states
of consciousness, 3) to map shamanic states, 4) to then compare
shamanistic states with other states which some authors have
claimed are identical, 5) to point out the possibilities of this new
phenomenological method for comparing states a) across disci­
plines, b) within a given discipline, and c) during maturation of a
particular practice.

Defining Shamanism

Shamanism is now going through a period of surprising popularity


in the West, and shamanic workshops and books are multiplying
rapidly. At the same time there is a growing appreciation of the
centrality of alternate states of consciousness in shamanism. In­
deed the definition of shamanism seems to be changing to reflect
this appreciation.

Early definitions of shamanism focussed on the shaman’s ability to


contact and control “spirits.” Thus Shirokogoroff (1935, p. 269)
claimed that the term “shaman” refers to “persons of both sexes
who have mastered spirits, who at their will can introduce these
spirits into themselves and use their power over the spirits in their
own interests, particularly helping other people, who suffer from
the spirits.”

However, contemporary anthropologists seem less impressed by


broad the importance of spirits than by the altered states in which they are
and experienced and definitions seem to have shifted accordingly to
narrow focus on these states (Walsh, 1990; Nipinsky-Naxon, 1993).
definitions Within this definitional class there are broad and narrow defini­
tions. Broad definitions such as those of Peters and Price-Williams
(1980, p. 408) stipulate that the “only defining attribute is that the
specialist enter into a controlled ASC on behalf of his community.”
Narrow definitions on the other hand stipulate a specific category
of ASCs, most often states in which shamanic journeying or soul
flight occurs (Eliade, 1964; Noll, 1983; Walsh, 1989a, 1990), and
Michael Hamer (1990) has attempted to describe and define sha­
manism in terms of a single specific state.

The definition used here is a narrow one. Shamanism is defined as


a family of traditions whose practitioners focus on voluntarily
entering altered states of consciousness in which they experience
themselves, or their “spirit(s),” traveling to other realms at will,
and interacting with other entities in order to serve their communities.

While no single definition will satisfy all researchers, this one has
several advantages. First, it describes a group of practitioners that

28 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


almost all researchers would view as shamans. Second, because of
its specificity and narrowness, the definition is able to differentiate
this tradition from other traditions and practices, e.g., mediums,
priests, and medicine men, as well as from various psychopath­
ologies, with which shamanism has been confused (Walsh, 1990).

SHAMANIC EXPERIENCES

Interpretations

While there is now greater interest in shamanic ASCs and a begin­


ning appreciation that they may be specific, it is still commonly
assumed in both anthropology and psychology that shamanic states
and those who experience them arc pathological (Kakar, 1982;
Noll, 1983). Indeed, the “experience of the shaman has been
likened to almost every psychopathology” (Peters & Price-Will-
iams, 1980, p. 394). The shaman has been called, among other
things, mentally deranged, an outright psychotic, a veritable idiot,
a charlatan, epileptic, and, perhaps most often, an hysteric or pathological
schizophrenic (e.g. Devereux, 1961; Wissler, 1931; Radim, 1972). and
popular
On the other hand an opposite but equally extreme view seems to comparisons
be emerging in the popular literature. Here shamanic states are
being identified with those of Buddhism, yoga or Christian mysti­
cism. Thus, for example Holger Kalweit (1988, p. 236) claims that
the shaman “experiences existential unity—the samadhi of the
Hindus or what Western spiritualists and mystics call enlighten­
ment, illumination, unio mystica" Likewise Gary Doore (1988, p.
223) claims that “shamans, yogis and Buddhists alike are accessing
the same state of consciousness.”

Unfortunately there seem to be serious deficiencies with these


comparisons. Almost universally they appear to be based on gross
similarities rather than on careful phenomenological mapping and
comparison (Walsh, 1990).

One significant and important exception is the work of Richard


Noll (1983). Noll did a careful phenomenological comparison
between shamanic journey states as described in the traditional
literature and the states of schizophrenics as documented in the
American Psychiatric Association’s (1980) Diagnostic and Statis­
tical Manual of Mental Disorders. Noll was able to demonstrate,
contrary to decades of assumptions, that there are clear phenom­
enological differences between schizophrenic and shamanic expe­
riences and that the two could not be regarded as identical.

For example, Noll demonstrated major differences on the dimen­


sion of control. He pointed out that shamans are generally able to

Phenomenological Mapping 29
induce and terminate their ASCs at will and modulate their experi­
ences to some extent, while schizophrenics are almost entirely
helpless victims of their states and experiences. As will be shown
later, comparisons on several other phenomenological dimensions
also demonstrate significant differences.

Of course it must be noted that Noll focussed on shamanic journey


states and not on the earlier life period of the shamanic initial call
which may sometimes constitute a major life crisis with consider­
able bizarre behavior (Eliade, 1964; Grof & Grof, 1989). Conse­
quently Noll’s data does not fully rule out the possibility that
shamans may once have been disturbed or even schizophrenic but
subsequently recovered.

However to Noll’s comparisons can be added several other obser­


vations. The first is that the clinical picture of the initial crisis
suggests significant differences from schizophrenia (Grof & Grof,
1986, 1989; Walsh, 1990). The second is that the shaman is said to
often function as one of the most effective members of the tribe,
displaying superior energy, concentration, memory, knowledge,
and leadership (Eliade, 1964; Hamer, 1990; Reichel-Dolmatoff,
1987; Rogers, 1982), qualities that are hardly consistent with the
chronic deterioration common in schizophrenia. Taken together,
these facts constitute a strong argument against the facile equation
of shamanism and schizophrenia.

Noll’s work points to new possibilities and standards for diagnostic


new and comparative assessment of shamanic states. Henceforth it will
possibilities no longer be adequate simply to conclude on the basis of superfi­
and cial similarities that shamanic states of consciousness are equiva­
standards lent to other states such as those found in cither various forms of
pathology or in other traditions such as Buddhism or yoga. Rather
what will be necessary is a careful multidimensional mapping of
shamanic states of consciousness and then an equally careful mul­
tidimensional comparison of these states with those of other popu­
lations. After all, as Huston Smith (1987, p. 558) pointed out,
“Claims for similarities or differences spin their wheels until they
get down to ways and degrees in which things differ or are alike.”

This article aims to expand Noll’s work by providing a more


detailed (yet still preliminary) multidimensional, phenomenologi­
cal map of shamanic states of consciousness and comparing this
with the pathological states of schizophrenia on one hand and with
the meditative states of Buddhism and yoga on the other. What will
becomc apparent is that all these states show significant differ­
ences and that equating them can no longer be justified. Henceforth
each type must be regarded as a distinct class of states which differ
on multiple significant dimensions.

30 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


The Varieties of Shamanic States of Consciousness

In making these comparisons it is important to acknowledge that


there is not one single state of consciousness that is invariably
sought and used in shamanism but many. Shamans may induce
altered states by a variety of means including fasting, solitude,
dancing, drumming, and drugs (Hamer, 1973, 1982; Dobkin de
Rios & Winkleman, 1989; Walsh, 1989b). Major classes of
shamanic altered states include possession, drug and journey
states. Shamanic possession states refer to states in which the
shaman’s consciousness is experienced as being taken over to
varying degrees by an ego-alien entity, usually believed to be a
spirit. For discussions of shamanic possession states, see Peters
and Price-Williams (1980) and Walsh (1990).

Drug states encompass a remarkably wide variety of states. For


discussion of the varieties of drugs used, see Ott (1993); for the
families of drug states and their classification, see Grof (1980,
1988); for their relationship to shamanism, see Hamer (1973); for
the relationship of drug states to non-drug induced religious states,
see Smith (1964); and for a theoretical explanation of this relation­
ship, see Walsh (1990). This is not to deny that there may be
significant overlap or functional equivalence between some of
these states (Peters, 1989), but rather to say that there seems no
reason to assume a single shamanic state.

This paper will focus on mapping the states occurring during the mapping
shamanic journey. The journey has been chosen for several rea­ states
sons. First, it is one of the key, some would say one of the defining, occurring
characteristics of shamanism (Eliade, 1964; Hamer, 1982; Noll, during
1983). In addition we have many descriptions of it, and the intense the
imagery which occurs in it has often been confused with schizo­ shamanic
phrenic hallucinations (Noll, 1983, 1985). journey

Even to say that there is only a single state of consciousness


possible in the shaman’s journey may be an oversimplification. As
anyone who has done multiple shamanic journeys knows, the state
may vary perceptibly from journey to journey, and there are prob­
ably significant individual differences between practitioners. Of
course this is not to deny that there are commonalities among these
states and experiences. However it is to point out that considerable
variation may occur and that even the concept of a “state of
consciousness” is a somewhat arbitrary and static crystallization of
what is, in living experience, a multidimensional dynamic flow of
experience. For the sake of simplicity, in this paper I will some­
times use the term “shamanic state of consciousness” to refer to
shamanic journey state(s), but the above caveats should be kept in
mind.

Phenomenological Mapping 31
NATURE OF THE SHAMANIC JOURNEY STATE OF
CONSCIOUSNESS

Trance States

The shamanic state of consciousness during journeys is often


spoken of as a trance state. The term “trance” seems to be widely
used but imprecisely defined. Indeed it is usually so imprecisely
defined that some researchers try to avoid it “partly because it
carries negative connotations, partly because it has never been
clearly enough defined” (Tart, 1986, p. 70). It seems to have been
used broadly to cover all waking ASCs and more narrowly to
indicate an ASC marked by focussed attention (Peters & Price-
Williams, 1983; Winkleman, 1986). In this paper the term will be
used only in this latter sense.

Definitions of focussed attention trances tend to include the criteria


of engagement in an inner world accompanied by reduced aware­
ness of, and responsiveness to, the environment (Pattison, Kahan &
Hurd, 1986). This is probably useful as a first step, but it may be
that the definition and differentiation of trance states can be taken
considerably further. The following is an initial attempt to begin
this process.

I would suggest that the key defining characteristic of a trance state


the is a focussing of attention with reduced awareness of the experien­
definition tial context (objects, stimuli, or environment outside this focus).
and The focus of the constricted attention may be either internal or
differentiation external. When it is internal, then there is the possibility of rich,
of intense images and fantasy including journeys of the shamanic
trance type. Of course shamans would argue for the objective reality of
states their realms and experiences and deny that they are merely images
(Hamer, 1984. 1990).

Given the fact that the shamanic state of consciousness is a form of


trance, can we go further and ask, “what type of trance?” In other
words, to what extent can we differentiate and map trance states?
Various maps of states of consciousness have been proposed for
millennia. Ancient Asian systems include the Buddhist Abhi-
dharma (Nyanaponika, 1976) and yogic chakra systems (Tart,
1983). Recent Western suggestions include maps based on systems
theory (Tart, 1983), the level of arousal (Fischer, 1986), inducing
variables (Ludwig, 1968), developmental stages (Wilber, 1980),
and phenomenological dimensions (Clark, 1983). However this
area of study is in its infancy, and none of these maps appear fully
appropriate to the purposes of this paper. Consequently the phe­
nomenological dimensions examined here are based on the fre­
quency with which these dimensions are described, and the im­
portance they are accorded in descriptions of the states to be

32 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995. Vol. 27, No. I


considered. Based on these criteria the following dimensions seem
particularly relevant.

Key Dimensions for Mapping Altered States

1. Degree of reduction of awareness of the experiential context


or environment: ranging from complete to minimal or none.

2. Ability to communicate.

3. Concentration: important factors here include:


a. The degree of concentration and
b. Whether the attention is fixed immovably on a single object
(e.g., Buddhist jhanas and yogic samadhi states) or momen­
tary or fluid where attention is allowed to shift between
selected objects (e.g., in shamanic journeys).

4. Degree of control.
Here there are two important types of control:
a. Ability to enter and leave the ASC at will;
b. Ability to control the content of experience while in the
ASC.

5. Degree of arousal.

6. Degree of calm. This refers to more than low arousal, which


refers simply to the level of activation, since calm also implies
low levels of agitation and distractibility (Nyanaponika,
1976).

7. Sensitivity or subtlety of sensory perception. This may be


either reduced, as in hypnotic anesthesia, or enhanced, as in
Buddhist insight meditation.

8. Nature of the sense of self or identity.

9. Affect: especially whether the experience is pleasurable or


painful.

10. Out of body experience (OOBE). Does the subject experience


perceiving from a point that seems outside the body?

11. Content of inner experience:


Here many further differentiations can be made such as: Is the
content formless or with form?
a. Formless, i.e., without differentiation into specific objects
or forms, e.g., an experience of undifferentiated light or
clear space as in the Buddhist jhanas.

Phenomenological Mapping 33
b. With form, differentiated, having specific objccts, e.g.,
visual images. If the content is differentiated, then it and the
state of consciousness can be divided along several sub­
divisions. Critical subdivisions include:
1) Degree of organization,
2) Modality of the predominant objects, e.g., auditory,
visual, somatic,
3) Intensity of the objects,
4) Psychological “level” of the objects, e.g., personal or
archetypal imagery.

12. The developmental level of the state. In some disciplines


different ASCs emerge in a fixed sequence of stages, e.g., the
formless samadhi states of yoga emerge after earlier stages in
which attention is focussed on specific images (Wilber, 1980;
Wilber et al., 1986). There docs not seem to be clear evidence
in the literature of a distinct developmental progression of
states in shamanism and so this dimension is not discussed
further in this paper.

These parameters are obviously broad and preliminary and com­


more pared to the exquisite subtleties of the Buddhist Ahhidharma are
sensitive relatively insensitive. Doubtless they will be refined by further
phenomeno­ research. Yet even at this stage they allow significantly more
logical sensitive phenomenological comparisons than have been the norm
comparisons previously. In addition, the very breadth of these etic categories
may confer significant advantages inasmuch as they should easily
encompass the relevant emic descriptions from diverse popula­
tions.

MAPPING SHAMANIC JOURNEY STATES

With this preliminary delineation of important experiential dimen­


sions of ASCs we can now turn attention specifically to the
shamanic journey state and its attendant experiences. The follow­
ing description of the state is based on three sources of information.
The first is the description of journeys in the literature (e.g.
Shirokogoroff, 1935; Eliade, 1964; Hamer, 1982; Noll, 1983;
Peters & Price-Williams, 1980). The second is interviews with
native Balinese and Basque practitioners and with Westerners who
had undergone intensive long-term (minimum one year) shamanic
apprenticeship and training in native South American, Huichol,
and Nepalese traditions.

Understanding these descriptions was facilitated by a third source


of information, namely, several years personal experience with
shamanic journeys. Training for these was obtained primarily
under the tutelage of Michael Hamer, formerly professor of anthro­

34 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


pology at the New School for Social Research, who has synthe­
sized his life-long study of, and study with, shamanic practitioners
from diverse cultures into courses on what he calls “core shaman­
ism,” which focus significantly on shamanic journeying. I mention
the personal experience because there is growing evidence that,
due to state specific learning, understanding of alternate states may
be significantly enhanced by direct experience of them (Tart, 1983,
1992). Space limitations obviously preclude giving detailed ac­
counts of the many individual journeys obtained from these several
sources, some of which are already available in the literature, but
the general profiles are as follows.

The shamanic journey is always undertaken for a specific purpose,


such as to obtain information or power with which to solve a
problem afflicting someone in the tribe. The shaman first enters an
altered state with the assistance of practices such as preparatory
fasting, sleep deprivation, and ritual, followed by aids such as general
drumming, dancing, and singing. Once established in the ASC, the profiles
shaman experiences separating from the body, largely losing of
awareness of the body and environment, and traveling as a free soul shamanic
or free spirit, to one of the three worlds of the shamanic cosmol­ journeys
ogy—the upper, middle, or lower worlds. The shaman’s attention
is fixed on the appropriate world, which is experienced vividly in
multiple sensory modalities, i.e., visual, auditory, tactile, etc. In
this world the shaman may first call his or her personal spirits
(spirit helpers, power animals) for assistance. The shaman then
roams at will in search of a source of relevant information or
power, experiencing a wide range of emotions depending on the
specific experiences that occur, and having found the source,
attempts to bring the information or power back. Reentering the
body the shaman terminates the ASC and communicates the infor­
mation or transmits the power to the person(s) in need, perhaps
prescribing a particular medication, ritual, or course of action
intended to alleviate the problem for which the journey was under­
taken. With this general outline of the journey we can now map the
shamanic journey state on our experiential dimensions as follows.

The shamanic journey state is usually one of reduced awareness of


the environment. That this reduction may be incomplete is sug­
gested by the fact that some shamans communicate with spectators
during their journeys (Peters & Price-Williams, 1980; Hamer,
1982).

Concentration is said to be increased. This concentration is mo­


mentary rather than fixed, since the shaman’s attention moves
freely from object to object.

Shamans usually maintain good control of the state. They are


usually able to enter and leave the ASC at will and also able to

Phenomenological Mapping 35
partly determine the type of imagery and experiences. This partial
control of experience is similar to that described in lucid dreaming
states (dreaming in which one recognizes that one is dreaming) (La
Berge, 1985, 1993) and to a number of psychotherapeutic visual­
ization techniques. These techniques include guided imagery,
guided meditation, “waking dreams,” Jungian active imagina­
tion, and a variety of other visualization strategies (Noll, 1983;
Vaughan, 1995a, b; Walsh, 1989c, 1990).

Shamans may be aroused and agitated during their journeys. This is


hardly surprising since they may experience themselves traversing
strange worlds, placating angry gods, and battling fearsome spirits.
Calm is not a word that would usually be applied to shamans’
journeys. Their affect is variable, depending on the types of experi­
ences they undergo.

Shamans usually continue to experience themselves during jour­


shamans neys as separate individuals but now as “souls” or “spirits,” freed
as from the body. As such they feel able to travel through or between
"souls ” or worlds, to see and interact with other spirits, and to intercede with
"spirits ” these spirits on behalf of their people. The shamanic journey
freed therefore bears similarities to the out-of-body experiences de­
from scribed throughout the world in spontaneous, learned, lucid dream,
the or near-death experiences (Monroe, 1971; Moody, 1975, 1988;
body Ring, 1980, 1984, 1986, 1993; Irwin, 1985). It may be that sponta­
neous out-of-body experiences such as these provided the inspira­
tion for their voluntary mastery and incorporation into a set of
practices and rituals that became the basis for the tradition of
shamanism (Walsh, 1989c, 1990).

Similar journey experience may also occur in other traditions


including Judaism, Taoism, Islam, yoga, and Tibetan Buddhism
although the journey is not as central a practice as in shamanism
(Evans-Wentz, 1958; Siegel & Hirschman, 1984; Baldrian, 1987).
For example, one of the earliest Jewish spiritual disciplines com­
prised the Merkabah or chariot practices in which practitioners
tried to recreate Ezekiel’s vision of the divine chariot. After rigor­
ous prayer and discipline, practitioners would experience them­
selves ascending through the seven heavens and confronting fear­
ful guardians until they were finally granted a vision of the throne
of God. Chariot practices flourished during the first millennium of
the common era but, as in many other parts of the world, these
shamanic practices were eventually replaced by other disciplines
(Idel, 1988; Kaplan, 1982; Scholem, 1961).

Of course all this is not to imply that these experiences necessarily


involve a separation of consciousness from the body. Though this
is indeed the interpretation of shamans, most Western researchers,

36 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


but not all, would regard them as imaginal rather than as truly
exosomatic.

The experiential content of the shamanic journey is complex and


coherent. The images or phenomena encountered are remarkably
rich, multimodal (e.g., visual and auditory), highly structured,
meaningful, consistent with the shaman’s learned cosmology and
the purpose of the specific session, and under partial voluntary
control.

COMPARATIVE MAPPING

Until now comparisons between different states of consciousness,


such as between those of shamanism and schizophrenia, have been
rather superficial. All too often people have simply concluded, on
the basis of very imprecise comparisons, that these states were comparing
identical or that they were different. Multidimensional phenom­ several
enological mapping allows us to move beyond such simple claims, dimensions
to compare several dimensions of experience, and to say on which of
dimensions states are similar and on which they differ. In short, this experience
approach allows us to move from unidimensional to multidimen­
sional comparisons and to more sensitively compare and distin­
guish between states using a multidimensional grid analysis.

We can now use this approach to compare shamanic states with


those that occur in other conditions. Since it has been claimed that
shamanic states are the same as those of schizophrenia, Buddhism,
and yoga, let us map these states on the dimensions of experience
that we have used to map shamanic states and then compare them.

Schizophrenic States

Many people who claim that shamans are schizophrenic and that
shamanic and schizophrenic states are equivalent seem to assume
that there is only one shamanic altered state and one schizophrenic
state. Yet we have already seen that there are probably multiple
shamanic states and the same is certainly true of schizophrenia
(American Psychiatric Association, 1994). To simplify things we
will focus here on the state that occurs in an acute schizophrenic
episode since it is this that has probably been confused most often
with shamanic experiences.

