BookPDF Available

Inner Paths to Outer Space

Authors:
  • Independent Researcher

Figures

Content may be subject to copyright.
7
The Shaman’s Journey
Supernatural or Natural? A Neuro-Ontological Interpretation of Spiritual Experiences
Ede Frecska, M.D.
A common thread seems to connect all shamans across the planet. . . . That this commonality cuts across seemingly irreconcilable
ethnic and cultural lines attests to the mystery and power lying at the source of myth, the human psyche. . . . From Lapland to
Patagonia, from the Paleolithic to today, the archetypes activated during shamanic ordeals and exaltations are astonishingly similar.
JOAN HALIFAX,
SHAMAN: THE WOUNDED HEALER
It is my hope that a reader who is not appalled by the word supernatural in this chapter’s title would not mind speculating why the ideas of soul,
spirit, and rebirth echo across ages, and why these concepts appear and reappear in widely different cultures. The belief in spiritual forces and
otherworldly realms appears universal in the human species. Rational thinking deems such concepts superstitious and originating in illusion or
fear of death and representing anxiety over ego-dissolution. It considers them products of wishful thinking. Academic accounts see spiritual
practice arising from the functioning of the human mind, with its supposed tendency to seek spiritual states or comfort in a hostile
world.1Accordingly, in worshipping spiritual beings, humans are just paying homage to a rarified form of themselves.
We can see that certain beliefs and experiences crop up universally in spiritual practices around the world, maintained for millennia. The
empirically established existence of resilient commonalities is remarkable. Regardless, the fact that spiritual teachings and mystical wisdom
traditions share a remarkable cross-cultural similarity can be dismissed with a skeptical shrug and explained away as projections of
intrapsychic structures common in every human being—and that a misinterpretation of universal experiences, such as dreams, may lead to the
belief in existence of spiritual beings.2
There are some elaborate explanations that suggest parallels to a pathological condition. Similar to schizophrenia, which—as some
speculate—is a price the human race pays for the gift of language,3 the tendency to believe in supernatural beings is common in all humans
because it is an offshoot of creative imagination. According to this view, something maladaptive resides in us universally and stays with us
persistently, because it is closely tied to an adaptive trait—creativity. The most permissive, dispassionate scientific approach accepts
universality as sufficient to establish phenomenological reality, but leaves the question open as to its ontological source.4
Skepticism is valued very highly in Western scientific thinking—as it ought to be to keep knowledge-building tightly disciplined. Why, then,
can we not use skepticism in a self-referential way, from a self-critical point of view? First of all, we must be skeptical toward our own cultural
background, which has many hidden presumptions governing even our supposedly objective way of answering questions. Setting boundaries
is the essence of the scientific method when it isolates and separates systems in order to study them experimentally without confounding
interferences from the outside.
Where, then, is the boundary of the scientific method itself? If science has limitations (this will be addressed further in the section about
rationalizing and mysticism on page 182, under the heading Educatio Demistificationis—i.e., demystifying education), then it cannot be the
bearer of the ultimate truth. Overvaluation of science, as in scientism, can take the form of cultural arrogance when it attempts to explain why
people of different cultures do things the way they do, interpreting costumes and rituals while ignoring a culture’s own reasons behind what it
does. My agenda is not to follow cultural relativism blindly. However, I pay maximal respect to the interpretation of aboriginal cultures and will
use those as a starting point.
COGNITIVE SCHEMAS
First, let us examine the soundness of Western confidence in scientism. We can summarize the basic concepts science holds about the human
phenomenon as follows:
Man is the by-product of mere chance. This follows from the combination of evolution theory and random genetic mutations. There is
no divine plan, no Almighty Creator. From the chaotic movements of the material world, complex systems evolved as a result of chance
and were chosen by natural selection.
We live in a universe alien to us and ignorant of our destiny. The anthropic principle, either in its “soft” or “strong” form, is not able to
come to the rescue of an individual person. The two forms of the anthropic principle diverge in their interpretation as to why the physical
constants of our universe predispose it to be hospitable to human life, but agree that the cosmos is absolutely indifferent toward the fate
of any one member of the species.
