Altered
Consciousness
From Menletter May 2002 By Tim Baehr You've
probably heard about, read about, or experienced what is called an
"altered state of consciousness." There's quite a catalog of the
various kinds, which can be described by their causes: illegal and legal
drugs, botanicals such as peyote and mushrooms, alcohol, sensory deprivation,
sleep deprivation, stress, trauma, meditation, holotropic
breathwork, religious ecstasy, exercise-induced
endorphins ("runner's high"), high fever, orgasm, mental illness.
Even chocolate and love have been implicated, and I suspect I've left a few
out. What's
"altered" in an altered state? You could go through the gamut -
emotion, sensation, perception, cognition. And what "consciousness"
is being "altered"? Do we all have the same baseline consciousness fom which the alterations take place? Yes
and no. We inherit, as human beings, a hard-wired neurological system that's
pretty much standard. But then it's constantly altered. The things we see,
hear, taste, smell, and feel interact with any hard-wired neurological
inheritance. Perhaps that's why, at any given time, a society or an
individual may encounter the world quite differently from the way you and I
encounter it. And
we must interact with the world in order to make sense of it. Much of what we
understand about the physical world is conditioned by our experience of that
world. In extreme cases, this conditioning can fail at a critical time.
People born deaf may never acquire spoken language skills unless they gain
their hearing very young. Beyond a certain age, those skills can't be acquired.
A similar phenomenon happens among people who are born blind: if sight is
acquired beyond a certain age, people may find it difficult or even
impossible to make sense of visual sensations. What
about our sense of ourselves as human beings? We know, or can at least guess,
that there's some variation - from society to society and even from person to
person - in how we view ourselves. What we feel, perceive, and think about are at least partially conditioned by our upbringing in a
particular society, community, and family. At any point in time, each one of
us is the main character in a long story, mostly created by others. This
isn't entirely bad. Without a common story - without norms - each community
could lapse into chaos and anarchy. In extreme cases, lack of interaction
with others leads to death. Orphan babies could die without human
interaction, even though they were fed and kept clean. In
living our stories, we're often unaware that we're immersed the story - in a
constant chatter not entirely of our own making. The chatter may be in the
form of words and sentences or it may be preverbal - a stream of ideas and
images just before they're put into words. Most of the time, we're unaware of
this chatter. It's about as automatic as breathing. But it's a huge part of
what makes us conscious human beings. It
isn't entirely good. In some obvious and subtle ways, we're told who we are
as men. Messages - all part of the chatter - come from people close to us
such as parents or partners. The strongest messages come from the cultural
collective, and many of them are toxic. Men are violent (we are? all of us?).
Men are rapists (sex with our own wives has been called marital rape). Men
are silly and awkward (watch nearly any sit-com). Men are poisoned by testosterone
(simply not true, medically). Men are irrelevant. Men are tyrannical
overlords. And on and on. There
are good messages, too, of course. Men are heroes. Men protect their families
and country. Men have superior upper body strength. Men do the heavy, dirty
work. And so on. The
problem with all the messages, bad and good, is that they define us from
without. The messages worm their way into our consciousness. How I see
myself, how I feel as a man (even acknowledging some inconsistencies) may not
be who I really am. I am a character in a story I didn't write. Altering
the story - the chatter - can happen when we enter into an altered state of
consciousness. We can alter the chatter quickly with drugs, changing its
content or shutting it down. Changing the content through hallucinatory drugs
(for instance) just substitutes another kind of chatter. We can also change
the chatter by changing the circumstances of our lives. Extreme sports,
danger-seeking, or even typical "midlife crisis" behavior can
change the chatter. But it's still chatter, and it's just another story.
Shutting the chatter down (alcohol and other depressants come to mind) also
dulls or even shuts down awareness. This gets rid of the chatter, but without
awareness there's no benefit. The
trick, it seems to me, is to find a way to quell the chatter and leave
awareness intact. Who are we, without the messages we have internalized? What
do we think when we don't think in words? What do we perceive when there's no
story to tell? What do we feel when the most toxic of the messages are
absent? How can we use the chatter-free awareness to rediscover our true
selves? One
time-honored way is simply to sit still and pay attention. This takes a
little more effort than popping a pill or toking a joint, a little less effort than biking
down a mountain or jumping out of a plane - or buying a sports car and
trolling for a young girlfriend. Sitting
still can be pretty hard at first, but it improves with practice. Paying
attention may be even harder. Beginners are often told to pay attention just
to their breathing. When distractions arise (they will!), you just observe
them and let them pass you by. Can you sit still for ten minutes and
"do" absolutely nothing? Try it. You may find it a lot harder than
you imagined. Can you do it for twenty minutes? Once you've gotten through
twenty minutes, can you do it every day? When
you are immersed in stillness, you can enter into an altered state compared
to your everyday consciousness. But you're also in an "unaltered
state" in that you've set aside many of the things that have conditioned
your consciousness and set up the chatter in the first place. With awareness
intact, you've taken the first step on a journey of discovery. What's
the payoff? Eventually you get acquainted with a self that's not conditioned
by the chatter. You also get to see a world that's not being filtered through
chatter. As a man, you can get closer to your male essence and discover a far
richer and more complicated human being than you had imagined. You'll
probably also discover that the "bad" parts of yourself aren't so
bad after all and that you have perhaps been undervaluing the good parts. And
having done all that, you may also find out that you can see the rest of the
world, and the people in it, more clearly and with greater compassion. A lot
- maybe all - of the negative judging we do comes from the chatter. The
biggest payoff, perhaps, is that you begin to see yourself without being
defined by other people's expectations. When you return from your stillness,
you're more genuine, more "you," and
people generally respond well to that. Notice
I haven't called this practice "meditation." Somehow the word
doesn't capture what I have in mind, even though, objectively, sitting and
awareness exercises are definitely a form of meditation. What I want to
emphasize, however, is the stillness and the quieting of mind and body. You
need no special cushion, room, time, clothing, guru, or anything else. Just
you in a comfortable position in a quiet place. Stillness
is hard. If you've ever tried it, you know it's far from passive. I don't
expect that many men would embark on this kind of practice simply because
they've read what I've said here. But store this information away somewhere
in your head. There are many ways to approach the practice of stilling the
chatter. If you stay attentive to the possibilities, one may click with you
someday. ©Copyright 2002 by Tim Baehr |