An acute schizophrenic episode can be one of the most devastating


experiences any human being can undergo. Psychological disorga­
nization is extreme and disrupts affect, cognition, perception, and
identity. Though there are significant variations within and be­

Phenomenological Mapping 37
tween individuals, we can map the acute schizophrenic episode in
terms of our experiential dimensions and compare it to the shaman­
ic state as follows:

Control may be almost entirely lost. The victim of an acute schizo­


phrenic episode has little ability to halt the process or modify
experiences. Awareness of the environment may be reduced when
the person is preoccupied with hallucinations, and cognition may
be so disorganized that the person may be unable to communicate.
Concentration is drastically reduced, and the patient is usually
highly aroused and agitated. The experience is usually extremely
unpleasant, and emotional responses are often distorted.

The schizophrenic’s experience is usually highly disorganized and


incoherent. This disorganization extends even to the sense of
identity, and schizophrenics may consequently feel that they are
disintegrating, dying, and losing the ability to discriminate what is
self and what is not. This may occasionally result in a sense of
being outside the body, which in these circumstances is called
autoscopy, but the experience is brief and uncontrolled (American
Psychiatric Association, 1994; Kaplan & Sadock, 1995).

Comparisons of Shamanic and Schizophrenic States

Once both the shamanic journey and acute schizophrenic states


comparing have been mapped on these dimensions, then it is relatively easy to
shamanic compare them. Table I reveals that they differ significantly on
journey several important dimensions including concentration, control,
and self-sense, affect, and content. This comparison makes dear that
schizophrenic there are major differences between the states of consciousness
slates found in shamanic journeys and in acute schizophrenia.

The other shamanic episode that has sometimes been confused


with a schizophrenic one is the shamanic initiation crisis. At the
time of their initial calling a few shamans-to-be appear to undergo
a major life crisis and exhibit a variety of bizarre behaviors
(Shirokogoroff, 1935; Eliade, 1964; Walsh, 1990). These are cer­
tainly suggestive of psychopathology and have been given several
diagnoses, including schizophrenia.

However, this phase is temporary and usually followed by success­


ful resolution and even exceptional subsequent functioning. It has
therefore been suggested that it might be interpreted as an example
of a developmental crisis that has been variously called a “creative
illness” (Ellenberger, 1970), “regenerative process” (Pelletier
& Garfield, 1976), “renewal process” (Perry, 1986), “metanoic
voyage,” “visionary state,” “mystical experience with psychotic
features” (Lukoff, 1985), “resilience” (Flach, 1988), “spiritual

38 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. /


emergency,” “spiritual emergence,” and “transpersonal crisis”
(Bragdon, 1988; Grof & Grof, 1986, 1989, 1990). For a fuller
discussion of the unusual behavior following the initial call and its
various diagnostic interpretations, see Walsh (1990). Suffice it to
say here that it seems most unlikely that the initiation crisis can be
diagnosed as a schizophrenic episode and that it occurs in only a
minority of shamans. Consequently it is clearly inappropriate to
use the initiation crisis as a reason to diagnose or dismiss all
shamans as schizophrenic.

Another factor that must be considered in comparing shamans and


schizophrenics is social functioning. It will be recalled that sha­
mans are often outstanding members of the community, may dis­
play considerable intellectual, artistic, and leadership skills, and
make significant contributions to their community. Such skills and
contributions are rare among schizophrenics.

Henceforth shamanism and schizophrenia are best identified as shamanism


distinct phenomena. Although it is understandable that early re­ and
searchers sometimes labelled shamans as schizophrenic, it is also schizophrenia
clear that this practice is no longer appropriate. Of course this is not as
to deny the possibility that some shamans may be psychologically distinct
disturbed, but it is certainly to deny that they are all necessarily so. phenomena

Comparisons with Other Traditions

Within recent years there has been a growing tendency to equate


shamans with masters of various contemplative traditions, espe­
cially Buddhism and yoga, and to assume that the states of con­
sciousness that the shaman enters are identical to those of these
practitioners and traditions.

Yet as we will see, multidimensional mapping and comparisons


reveal some significant similarities but also significant differences
between these states. Furthermore, in addition to the evidence of
careful phenomenological comparisons, there are also significant
theoretical arguments against equivalence. These arguments can
be outlined briefly as follows:

1. As was mentioned, there are probably multiple shamanic states


of consciousness, e.g., journey, possession, and drug states. There­
fore, careful comparison between traditions involves more than
finding one shamanic state and claiming it to be identical with a
state attained in other traditions. Rather multiple comparisons are
necessary.

2. Other traditions such as Buddhism and yoga have many distinct


practices and paths. Buddhism, for example, has literally dozens of

Phenomenological Mapping 39
meditation practices (Conze, 1956; Goleman, 1988), and there is
no evidence to suggest that they induce identical states. In fact
phenomenological reports suggest major differences between
them. For example the Buddhist concentrative states, the jhanas,
differ dramatically from the states of the central Buddhist Vipas-
sana (insight) meditation (Buddhaghosa, 1975). Indeed, the jhanic
concentrative states are closer in many ways to yogic samadhis
(Goleman, 1988), but this is hardly surprising given that they were
originally derived from yogic concentration practices (Narada,
1980).

3. Yogic and Buddhist practices evolve through apparently invari­


ant series of markedly distinct states and stages, e.g., the ten Zen
oxherding pictures and the eight jhanas of Buddism and the vari­
ous stages of yogic samadhi (Feuerstein, 1989). Therefore, mul­
tiple states may exist even within a single practice.

In summary, claims that shamans and masters of other traditions


are equivalent and access identical states will need to make mul­
tiple comparisons between multiple states on multiple dimensions;
something that simply has not been done. These theoretical argu­
ments point to several reasons why it is difficult to make sweeping
claims for identity between shamanic states and those of other
traditions. Of course this is not to deny that there may be some
experiential and functional overlap between different states inas­
much as they may involve similar processes and aims, such as
attentional training and compassionate service (Peters, 1989).

These theoretical reservations are supported by data. For when we


actually make direct multidimensional comparisons, we find not
multidimensional identity but rather major differences. Thus, for example, let us
comparisons make a summary comparison in the accompanying table between
find the prototypic shamanic journey state and prototypic states that are
major likely to occur in advanced Buddhist Vipassana meditation and
differences advanced yogic practice. This comparison will be aided by a
summary presentation of the principles and experiences of classi­
cal yogic and Buddhist insight meditations. These descriptions are
based on classic two-thousand-year-old texts (e.g. Prabhavananda
& Ishcrwood, 1953; Buddhaghosa, 1975), recent descriptions (e.g.,
Goldstein, 1983), interviews with advanced Asian and Western
practitioners, psychological testing (Shapiro & Walsh, 1983;
Brown, Forte & Dysard, 1984a, b; Brown & Engler, 1986), and two
decades of personal meditative experience (Walsh, 1977, 1978).

Classical yoga is a concentration practice in which the mind is


stilled until it can be fixed with unwavering attention on inner
experience such as the breath, an image, or a mantra (Eliade, 1969;
Zimmer, 1969; Feuerstein, 1989, 1990). To do this, the yogi with­
draws attention from the body and outer world, a technique called

40 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


pratyahara, to focus inwards “like a tortoise withdrawing his limbs
into his shell.” As a result, awareness of the body and outer world is
largely lost, and the yogi can now focus undistractedly on ever
more subtle internal objects. Finally all objects drop away, and the
yogi experiences samadhi which is an example of the classical
ecstatic mystical union or unio mystica (Underhill, 1974; Stace,
1987; Forman, 1990).

As previously discussed, Western researchers initially tended to


dismiss yoga and other contemplative practices as culture specific
pathologies. Such interpretations still occur occasionally, e.g.,
Castillo’s (1991, 1995) conclusion that yogic enlightenment with factors
its witness consciousncss of the Atman is a form of dissociation or arguing
depersonalization. However, several factors seem to argue against against
this conclusion. First, these states are very different from cases of culture
clinical dissociation. Second, studies of deep meditative experi­ specific
ences suggest that experience of self-transcendcnce is an indepen­ pathologies
dent dimension, largely uncorrclated with personality dimensions
or disorders (Gifford-May & Thompson, 1994). Finally the phe­
nomenological analyses presented here suggest enhanced mental
ability rather than pathology. Indeed, pathologizing interpretations
such as dissociation seem more and more like pathomorphism: the
tendency to misinterpret or mislabel psychological phenomena in
terms of pathological categories.

Whereas classical yoga is a concentration practice, Buddhist in­


sight meditation is a so-called awareness practice. Whereas yoga
emphasizes the development of unwavering attention on inner
objects, insight meditation emphasizes fluid attention to all ob­
jects, both inner and outer. Here all stimuli arc observed and
examined as precisely and minutely as awareness will allow. The
aim is to examine and understand the workings of senses, body,
and mind as fully as possible and thereby to cut through the
distortions and misunderstandings that usually cloud awareness.
“To see things as they are” is the motto of this practice (Buddha-
ghosa, 1975; Goldstein, 1983; Goleman, 1988).

Table 1 shows that the shamanic journey, yogic, and Buddhist


states differ on a number of significant dimensions. Perceptual
sensitivity to environmental stimuli (Awareness of Environment)
shows dramatic differences between states. In Buddhist Vipassana
meditation states, both ancient and modem phenomenological re­
ports (Buddhaghosa, 1975; Nyanaponika, 1976; Walsh, 1977,
1978; Goldstein, 1983) as well as recent tachistoscopic testing
(Brown, Forte & Dysard, 1984a, b) suggest that perceptual sensi­
tivity to environmental stimulation can be significantly enhanced.
However awareness of the environment is usually somewhat re­
duced in the shamanic journey and is drastically reduced, even to
the point of nonawareness, in advanced yogic states (Zimmer,

Phenomenological Mapping 41
TABLE 1
Comparisons of the States of Consciousness Occurring in Shamanic Journeys, Advanced Yogic and
Buddhist Meditation, and Schizophrenia

BUDDHIST (VIPASSANA)
DIMENSION SHAMANISM INSIGHT MEDITATION PATANJALl’S YOGA SCHIZOPHRENIA

Control
ability to enter Yes Yes Yes Dramatic
and leave ASC reduction of control
at will

ability to control Partial Partial Extreme


the content of control in some
experience samadhis
Awareness of Reduced sensory Often decreased
Environment and body awareness and distorted
Ability to Sometimes Usually None Communication is
Communicate usually distorted

Concentration Fluid Fluid Fixed

Arousal Usually Agitation


may be extreme
Calm Usually Extreme peace
Affect + (Positive feelings) + or- ++ Ineffable bliss Usually very negative
or - (negative + Tends to increase though rarely
feelings) as practice deepens positive, often
distorted and
inappropriate
Self-sense Separate self-sense, Self-sense is Unchanging Disintegrated, loss
may be a non­ deconstructed into transcendent Self of ego boundaries.
physical "soul" a changing flux: or purusha Unable to distinguish
“no self' self and others
OOBE Yes, controlled No No. Loss of body Rarely,
ecstasy (“ecstasis”) awareness ("enstasis") uncontrolled
Content Organized coherent Deconstruction of Single object Often disorganized
imagery- determined complex experi- ( "samadhi with and fragmented
by shamanic iences into their support”) or pure
cosmology and constituent consciousness
purpose of stimuli. Stimuli are ("samadhi without
journey further decon­ support”)
structed into a
continuous flux

1969; Feuerstein, 1989). Indeed Eliade (1969, p. 78) defined


samadhi as “an invulnerable state completely closed to stimuli.”

These differences in environmental awareness are reflected in


differences in communication. Buddhist insight meditators can
usually communicate, and shamans can sometimes do so (Peters &
Price-Williams, 1980). However, in advanced yogic concentration,
communication is usually sufficient to break concentration and
remove the practitioner from the state (Goleman, 1988).

The types and degree of concentration also vary from tradition to


tradition. In contradistinction to schizophrenia, in which concen-

42 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995. Vol. 27, No. 1


tration is drastically impaired, all three traditions train for in­
creased concentration. Indeed, training attention appears to be a
common denominator among consciousness altering practices
(Novak, 1987). In shamanism and vipassana meditation, concen­
tration is momentary since attention moves fluidly from one object
to another (Eliade, 1964; Goldstein, 1983). This is in marked
contrast to advanced yogic practice where attention is fixed and
immovable (Eliade, 1969; Feuerstein, 1989).

Closely related to concentration is control. Two different dimen­


sions of control should be distinguished. The first is the ability to
enter and leave the ASC at will, and the second is the ability to two
determine the experiential content of the ASC. Contrary to schizo­ different
phrenia where control is drastically reduced, all three disciplines dimensions
enhance both types of control. Practitioners arc able to enter and of
leave their respective states at will, although the shaman may control
require external assistance such as psychoactive drugs or entrain­
ing stimuli such as drumming. Both shamans and vipassana medi­
tators are able to exert partial control over their experiences in the
ASC, while yogis in samadhi have almost complete control. In­
deed, the second line of Patanjali’s classic yogic text states that
“yoga is the control of thought-waves in the mind” (Prabhavanada
& Isherwood, 1953, p. 15).

There are also significant differences in arousal. Shamans are


usually aroused during their joumcy and may even dance or be­
come highly agitated. Vipassana meditators, on the other hand,
report initial emotional and arousal lability which gradually yields
to greater calm (Walsh, 1977, 1978; Goldstein, 1983). Calm may
become profound in yogic samadhi when much of the normal
cognitive processing ceases (Brown, 1986; Eliade, 1969; Shapiro
& Walsh, 1984). Although I cannot fully agree with Roland
Fischer’s (1986) “cartography of nonordinary states” based on
levels of arousal, it is interesting to note that he places samadhi at
the extreme end of hypoarousal and schizophrenic states near the
extreme end of hyperarousal.

The self-sense differs drastically among the three practices. The


shaman usually retains a sense of being a separate individual,
though now perhaps identified as a soul rather than as a body.
However, the Buddhist meditator’s microscopic awareness decon­
structs the self-sense into a flux of evanescent component stimuli.
This is the experience of anatta in which it is recognized that the
sense of a permanent, separate egoic self is an illusory product of
imprecise awareness. This apparently continuous self-sense arises
in much the same way as an apparently dynamic continuous movie
arises from a series of still frames (Goldstein, 1983; Goleman,
1988), a phenomenon known as flicker fusion. The yogi, on the

Phenomenological Mapping 43
other hand, may come to realize an unchanging transcendent Self,
or purusha (Eliade, 1969; Zimmer, 1969).

The shaman’s experience may be either joyous or painful as may


the Buddhist Vipassana meditator’s. However, in advanced stages
the yogi’s experiences are said to be increasingly blissful.

The content of the practitioners’ experiences also differs dramati­


cally between traditions. The shaman experiences organized co­
herent imagery consistent with the shamanic worldview and the
purpose of the journey. However, both ancient phenomenological
reports and recent perceptual testing (Brown & Engler, 1986)
suggest that Buddhist meditators eventually deconstruct all experi­
ences into their constituent stimuli. What remains is the perception
of an evanescent flux of simple stimuli which arise and pass away
with extreme rapidity. By contrast, the advanced yogi is said to
attain "samadhi without support,” an experience of unchanging
pure consciousness devoid of images or objects of any kind.

Practitioners from the three traditions show significant differences


with regard to their experience of the body. Whereas the shaman
differences typically has a controlled out-of-body experience (OOBE) or
in “ecstasis,” the Buddhist vipassana meditator does not. Yogis, on
experience the other hand, may lose awareness of the body due to pratyahara
of (elimination of sensory input) and experience “enstasis.” On this
the point Eliade, whose theoretical knowledge of both shamanism and
body- yoga was probably as extensive as anyone’s, was very clear on the
difference between the two.

Yoga cannot possibly be confused with shamanism or classed among


the techniques of ecstasy. The goal of classic yoga remains perfect
autonomy, enstasis, while shamanism is characterized by its desperate
effort to attain the “condition of a spirit,” to accomplish ecstatic flight
(Eliade, 1969, p. 339).

COMMON EXPERIENCES AND CAPACITIES

There is a popular saying that all things are both similar and
different. Having demonstrated significant differences between
shamanic, Buddhist, and yogic states, the question naturally arises,
“in what ways are they similar?” Certainly we would expect some
similarities since all three groups of practitioners have undergone
long-term intensive mental training designed to cultivate religious
sensitivity, experiences, and understandings. I will therefore
briefly summarize the similarities that can be identified on the
experiential dimensions we have been using.

44 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Control

All three practitioners have developed the ability to enter and leave
desired states of consciousness with relative ease. Of course this is
hardly surprising since this ability was a criterion for inclusion in
this study.

Concentration

All three groups of practitioners exhibit heightened concentration.


However the type of concentration, fixed or fluid, is specific to the
training and task.

Affect

In the course of their initial training all three practitioners are


almost invariably forced to confront a variety of fearful negative
experiences. The general tendency is, as might be expected from
psychological principles of implosive therapy, a gradual decrease
in intensity of these negative experiences. In these practices this is
followed by a tendency for more pleasant, even ecstatic and bliss­
ful, experiences to arise (Elkin, 1977; Goldstein, 1983; Goleman,
1988), especially in the yogic samadhis.

Self-Sense

All three practitioners experience a shift in identity although there


are significant differences in the experiences that induce it and the
sense of self that results. However the common element is a
disidentification from the conventional egoic bodybound self­
sense.

Content

All three practices induce specific, religiously significant experi­


ences. What is remarkable is that these experiences are consistent
with the worldview and ontocosmology of the tradition. This
suggests that there is an intriguing complementarity between a
tradition’s worldview and its art of transcendence such that an
effective technology (set of practices) elicits experiences consis­
tent with and supportive of the worldview (Walsh, 1990, 1991).
Since worldview and expectation can mold experience, it is there­
fore an interesting question as to what extent technology or
worldview is chicken or egg.

Phenomenological Mapping 45
COMPARISON WITHIN DISCIPLINES AND ACROSS
DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES

It seems obvious that phenomenological mapping using the dimen­


sions described above can differentiate among at least some of the
states induced by the practices of different traditions. The next
logical questions are to what extent it can differentiate: 1) the states
induced by different practices within a tradition, and 2) the states
induced at different stages of a single practice.

That it may sometimes be able to differentiate among different


practices within a tradition can be shown by the example of Bud­
dhism. Classical Buddhism employs two central meditative prac­
tices: concentration (samatha) and insight (vipassana). The former
uses fixed attention, for example on the breath, to develop concen­
tration, ultimately resulting in a series of eight increasingly refined
jhanas: states of unwavering attention marked by intense bliss.
Using the phenomenological dimensions employed above, these
states are largely indistinguishable from the yogic ones, but this is
hardly surprising since they were apparently historically derived
from yoga; however, they are clearly distinguishable from vipas­
sana. Table 2 makes clear the major differences in the states
induced by the advanced concentration and insight practices of
Buddhism and the marked similarities of the jhanic states to the
yogic ones.

However, these phenomenological dimensions have a more diffi­


difficulties cult time differentiating among the different jhanic states because
distinguishing the differences between these states are so subtle (Table 3). All of
between them are characterized by extremely high degrees of control, calm,
states and concentration, and almost total lack of awareness of the envi­
with ronment and ability to communicate. They do differ slightly in the
subtle specific type of positive affect, e.g., a combination of rapture and
differences happiness in the first two jhanas, happiness without rapture in the
third, and equanimity in the remaining five. Likewise, the content
may also differ, with, for example, the meditator being aware of
infinite space in the fifth and infinite consciousness in the sixth.
Thus it seems that phenomenological mapping may be used to
differentiate and compare contemplative stages of development,
but that in some cases the distinctions may be very subtle and
identifying them may require an intimate knowledge of the prac­
tice.

Is There a Common Mystical Experience?

One of the major questions that has dominated philosophical dis­


cussion of mysticism since William James is whether or not there is
any core mystical experience that is common across cultures and

46 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


TABLE 2
Comparisons of Yogic, Buddhist Second Jhanic, and Buddhist Vipassana States

BUDDHIST (VIPASSANA)
DIMENSION PATANJALl’S YOGA INSIGHT MEDITATION 2nd jhana

Control
ability to enter and Yes Yes Yes
leave ASC at will
at will

ability to control the Extreme control Partial Extreme control


content of experience in some samadhis

Awareness of Reduced sensory Reduced sensory


Environment and body awareness and body awareness
Ability to None Usually None
Communicate
Concentration Fixed Fluid Fixed

Arousal Usually
Calm Extreme peace Usually Extreme peace
Affect ++ Ineffable bliss + or- intense happiness and
+ Tends to increase rapture
as practice deepens
Self-sense Unchanging transcendent Self-sense is deconstructed Merged with the object
self or purusha into a changing flux: of concentration
“no self”

OOBE No, loss of body No No, loss of body


awareness (“enstasis”) awareness (“enstasis"!

