Altered ConsciousnessFrom 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 Menletter
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