We have come from nothingness and will return to nothingness after death. The meaning of this is the same as the decree “dust
to dust.” Only the most basic components of our bodies will survive and continue on in the circle of life.
It is apparent to a mind trained in behavioral sciences that these basic concepts are strikingly similar to the Beck triad: The psychiatrist
Aaron Beck noticed the cognitive distortion that depressed subjects perceived in self, the world, and the future, calling it the negative cognitive
schema of depressive thinking. Derogatory views of the self, the world, and the future are core features of the depressed individual:
“I am a worthless person.”
“The world is an inhospitable place.”
“My past is a tragedy; my future is hopeless.”
Beck suggested that depressed people draw illogical conclusions about situations, and these lead to a distortion of reality, which manifests
in the magnification of negative experiences and the trivialization of neutral or positive ones. The cognitive triad is the source of the extremely
low self-esteem of depressed subjects. Indeed, it can lead to micromanic (the opposite of grandiose) delusions, manifesting in the extreme
form as psychosis. The parallel between the theses of scientism and the Beck triad is close and raises the following questions: Does the same
outcome stand for scientific thinking as well? Is scientific thinking illogical or biased in its worldview in a way that is similar to that of a
depressed patient? Of course, science is not illogical, but it may suffer from overexclusiveness. It must be biased in that direction in order to
build a consistent knowledge system by keeping “soft,” poorly validated concepts outside of its domain. Nevertheless, what lies outside of the
semantic universe of “official science” today may be part of it tomorrow. There are more things in heaven and on Earth than are dreamed of in
our current philosophy. . . .
Can the negative thinking of Western rationalism lead to a pathologically flawed underestimation of the human potential in a manner akin to a
psychotic depressive delusion? A possible answer is hidden in the cognitive schemas of seven wisdom traditions that can be designated as
unambiguously positive:
Christianity: “The kingdom of heaven is within (or among) you” (from the words of Jesus).
Islam: “Those who know themselves know their Lord.”
Judaism: He is in all, and all is in Him.”
Confucianism: “Those who know their own nature, know heaven.”
Taoism: “In the depths of the soul, one sees the Divine, the One.
Buddhism: Look within, you are the Buddha.”5
Apparently, the issue has to do with self-knowledge—yet it is not about the self-knowledge favored by Western individualism: “Be aware of
your own coping skills!” Individualism, which has been nurtured in the West, is a cultural tradition of the last two hundred years. The wisdom
traditions cited here, however, are at least fourteen hundred years old, and all of them were born in the East. There is one more, which
formulates most concisely the essence of all of them:
Hinduism: “Atman [individual consciousness] and Brahman [universal consciousness] are one.”
In other words, if we descend into the depth of our psyche, we will arrive at something common in all of us and in everything. We discover this
by consistently looking inward until within becomes beyond. Conversely, if we look far and deep into the universe and dare to go beyond, at
some point we will face the observing self. There is no such thing as monotonous, infinite progression and regression with endless hierarchies,
larger and larger supersystems on the way up and smaller and smaller elementary particles on the way down. Quantum physicists have already
stumbled onto the problem of conscious observer, and were temporarily able to find a way around it in the Copenhagen interpretation of
quantum mechanics.
The great unification, the Theory of Everything, very likely requires better understanding of consciousness as the vehicle through which all
things are known. As physicists struggle to tie together general relativity and quantum field theory in terms of quantum gravity, perhaps further
insights will be obtained by understanding the nature of logic, cognition, and consciousness. The inside and outside paths will eventually
converge in consciousness or in what is known as source in Sufism, ruach in the kabbalah, aka in kahuna mysticism, dynamic ground in
transpersonal psychology, and zero-point energy or topological field among heterodox physicists (see figure 7.1). We may recognize it as the
Matrix, the Cosmic Internet. At the deepest level of our psyche, at the bottom of our soul, we become one with the ultimate reality.*6Any—even
the last, most unfortunate—member of the human species carries the whole cosmos inside and has the potential to reach it, to tap in to it. This
is exactly what we may realize as the most positive cognitive scheme, the most important discovery of all time.