Content Single object (“samadhi Deconstruction of complex Formless mental


with support”) or pure experiences into their qualities and affects
consciousness constituent stimuli. such as intense
(“samadhi without Stimuli are further happiness
support") deconstructed into a
continuous flux

traditions. Walter Stace and some advocates of the perennial phi­


losophy argue yes; no, say “constructivists,” such as Steven Katz
(1978, 1983), who argue that all experience, including mystical
experience, is constructed and hence mediated and modified by a
variety of conditioned, inescapable, personal, and cultural experi­
ences and filters. Others argue that the question remains open
(Smith, 1987; Rothberg, 1989,1990). For an excellent examination
of the epistemological assumptions underlying Katz’s position, see
Rothberg (1989, 1990). Since the comparisons made above clearly
indicate significant differences between shamanic, yogic, and Bud­
dhist experiences, they would seem to favor the constructivists and
argue against the view that there exists a common mystical experi­
ence.

Yet this may be only part of the story. Although the yogic and
Buddhist meditative experiences described here are indeed ad­
vanced, they are not necessarily the most profound. At the highest
reaches of meditation, transcendent experiences of a wholly differ­
ent kind, radically discontinuous from all that have gone before,

Phenomenological Mapping 47
TABLE 3
Comparisons within the Buddhist Tradition of the Second, Third, Fourth and Sixth Jhanas

DIMENSION 2nd jhana 3rd jhana 4th jhana 6th jhana

Control
ability to enter and Yes Yes Yes Yes
leave ASC at will
ability to control the Extreme control Extreme Control Extreme control Extreme control
content of experience
Awareness of Minimal Minimal Minimal Minimal
Environment
Ability to None None None None
Communicate
Concentration Fixed Fixed Fixed Fixed
Arousal
Calm Extreme peace Extreme peace Extreme peace Extreme peace
and equanimity and equanimity
Affect Intense happiness Intense happiness No affect since No affect
affect is nullified
by equanimity
Self-sense Merged with the Merged with the Merged with the Merged with the
object of object of object of object of
concentration concentration concentration concentration
OOBE No. Loss of body No. Loss of body No. Loss of body No. Loss of body
awareness awareness awareness awareness
(“enstasis”) (“enstasis”) (“enstasis”) (“enstasis”)
Content Formless mental Formless mental Formless mental Unbounded
qualities and affects qualities and affects qualities consciousness
such as intense such as intense
happiness and happiness
rapture

are said to occur. These are the full samadhi of yoga and the
nirvana of Buddhism.

Here description and reason are said to fail. “Not by reasoning is


this apprehension attainable” (Katha Upanishad 1, 2, 4), “words
return along with the mind not attaining it” (Taittiriya Upanishad
2, 9, 1). For these experiences, and the realms they putatively
reveal, are said to be beyond space, time, qualities, concepts, and
limits of any kind. Hence, these experiences are said to be inef­
fable, indescribable, and inconceivable because they are trans-
empirical, transverbal, and transrational. In the words of the Third
Zen Patriarch Sengstan (1975):

To this ultimate finality


no-law or description applies....
The more you talk about it
The further astray you wander from the truth.

Here phenomenological description, mapping, and comparison


fail. For even to attempt to qualify, let alone map and measure,

48 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 21, No. 1


these experiences and domains is said to invariably result in para­
dox, inasmuch as this is Nicholas de Cusa’s “coincidence of oppo­
sites,” Zen’s “not-one, not-two,” and Vedanta’s “advaita.”

The paradox of attempting to describe the coincidence of opposites


is, as Kant was to discover, that the opposite of any apparently
valid statement is also valid. Almost fifteen hundred years before
Kant, Nagarjuna—founder of Madhyamika Buddhism—reached
virtually the same conclusion, “a conclusion echoed and amplified
in succeeding generations by every major school of Eastern phi­
losophy and psychology: Reason cannot grasp the essence of direct
absolute reality, and when it tries, it generates only dualistic in­ transrational
compatibilities” (Wilber, 1983). The primary and liberating task, intuition
say both Buddhist and yogic traditions, is not to describe these and
states and experiences but rather to know them for oneself through its
direct, transrational intuition and its resultant wisdom, prajna or resultant
jnana. wisdom

Are the yogic samadhi and Buddhist nirvana identical, or more


precisely, are they indistinguishable? It seems that one cannot say
that they are different, but then one also cannot say they are the
same, since both similarities and differences depend on being able
to attribute and compare qualities. The answer, at least for yoga and
Buddhism, to the question of whether there exists a common core
mystical experience may be neither yes nor no but rather, from a
Western philosophical perspective, “what can be said at all can be
said clearly, what we cannot talk about we must pass over in
silence” (Wittgenstein, 1961, p. 3).

The ineffability of the yogic samadhi and Buddhist nirvana does


not answer the questions of whether there exists a mystical experi­
ence common to diverse traditions or whether all mystical experi­
ences are constructed. However, it does suggest that although
many yogic, Buddhist, and shamanic states can be differentiated by
phenomenological mapping, there may be some states, perhaps the
most profound, that cannot be mapped or distinguished.

Are Shamans Also Mystics?

And what of shamanism? Do its practitioners also access mystical


states? I have found no references to the unio mystica in the
literature, and one authority categorically states that in shamanism
“we never find the mystical union with the divinity so typical for
the ecstatic experience in the ‘higher forms of religious mysti­
cism’” (Hultkrantz, 1973).

However, there are three lines of evidence that suggest that this
conclusion could be incorrect. These are the facts that shamanism

Phenomenological Mapping 49
is an oral tradition, that powerful psychedelics may be used, and
that some Western practitioners report unitive experiences.

Since shamanism is an oral tradition, it is possible that such


experiences may have occurred, at least occasionally, but have
been lost to subsequent generations and, of course, therefore, to
Western researchers. Without writing, there may be no way to
adequately preserve a record of the highest and rarest flowerings of
a tradition.

Although not an essential part of shamanism, the use of psyche­


delics is common in some areas (Harner, 1973). Peyote and
ayahuasca, for example, are powerful psychedelics capable of
inducing experiences that some researchers regard as genuine
mystical ones (Grof, 1988; Smith, 1964; Walsh & Vaughan, 1993).

Finally, Westerners being trained in shamanic practices may report


unitive experiences, and I have personally heard two such ac­
counts. These seemed to be examples of nature mysticism, al­
though, of course, there is the possibility that other types of mysti­
cal experience may also occur. All of this suggests that although
the unio mystica is not the goal of shamanic practices, it may
sometimes occur.

SUMMARY AND NEXT STEPS

Claims that shamanic states are identical to those of schizophrenia,


claims Buddhism, or yoga appear to have been based on imprecise com­
based parisons, and both theory and data argue against their equivalence.
on In part, this confusion reflects a history of imprecise mapping of
imprecise altered states. More precise, though still preliminary, multidimen­
comparisons sional phenomenological mapping and comparisons of altered
states are now possible. The maps and comparisons presented here
are obviously only initial steps. However even at this preliminary
stage of development they suggest that, while shamanic, Buddhist,
and yogic states show some functional and experiential overlap,
they are usually quite distinct and show major differences from
schizophrenic states.

An obvious next step would be to use one of the psychometric tests


now being developed, such as The Phenomenology of Conscious­
ness Inventory (Pekala & Kumar, 1986), to obtain quantitative
assessments and comparisons of the phenomenology of these
states. Another would be to employ some of the new technologies
for measuring brain activity, e.g., PET (positron emission tomo­
graphy) and multichannel EEG (electroencephalography) to both
compare states and begin to understand their physiological corre­

50 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


lates, though without falling into the trap of interpreting altered
states as only altered physiology (Wilber, 1993, 1995).

Careful interviews of practitioners may also be helpful. However,


one limitation here may be that interviewers who have themselves
not undertaken consciousness disciplines and experienced alter­
nate states may be limited in their ability to comprehend the
nuances involved. Charles Tart’s (1992) argument for using “yogi-
scientists” as research-practitioners may be appropriate here.

Whatever future methods may evolve, it is clear that we have only a


begun to appreciate the variety, value, differences, and develop­ project
ment of altered states and that understanding them better is a of
project of enormous importance and one of the transpersonal enormous
movement’s greatest challenges and opportunities. importance

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University of California Medical School, Irvine, CA 92717.

56 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


TOWARD THE O B JECTIVE
EXPLORATION O F NO N-ORDINARY
REALI TY

Charles T. Tart
Berkeley, California

This is the first time I have given this kind of talk on April Fool’s
Day, but that makes it all the more interesting. At the end I’ll let
you decide whether I am just kidding. My primary' aim here is to
raise interesting questions, not answer them.

I’m going to bring up some methodological issues but focus it


around a particular human story and the concrete experience be­
hind it. This focus is based on the death, approximately two weeks
ago, of an old friend of mine, a quite remarkable person, Robert A. methodological
Monroe. He was the author of a book back in 1971 called Journeys issues
Out of the Body (Monroe, 1971), which I understand has sold about and
10,000 copies a year steadily, ever since it was published. It has a
affected a lot of people, and he has authored two other books, Far human
Journeys (Monroe, 1985) and Ultimate Journey (Monroe, 1994). story

His story, which will be my central theme, is an amazing one. I


have known him well enough that I have no question about his
honesty, intelligence, and basic sanity in reporting his quite un­
usual experiences. Indeed, in ordinary life he was a successful
American businessman, the archetype of “normalcy” for our cul­
ture. I dedicate this talk to him.

In the spring of 1958, Monroe thought he must have eaten some­


thing that didn’t agree with him. He had some very strong cramps
and burning sensations, but they went away after a few hours. Then
he started having periods in which a feeling of “vibration” would
come over his body. So, he did the perfectly normal thing: he went

This article is based on a lecture that was presented in San Francisco on April 1st,
1995, under the auspices of the American Philosophical Association and the Society
for the Anthropological Study of Consciousness.

Copyright © 1995 Transpersonal Institute

The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology’, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1 57


to his doctor. His doctor, after a thorough examination, said there
was nothing wrong with him. A psychologist friend he talked to
said something like, “Well, why don’t you relax and just experi­
ence whatever it is.” As he was not a religious person and had no
interest in or knowledge of metaphysics, occultism, or the like, this
was not an easy suggestion to follow. Since there didn’t seem to be
anything physically wrong, he finally relaxed and every once in a
while, usually when he was lying down, his body would start
vibrating, not externally, but feeling as though there were some
electrical vibrations and sensations inside.

MONROE’S OUT-OF-THE-BODY EXPERIENCE

In the spring of 1958 he had his first out-of-the-body experience,


his first OOBE. OOBE is the acronym I coined to describe out-of-
the-body experiences, not knowing I was creating some terrible
semantic karma, because after that people began to tell me about
their “Oobies.” I never thought it would be pronounced! I discov­
ered last week that the computer industry is now using OOBE to
refer to the “out-of-thc-box experience,” that primary experience
you have when you bring your system home (and it might or might
not function). Symbolically this might be relevant because the
human experience is sort of like getting out of the “box” of the
body.
Monroe s
first Anyway, in the spring of 1958 he described his first OOBE1. He
OOBE wrote:

If I thought I faced incongruities at this point, it was because I did not


know what was yet to come. Some four weeks later, when the vibra­
tions came again, I was duly cautious about attempting to move an arm
or leg. It was late at night, and I was lying in bed before sleep. My wife
had fallen asleep beside me. There was a surge that seemed to be in my
head, and quickly the condition spread through my body. It all seemed
the same. As I lay there trying to decide how to analyze the thing in
another way, I just happened to think how nice it would be to take a
glider up and fly the next afternoon (my hobby at that time). Without
considering any consequences—not knowing there would be any—I
thought of the pleasure it would bring.

After a moment, I became aware of something pressing against my


shoulder. Half-curious, I reached back and up to feel what it was. My
hand encountered a smooth wall. I moved my hand along the wall the
length of my arm, and it continued smooth and unbroken.

My senses fully alert, I tried to see in the dim light. It was a wall, and 1
was lying against it with my shoulder. I immediately reasoned that I
had gone to sleep and fallen out of bed. (I had never done so before, but
all sorts of strange things were happening, and falling out of bed was
quite possible.)

58 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Then I looked again. Something was wrong. This wall had no windows,
no furniture against it, no doors. It was not a wall in my bedroom. Yet
somehow it was familiar. Identification came instantly. It wasn’t a wall;
it was the ceiling. I was floating against the ceiling, bouncing gently
with any movement I made. I rolled in the air, startled, and looked
down. There, in the dim light below me, was the bed. There were two
figures lying in the bed. To the right was my wife. Beside her was
someone else. Both seemed asleep.

This was a strange dream, I thought. I was curious. Whom would I


dream to be in bed with my wife? I looked more closely, and the shock
was intense. I was the someone on the bed!

My reaction was almost instantaneous. Here I was; there was my body.


I was dying; this was death, and I wasn’t ready to die. Somehow, the
vibrations were killing me. Desperately, like a diver, I swooped down
to my body and dove in. I then felt the bed and the covers, and when I
opened my eyes, I was looking at the room from the perspective of my
bed.

What had happened? Had I truly almost died? My heart was beating
rapidly, but not unusually so. I moved my arms and legs. Everything
seemed normal. The vibrations had faded way. I got up and walked
around the room, looked out the window, and smoked a cigarette
(Monroe, 1971, pp. 27-28).

Again he showed a perfectly appropriate, normal reaction; he went a


to see a physician. Once again, after thorough physical examina­ normal
tion, nothing was found to be wrong with him. reaction

NINE HYPOTHESES

What do we make of the OOBE? I’ll draw on thousands of such


experiences that I have read and examined over the years, and I’ll
draw primarily on the “classical” OOBE as a case of being out of
your body experientially but with consciousness staying normal,
i.e., ordinary, thus ruling out most near-death experiences because
they have an altered state of consciousness aspect as well as the
OOBE aspect. To stimulate our thinking, I’ll look at some nine
hypotheses as to how we might explain or think about an OOBE.

First Hypothesis

The first, of course, is that it is some kind of craziness or mental


illness. There is simply no evidence at all, however, that someone
having had an OOBE is necessarily psychopathological. We have
millions of ordinary people who have had OOBEs. Some mentally
ill people have them also, but that doesn't make the OOBE inher­
ently pathological.

Toward the Objective Exploration of Non-Ordinary Reality 59


Second Hypothesis

The second hypothesis we can usually use is that the OOBE is just
a dream. The problem with this hypothesis is that, phenomeno-
logically, people who had both dreams and OOBEs say there is no
confusing them. They are quite distinct kinds of experiences. The
primary difference is that the pattern of consciousness in an
OOBE is pretty much like ordinary consciousness. If you experi­
enced your mind functioning in a normal waking pattern, but
happened to experience yourself as floating near the ceiling, that’s
what an OOBE would feel like generally. Further, there is an
experiential, sensory reality to the OOBE that generally feels
much more intense than a dream, and, further, a person has full
reasoning ability during an OOBE. They can, for example, float
there near the ceiling and go through all sorts of philosophical and
scientific arguments about why what they’re experiencing can't
be happening, and yet it keeps right on happening and can be
subjected to scrutiny.

Experientially, Monroe distinguished sharply between his dreams


a and OOBEs. There’s a little bit of published work on brain wave
distinction patterns to emphasize this distinction also. 1 was able to work with
between Monroe (Tart, 1967) and another talented OOBE person (Tart,
dreams 1968a) in the laboratory and found that the pattern the brain waves
and showed is like ordinary dreaming in some ways but distinctly
OOBEs different in other ways. There hasn’t been a lot of work published
on this, so I’m not going to over-generalize this psychophysiologi-
cal find.

Third Hypothesis

The third hypothesis, then, is that an OOBE is some kind of special


dream state, such as a lucid dream. A lucid dream is an ordinary
dream in which there is a sudden shift in consciousness so that you
feel as if you have your ordinary pattern of consciousness avail­
able. You know your true condition, namely that you’re in a dream,
that your making all this up somehow, so there’s concurrent knowl­
edge that it’s a dream, coupled with all your ordinary mental
abilities.

Monroe had had some lucid dreams. Fie distinguished them sharply
from his OOBEs. His primary criterion was that in lucid dreams he
could easily change the actions and events of the dream world
simply by willing it, whereas in his OOBEs, he seemed to be in
places that had rules of their own; they weren’t subject to arbitrary
will on his part. I should note as a side theme, given the experience
of awakening fully at night yet being elsewhere than in your real
physical body, how you interpret the experience probably depends

60 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


strongly on your a priori beliefs. Thus some OOBEs may be
mislabeled lucid dreams and vice versa.

Fourth Hypothesis

A fourth hypothesis, then, is that the OOBE is a special state but is


completely subjective. This is certainly true sometimes, for some
OOBEs. When I was doing hypnosis research years ago, for ex­
ample, I had a well-trained group of hypnotic subjects to whom I
gave suggestions that they have OOBEs. They had extremely vivid
experiences of being out of their bodies. As part of the experience,
however, I told them to float across the hall into the next room and
tell me what was in there. Even though they vividly experienced
being in that room, their descriptions of w'hat was in that room bore
no particular relationship to what was actually there. So an OOBE
can certainly be experientially real, at least in some cases, without
it implying it is objectively real in any sense.

For a long time Monroe wanted to believe that his OOBEs were
just some kind of special subjective kind of state. That was the only Monroe s
acceptable explanation for a normal, American businessman who initial
valued his sanity—except that his OOBEs seemed so damn real! belief
He kept coming back to that. Many people who have OOBEs work about
very hard afterwards to explain away the fact that they seem so real, OOBEs
reasoning that since it can't be real, the feeling of its immediate
reality must be some kind of illusion. As a psychologist, I’ve
always been fascinated by the way we try to talk ourselves out of
the reality of unusual experiences.

Fifth Hypothesis

So let’s look as a fifth hypothesis, then, that in an OOBE, the mind


is somehow literally out of the body and is located somewhere else
in the physical world from where the physical body is. This is a
traditional explanation in terms of human history, in that people
who have had OOBEs usually say, “Yes, my mind went out of my
body. It was someplace else.” This was the “common sense” expla­
nation before we developed belief systems that ruled out that
obvious interpretation of experience. This kind of experience is
also the basis of a belief in a soul. People have a direct experience of
mind being, existing outside the body.

Could the OOBE possibly be objectively real? Let me mention


another experience of Monroe’s:

Sept. 10, 1958 Afternoon. Again, I floated upward, with the intent of
visiting Dr. Bradshaw and his wife. Realizing that Dr. Bradshaw was ill

Toward the Objective Exploration of Non-Ordinary Reality 61


in bed with a cold, I thought I would visit him in the bedroom which
was a room I had not seen in his house, and if I could describe it later,
could thus document my visit.... Then I came upon Dr. and Mrs.
Bradshaw. They were outside the house, and for a moment I was
‘ confused, as I had reached them before I got to the house. I didn’t
understand this because Dr. Bradshaw was supposed to be in bed. Dr.
Bradshaw was dressed in light overcoat and hat, his wife in a dark coat
and all dark clothes. They were coming toward me, so I stopped. They
seemed in good spirits and walked past me unseeing, in the direction of
a smaller building, like a garage, Brad trailing behind as they walked.

I floated around in front of them, waving, trying to get their attention


without result. Then, without turning his head, I thought I heard Dr.
Bradshaw say to me, “Well, I see you don’t need help any more.”
Thinking I had made contact, 1 dove back into the ground (?), and
returned to the office, rotated into the body, and opened my eyes.
Everything was just as I had left it. The vibration was still present, but
I felt I had enough for one day.

We phoned Dr. and Mrs. Bradshaw that evening. I made no statement


other than to ask where they were between four and five that afternoon.
.. . Mrs. Bradshaw .. . stated that roughly at four twenty-five they
were walking out of the house toward the garage. She was going to the
post office, and Dr. Bradshaw had decided that perhaps some fresh air
might help him and had dressed and gone along. ... I had come back
from my trip to them at approximately four twenty-seven. I asked what
they were wearing. Mrs. Bradshaw stated she was wearing black slacks
and a red sweater which was covered with a black car coat. Dr.
Bradshaw was wearing a light hat and a light-colored topcoat. However
neither "saw” me in any way, or were aware of my presence. Dr.
Bradshaw had no memory of saying anything to me. The great point is
that I had expected to find him in bed, and I didn’t (Monroe, 1971, pp.
46-47).

no Monroe had a lot of experiences like this over the years, although
way they were greatly outnumbered by the experiences where he
for seemed to be in the physical world while out of the body, but there
Monroe was simply no way of checking its validity. An example is finding
to yourself on an unknown street comer in the middle of the night, for
check a minute, and then it’s over—an event very difficult to validate. In
validity any case, Monroe came to believe that, sometimes at least, he was
literally out of his body and mentally/perceptually located at some
other location in the physical world. He could verify his percep­
tions against a later physical check of that location.

Yet Monroe also frequently had incorrect elements as part of his


perception. During the above OOBE, for example, he distinctly
heard his friend, Dr. Bradshaw, tell him that he realized that he was
perceived as present in an out-of-the-body fashion. But Dr. Brad­
shaw had no memory of this whatsoever. So, even in cases where
sometimes there’s striking correspondence with the physical
world, you can also have things that don’t match.

62 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27. No. 1


I once did a long-distance study with Monroe (Tart, 1967), telling
him that at some random time in the next eight hours I would
mentally try to help him visit my home across the country, in an
OOBE, and that he should write an account of any experience he
had. His account of the experience was totally wrong in terms of
the description of my home, which he had never seen. His timing
was within the minute of the random time that came up for feeling
his visit there. I hardly know what to make of that. Similarly, in the
laboratory studies I was able to do with him, he couldn’t quite do Monroe
the definitive sorts of things involving cognizing some target in the in
physical world that he couldn’t see through normal channels, and the
yet he correctly reported unexpected elements. These results were laboratory
hard to dismiss and yet too limited to prove anything conclusively. studies

Sixth Hypothesis

A sixth hypothesis is that OOBEs are just subjective; it’s just


chance correspondences with the physical world that create a false
impression that the mind was actually “out.” That may certainly be
the case sometimes. You can have purely subjective OOBEs, as I
illustrated in describing my hypnotic OOBEs above. As 1 have
said, though, Monroe had many evidential OOBEs over the years
that convinccd him that sometimes he actually was at the out-of-
body location. There are many cases of spontaneous OOBEs with
other people that are like that.

To give you an example that made a great impression on me, some


years ago (Tart, 1968) I met a young woman who had had OOBEs
spontaneously all of her life since childhood. She had thought they
were a normal part of sleep, that you go to sleep, you dream, you
float near the ceiling, look at your boring body lying asleep in bed
for a minute, dream, get up, and go to school. I was able to have her
spend some time in the laboratory where I measured her brain wave
and other physiological activity. Also, after she was in bed, I would
put a five-digit random number on a shelf up near the ceiling and
tell her that if she happened to float out, “Please memorize the
number, wake up, and tell me about it.”

Miss Z, as 1 called her, had several OOBEs over her four nights in
the laboratory but usually reported that she had not been able to
control her position and so had not been able to see the target
number. On the one occasion she said she had been able to float up
and see the number, she correctly told me that the number was
25132. To guess a five-digit number correctly on the first try has
one hundred thousand to one odds against chance. There aren’t a
lot of parapsychological studies with this kind of level of results,
but, on the other hand, studying OOBEs is not exactly a national
priority.

Toward the Objective Exploration of Non-Ordinary Reality 63


Seventh Hypothesis

A seventh hypothesis is that the “out of the body” is just subjective,


the experiencer’s mind is still “in” her brain conjuring up an
illusion of being “out,” but occasionally there’s some unwitting
ESP involved in the OOBE, and the hallucinatory details happen to
correspond to the physical world. This criticism has been made of
my study with Miss Z. People would ask, “Did you know the
number?” and when I would reply “Yes,” they say, “Oh, it was just
telepathy.” The experimental methodology is not advanced enough
to rule out mere telepathy at this point!

So it is possible to conceptualize OOBEs as “it is still all in your


head,” as it were, but that sometimes there are extrasensory ele­
ments that make that otherwise illusory construction of being “out”
work well. This raises interesting psychological and philosophical
questions questions about how you ever decide “where” you are located,
coming questions which will become especially interesting with the rapid
out of advances of computer-generated virtual reality. In virtual reality,
computer you can have the very real experience of being someplace else from
generated where your physical body is, a fascinating phenomenon I have
virtual discussed elsewhere (Tart, 1991).
reality

Eighth Hypothesis

Two more hypotheses may be considered. Number eight is that in


some OOBEs, the person is really “out” but selectively tuned to
perceive both physical and perhaps “nonphysical reality.” This
experience is associated with a curious phenomena such as Monroe
(and others) have experienced, namely visiting someone while out
of the body and correctly describing the physical location that was
unknown to the visitor, while having his experience of the person
visited communicating back to him. Later, however, in ordinary
consciousness, the person says, “Why, you must be crazy! Yes, I
was at that location during that time, but no, I had no awareness of
you being there.” This kind of experience was very frustrating to
Monroe and raised the questions, “Was he crazy? Were they crazy?
What was going on?”

Finally, just to make things a little more complicated: some of


Monroe’s OOBEs seemed to take him to a nonphysical reality that
seemed to have an independent existence. So, for instance in late
1958, he writes:

11/5/58 Afternoon. The vibrations came quickly and easily. ... I tried
to lift out the physical with no result. Whatever thought or combination
I tried, I remained confined right where I was. I then remembered the
rotating trick, which operates just as if you are turning over in bed. I

64 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


started to turn and recognized that my physical was not “turning” with
me. I moved slowly; after a moment I was “face down,” or in direct
opposition to the placement of my physical body. The moment I
reached this 180° position ... there was a hole. That’s the only way to
describe it. To my senses, it seemed to be a hole in a wall which was
about two feet thick and stretched endlessly in all directions. . . . The
periphery of the hole was just precisely the shape of my physical body.
... I moved cautiously through the hole, holding on to its side...
(Monroe, 1971, 86-87).

During the next couple of years, over a dozen times, Monroe went
through that hole. To him it was a repeatable experiment. He waited
for the vibrations, did the action that created the feeling of rotating
180°, a hole would appear, and he would go through it. The place he
went to had recognizably similar and stable characteristics each
time. He called it, “Locale III.” He could wander around there, Monroe's
invisible to the inhabitants of that world. Remember, to Monroe, Locale III
the reality of Locale III would be like what any of us could
experience by stepping out of a hotel for a few minutes, wandering
around, looking at some things, and coming back. If we went out
again, and looked at the same area, it would be pretty much the
same place. That’s what it was like for Monroe.

He reported that Locale III had a lot of stable characteristics that


were similar to those of our own, ordinary world. It was a physical
matter world. There were trees, houses, people, artifacts, all the
appurtenances of a reasonably civilized society. There were homes,
families, businesses; people worked for a living; there were roads;
vehicles traveled on the roads, and so forth. And yet it also had
quite stable characteristics which were not similar to our world. For
instance, he saw nothing that would suggest any kind of electrical
devices. No telephones, no electric lights, no TV. He saw no
internal combustion devices, nothing that looked like it ran on
gasoline or oil or anything like that. But there was mechanical
power in use. For example, he reported:

... Careful examination of one of the locomotives that pulled a string of


old-fashioned looking passenger cars showed it to be driven by a steam
engine. The cars appeared to be made of wood, the locomotive of metal,
but of a different shape than our now obsolete types. The track gauge
was much smaller than our standard track spacing, smaller than our
narrow-gauge mountain railways.

I observed the servicing of one of the locomotives in detail. Neither


wood nor coal was used as a thermal source to produce steam. Instead,
large, vatlike containers were carefully slid from under the boiler,
detached, and rolled by small cart into a building with massive thick
walls. The containers had pipelike protuberances extending from the
top. Men, working behind shields, performed the removal, casually
cautious, and did not relax their automatic vigilance until the contain­
ers were safely in the building and the door closed. The containers were

Toward the Objective Exploration of Non-Ordinary Reality 65


“hot,” either through heat or radiation. The actions of the technicians all
seemed to indicate the latter.

The streets and roads are different, again principally in size. The "lane”
on which vehicles travel is nearly twice as wide as ours. Their version
of our automobile is much larger. Even the smallest has a single bench
seat that will hold five or six people abreast. ... Wheels are used, but
without inflated tires.... Motive power is contained somewhere in the
rear. Their movement is not very fast, at something like 15 to 20 miles
per hour. Traffic is not heavy ...” (Monroe, 1971, 94-95).

Ninth Hypothesis

What does this mean? Do we need a ninth hypothesis that there is at


least one world that is objectively real in its own right, that appears
physical in some ways but is accessible only by OOBE? Or are
there worlds that are “nonphysical,” whatever that means, but that
objectively exist and arc accessible by OOBE?

Now, it would be easy at this point to say, “April Fool!” but I’m
quite serious about this material. I stress again that I have no doubt
about Monroe’s veracity, cautiousness, and carefulness in trying to
describe his experiences as exactly as they happened. Perhaps he
was “crazy” in some sense, but if so, most of us might be much
more "sane” if we were more like him. These OOBEs did not feel at
experiences all dreamlike to him. They did not feel like imagination or feel
felt unreal in any sense. These were experiences which were as real to
as him (and to thousands of other people who have experienced this at
real, least occasionally) as our sensory experience feels now'. Remember
clear, that, in general, his consciousness felt as clear and as rational, as
rational able to reason, to observe, and the like, as our consciousness feels
as right now.
sensory
experience The conventional response to OOBE reports is that they can’t be
real. “Let’s dismiss them. This is merely one person’s subjectivity,
and the author must be some kind of nut to present this stuff
seriously.” But I think it is more interesting to have a response that
a physicist friend of mine did when he heard Monroe speak on this
many years ago. He said to himself and to me, “This is crazy, but if
even a small part of this is true, this is really interesting. ” Physi­
cists have known for years that creative advances have come from
ignoring the “impossibility” of some idea and simply working with
it because the “impossible” solutions are intellectually interesting.

I invite you to take the attitude that his OOBE material is interest­
ing. Given this, what sort of things could we think about? Are
things like OOBEs and the concept of other worlds within the realm
of scientific and philosophical investigation? Is this some kind of
subjective but archetypal domain built into the human brain? Docs

66 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


the manufacturer of the bio-computer pre-load this stuff in Read
Only Memory, to use a modem analogy for it? Could there be
nonphysical worlds that exist somewhere else in some kind of
objective sense?

I have done a lot of thinking about it over the years, but I am not
going to say much about it because I am more interested in arousing
curiosity. I’ll just briefly mention two lines of thought. First, how
can we train talented people to independently try to explore the
world of nonphysical reality? Clearly, subjective biases and the
ability of consciousness to fabricate in order to reinforce biases and
beliefs can produce similar subjective experiences. But we know a
little bit about trying to reduce the kind of bias that can occur. an
Second, what is the nature of human consciousness that can have invitation
OOBEs? So, I invite you to take the interesting route, as the
physicists say. How do we study such experiences? What can we
make of them? How can we distinguish between the strengths of
the various kinds of hypotheses I have suggested, for describing
OOBEs and similar experiences?

NOTE

1 OOBE is now generally shortened to OBE in the parapsychological literature, on

the theory that the “of” in Out-of-the-Body Experience would generally not be
capitalized.

REFERENCES

Monroe, R.A. (1971). Journeys out of the body. Garden City: Anchor
Books.
Monroe, R.A. (1985). Far journeys. New York: Doubleday.
Monroe, R.A. (1994). Ultimate journey. New York: Doubleday.
Tart, C. (1967). A second psychophysiological study of out-of-the-body
experiences in a gifted subject. International Journal of Parapsychol­
ogy, 9, 251-58.
Tart, C. (1968). A psychophysiological study of out-of-the-body experi­
ences in a selected subject. Journal of the American Society for
Psychical Research, 62, 3-27.
Tart, C. (1991). Multiple personality, altered states and virtual reality:
The world simulation process approach. Dissociation. 3. 222-33.

Requests for reprints to: Charles T. Tart, ITP, 744 San Antonio Rd., Palo Alto, CA
94303.

Toward the Objective Exploration of Non-Ordinary Reality 67


REDISCOVERING NATIVE RITUALS:
“‘COMING HOME’ TO MY SE L F”

Sandra Diaz
Goleta, California

D. Don Sawatzky
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

Rituals are an enactment of a culture’s mythology which is the


basis of its whole existence (Malinowski, 1984; Eliade, 1958).
Apart from teaching the novice about membership, social roles,
and social rules, rituals acknowledge the relationship of the culture
with the cosmos by imitating the biological and physical order of
the universe (d’Aquili & Laughlin, 1979; Moore & Myerhoff,
1977). The way that the society is structured and maintained is
based on that relationship whose nature is dictated by its myths
(d’Aquili & Laughlin. 1979; Eliade. 1958). Through the rituals,
these myths, which permeate all levels of society, are lived myths
(d’Aquili & Laughlin, 1979; Eliade, 1963), and it is this living of are
myths that gives people’s lives significance, meaning, and value lived
(May, 1991; Eliade, 1963). Thus, it makes sense that without those through
rituals which encourage harmony within a society, its members are rituals
not able to meaningfully deal with stressful transitions or “life
crises” as they pass from one stage of life to another because those
very rituals are what help them through difficult times (van
Gennep, 1960). Rituals serve as a buffer, protecting them from
experiencing a disintegration of reality as they know and under­
stand it (McManus, 1979).

In the case of various North American Native peoples, the practice


of many of their cultural rituals historically has been discouraged
and/or prohibited. As a result, some of these indigenous societies’
sense of reality begins to disintegrate, leading to confusion, fear,
and loss of morale and confidence in traditional means of coping
(Laughlin & d’Aquili, 1979). In these situations many Native

Copyright © 1995 Transpersonal Institute

The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I 69


peoples were prohibited from renewing their relationship with the
cosmos and each other through their rituals (and the intended
meaning of the symbols embedded within the rituals are being lost
because the people are prohibited from speaking their language)
(Laughlin & d’Aquili, 1979). They arc no longer within the safety
of the context of the rituals in which connectedness with the
community is facilitated (Imber-Black, 1986). This marks the
beginning of a breakdown of an ideology that had sustained them
(Laughlin & d’Aquili, 1979). With no one there to ensure their
safety and success in going through the ritual, to celebrate with
them once they succeed in making the transition, or to support and
comfort them when they do not, a loss of traditional social identity
is more likely, and assimilation then becomes possible (Laughlin &
a d’Aquili, 1979). Hence, it makes sense that to reverse this process,
return a return to rituals and their underlying myths could encourage and
to facilitate a reconnection of indigenous peoples, their culture, and
rituals the universe (Epes Brown, 1989). The purpose of this research is to
and examine the role of rituals in the lives of one Native woman and
their five native men from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. The research
underlying question being asked is, “What is the experience of Native Indians
myths who have made a decision to learn about their Native rituals?”

APPROACH TO THE INQUIRY

Procedure

The Native style of communication is to tell stories; to present the


data in any other way would be an injustice. In each case, stories
told may be described as self stories in which the storytellers talk
about critical life experiences (Denzin, 1989). The methodological
framework of this study was an adaptation of procedures as­
sociated with grounded theory (Glaser, 1978, 1992). Emphasis
throughout the study was on “emergence” versus “forcing” of
theory (Glaser, 1992), and we chose to not only identify a core
process in the interviews, but also to retain the integrity of the
individual stories.

Participants

The interviewees gave me permission to give them a pseudonym


when quoting their personal stories. These names are Robear (a
Huron Indian from Quebec who also has French and Irish blood),
Andrew (Dene Indian from the Northwest Territories), Tuuk (an
Ojibway Indian from Ontario), Dancing Cloud (a mixed-blooded
Indian who calls himself a “Walker among the three worlds”: the
Native, the Non-Native, and the Mixed blood), Ted (a mixed-
blooded Cree Indian), and Rose (a Cree Indian). All were contacted

70 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


with the help of friends and were chosen on the basis of their past
participation in Native rituals and ceremonies. Issues of informed
consent, confidentiality, voluntary participation, and the right of
the individual to withdraw from the research at any point without
prejudice were dealt with.

Nature of the Interview

The interview was conducted so that the Native way of communi­


cating would be respected. Specifically, I* began the interview by
establishing a context that would encourage this individual to
reflect on Native rituals. Since my interest in particular was on the
process experienced by the individual in rediscovering his/her
Native rituals, I used the metaphor of the “journey” to encourage
him/her to focus on that process. Realizing that the Native style of
communication tended to be non-confrontational and indirect, and the
that silence was also important, I used the narrative form of inter­ Native
viewing in which I asked them to tell me their story, using the style
following as a guide: 1) What are the circumstances that encour­ of
aged you to learn more about your Native rituals?; 2) What are the communication
circumstances that encouraged you to participate in Native ritu­
als?; 3) Tell me about the impact that this re-discovery has made in
your life. How has it affected your life?; 4) Tell me about the
experiences you have had (both positive and negative); 5) Would
you encourage other Native people to rediscover their rituals?

FINDINGS

The following stories1 are about the human struggle to become


whole with the help of culture and tradition—to “come home.”
Although Rose is the only female in the sample, her story was not
substantially different from the others.

The Core Category: ‘“Coming Home’ to my Self”

The process involved in rediscovering one’s Native rituals is con­


ceptualized as ‘“coming home’ to my self,” a phrase used by
several interviewees to describe their personal journeys. The com­
ponents of “‘coming home’ to my self” are 1) exposure to Native
ways of knowing and healing; 2) dealing with the fear with the
unknown; 3) healing through the rituals; and 4) evaluating changes
within oneself.

* The principal author, Sandra Diaz, conducted the interviews. Both authors per­
formed the analysis.

Rediscovering Native Rituals 71


1) Exposure to Native Ways of Knowing and Healing

Learning about Native ways of knowing and healing was not a


conscious decision for all the interviewees. Tuuk, Dancing Cloud,
and Rose did not consciously plan to be at events that had to do
with Native traditions. More often than not, their attendance at
these events was serendipitous. Movement towards Native cultural
ways started with their exposure to the Native world in some form
without any real commitment to identifying with it. Tuuk talked
about going to college and being exposed to people involved in
their Native culture, after being away from it since leaving the
reserve to go to high school. He said, “1 was just around people that
were involved in their culture. I really didn’t pay too much atten­
tion.” Dancing Cloud talked about connecting with his Native roots
when he took courses in Native American studies. He remembered
watching a video on Hollywood’s image of the Indians and re­
called, “ In that course as well as in the literature course, I remem­
ber feeling a lot of anger over how Natives were portrayed, and still
really it wasn’t how I was being portrayed because I still didn’t see
myself as part of that.” Rose talked about how she ended up
training in a Native drug and alcohol treatment center through a
friend who worked there. Although she was exposed to the Native
traditions and Native people, she, too, did not see herself as part of
it in the beginning. She recalled, “... I’d seen all these Indians and
here I am Indian myself, and I walked in there and I thought, ‘Oh,
my God! Look at ’em.... I wouldn’t be caught dead with none of
these.’ And I had a real struggle with that.”

Robear, Andrew, and Ted, on the other hand, consciously planned


to be exposed to Native traditional ways of knowing and healing.
searching Robear recalled searching for an Elder to help him reconnect with
for his roots and said, “My first experience was with a Cree person. He
an was an Elder, and I went up to him and talked to him and told him
Elder about my situation, about wanting to find my roots again and
saying, well. I’m Huron.” Andrew recalled searching for Elders
who could help him understand his pain and said, “... the loss of
family and relationship in a family, that created a lot of those
anxieties and stuff. So then after that I realized there’s more to it, to
look into it, and so that just led on to get more into trying to find
Elders and people that understood those things.” Ted talked about
going to his first healing circle to reconnect with his roots despite
feeling afraid. He said, “I had an opportunity to spend a weekend
workshop. Big snow storm, so I said, ‘No, forget it’ ... and I was
like, ‘I don’t wanna do this.’ But I guess to a degree there was an
underlying thought, ‘What’s gonna happen there? 1 don’t know if I
wanna go there at all.’” Unlike Robear and Andrew, Ted did not
strongly identify with being Native. Although he had expressed
wanting to learn more about his roots to get a better sense of who he
was, and had even journeyed out to attend a workshop that would

72 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995, Vol. 2 7, No. I


bring him closer to his roots, he talked about resisting becoming
emotional during his experience in the healing circle. He recalled,
.. listening to their stories, it’s like ‘Wow,’ so it really got to me
here (points to his heart) . .. [the facilitators] were trying to ...
encourage it but in a gentle manner. ... I just sort of resisted and
shut down. ...”

Meeting Key People

Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose did not go
deeper into the Native world all alone. They met key people who
helped them become more involved with the Native cultural cer­
emonies and rituals. How they met key people varied: at work­
shops, at ceremonies, at learning institutions, at work, through
friends or professors, or through a combination of the above.
Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, and Dancing Cloud connected with these an
key people in a special way, leading to the feeling of an emotional emotional
connection to Native cultural ways. This emotional connection connection
became an important turning point, resulting in a deeper involve­ to
ment in Native traditions. Rose’s turning point came during partici­ Native
pation in the ceremonies. Ted talked about the experience of cultural
participating in the ceremony as being “powerful” but not reaching ways
a turning point that resulted in a deeper involvement in Native
traditions.

Turning Point: Feeling an Emotional Connection with the Native


Cultural Ways Through Exposure to Key People. Tuuk talked
about how he ended up in a workshop on Native traditions given by
a friend of his from the same reserve. He recalled watching his
friend talk about Native values, beliefs, rituals, and ceremonies,
and drawing circles on the flip chart. He remembered how much
more comfortable he was with what was being taught as opposed to
what he was taught about Roman Catholic values and beliefs and
telling himself, “I'vefinally ‘Come Home’." He recalled it being
an emotional experience as he said, “I remember shedding tears.
All this time I’ve been around, I was never really awake. I didn’t
feel comfortable.” He remembered the feeling of belonging as he
said, “... 1 think that this is where I belong. I feel much more
grounded here than 1 ever was at the Roman Catholic Church or at
any of the other institutions.” Unlike Tuuk, Andrew searched for
people who knew about Native cultural ways to help him with his
feelings of “confusion” and “ uneasiness” which he believed had
to do with his experience of going to boarding school. Listening to
an Elder speak for the first time was an emotional experience for
him:

... I can remember the first time that in my 30s when I heard an Elder
really speak ... up until that time, I had never expressed my emotions,

Rediscovering Native Rituals 73


and something in the Elder, the way the Elder had transferred informa­
tion, just, it made me feel something, a very powerful feeling.... I was
feeling very emotional, and normally, I would have found a way to hold
back and not express that feeling, but I knew in my mind that wasn’t
something that I should be ashamed of or be afraid of.... I did speak to
him without holding back how I felt. I cried for the fact that it took me
thirty years to find that.

Robear also made a deliberate attempt to search for someone to


help him. He searched for someone who could teach him about
being Native. He talked about having to travel West to search for
“I his Native roots because his own people have become so assimi­
was lated that their connection with their traditions are relatively non­
so existent. He talked about meeting a Cree Elder and said, “After my
happy. encounter with that Elder, we sat and we spoke for a long time. /
Ah, was so happy. Ah, Home . . . then he introduced me to the
Home” sweatlodge.”

Becoming Involved in the Ceremonies and Rituals

Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose began to be


more involved with the ceremonies and rituals which became a
powerful force in bringing them deeper into the Native world. It
was here that they had to deal with their fear of the unknown. It was
also here that much of the healing occurred. By learning about the
traditions through their participation in ceremonies and rituals,
they came face to face with themselves. While Robear, Andrew,
Tuuk, and Dancing Cloud felt a strong emotional connection with
Native cultural ways when they were exposed to key people, it was
in the involvement in ceremonies and rituals that Rose made an
emotional connection.

Feeling an Emotional Connection with the Native Cultural Wavs


Through Involvement in Native Ceremonies and Rituals

Dancing Cloud talked about going to his Native advisor in a time of


crisis. It was then that she taught him about a ceremony called
“smudging.” He recalled, “. .. And there’s no words that I can use
to explain, but when I did that ceremony, there was some kind of
change. I don’t know how or why. But I felt some kind of connect­
edness with something....” Rose talked about her involvement in
the sweatlodge while she was training at a Native drug and alcohol
treatment center. She recalled, “... we went out for a sweat there,
and it was this woman’s lodge, and I knew somehow that that was
the piece that was missing.. . . And I knew I belonged there and 1
continued going and today I still go.” Robear remembered the
feeling of awe in his first sweat as he recalled, “... they say you

14 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


always remember the first time in anything. Simple.. .. Yet ...
when it’s so simple, how does awe come into the picture, you
know, versus the big cathedral and stuff like that.”

Ted’s experience was different. He talked about his first experi­


ence in being part of a healing circle in the first night of a weekend
workshop he attended but never returning for the rest of it. He
recalled, .. So I guess for me bccause it was new, it was really
scary ... because it was just my first time ... meeting all these
different people ... all strangers.... It was so powerful. You could
feel everything in the room. ”

2) Dealing with the Fear of the Unknown

Needless to say, becoming a part of the Native world involved


feelings of fear because the Native world was an unknown. Going
to a ceremony for the first time was not an easy experience for
Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose. Being
novices, the ceremonies were ultimately a mystery to them. They
did not know what was going to happen or what it was about.
Dancing Cloud, Tuuk, and Andrew talked about going through
periods of self-doubt. Robear, Rose, and Ted talked about their fear
of not being accepted by the other Native people.

Experiencing Self-doubt

Dancing Cloud recalled his first sweat lodge experience. He did not
know anything about it and called himself “a naive urban Indian.”
When he went to the reserve where it was being held, he did not "I
know anyone. He said, “I felt scared as hell. Hell, they’re Indi­ felt
ans. . .. And my friend wasn’t there .. . about five or ten minutes like
before we were supposed to go into the sweat, he pulls in ...” He I
recalled his friend saying to him before he went into the sweat belonged. "
lodge that he was no different from the other Indians. His friend
said to him, “When you go in there, just experience it for what it is.
Don’t question it.” He recalled, “... So ever, ever getting deeper
without ever having any kind of plan but I remember that I felt like
I belonged. I wasn’t judged. It’s like at that time nobody says, ‘You
don’t belong here. You’re white....’ Nobody said anything.”
Dancing Cloud also talked about his experience of self-doubt when
he participated in the Sun Dance. He recalled, “I remember stand­
ing there with my pipe towards the end of the row ... figuring,
‘What the hell am I doing here?’ And the message came extremely
quickly, ‘You belong here. You always were meant to be here.
You're home again.Tuuk talked about his experience of self­
doubt when he went to his first fast and sweatlodgc in the Kootenay
Plains:

Rediscovering Native Rituals 75


They were all saying, “Well, there’s fasting. Do you want to come?”
“Fasting? What do you do?” “Just come,” he says, “You’ll discover it
when you get there.” So I jumped in my car... and we drove into the
sunset.... So, I was, “O.k., here we go,” and I haven’t the faintest idea
why I’m doing this. All I know is that everybody else is doing it. So I’ll
... hell, I might as well get right into it, too.... I remember... people
praying and I was praying. I don’t know why I was there. I was praying
and 1 didn’t know what I was praying for.... Anyway, we were in the
fast four days, and I thought, “This is ridiculous. What am I doing?
Why do you want to do this?”

Andrew recalled his fear of going to his first fast:

So that (the fast) was my first really, beside the sweat, the first
ceremony I participated where I became more involved.... I didn’t
really understand it but it... I felt better. I felt good that I made that
connection, so 1 made a commitment next year to want to fast. .. one
thing led to another and I realized it’s something I had to do ... when
I’m afraid of something, my tendency is to attack it, to get into it, and I
know I was afraid to go to the fast but ... at the same time it was
something that I wanted to experience.

Fear of Not Being Accepted

how Robear, Rose, and Ted talked about their fear of not being accepted
the by other Native people. Robear talked about his fear of not being
ritual accepted because he was “white-skinned.” He talked about how the
helped rituals helped him deal with that:
him
From my experience, the journey has been. I’d call it an arduous
journey. Things don’t come easy, especially when you’re white­
skinned. To find one’s roots, it was scary too. Scary in a sense, am I
gonna be accepted? And it’s still part of that process, still of being
accepted, you know. It never really ends ’cuz you’ll always have I think
ethnocentricity within any group.... I expect to go on a Vision Seek
this summer and then later to a Sun Dance. I’m apprehensive and yet
I’m excited. Apprehensive because again we’re back to two worlds.
Down in Quebec everyone is light-skinned, so there isn’t a problem,
but when you get up here, that becomes a problem. I always have to
deal with that in my mind whether I’m accepted or not. Once I get into
a sweatlodge or smoke the pipe, then 1 know that I am part of it. That
fear goes away.

Rose recalled her fears of not being accepted at the sweat lodge as
she said, “... A lot of times I’d go there and I’d feel like the women
didn’t want me there, that they knew what I did in the past. . . and
they weren’t gonna love me and they weren’t gonna accept me.”
All except Ted continued to participate in the ceremonies despite
the fear and doubt. Ted has just begun his journey. Unlike the
others who have the support of other Native people, Ted does not

76 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


have much contact with Native people. The person who is his
support system is his therapist who is a non-Native person. He said,
“I don’t really have a lot of contact with other Natives. In more
ways than one, I actually try to stay away from other Native people.
That’s just my own little inner personal problem that I have with
that.” He talked about wanting to know who he is as a Native
person but at the same time feeling afraid of not being accepted by
other Native people given that he was raised in “white suburbia.”
He said, “It’s like being Native but not Native, trying to understand
what Native is with groups of other Natives. How are they going to
look at me? I’ll still be that different person. I wanna try to fit in
here. ...”

3) Healing through the Rituals

As they learned more about what it meant to be Native through making


ceremonies and rituals, Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, comparisons
and Rose were able to begin the process of healing the emotional between
pain brought about by being separated from the Native world. A Native
natural part of learning about Nativencss involved making com­ and
parisons between Native and non-Native cultural ways. Another non-Native
part of healing through ceremonies and rituals was facing one’s ways
imperfections.

Learning About the Meaning of Nativeness

Learning about what Nativeness meant through the ceremonies and


rituals was an important part of the healing process because it gave
their lives meaning. Much of the healing occurred with the help of
the ceremonies and rituals because the connections with Native
traditions and Native people were strengthened. Andrew talked
about learning through fasting to appreciate life and to become
more responsible. For him, this was what Nativeness meant:

You really begin to realize the value of where your life’s coming from,
and I think that tradition had helped me understand more about life ...
and the fast made me appreciate what life has given to me. . . . It’s a
different sense of you and the world, I think. And I think that’s what
fasting helped me is to realize that, 1 guess, in a Native sense that’s the
sacredness of life, that these things are giving you life. I guess that this
is why they can say the Earth is your Mother. It is feeding you. It is
giving you that life and it is that appreciation that does ... it does
impact.... You see so much and you understand so much. It makes
you more responsible.... I guess it’s what these rituals like fasting and
Sun Dance does in some ways. Every culture experiences that at some
point in time. They have some kind of ceremony to get you past from
being a child into being responsible in the world.

Rediscovering Native Rituals 77


Robear talked about his sense of Nativeness as “having a rapport
with Creator, Mother Earth, and everything that grows upon it.”
For him, “Our rituals keep us conncctcd to Mother Earth.” Rose
talked about learning that the Earth is alive:

And it was my culture and my identity, where I come from that was
missing. And learning all about... I always wanted to know why the
Earth was the way it was and why there were trees and why there were
the animals and the rocks even, and since I’ve found my culture... like
it was never ... my culture was never lost. It was me and since I’ve
found it. I’m getting all these answers ... even why the little bugs and
just everything is here ... and the power that the Earth has, like
everything’s alive! Everything is alive ... like She’s living.

Dancing Cloud talked about the important place that the circle has
in the meaning of Nativeness as he said, “Like our life is a circle, a
Medicine Wheel. There’s four parts to it. There’s the physical,
emotional, mental, and spiritual. We also travel in a circle in life.”
He talked about Nativeness in terms of Native values such as
“honesty, kindness, caring, sharing, strength, respect” which com­
prise “all the stuff that Native people have always lived by.”

Comparing the Native and Dominant Cultures

As Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, and Rose began to


separating accept their Nativeness, they also began to separate themselves
from from the dominant culture. Comparing the Native and the dominant
the cultures was a natural part of that process where they began to
dominant distinguish what was Native and what was not, what they were and
culture what they were not. Their identity as Native people became
strengthened. They looked at different aspects of Nativeness—
differences in communication styles, religious beliefs, attitude
towards learning, and world view between the Native and the
dominant cultures.

Communication Styles. Robear, Dancing Cloud, and Andrew


looked at how Native people communicate. Robear talked about
the importance of storytelling in Native communication:

When one asks a question, I’ve noticed that we (aboriginal people)


never seem to give a direct answer. The answer to the question is there,
but it’s circular, not linear.... I was at a conference not too long ago
and an Elder was speaking. He talked and just talked, and he had so
much to say in just that talking. Questions were asked and he kept
talking. .. giving an answer to those questions. Now most of the people
there had never associated with a Native storyteller or knew anything
really about the culture except through books. ... And they were
shaking their heads. They didn’t know what he’s talking about.., they
should just listen to the story and let the story permeate, go into their
minds slowly, and the truth will come out of that story. Not look for

78 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


specific points because you’re not gonna get a specific answer. That is
not our way.

Dancing Cloud talked about the importance of listening in Native


communication and why it is that people who want information
from Native people often do not get it:

It’s like they come in with a preconceived set of ideas. A paradigm


that’s totally at odds with Native beliefs and Native ideas. And it’s like
they wonder why nobody ever talks to them. Well, in order to talk, you
have to listen. And I’ve come to realize that listening is an art that’s not
very well understood, and the essence of Native culture and tradition
has always been oral. So there have been people who have been picked
from childhood to be the storytellers.

Andrew talked about the importance of approaching Native people


in the proper manner when asking them to share their knowledge
with you:

.. . They’re willing to share their knowledge if you approach them


properly, and there is a proper way to approach them in terms of giving
them tobacco, bringing food, and stuff like that ’cuz they have suffered
for their knowledge. And I think that if you don’t sacrifice something of
yourself when you ask for something, you lose appreciation, and you
lose a lot when you don’t appreciate what it is that you are given.

Robear talked about learning about silence:

You notice there’s long pauses? In the technological world today, that’s learning
(technology) the governing force really, we don’t have time to think. about
And when we do think, we’re looked upon as being slow, you know, silence
like what's wrong with that person? ... In a European education
system, we were taught to be so questioning, and I had that questioning
and I was always wondering why the Elder would look at me, but he
understood the impatience on my part.. . wanting to know'.

Religious Beliefs. Tuuk compared Native religious beliefs and


Roman Catholic beliefs:

Roman Catholic values and beliefs were really imposed on us as Native


people. It just didn’t sit well with us. I guess their values and beliefs
seemed to me ... I guess we were in trouble. . .. We were in trouble.
There’s all kinds of commandments that you weren’t supposed to
break. What I discovered over the years was that the Roman Catholic
Church was a shame-based religion. And so when I look back at the
Native people, that’s what they are. When I look at them, they’re so full
of shame and guilt and everything else ... where I used to come from,
when I look at what the Roman Catholic Church was doing with their
laying a heavy number on guilt and shame to the people—do this or
you’re going to hell. All those things we used to hear. The whole idea
about religion was sin. When we talk about human beings in the Native
culture, we came in here pure as children of the Creator. I have not

Rediscovering Native Rituals 79


heard any Elder in town or in the country say that when we came into
the world, we were tainted. So that’s the difference in the two pictures.
We came into the world untainted and the way that we believe it is we
are untainted, whereas the Roman Catholic Church tells us that as soon
as you were bom, you were doomed. Sorry, but you’re going to hell
unless you learn your catechism and first communion and confirmation
and all those things and then you might get to heaven. There’s a lot of
fear around. I think that’s what we grew up with—the reality of the
Roman Catholic Church.

Attitude towards Learning. Robear compared the difference be­


tween the two cultures’ attitude towards learning. In his mind,
novices in the dominant world are not given much of an opportu­
nity to make mistakes:

When I first smoked the pipe, I wanted to do it right and you say, “Oh,
how do you do it right?” And yet you’re nervous and you want to show
that you know and yet you don’t want to. It’s sort of like... again we’re
back to the European mindset where you’re not allowed to go into
something being innocent. You have to sort of think, “I know. I know.”
You go, “I could take care of it. No problem.” And all that. So I had to
shake that off. That was ingrained in me through the system.

the World View. Dancing Cloud talked about the differences in the
“Native Native and European world views by telling me a story about what
problem ” the Jesuit missionaries (Marquis, 1916) did to take care of the
“Native problem”:

And there was this Jesuit missionary named Paul Lejeune who wrote a
four-point plan for pacifying or making Native people into no problem
any more. And I remember reading those words and feeling absolutely
chilled. First of all, it was you had to change the gender roles into man
superior, woman inferior as the European model was, whereas with the
Native American at the time, there was gender equality. It’s like there
was respect for each role. And that had to be changed. The next one,
you had to change the societies into one central community, preferably
near a white community so you could teach them. Third one, you had to
introduce the concept of punishment as a teaching tool. In the old ways,
you taught a child by modelling. They would watch you, and if you
were making a basket, they’d watch you do it and then they’d try it. And
even if the kid made a horrible mess of it, it’s like, “Oh, that’s very nice.
Maybe if you tried something like this.” And I firmly believe that there
was no concept of physical punishment. There were things such as
shunning. There were things such as if the child wasn’t doing what he
was supposed to at the dinner table, and he’d been shown a number of
times, they would turn his food basket over, and then he’d have to
figure out what he did wrong.... So it was important to use punish­
ment as a teaching tool (in the four-point plan), and the fourth part of
this was to teach the children separate from the community and the
family. That way if you could separate them, you could teach them the
values and also the child would go back and teach the others. So within
a generation or two, of course, you’d have all these brown-skinned

80 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


people living white values. That’s never worked. It never worked in
1634, and it’s still not working today.

Facing One’s Imperfections

Facing their imperfections through the process of participation in


ceremonies and rituals was the most difficult part of rediscovering
their Native roots. It was generally an unpleasant experience. One
came face to face with one’s imperfections. Andrew talked about
suffering in the fast. Not only was it a difficult experience physi­
cally, it was also difficult emotionally, psychologically, and spiritu­
ally because he had to really face himself. It was through the
suffering that he learned not to take his life for granted. He recalled,
.. You struggle with your fears. You struggle with yourself and
it made me think about different things that I would never have
thought about before now that I look at it. . . H e talked about modern
modem culture not teaching us to appreciate life. Through the fast, culture
he recalled, “. .. I think you suffer. . . I mean you’ve gotta face your not
imperfections I suppose... out of that suffering, I know it enriched teaching
me more even though I’m afraid to learn more, to see more.” us to
appreciate
Tuuk also learned much about himself physically, emotionally, life
mentally, and spiritually through his suffering in the fast. He
realized that he had not been paying attention to these different
aspects of himself and had taken his life for granted. He said,
.. you find out things about yourself.... I think that’s a teaching
... when you’re into fasting and rituals like that, you take in more
teachings, insights.” He recalled one emotional experience during
the fast when he realized that he was the one who left his culture
and he had to take responsibility for it:

... I was praying to the Creator and I remember saying something to


the effect that, “There were times when You seem so far away. Where
are You going?” I was angry. I remember after going through my
dialogue with God and such, I stayed quiet for a while. 1 was looking up
at the sky, and I heard a voice and the voice said, “I have never left you.
I have never left you. I would never leave you.” I remember breaking
down and crying because I realized that, yeah, I’m never alone. It’s
only me who goes away. All the times I left, so yeah. There’s a lot of
times I left. I didn’t care.

Like Tuuk, Rose expressed the same sentiment when she said,
“... my culture was never lost. It was me.”

4) Evaluating Changes Within Oneself

Comparing what they were like before (past) and after (present)
rediscovering their Native traditions and rituals and evaluating

Rediscovering Native Rituals 81


those changes became an important part of the healing process, as
it helped them take responsibility for making those changes and to
feel pride in their accomplishment, reinforcing them to keep up the
work. Interviewees talked about how rediscovering their roots
through learning about traditions and rituals had brought their life
meaning and a feeling of connection to the self, to others, and to
spirituality. Very simply, the changes they experienced were about
“Becoming whole.” As Dancing Cloud succinctly stated, .. Our
life is a circle, a Medicine Wheel. There’s four parts to it. There’s
the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. We also travel in a
circle.”

Becoming Whole

Finding Meaning. Finding meaning was an important change for


interviewees who became very deeply involved in ceremonies and
rituals. The deeper the involvement, the more meaningful life
the became. As Tuuk recalled, .. the Indian way of belief and values
deeper seem to make my life much more stronger in terms of having
the meaning here for me, much more deeper than the way it used to be
involvement, ... much more simple, much more fine.” Andrew talked about no
the longer feeling that there was something missing in his life, when he
more found meaning and enrichment through the rituals and ceremonies.
meaningful He recalled, “I begin to see more meaning to my life. That’s what I
life was looking for that was missing ... it’s enriched my life ... it has
became matured me in a lot of ways that... the education system presently
could not give me....”

Having Connections. Having connections with the self, with


others, and with spirituality was ultimately what participation in
ceremonies and rituals achieved. The more involved they became
in ceremonies and rituals, the more connected they felt and the less
alone they became. They no longer had to go through crises alone.
Dancing Cloud talked about how important being connected to his
roots, to people, and to himself were to him. He talks about having
“a feeling of belonging to something, belonging to a culture that is
older than the hills.” He described his experience of connecting
with his roots as returning to a place where he feels “a part of,
rather than apart from, people,” no longer “dctachcd.” He recalled,
“... I’m a part of... a nurturing way of living ... a part of the
human race.... I don’t feel detached ... I belong somewhere....
I’m accepted for who I am.... I have some knowledge of who I am
as a human being.” Rose also talked about the impact that rediscov­
ering her Native roots has had on her. She has learned to love
herself, her culture, and creation. She said, “... I love who I am ...
if I hadn't found my culture ... I think I still would be lost.... It
was my culture, my identity, where I come from that was missing
. . . like my culture was never lost. It was me....”

82 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27. No. 1


Tuuk talked about connecting with the spiritual, emotional, psy­
chological, and physical aspects of himself through his involve­
ment with Native cultural ways. He talked about how the Native
culture brought “awareness” into his life. He said, "It’s a spiritual
experience. It’s an emotional thing. It’s a psychological thing. It’s
a physical thing. It’s all these four embedded into one. It’s a real
important aspect in my life when I get involved.” Robear talked
about becoming a stronger person who is connected to his roots and
to his people. He expressed, “It’s made me a much stronger per­
son. ... I look at myself in a different way ... I’m not alone
anymore.... Now I'm a strong person with connections. " Andrew
talked about connecting with his Nativeness through the ceremo­
nies. He said, “I always somehow wanted the Native name 1 never
had. So that was, really besides the sweat, the first ceremony ...
and I didn’t really understand it, but I felt better. I felt good that I
made that connection...

DISCUSSION

Rituals have played an important part in the lives of the one Native
woman and five Native men interviewed. The journeys of redis­
covery of Native rituals undertaken by Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, journeys
Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose were not easy. To walk on a path of
that was not previously known, or of which they knew very little, rediscovery
was challenging if not frightening. The stories that Robear, An­
drew, Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose offered reveal that their
journeys of rediscovery took them on a path that would not only
acquaint or reacquaint them with their Native roots, but with
themselves.

Their journeys of rediscovery dealt with more than simply the


question of “What is my heritage about?” Ultimately they had to
deal with the question of “Who am I?” Taylor and Smith (1986)
examined a similar journey. In their analysis of Ahsen’s epic poem,
“Manhunt in the Desert,” they found that the journeyer, a desert
wanderer, “guided by intuition, wilfully approaches the unknown”
(p. 121). In a society that devalues the spiritual dimension, an
individual’s ego and soul are separated (Taylor & Smith, 1986). To
heal that separation, like the six individuals interviewed, s/he
walks on a lonely journey in which s/he encounters forces s/he is
unaware of in everyday life, namely his/her fears (Taylor & Smith,
1986). In delving deep into his/her unconscious, the journeyer
“relies upon imagination to reveal his[/her] personal darkness.
Image then ,.. becomes the support and guide to connect to the lost
soul” (p. 122).

Hence, like the journeyer, these individuals travelled into their


personal darkness to face, explore, and accept the contradictions

Rediscovering Native Rituals 83


within themselves (Loomis, 1960). Jung called this “the realization
of the shadow,” the shadow being the dark side of the ego-person-
ality (von Franz, 1964). In realizing the shadow, the contents of the
unconscious are brought forth into consciousness (Jung, 1971).
Jung (1971) recognized that to attempt to experience this process of
“realization of the shadow,” which is ultimately a self-realization,
was a difficult one because it meant having to come face to face with
the unpleasant contents of the unconscious. However, this process
was a necessary part of the journey if the journeyer was to become
transformed. Like the journeyer in Ahsen’s epic, these six individu­
als make their pilgrimage by way of rituals that attempt to “make
the soul” or, simply put, to become aware of and in touch with the
soul, bringing them closer to becoming whole (Taylor & Smith,
1986). Specifically, this “wholeness” involves a coming together of
the masculine and feminine principles of the psyche as it progresses
towards conscious integration (Cirlot, 1962). A bridge is, therefore,
built between the journeyer’s rational and spiritual selves, resulting
in the journeyer’s vision of a new world (Taylor & Smith, 1986).
Having successfully dealt with the conscious integration of the
contradictions within, the journeyer is transformed. Like a new
child, the journeyer sees the world in a new way.

The journeys undertaken by Robear, Andrew, Tuuk, Dancing


Cloud, Ted, and Rose to rediscover their Native roots offered a way
for them to achieve the sense of completeness and the sense of
greater meaning they could not find in the Dominant world. Redis­
covering their Native roots was a way for them to heal their
“wounded personalities,” the split between their conscious and
unconscious selves.

the By rediscovering their Native roots, they were given the opportu­
opportunity nity to heal that split so that they could reconnect with those
to primordial images which were lost to them with the imposition of
heal the dominant world. They were given the opportunity to learn
the about the myths and the sacred beginnings of the Native peoples
split and to deal with their fear of the unknown within the safe context of
other Native people who would support and guide them. Through
the rituals and the ceremonies, they were given the opportunity to
witness the enactment of the myths and experience the awesome­
ness of the mysterious Universe. Their identities as Native Indians
also became strengthened as they symbolically died and were
reborn as members of the Native cultures. As Robins (1973)
succinctly states, “Rites of passage ... concern identity formation
or change” (p. 1208) by “inculcating in its members knowledge of
behaviors and symbols appropriate to given identities” (p. 1308).
Through the rituals and ceremonies, they were given the opportu­
nity to come face to face with the contents of their unconscious and
with the opposing forces within themselves and to learn to achieve
a balance between them. As they recognized their shadows, they

84 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


were also given the opportunity to learn that they were imperfect
and that it was all right. They were given the opportunity to become
whole as they learned to reconnect with the physical, mental,
emotional, and spiritual aspects of themselves. By facing the dark­
ness and journeying towards their inner center with the help of their
cultures, they found that the Universe was powerful, that their lives
had meaning, and that they were no longer alone. Robear, Andrew,
Tuuk, Dancing Cloud, Ted, and Rose continue to connect with the
authentic paths that have led them “home.” What propelled them
was the feeling that there was something missing in their lives. As
Ted succinctly states:

I’m wanting to learn more about what my Native heritage is all about so
I can get a more complete picture of who I am. I guess that’s the whole
thing right now ’cuz I sort of know who I am, but I don’t know who I am
... so I can have a deeper understanding of the whole picture.... I
guess the impact is that it has me curious. It has me curious, wanting
this, really wanting this. It’s gone beyond need.

What kept them on their authentic paths to home was feeling a authentic
strong emotional connection to the Native cultural ways and find­ paths
ing a Native support network to guide them as they made the to
journey home. For them, “home” meant having a life that had home
meaning and a place to belong. For them, “home” meant knowing
the answer to the question, “Who am I?” and being proud of it.

NOTES

1The interviews were audiotaped, then transcribed to begin data analysis. The steps

outlined in the grounded theory approach were closely followed with the six
individuals so that it went from paraphrasing to open coding to axial coding to
selective coding to grounded theory. Analysis was done paragraph by paragraph.
Any biases, judgments, values, and preconceptions were documented with the help
of memos, diagrams and a research journal, and “bracketed” throughout the research
process (Quartaro, 1986). I divided the interview into meaning units which were
paraphrased. The codes were chosen for each unit. In choosing a code, I stayed as
close to the data as possible. The codes were transferred to 3x5 index cards and were
sorted into what I thought were appropriate clusters. The codes that did not seem to
belong anywhere were examined again together with the corresponding meaning
units and original transcript. Where necessary, either new codes were selected to
better capture the meanings or if they were deemed similar enough to existing codes,
they were absorbed under those codes. This process was repeated until all codes fell
into particular clusters and no stragglers were left. The clusters were then examined
and themes identified. The final step involved the assignment of a “name” to the
overall process. After the completion of transcription and analysis of the interviews,
interviewees were contacted to show them what I had done so far and to get
feedback. No further analysis was performed when the analyses shown to the
individuals were approved.

REFERENCES

Cirlot, J.E. (1962). A dictionary of symbols. New York: Routledge &


Kegan Paul Ltd.

Rediscovering Native Rituals 85


d’Aquili, E.G. & Laughlin, Jr., C.D. (Eds.) (1979). The spectrum of
ritual: A biogenetic structural analysis. New York: Columbia Univer­
sity Press.
Denzin, N. K. (1989). Interpretive biography. Newbury Park: Sage.
Eliade, M. (1958). Rites and symbols of initiation: The mysteries of birth
and rebirth. New York: Harper & Row.
Eliade, M. (1963). Myth & reality. New York: Harper & Row.
Epes Brown, J. (1989). Becoming part of it. In D.M. Dooling & P. Jordan-
Smith (Eds.), I become part of it (pp. 9-20). New York: Parabola
Books.
Glaser, B.G. (1978). Theoretical sensitivity. Mill Valley, CA: Sociology
Press.
Glaser, B.G. (1992). Emergence versus forcing: Basics of grounded
theory analysis. Mill Valley, CA: Sociology Press.
Imber-Black. (Coppersmith), E. (1986). Odysseys of a learner. In D.E.
Efron (Ed.), Journeys: Expansion of the strategic-systemic therapies
(pp. 3-29). New York: Bruncr/Mazel.
Jung, C.G. (1971), The portable Jung. New York: Viking Press.
Laughlin, Jr., C.D. & d’Aquili, E.G. (1979). Ritual and stress. In E.G.
d’Aquili, C.D. Laughlin, Jr., & J. McManus (Eds.), The spectrum of
ritual: A biogenetic structural analysis (pp. 280-317). New York:
Columbia University Press.
Loomis, E.A. (1960). The self in pilgrimage. New York: Harper.
Malinowski, B. (1984). The role of myth in life. In A. Dundes (Ed.),
Sacred narrative (pp. 193-206). Berkeley: University of California
Press.
Marquis, T.G. (1916). Jesuit missions: A chronicle of the cross in the
wilderness. Toronto: Brook & Co.
May, R. (1991). The cry for myth. New York: W.W. Norton.
McManus, J. (1979). Ritual and human social cognition. In E.G. d’Aquili,
C.D. Laughlin, Jr. & J. McManus (Eds.), The spectrum of ritual: A
biogenetic structural analysis (pp. 216-48). New York: Columbia
University Press.
Moore, S.F. & Myerhoff, B.G. (1977). Secular ritual. Amsterdam, The
Netherlands: Van Gorcum, Asscn.
Quartaro, G.K. (1986). The grounded theory method: A review of the
method's impact on research and some reflections on the role of the
researcher. Paper presented at the Fifth International Human Sciences
Research Conference, University of California, Berkeley.
Robins, R. H. (1973). Identity, culture and behaviour. In J.J. Honigmann
(Ed.), Handbook of social cultural anthropology, (pp. 1199-222). Chi­
cago: Rand, McNally & Co.
Taylor, R.E. & Smith, L. (1986). A transformational journey into inner
emptiness in Akter Ahsen’s epic poem Manhunt in the Desert. Journal
of Mental Imagery, 10(2), 121-26.
van Gennep, A. (1960). The rites of passage. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press.
von Franz, ML. (1964). The process of individuation. In C.G. Jung (Ed.),
Man and his symbols, (pp. 157-254). New York: Dell.

Requests for reprints to: Sandra Diaz, 7260 Davenport Road, #106, Goleta, CA
93117.

86 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


ZEN M EDITATION: A PSYCHOANA LYTIC
CONCEPTUALIZATION

George Leone
Helen, New Mexico

INTRODUCTION

Zen and psychoanalysis are both powerful ways to understand the


human condition and problems of everyday living. Both of these
disciplines have been examined comparatively by several authors.
Fromm, Suzuki, and DeMartino (1960) presented a classic attempt
to relate both approaches to each other through a dialogue. More
recently, Karen Homey’s interest in comparing Zen and psycho­
analysis has been described (DeMartino, 1991).

This paper takes a slightly different course by using the concepts of


classical psychoanalysis, as presented by Freud, to illuminate the
dynamics of Zen meditation. The question posed here is, what
occurs in Zen meditation as understood psychoanalytically? In
attempting to answer this, some practical implications will be using
considered. the
concepts of
classical
THE PRACTICE OF ZEN psychoanalysis
to
In the Zen tradition there are two major forms of practice which illuminate
have come down to our time. These are the Soto and the Rinzai Zen
schools. The Soto way, founded by Dogen Zenji (1200-1253),
stressed the practice of Zen as simply sitting in zazen (sitting
meditation). In zazen one’s consciousness is focused solely on the
posture and breathing. Whenever thoughts or feelings arise, the
mind just notes their emergence, allows them to come and go, and
returns its attention to the posture and breathing (Suzuki, 1970). In
this tradition, the goal is simply to allow the self to resume its
original state. In Zen this is called one’s true nature. Through

Copyright © 1995 Transpersonal Institute

The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1 87


regular zazen, the self gradually comes to not be as preoccupied
with its daily round of worries and striving. Its true nature becomes
more present, first in the act of zazen and later in every act of life.
As Suzuki said, “Just remain on your cushion without expecting
anything. Then eventually you will resume your own true nature.
That is to say, your own true nature resumes itself” (p. 49).

What is our true nature? Suzuki was quite succinct about this.
“True nature is watching water” (p. 134). In other words, our true
nature is the functioning of the everyday observing mind. The
everyday sense of observing, however, does not include the reflec­
tive egocentric function. Rather, “True mind is watching mind” (p.
134). Our true nature is not the self we reflect upon, nor is true mind
the mind which reflects upon the self and its experiences. For Zen,
Soto Zen our true nature or true mind, synonymous terms, signify the act of
and simply observing without objectifying that which is perceived.
our That is why, in Soto Zen, single-minded attention to one’s posture
true and breathing, the simplest of activities, is itself the manifestation
nature of our true nature.

As soon as we objectify our experiences of this activity, however,


we become caught up in the self/world dichotomy with its usual
egocentric focus. When that happens, the mind becomes attached
to its own thinking and feeling. This leads to problems because the
mind then tends to take its thoughts and feelings as the true reality
of life. But this is subjective reality only, not the true nature of the
reality of the world. For, as Suzuki said, “Reality cannot be caught
by thinking or feeling” (p. 135). When we take our subjective
reality for the reality of the world, we are likely to encounter
problems of faulty assessments of what is real. To prevent this kind
of confusion from developing in our lives, Zen suggests zazen as
the best way to allow the true mind to resume its original position
as that which simply observes.

In the Rinzai tradition, on the other hand, the emphasis was on a


more expressive manifestation of one’s true nature or, as Rinzai
referred to it, one’s true self. Rinzai Gigen (d. 866) was known for
his force and directness in demanding that his monks work hard to
attain a direct realization of the true self (Schloegl, 1975). He often
tested the depth of their insight with obscure questions, a practice
which became the koan approach to Zen. Koans are irrational
questions which cannot be answered by any appeal to knowledge
or accumulated experience. Their solution can be revealed only
through demonstration. Since koans are always about one’s true
self, the solutions are demonstrations of the degree to which a
person has realized the true self. Through this dynamic method,
Sasaki (1974) said, “Zen is not just meditation or zazen, it is ...
practice or work to manifest self” (p. 50).

88 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


The true self is free from everything. Thus, to manifest oneself in a
true way is to manifest as emptiness, that is, as empty of all content
by which the ego typically identifies itself. Our usual tendency to
name and categorize experience and the self is not at work in the
manifestation of true self. When one realizes and demonstrates
one’s true self in this way, it can also be said that one then unifies
all opposites such as good/bad and beauty/ugliness (Sasaki, 1974).
Thus, the true self is able to fully engage in any situation in life
since the empty self is not attached to any specific conditions in the
world. At the same time, the true self unifies itself around the
situation.

This true self, then, dwells in nothing while simultaneously dwell­


ing in everything (Sasaki, 1974, p. 87). He goes on to say, “When
you look at a flower, you give yourself to the flower. So there will
be no thought, ‘I’d like to have that flower. I’d like to pick that
flower’” (p. 79). The same statement could be made regarding a
man, a woman, a job, or a situation.

Finally, the Rinzai school demanded that we make a continual


effort to live free of our usual egocentric preoccupation.

We all have personal consciousness which looks at things as objects. Rinzai Zen
You have yourself who looks at a pine tree ... as object. That’s why and
you are not perfect. To have perfect consciousness, you have to throw our
your personal consciousness away. Where do you throw it? When you true
are looking at a pine tree, the pine tree is the only place where you can self
throw away your personal consciousness. Throw your whole self into
that tree! In that moment, the pine tree is not the pine tree that you are
observing as object, but a pine tree which contains yourself (Sasaki,
1974, p. 88).

To summarize, the common goal of both the Soto and the Rinzai
schools of Zen is realization, of one’s true nature or true self. The
main feature of the true self is that it transcends the usual subject/
object dichotomies of consciousness. In doing so, the true self is
able to live with equal attention to whatever situation life brings,
because its true nature is to simply watch and observe. It is equally
free of all limitations it places on itself in terms of identity and
preferences, including all subjective realities formed by thoughts
and feelings.

The method for each school appears to differ, however. Dogen


most clearly placed the emphasis on zazen alone.

The most important point in the study of the Way is zazen. Although the
old Masters urged both the reading of the scriptures and the practice of
zazen, they clearly emphasized zazen. Some gained enlightenment
through the koan, but the merit that brought enlightenment came from
zazen (Masunaga, 1971, p. 96-97).

Zen Meditation: A Psychoanalytic Conceptualization 89


Through this practice, he seemed to be saying, there is no room for
the self to maintain itself. Gradually the self fades into its true
nature.

Rinzai, on the other hand, apparently was more interested in an


active attempt to have a direct experience of one’s true self. Yet, in
the end, he also recognized the importance of zazen. For, he told his
monks, “Do not tire yourselves by making up discriminations, and
quite naturally, of itself, you will find the Way. Better it is to have
nothing further to seek, and crossing one’s legs on the meditation
cushion, just sit” (Schloegl, 1975, p. 41).

A PSYCHOANALYTIC ACCOUNT OF ZAZEN

Freud (1960) said that “in each individual there is a coherent


organization of mental processes; and we call this the ego. It is to
this ego that consciousness is attached” (p. 7). In the same work he
said, “The ego represents what may be called reason and common
sense . . ( p . 15). In a later writing, he said that “[the ego] has the
task of self-preservation” (Freud, 1949, p. 15). It seems accurate to
say, then, that the ego’s primary function is to order and structure
its life in such a way as would be best for its own continued well­
being in the world.

It does this by mediating or moderating the expressions of the id in


the world. Since the ego “is that part of the id which has been
modified by the direct influence of the external world ..(Freud,
the 1960, p. 15), the ego always remains partially grounded in the id. It
ego “seeks to bring the influence of the external world to bear upon the
serves id and its tendencies . . ( p . 15), thereby attempting to control the
its id by “transforming the id’s will into action as if it were its [ego’s]
own own” (p. 15). This is the general way in which the ego serves its
interest own interest of self-preservation.

A more detailed account of how this task is accomplished issues


from the way in which the ego transforms the id’s will. According
to Freud (1949), the id is that which “contains everything that is
inherited, that is present at birth, that is fixed in the constitution
above all, therefore, the instincts” (p. 14). He named the two basic
instincts as Eros and the destructive instinct and went on to give the
name of “libido” to the “available energy of Eros” (pp. 21 -22). This
libido originally seeks discharge in the world and thus needs
objects with which to attach or cathect. But since the ego is
originally a part of the id, a portion of libido stays with the ego as it
is differentiated from the id. Thus, where the id’s will is to cathect
to libidinal-(erotic) objects in the world, the ego transforms this
object-choice into ego-objects to better serve the ego’s self-preser­
vation. Freud (1960) pointed out that this “transformation of an

90 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27. No. 1


erotic object-choice into an alteration of the ego is a . .. method by
which the ego can obtain control over the id and deepen its rela­
tions with it. .. (p. 20). Thus, there appears to be two sources of
libido, both of which seek objects but each of which has a different
need of the object. Where the libidinal-object is sought for the
purpose of (erotic) gratification, the ego-object is sought as a
source of ego-identification, the primary basis for self-preserva­
tion.

In Zen meditation there is a deliberate attempt to suspend the


activities of the ego in both its rational, ordering function and in its
function of mediating or moderating the libidinal expressions in
the world. In relation to the latter function, the ego also suspends its
own object-seeking. All these functions are suspended by the Zen
injunction to just sit and attend only to very simple and immediate to
bodily activities, the posture and the breathing. Through this prac- not
tice, the ego-functions have little opportunity to emerge, and when dwell
they do, the Zen student is advised to not dwell on the ego’s on the
activities, with the one exception of the observing ego-function. ego's
This function, the attention, is to always be brought back to the activities
posture and the breathing. Furthermore, the practitioner is not to
attach to any thoughts or feelings as they arise. Finally, if the koan
is used, the ego is further frustrated in its rational function.

When the ego is frustrated in fulfilling its natural functioning, it


can be assumed that it will regress. Freud (1949) indicated that
regression is one of the ego’s defenses against a task which it is
prevented from performing. The ego regresses to a former, i.e.,
more primordial, way of being. This results in the diminishment of
the ego’s goal of obtaining ego-objects as it approaches its original
state of an undifferentiated id-ego. At the same time, the libido’s
goal of seeking its objects rises to primary status. But something
happens to the eroticized nature of libido as the result of losing the
ego’s involvement with libidinal energy. The libidinal force be­
comes dcsexualizcd and functions as pure Eros, or lifc-cncrgy.

The libido, then, no longer has any need to remain cathected to any
one object, as was the case when the ego was involved. For, in
seeking objects with which to identify, the ego’s influence on the
libidinal cathexis of objects was to fix it on certain object-choices.
Libido, however, by itself is non-discriminatory and equated with
life itself (Freud, 1961). Libido, thus, forms the core of our being
(Freud, 1949), and in seeking objects with which to cathect, with­
out becoming fixated on them, it seems equivalent to the Zen state
of “watching water” and of “dwelling in everything.”

This notion implies that there is a degree of consciousness which is


not attached to the ego. Freud (1960) suggested this when he said
that the “ego is first and foremost a bodily ego; it is not merely a

Zen Meditation: A Psychoanalytic Conceptualization 91


surface entity, but is itself the projection of a surface” (p. 16). This
statement was elaborated in a footnote: “The ego is ultimately
derived from bodily sensations, chiefly from those springing from
the surface of the body” (p. 16, n. 1). Prior to that, he stated: “All
perceptions which are received from without (sense-perceptions)
and from within—what we call sensations and feelings—are con­
scious from the start” (p. 9). Here Freud is implying that the body is
the true seat of consciousness and that its sense organs, especially
of sight and hearing, are the body’s modes of consciousness. When
this is compared to statements made by the Zen Master Bankel
(1622-1693), there is an apparent similarity.

The Unborn Buddha Mind is just like this. It’s natural that you see and
hear things, whatever they are, when you deliberately try to see and
hear them; but when you see and hear things that you hadn’t originally
anticipated seeing or hearing, it’s through the dynamic of the Buddha
Mind that everyone of you has. That’s what’s meant by the Unborn
Buddha Mind (Haskel, 1984, p. 34).

When the ego has regressed through its inactivity in Zen medita­
ego tion, it resumes its original nature in and as the id. This means also
resumes in and as the body. In this state, the libido is strictly life affirming,
its for in this undifferentiated state, the destructive impulses are neu­
original tralized by the libido (Freud, 1949). Its fixation in the erotogenic
nature zones is removed as it resumes its seat in the bodily senses in
general. Thus, seeing and hearing become as much a way of
libidinal cathexis with objects as were the more sexualized forms
coming from the oral, anal, and genital regions. In fact, a case could
be made for the primacy of sight and hearing cathexes over the
erotogenic ones where the preservation of the organism is con­
cerned. For, after all, we make our way through the world, organis-
mically speaking, more by means of sight and hearing than by our
sexuality.

CONCLUSION

The libido appears to be that psychical function through which we


are connected to the world. It is into the libido that the ego
regresses from its more conscious concern with the self-preserva­
tion of the organism. However, just as the ego-libido rejoins ob-
ject-libido in the regression, so too does the consciousness which
belonged to the ego become a part of the consciousness which
resides in the senses.

It may be helpful at this point to describe this dynamic in phenom­


enological and existential terms to see some of the practical impli­
cations. The libido’s function of connecting the organism to the
world through the consciousness of the senses is similar to the

92 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. I


existential concept of consciousness per se. The function of con­
sciousness is to help the individual survive in the world by provid­
ing it with the awareness of the world as the place in which it lives.
Thus, through consciousness, the world as a field of objects is
presented to the individual, thereby giving the individual organism
the existential grounding in the world. Through being grounded in
the world, the organism is simultaneously in direct connection with
the world through the senses.

At the same time as consciousness highlights the world’s objects to


the individual, the individual becomes aware of itself as an indi­
vidual being. It is through the awareness of the object that the
individual becomes aware of itself as a subject, that is, as a self.
Consciousness then can look upon the self in the same way as it
looks upon the world’s objects, and the self appears to be separate
and in opposition to the world.

Thus, in relation to consciousness, the self and the object have a


different status. The object is revealed in consciousness as “out
there,” while the self appears to be that which is within conscious­
ness. In this way, though the object of consciousness changes with
its intentionality, the self which looks out through consciousness
remains the same. The self which resides in consciousness is not
equated with consciousness since it itself can be an object of
consciousness. This description is similar in dynamics to the ego
which returns to reside in the libido from where it emerged in the
first place.

Existential consciousness and the self residing in it can legiti­ replacing


mately replace the concept of libido and ego respectively, both in the
their structural relation to each other and in their dynamic function­ concept
ing. This reframing may be useful in application of these concepts of
to counseling, psychotherapy, and other human services. To see libido
these dynamic functions expressed in more existential terms may and
help to bring a clearer focus in such applications. Where libido and ego
ego were at best coexisting with each other, in the existential
understanding there is a self which is at best trying to coexist with
the world. Consciousness is the tool which this self uses. Self is
seen as unified from the start but initially attempting to find itself in
the world. The conflict is not internal, as it is with the id-ego
dichotomy within the psyche. It is, rather, a conflict which has from
the beginning been an attempt of the self to see itself reflected by
the world. Only after the self has come to the point of realizing that
it is not, and never really has been, in the world, does it use the tool
of consciousness to look within for its true nature.

Zen Meditation: A Psychoanalytic Conceptualization 93


REFERENCES

DeMartino, R. (1991). Karen Homey, Daisetz T. Suzuki, and Zen Bud­


dhism. American Journal of Psychoanalysis, 51(3), pp. 267-83.
Freud, S. (1949). An outline of psychoanalysis (J. Strachey, Transl.). New
York: W. W. Norton. (Original publication, 1940).
Freud, S. (1960). The ego and the id (J. Strachey, Transl). New York:
W.W. Norton. (Original publication, 1923).
Freud, S. (1961). Civilization and its discontents (J. Strachey, Transl.).
New York: W.W. Norton. (Original publication, 1930).
Fromm, E., Suzuki, D.T. & DeMartino, R. (1960). Zen Buddhism and
psychoanalysis. New York: Harper Colophon Books.
Haskel, P. (1984). Bankei Zen: Translations from the record of Bankei.
New York: Grove Weidenfeld.
Masunaga, R. (1990). A primer of Soto Zen. Honolulu: University of
Hawaii Press.
Sasaki, J. (1974). Buddha is the center of gravity. San Cristobal, NM:
Lama Foundation.
Schloegl, I. (1976). The Zen teaching of Rinzai. Berkeley: Shambhala.
Suzuki, S. (1970). Zen mind, beginner's mind. New York: Weatherhill.

Requests for reprints to: George Leone. Ph.D., 352 Gorman Avenue, Belen NM
87002.

94 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


BOOK REVIEWS

Transpersonal psychology is blessed with many creative authors who generate an abun­
dance of new work. Their contributions also endure, not only in the twenty-seven years of
this Journal, but also in significant updates of their books. This brief overview focuses on
eight such texts that continue to shape transpersonal theory and practice.

Charles Tart’s Transpersonal Psychologies (1975, Harper) was the first major work to
systematically examine multiple spiritual paths from a transpersonal perspective. A 1983
second edition was followed by the third edition (1992, HarperCollins) that dropped a
chapter on Arica training and added a subtitle, Perspectives on the Mindfrom Seven Great
Spiritual Traditions. Another “multiple-path” guide, with origins in the author’s early JTP
articles, is Daniel Coleman’s The Varieties of the Meditative Experience (1977, Dutton). It
is an informed, practical guide to spiritual practices and disciplines. In the 1988 revision,
The Meditative Mind: The Varieties of Meditative Experience (Tarcher), the author added
a substantial new section on the psychology of meditation.

Predating this Journal’s emergence in 1969 is Huston Smith’s classic. The Religions of
Man (1958, Harper) which sold one-and-a-half million copies. It is completely revised and
updated as The World’s Religions (1991, HarperSanFrancisco) and is lauded for its
luminous and human treatment of religions. For twenty years, a personality course
textbook by James Fadiman and Robert Frager, Personality and Personal Growth, has,
through three editions (1976, 1984, 1994, HarperCollins), incorporated increasing trans­
personal content. This lively text includes the classic and more recent theorists, a section
on the psychology of women, and adds Eastern systems including Sufism and Islamic
traditions.

In the 1980s, transpersonal literature began to proliferate. Roger Walsh and Frances
Vaughan collected work from sixteen contemporary contributors in Beyond Ego: Trans­
personal Dimensions in Psychology (1980, Tarcher). This serviceable anthology was
replaced by Paths Beyond Ego: The Transpersonal Vision (1993, Tarcher), a radically
revised collection with thirty-seven authors and a sweeping range of perspectives.

In 1986, Frances Vaughan, a psychotherapist, combined transpersonal psychological


theory with exercises in a “practical wisdom” approach. The Inward Arc: Healing and
Wholeness in Psychotherapy and Spirituality (Shambhala). It is now reissued in a second
edition by Blue Dolphin Publishing (1995). When Michael Washburn published The Ego
and the Dynamic Ground: A Transpersonal Theory of Human Development (1988, State
University of New York Press), he argued for a spiral, rather than hierarchical, pattern in
human spiritual development. His revised model appears in a 1995 second edition also
from SUNY Press. Another example of SUNY Press’s impressive list is John E. Nelson's
Healing the Split: Integrating Spirit into Our Understanding of the Mentally III (1994).
This second edition is a courageous, well-referenced foray into the complexities of
madness, creative genius, spiritual experience, and psychotic illness.

There arc, of course, many other contemporary contributors to this literature—Ken


Wilber, Stansilav Grof, John Welwood to note a few—whose work spans decades. All of
these authors, and many to come, are enriching transpersonal psychology with a new,
renewed, and constantly creative energy. —Miles A. Vich

Book Reviews 95
BOOKS OUR Keber, E.Q. (Ed.). Chipping away on earth: Studies in prehispanic
EDITORS ARE and colonial Mexico in honor of Arthur J. O. Anderson and
READING Charles E. Dibble. Lancaster, CA: Labyrinthos, 1994.
Levenson, E.. The ambiguity of change: An inquiry into the nature
of psychoanalytic reality. New York: Basic Books, 1983.
Mayer, J. & Abramson, J. Strange justice: The selling of Clarence
Thomas. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1994.
. . . James F. T. Bugental

Collins, T.C. Comprehensive health care for everyone: A guide for


body, mind, and spirit. Nevada City, CA: Blue Dolphin, 1995.
Harney, C. The way it is: One water, one air, one Mother Earth.
Nevada City, CA: Blue Dolphin, 1995.
. . . Paul M. Clemens

Epstein, M. Thoughts without a thinker: Buddhism and psycho­


therapy. New York: Basic Books, 1995.
Salzberg, S. Lovingkindness. Boston: Shambhala, 1995.
Wilber, K. Sex, ecology, spirituality. Boston: Shambhala, 1995.
. . . Daniel Goleman

Wilber, K. Sex, ecology, spirituality. Boston: Shambhala, 1995.


Wansey, D. The origins of the Mithraic Mysteries. Oxford: Oxford
University Press. 1989.
Men, H. Secrets of Mayan science/religion. Santa Fe: Bear, 1990.
. . . Stanislav Grof

Lackman, B. The journal of Hildegard of Bingen. New York: Bell


Tower, 1993.
Hartmann, E. Boundaries of the mind. New York: Basic Books,
1991.
Winkleman, M. Ethnic relations in the U.S.: A sociohistorical
cultural systems approach. New York: West Publishing, 1993.
. . . Stanley Krippner

Harvey, A. The way ofpassion: A celebration of.Rumi. Frog, Ltd.,


1994.
Salzberg, S. Lovingkindness. Boston: Shambhala, 1995.
.. .John Levy

Kontzevitch, l.M. The acquisition of the holy spirit in ancient


Russia. Platina. CA: St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1988.
Weil, A. Spontaneous healing. New York: Knopf, 1995.
. . . Huston Smith

Wilber, K. A. A brief history of everything. Boston: Shambhala,


1996.
Schachter, Z. From aging to saging. New York: Warner, 1995.
. .. Frances Vaughan

96 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Bogart, G. Finding your life's calling: Spiritual dimensions of BOOKS
vocational choice. Berkeley, CA: Dawn Mountain Press, 1995. noted
Crabtree, A. From Mesmer to Freud: Magnetic sleep and the
roots of psychological healing. New Haven, CT: Yale, 1995.
Cooper, D. A. Silence, simplicity, and solitude: A guide for spiri­
tual retreat. New York: Bell Tower, 1992.
Epstein, M. Thoughts without a thinker: Psychotherapy from a
Buddhist perspective. New York: Basic Books, 1995.
Gold, P. Navajo and Tibetan sacred wisdom: The circle of the
spirit. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 1994.
Goodwin, M. The lucid dreamer: A waking guide for the traveler
between worlds. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1994.
Jarema, W.J. Fathering the next generation: Men mentoring men.
New York: Crossroad, 1994.
Kenny, C.B. Listening, playing, creating: Essays on the power of
sound. Albany, NY: S.U.N.Y. Press, 1995.
Metzner, R. The well of remembrance: Rediscovering the Earth
wisdom myths of Northern Europe. Boston: Shambhala, 1994.
Miller, J.E. What will help me: 12 things to remember when you
have suffered a loss/How can I help: 12 things to do when
someone you know suffers a loss. Ft. Wayne, IN: Willowgreen
Publishing, 1994.
Naranjo, C. Character and neurosis: An integrative view. Nevada
City, CA: Gatcways/IDHHB, 1994.
Rogers, N. The creative connection: Expressive arts as healing.
Palo Alto, CA: Science and Behavior Books, 1993.
Sardello, R. Love and the soul: Creating a future for Earth. New
York: HarperCollins, 1995.
Shelton, C.M. Pastoral counseling with adolescents and young
adults. New York: Crossroad, 1995.
Valentis, M. & Devane, A. Female rage: Unlocking its secrets,
claiming its power. New York: Carol Southern, 1994.
Willis, R.J. Transcendence in relationship: Existentialism and
psychotherapy. Norwood, NJ: Ablex Publishing, 1994.

Books Noted 97
ABOUT THE Tom S. Cleary, M.A., is completing his doctorate in clinical psychology
AUTHORS (December, 1995) at the University of Hawaii. His research for the present
article was conducted over the last three years at U.H. in collaboration with
Professor Sam I. Shapiro. Tom currently resides in Los Angeles.

Sandra Diaz, M.Ed., is a doctoral student in clinical psychology at The


Fielding Institute in Santa Barbara, California. Current interests include
marital/family therapy, the relationship between spirituality and mental
health, and alternative, nontraditional forms of therapy and healing.

George Leone, Ph.D., holds a certificate in Psychodynamic Psychotherapy


from the St. Louis Psychoanalytic Institute. His doctorate is in counselor
education. For the past four years he has taught graduate programs for
counselor training at the University of New Mexico and the University of
Texas at El Paso. He has been counseling since 1979 and practicing Zen
meditation since 1970. Currently he is in private practice of psychotherapy
in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

D. Don Sawatzky, Ph.D., is Professor and Area Coordinator for Counseling


and School Psychology in the Department of Educational Psychology,
Faculty of Education, at the University of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta.
Current interests include counseling psychology, family counseling, and
counselor education and supervision.

Sam I. Shapiro, Ph.D., is Professor of Psychology at the University of


Hawaii at Manoa, in Honolulu. He publishes internationally in various
scholarly journals and teaches courses on a variety of topics related to East-
West psychology. He has held graduate seminars in transpersonal psychol­
ogy and transpersonal psychotherapy at U.H.

Charles T. Tart, Ph.D.. Professor of Psychology at the California Institute


of Integral Studies and at the Institute of Transpersonal Psychology, is the
author of many articles on transpersonal topics (see JTP 1970, 1971, 1976,
1979, 1986, 1990, 1991 #1 and #2, 1993) and numerous books including
Transpersonal Psychologies; States of Consciousness; Waking Up; Open
Mind, Discriminating Mind; and Living the Mindful Life.

Roger Walsh, M.D., Ph.D., is Professor of Psychiatry, Philosophy, and


Anthropology at the University of California at Irvine. His publications
include The Spirit of Shamanism; Meditation: Classic and Contemporary
Perspectives; and two volumes coedited with Frances Vaughan: Paths
Beyond Ego: The Transpersonal Vision and Gifts from A Course in
Miracles.

98 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 27, No. 1


Cleary, Tom S. & Shapiro, Sam I. The plateau experience and the post­ ABSTRACTS
mortem life: Abraham H. Maslow’s unfinished theory.—Not long before he
died in 1970, Abraham H. Maslow, co-founder of humanistic and transper­
sonal psychology and a President of the American Psychological Associa­
tion, began to describe a state of consciousness he called the plateau
experience, an experience that he credited to becoming reconciled to his
death. The plateau experience bears some resemblance to Maslow’s earlier
concept of the peak experience, but is a discrete state of transpersonal
consciousness. Aside from Maslow’s own research, however, the concept
has not been examined by others in much detail. This article characterizes
and explores the concept of the plateau experience more fully, based on
Maslow’s writing on the subject and related topics.

Diaz, Sandra & Sawatzky, D. Don. Rediscovering native rituals: ‘“Com­


ing Home’ to my self.”—This research examines the role of rituals in the
lives of one Native woman and five Native men, using an adaptation of
procedures associated with grounded theory. A model delineating the
process of learning about their Native rituals was subsequently developed
based on these six interviews. This process has been conceptualized as
“Coming Home” to my self, the components of which include: 1) exposure
to Native ways of knowing and healing; 2) dealing w'ith fear of the unknown;
3) healing through the rituals; and 4) evaluating changes within oneself. The
process ultimately deals with self-realization rather than simply with the
issue of what Native ceremonies and rituals are about. How such ceremonies
and rituals help with self-realization is discussed.

Leone, George. Zen meditation: A psychoanalytic conceptualization.—


Zen meditation is a powerful method to encounter a profound existential
dimension of life and potentially to come to experience an egoless state of
being which is active in everyday living. Descriptions of the process
whereby this egolessness emerges have typically been philosophical, reli­
gious, or poetic. This paper examines the Zen experience from the stand­
point of the concepts found in Freud’s structural theory of the personality.
The Zen experience is presented in terms of existential significance which
illuminates the inherent ground of being.

Tart, Charles T. Toward the objective exploration of non-ordinary real­


ity.—Throughout human history some people have had vivid experiences
of their consciousness temporarily being located elsewhere than their
physical bodies, i.e., out-of-the-body experiences (OOBEs). Robert A.
Monroe, recently deceased, was one of the most well known of such people.
His three books have affected hundreds of thousands of readers. This article
presents nine hypotheses, illustrated by Monroe’s experiences, to be consid­
ered as possible explanations. They range from a) psychopathological
fantasy, to b) fantasy combined with ESP, to c) OOBEs as providing
experiential access to nonphysical, but objectively existent, worlds.

Walsh, Roger. Phenomenological mapping: A method for describing and


comparing states of consciousness.—The range, variety and value of
recognized states of consciousness continue to increase and with this has
come an increasing need to more precisely describe, differentiate, map, and
compare them. This paper outlines a method of phenomenological mapping

Abstracts 99
that appears useful for doing this. It then uses this technique to make
comparisons across disciplines by distinguishing states found in shaman­
ism, yoga, and Buddhism and then distinguishing these from the acute
schizophrenic states with which they have sometimes been confused. The
phenomenological mapping method is then used to differentiate states
induced by different practices within a single tradition, in this case Bud­
dhism, and then to differentiate states at different stages of practice.
Discussion then focuses on similarities among disciplines, the questions of
whether a common core mystical experience can be identified, and future
possibilities for more refined mapping of states of consciousness.

100 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol. 2 7, No. 1


BACK ISSUES OF THE JOURNAL OF TRANSPERSONAL PSYCHOLOGY

1969 A rmor , T. A note on the peak experience and a transpersonal psychology. •


Vol. I A ssagioli , R. Symbols of transpersonal experiences. • M aslow , A. The farther
No. 1 reaches ol human nature. • M aslow , A.M. Various meanings of transcendence. •
M aven , A. The mystic union: A suggested biological interpretation. • M urphy , M.H.
Education for transcendence. • S utich , A.J. Some considerations regarding Trans-
personal Psychology.

No. 2 H arman . W. The new Copernican revolution. • L e S han , I,. Physicists and mystics:
Similarities in world view. • M aslow , A.H. Theory Z. • P ahnke , N. & R ichards .
W.A. Implications of LSD and experimental mysticism. • S utich , A.J. The American
Transpersonal Association. • W apnick , K. Mysticism and schizophrenia.

1970 Bla i r , M.A. Meditation in the San Francisco Bay Area: An introductory survey. •
Vol. 2 C riswell , E. Experimental yoga psychology course for college students: A progress
No. 1 report. • G reen , K., G reen , A.M., & W alters , E.D. Voluntary control of internal
states: Psychological and physiological. • T art , C.T. Transpersonal potentialities of
deep hypnosis. • T immons , B., & K amiya , J. The psychology and physiology of
meditation and related phenomena: A bibliography.

No. 2 F adiman . J. The second Council Grove conference on altered states of consciousness.
• H art , J.T. The Zen of Hubert Benoit. • M aslow , A.H. New introduction:
Religions, values, and peak experiences. • R am R ass . Lecture at the Mcnninger
Foundation: Part I.

1971 G oleman , D. Meditation as meta-therapy: Hypotheses toward a proposed fifth state


Vol. 3 of consciousness. • G reen , E.E. & G reen , A.M. On the meaning of transpersonal:
No. I Some metaphysical perspectives. • R am R ass . Lecture at the Menninger Foundation:
Part II. • S utich , A.J. Transpersonal notes.

No. 2 H endrick . N. A program in the psychology of human consciousness. • T art , C.T. A


psychologist’s experience with Transcendental Meditation. • T art , C.T. Scientific
foundations for the study of altered states of consciousness. • V an N uys , D. A novel
technique for studying attention during meditation. • W eide , T.N. Council Grove III:
The third annual interdisciplinary conference on the voluntary control of internal
states.

1972 G oleman , D. The Buddha on meditation and states of consciousness. Part I: The
Vol. 4 teaching. • G rof , S. Varieties of transpersonal experiences: Observations from LSD
No. 1 psychotherapy. • S herman , S.E. Brief report: Continuing research on “very deep
hypnosis." • S utich , A.J. Association for Transpersonal Psychology. • W eide , T.N.
Council Grove IV: Toward a science of ultimatcs.

No. 2 G oleman , D. The Buddha on meditation and states of consciousness. Part II: A
typology of meditation techniques. • K rippner , S. ( ed .). The plateau experience:
A.H. Maslow and others. • R ichards , W., G rof , S., Goodman, L. & K urland , A.
LSD-assisted psychotherapy and the human encounter with death.

Back Issues 101


1973 Grof, S. Theoretical and empirical basis of transpersonal psychology and psycho­
Vol. 5 therapy: Observations from LSD research • Ram Dass. Lecture at the Maryland
No. 1 Psychiatric Research Center: Part I. • Sutich, A.J. Transpersonal therapy. •
Trungpa, C. An approach to meditation. • Vilhjalmsson, G. V., & Weide, T.N. The
first international transpersonal conference. • Weide, T.N. Varieties of transpersonal
therapy.

No. 2 Clark, F.V. Exploring intuition: Prospects and possibilities. • Katz, R. Education
for transcendence: Lessons from the !Kung Zhu/twasi. • Nitya, Swami. Excerpts
from a discussion. • Osis, K-. Bokert, E., & Carlson, M.L. Dimensions of the
meditative experience. • Ram Dass. Lecture at the Maryland Psychiatric Research
Center: Part II. • Weide, T.N. Vallombrosa: A major transpersonal event.

1974 Campbell, P.A., & McMahon, E.M. Religious-type experience in the context of
Vol. 6 humanistic and transpersonal psychology. • Casper, M. Space therapy and the Maitri
No. 1 project. • Clark, F.V. Rediscovering transpersonal education. • Crampton, M.
Psychological energy transformations: Developing positive polarization. • Goleman,
D. Perspectives on psychology, reality and the study of consciousness. • Kennett, J.
Translating the precepts. • Redmond, H. A pioneer program in transpersonal
education. • Timmons, B., & Kanfllakos. D.P. The psychology and physiology of
meditation and related phenomena: Bibliography II. • Watts, A. Psychotherapy and
eastern religion: Metaphysical bases of psychiatry.

No. 2 Bernbaum, E. The way of symbols: The use of symbols in Tibetan mysticism. •
Frager, R. A proposed model for a graduate program in Transpersonal Psychology.
• Jain, M., & Jain, K.M. The samadhist: A description. • Kennett, J. On meditation.
• Ring, K. A transpersonal view of consciousness: A mapping of farther regions of
inner space. • Stat, D. Double chambered whistling bottles: A unique Peruvian
pottery form. • Tarthang Tulku. The self-image.

1975 Augustine. M.J. & Kalish. R.A. Religion, transcendence, and appropriate death. •
Vol. 7 Frager, R. & Fadiman, J. Personal growth in Yoga and Sutism. • Kennett. J.,
No. I Radha, Swami, & Frager, R. Howto be a transpersonal teacher without becoming a
guru. • Ram Dass. Advice to a psychotherapist. • Shultz, J.V. Stages on the spiritual
path: A Buddhist perspective. • Simonton, O.C. & Simonton, S.S. Belief systems and
management of the emotional aspects of malignancy. • Trungpa, C. Transpersonal
cooperation at Naropa.

No. 2 Deatherage, G. The clinical use of‘mindfulness’ meditation techniques in short-term


psychotherapy. • Garfield, C.A. Consciousness alteration and fear of death. •
Goleman, D. Mental health in classical Buddhist psychology. • Hendricks, C.G.
Meditation as discrimination training: A theoretical note.* Maquet, J. Meditation in
contemporary Sri l.anka: Idea and practice. • Wilber, K. Psychologia perennis: The
spectrum of consciousness.

1976 Capra, F. Modern physics and Eastern mysticism. • Sutkh, A.J. The emergence of
Vol. 8 the transpersonal orientation: A personal account. • Tart, C.T. The basic nature of
No. 1 altered states of consciousness: A systems approach. • Tarthang Tulku. A view of
mind. • Vich, M.A. Anthony J. Sutich: An appreciation.

No. 2 Leslie, R.C. Yoga and the fear of death. • Ram Dass. Freeing the mind. • Ring, K.
Mapping the regions of consciousness: A conceptual reformulation. • Singer, J. A

102 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol 27, No. I


Jungian view of biofeedback training. • Walsh, R.N. Reflections on psychotherapy. •
Welwood, J. Exploring mind: Form, emptiness, and beyond. • Williams, R.R.
Biofeedback: A technology for self-transaction.

1977 Erhard. W. & Fadiman, J. Some aspects of est training and transpersonal psy­
Vol. 9 chology: A conversation. • Killer, M. Henry David Thoreau: A transpersonal view.
No. I Welwood, J. Meditation and the unconscious: A new perspective.

No. 2 Anderson, R.M.. Jr. A holographic model of transpersonal consciousness. • Kohr,


R. L. Dimensionality in meditative experience: A replication. • Ram Dass & Steindi-
Rast, B.D. On lay monasticism. • Walsh, R.N. Initial meditative experiences: Part I.
• Welwood, J. On psychological space.

1978 Murdock, M.H. Meditation with young children. • Taylor, E.I. Psychology of
Vol. 1 0 religion and Asian studies: The William James legacy. • Walsh, R. N. Initial
No. 1 meditative experiences: Part II. • Washburn, M.C. Observations relevant to a unified
theory of meditation.

No. 2 Boals, G. F. Toward a cognitive reconceptualization of meditation. • Green, A.M. &


Green, E.E. Some problems in biofeedback research. • Walsh, R.N., D. Goleman. J.
Korneield, C. Pfnsa, D. Shapiro. Meditation: Aspects of research and practice. •
Welwood, J., F. Capra, M. Ferguson, J. Needleman, K. Pribram, H. Smith, F.
Vaughan, R. N. Walsh. Psychology, science and spiritual paths: Contemporary
issues.

1979 Kornfifld, J. Intensive insight meditation: A phenomenological study. • Meadow,


Vol. II M.J., Swami Ajava, I.. Brf.gman, W.H. Clark, G. Green, S. Krippner, L..R.
No. I Rambo, K. Ring, C.T. Tart, K. Wilber. Spiritual and transpersonal aspects of
altered states of consciousness: A symposium report. • Stensrud, R., & Stensrud, K.
The Tao of human relations. • Wei.wood, J. Self-knowledge as the basis for an
integrative psychology. • Wilber, K. A developmental view of consciousness.

No. 2 Boorstein, S. Troubled relationships: Transpersonal and psychoanalytic approaches.


• Trungpa, C. Intrinsic health: A conversation with health professionals. • Vaughan,
F. Transpersonal psychotherapy: Context, content and process. • Walsh, R.N.
Emerging cross-disciplinary parallels: Suggestions from the neurosciences. • Walsh,
R.N. Meditation research: An introduction and review. • Welwood, J. Befriending
emotion: Self-knowledge and transformation. • White, L.W. Recovery from alco­
holism: Transpersonal dimensions.

1980 Bohm, D. & Welwood, J. Issues in physics, psychology and metaphysics: A conversa­
Vol. 12 tion. • Borcoivalas, M. Transpersonal psychology: A working outline of the field. •
No. I Burns, D. & Ohayv, R. Psychological changes in meditating Western monks in Thai­
land. • Drengson, A.R. Social and psychological implications of human attitudes
toward animals. • Jamnien, Ajahn & Ohayv, R. Field interview with a Theravada
teaching master. • Metzner, R. Ten classical metaphors of self-transformation. •
Thomas, L.E. & Cooper, P.E. Incidence and psychological correlates of intense
spiritual experiences.

No. 2 Boorstein, S. Lightheartedness in psychotherapy. • Brown, D.P. & Engler, J.


Stages of mindfulness meditation: A validation study. • Langford, A. Working with
Cambodian refugees: Observations on the Family Practice Ward at Khao I Dang. •

Back Issues 103


Murphy, M. The Esalen Institute Transformation Project: A preliminary report. •
W elwood , J. Reflections on psychotherapy, focusing and meditation.

1981 H idas , A. Psychotherapy and surrender: A psychospiritual perspective. • P eters ,


Vol. 13 L.G. An experiential study of Nepalese Shamanism. • S mith , K. Observations on
No. 1 Morita therapy and culture-specific interpretations. • W ilber , K. Ontogenetic deve­
lopment: Two fundamental patterns.

No. 2 A modko , J. Focusing applied to a case of disorientation in meditation. A mi ndson , J.


Will in the psychology of Otto Rank. • E arle , J.B.B. Cerebral laterality and
meditation: A review. • E pstein , M.D. & I. iefe , J.D. Psychiatric complications of
meditation. • G oleman . D. Buddhist and Western psychology: Some commonalities
and differences. • O'H anlon , D.J., S.I. Integration of spiritual practices: A Western
Christian looks Fast.

1982 A nthony , D. The outer master as inner guide: Autonomy and authority in the process
Vol. I of transformation. • L ieff , J. Fight reasons doctors fear the elderly, chronic illness
No. 1 and death. • V aughan , F. The transpersonal perspective: A personal overview. •
W alsh , R. A model for viewing meditation research. • W ortz , K. Application of
awareness methods in psychotherapy.

No. 2 A itken . R. Zen practice and psychotherapy. • A lpert , R./R am D ass . A ten-year
perspective. • R iedlinger , T.J. Sartre's rite of passage. • S peeth , K. On psycho­
therapeutic attention. • W elwood , J. Vulnerability and power in the therapeutic
process: Existential and Buddhist perspectives.

1983 F riedman , H.L. The self-expansive level form: A conceptualization and measure­
Vol. 15 ment of a transpersonal construct. • G rof . S. Fast and West: Ancient wisdom and
No. 1 modern science. • K omito , D.R. Tibetan Buddhism and psychotherapy: A conversa­
tion with the Dalai La m a . • L ane , D.C. The hierarchical structure of religious visions.
• S hapiro , D.H. Meditation as an altered state of consciousness.

No. 2 B oorstein , S. The use of bibliotherapy and mindfulness meditation in a psychiatric


setting. • G allegos , E.S. Animal imagery, the chakra system and psychotherapy. •
H astings , A. A counseling approach to parapsychological experience. • H enderson ,
B. Self-help books emphasizing transpersonal psychology: Are they ethical? •
H enkin , W. Two non-ordinary experiences of reality and their integration. • K ai . ff ,
M. Negation of ego in Tibetan Buddhism and Jungian psychology. • M urphy , M. &
D onovan , S. A bibliography of meditation theory and research: 1931-1983.

1984 E ngler , J. Therapeutic aims in psychotherapy and meditation: Developmental stages


Vol. I in the representation of self. • K omito , D.R. Tibetan Buddhism and psychotherapy:
No. 1 Further conversations with the Dalai La m a . • W elwood , J. Principles of inner work:
Psychological and spiritual. • W ilber , K. The developmental spectrum and psy­
chopathology: Part I. Stages and types of pathology.

No. 2 A rmstrong , T. Transpersonal experience in childhood. • A sante , M.K. The African


American mode of transcendence. • E pstein , M.D. On the neglect of evenly
suspended attention. • G ross , R.M. The feminine principle in Tibetan Vajrayana
Buddhism: Reflections of a Buddhist feminist. • S hafranske , E.P. & G orsuch , R.L.
Factors associated with the perception of spirituality in psychotherapy. • W ilber , K.
The developmental spectrum and psychopathology: Part 11. Treatment modalities.

104 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1995, Vol 27. No. 1


1985 Boorstein, S. Notes on right speech as a psychotherapeutic technique. • Metzner, R.
Vol. 17 Knots, ties, nets, and bonds in relationships. • Scotton, B.W. Observations on the
No. 1 teaching and supervision of transpersonal psychotherapy. • Sovatsky, S. Eros as
mystery: Toward a transpersonal sexology and procreativity. • Thapa, K. & Murthy,
V.N. Experiential characteristics of certain altered states of consciousness. •
Welwood, J. On love: Conditional and unconditional.

No. 2 Chinen, A.B. Fairy tales and transpersonal development in later life. • Goleman, D.,
Smith, H. & Ram Dass. Truth and transformation in psychological and spiritual
paths. • Lukoff, D. The diagnosis of mystical experiences with psychotic features. •
Lukoff, D. & Everest, H.C. The myths in mental illness.

1986 Butcher, P. The phenomenological psychology of J. Krishnamurti. • Knoblauch,


Vol. 18 D.I.. & Falconer, J.A. The relationship of a measured Taoist orientation to Western
No. 1 personality dimensions. • Rothberg, D. Philosophical foundations of transpersonal
psychology: An introduction to some basic issues. • Russell, E.W. Consciousness
and the unconscious: Eastern meditative and Western psychotherapeutic approaches.

No. 2 Boorstein, S. Transpersonal context, interpretation, and psychotherapeutic tech­


nique. • Chinen, A.B. Elder tales revisited: Forms of transcendence in later life. •
Epstein, M. Meditative transformations of narcissism. • Fleischman, P.R. Release:
A religious and psychotherapeutic issue. • Tart, C.T. Consciousness, altered states,
and worlds of experience. • Welwood, J. Personality structure: Path or pathology?

1987 Dubs, G. Psycho-spiritual development in Zen Buddhism: A study of resistance in


Vol. 19 meditation. • Teixeira, B. Comments on Ahimsa (nonviolence).
No. 1
No. 2 Chinen, A.B. Middle tales: Fairy tales and transpersonal development at mid-life •
Davis, J. & Wright, C. Content of undergraduate transpersonal psychology courses.
• Echenhofer, F.G. & Coombs, M.M. A brief review of research and controversies in
EEG biofeedback and meditation • Lu, F.G. & Heming, G. The effect of the film Ikiru
on death anxiety and attitudes toward death • Meadow, M.J. & Culligan, K.
Congruent spiritual paths: Christian Carmelite and Theravadan Buddhist Vipassana •
Weimer, S. R.& I.u, F.G. Personal transformation through an encounter with death:
Cinematic and psychotherapy case studies.

1988 Chinen, A.B.; Foote, W.; Jue, R.W.; Lukoff, D. & Spielvogfl, A. Clinical
Vol. 20 symposium: Challenging cases in transpersonal psychotherapy. • Epstein, M. The
No. 1 deconstruction of the self: Ego and “egolessness” in Buddhist insight meditation. •
Hiltunen, S.S. Initial therapeutic applications of Noh Theatre in drama therapy. •
Pendzik, S. Drama therapy as a form of modern shamanism. • Wilber, T.K.
Attitudes and cancer: What kind of help really helps?

No. 2 Cumulative Index: The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, Volumes 1-20,


1969-1988. Contents listed by volume year. Alphabetical list of authors. • Lukoff,
D. Transpersonal perspectives on manic psychosis: Creative, visionary, and mystical
states. • Lukoff, D. & Lu, F. Transpersonal psychology research review: Topic:
Mystical experience. • Vich, M.A. Some historical sources of the term "trans­
personal." • Wilber, K. On being a support person.

Back Issues 105


1989 Epstein, M. Forms of emptiness: Psychodynamic, meditative and clinical perspectives. •
Vol. 21 Heery, M.W. Inner voice experiences: An exploratory study of thirty cases. • Roberts, T.B.
No. 1 Multistate education: Metacognitive implications of the mindbody psychotechnologies. •
Shapiro, D. Judaism as a journey of transformation: Consciousness, behavior, and society.
• Walsh, R. What is a shaman? Definition, origin and distribution.

No. 2 Carlat, D.J. Psychological motivation and the choice of spiritual symbols: A case study. •
Lukoff, D. & Lu, F.G. Transpersonal psychology research review: Topic: Computerized
databases, specialized collections, and archives. • Nelson, P.L. Personality factors in the
frequency of reported spontaneous praeternatural experiences. • Peters, L.G. Shamanism:
Phenomenology of a spiritual discipline. • Schavrien, J.E. The rage, healing and daemonic
death of Oedipus: A self-in-relation theory. • Serlin, I. A psycho-spiritual-body therapy
approach to residential treatment of Catholic religious.

1990 Epstein, M. Psychodynamics of meditation: Pitfalls on the spiritual path. • Fox, W.


Vol. 22 Transpersonal ecology: “Psychologizing” ecophilosophy. • Holden, J. & Guest, C. Life
No. 1 review in a non-near-death episode: A comparison with near-death experiences. • Nelson, P.
The technology of the praeternatural: An empirically based model of transpersonal experi­
ence. • Welwood, J. Intimate relationship as path.

No. 2 Hughes, D. & Melville, N. Changes in brainwave activity during trance channeling: A pilot
study. • Lukoff, D., Zanger, R. & Lu, F. Transpersonal psychology research review:
Psychoactive substances and transpersonal states. • Tart, C. Adapting Eastern spiritual
teachings to Western culture: A discussion with Shinzen Young. • Waldman, M. Reflections
on death and reconciliation.

1991 Doblin, R. Pahnke’s “Good Friday experiment”: A long-term follow-up and methodological
Vol. 23 critique. • Dubin, W. The use of meditative techniques in psychotherapy supervision. •
No. 1 Mansfield, V. Looking into mind: An undergraduate course. • Tart, C.T. & Deikman, A.J.
Mindfulness, spiritual seeking and psychotherapy.

No. 2 Lajoie, D. H., Shapiro, S.E. & Roberts, T.B. A historical analysis of the statement of
purpose in The Journal ofTranspersonal Psychology. • Montgomery, C.L. The care-giving
relationship: Paradoxical and transcendent aspects. • Tart, C.T. Influences of previous
psychedelic drug experiences on students of Tibetan Buddhism: A preliminary exploration.
• Vaughan, F. Spiritual issues in psychotherapy. • Vigne, J. Guru and psychotherapist:
Comparisons from the Hindu tradition.

1992 Bogart, G.C. Separating from a spiritual teacher. • Lajoie, D.H. & Shapiro, S.I. Definitions
Vol. 24 of transpersonal psychology: The first twenty-three years. • Lukoff, D., Turner, R. & Lu,
No. 1 F. Transpersonal psychology research review: Psychoreligious dimensions of healing. •
McNamara, P. A transpersonal approach to memory. • Shapiro, D.H. Jr. A preliminary
study of long-term meditators: Goals, effects, religious orientation, cognitions. • Vich, M.A.
Changing definitions of transpersonal psychology.

No. 2 Hughes, D.J. Differences between trance channeling and multiple personality disorder on
structured interview. • Loy, D. Avoiding the void: The lack of self in psychotherapy and
Buddhism. • Stavely, H. & McNamara, P. Warwick Fox’s “transpersonal ecology”: A
critique and alternative approach. • Waldman, M., Lannert, J., Boorstein, S., Scotton, B.,
Saltzman, L. & Jue, R.W. The therapeutic alliance, kundalini, and spiritual/religious issues
in counseling. • Walsh, R.N. & Vaughan, F. Lucid dreaming: Some transpersonal implica­
tions.

106 The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, 1994, Vol 26, No. 2


1993 Carr, C. Death and near-death: A comparison of Tibetan and Euro-American experiences.
Vol. 25 • Greyson, B. The physio-kundalini syndrome and mental illness. • Lukoff, D., Turner,
No. 1 R. & Lu, F. G. Transpersonal psychology research review: Psychospiritual dimensions of
healing. • Ossoff, J. Reflections of shaktipat: Psychosis or the rise of kundalini? A case
study. • Walsh, R. & Vaughan, F. The art of transcendence: An introduction to common
elements of transpersonal practices.

No. 2 Cumulative Index: The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology, Volumes 21-25,1989-


1993. Contents listed by volume year. Alphabetical list of authors. • Hanna, F. J. Rigorous
intuition: Consciousness, being, and the phenomenological method. • Miller, J. J. The
unveiling of traumatic memories and emotions through mindfulness and concentration
meditation: Clinical implications and three case reports. • Tart, C. T. The structure and
dynamics of waking sleep. • Walsh, R. The transpersonal movement: A history and state
of the art. • Walsh, R. & Vaughan, F. On transpersonal definitions.

1994 Dubin, W. The use of meditative techniques for teaching dynamic psychology. • Mf.tzner,
Vol. 26 R. Addiction and transcendence as altered states of consciousness. • Patrik, L.E. Phenom­
No. 1 enological method and meditation. • Steele, S. The multistate paradigm and the spiritual
path of John of the Cross.

No. 2 Boorstein, S. Insight: Some considerations regarding its potential and limitations. •
Gifford-May, D. & Thompson, N.L. "Deep states” of meditation: Phenomenological
reports of experience. • Hutton, M.S. How transpersonal psychotherapists differ from other
practitioners: An empirical study. • MacDonald, D.A., Tsagarakis, C.I. & Holland, C.J.
Validation of a measure of transpersonal self-concept and its relationship to Jungian and five-
factor model conceptions of personality. • Wren-Lewis, J. Aftereffects of near-death
experiences: A survival mechanism hypothesis.
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Transpersonal Psychology
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1996
Annual Conference
Asilomar Conference Center
Monterey, California

August 1-4, 1996


ISSN: 0022-524X

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