This kind of teaching definitely soothes the soul. It would be interesting to find out whether the prevalence of clinical depression, anxiety
disorders, and suicidal behavior is lower in cultures that nurture these teachings. Regardless of their positive impact on everyday life, doubts
remain: Does spiritual wisdom represent wishful thinking? Does it have scientific meaning at all? Does it have a place in our worldview at the
beginning of the twenty-first century? If the answers are negative, then why are no fewer than seven wisdom traditions (anyone knowledgeable
in mystic teachings can add more) so unequivocal in their basic tenets? Why do mystics separated by two millennia and two continents achieve
better accord on these issues than two scientists of the modern era on the nature of the universe or on the fact of global warming? It is notable
that these teachers have never been guilty of theological quarreling or theocratic dictatorship, nor can their teaching be used for these
purposes by others. As Alan Watts summarized: “. . . the plain fact [is] that there has otherwise been a single philosophical consensus of
universal extent. It has been held by [men and women] who report the same insights and teach the same essential doctrine whether living today
or six thousand years ago, whether from New Mexico in the Far West or from Japan in the Far East.”6
Foolish, arbitrary thinking can hardly reach this degree of consensus. Not without sarcasm, Ken Wilber said: “Eighty-three hallucinating
schizophrenics couldn’t organize a trip to the bathroom, let alone Japanese Zen.”7 Wilber refers to the eighty-three followers of Zen master
Hakuin as sages with mystical experiences and not schizophrenic subjects with perceptual distortions. The historically new rational thinking, the
triumph of the era of Enlightenment, is an outlier of the wisdom tradition and definitely not of the enlightened one. If the sages are right about
mystical enlightenment, their truth must also be correct in the framework of another knowledge system—Western science. The problem lies in
finding a proper way of translation.
The purpose of this chapter is to answer the questions we’ve raised here as science at present will allow. By doing so, we may cross the
ideas of different worldviews. I am fully aware of the pitfalls of both overinclusiveness and passionate thinking. Truly, the underlying
methodological approach has minimal experimental support; it can rely only on neurophenomenology, model-making, searching for
inconsistencies in rivaling views, and use of the power of converging evidence.
PHILOSOPHIA PERENNIS
The view held by a great majority of eminent theologians, mystic sages, and nonmaterialist philosophers at various times is known as
perennial philosophy.8 It is perennial because it holds profound, everlasting insights into life and nature, spanning cultures, and has been
taught by the great thinkers of all time. Four crucial claims about reality and human nature lie at the heart of perennial wisdom:
1. There are two realms of reality. The physical or phenomenal world is not the only reality; another, nonphysical realm exists, and the two
domains together constitute the ultimate reality.
2. All humans partake of both realms and mirror the nature of this two-sided reality.
3. Human beings possess a capacity, however unused and therefore atrophied, for perception of nonphysical reality.
4. Humans can recognize their divine spark (Atman) and the sacred ground (Brahman) that is its source. This perception is the final goal
(mystical enlightenment), and its pursuit is the greatest good (holy life) of human existence. All the great messengers of the spirit and the
masters of mysticism have declared with one voice that the supreme aim of humanity is reunion with its divine principle.9
Teachings of perennial philosophy suggest that the cosmos is not only interconnected and pulsating with life, but also multilayered. The
physical universe is not the only domain; beyond its complex hierarchy, there is also the subtle realm of spirit, for which the most meaningful
contemporary term is probably consciousness. The spiritual realm cannot be known through the physical senses and cannot be measured by
scientific instruments. According to followers of perennial philosophy, the realm of spirit can be approached by contemplative methods such as
meditation, rituals, and a sacred way of living.10 Moreover, the perennial philosophy states that our true nature is spiritual. We are fundamentally
creatures (as well as creators) of this realm. This is nothing less than a superpositive cognitive scheme, and in this chapter we attempt to bring
it into a rational context in the hope of changing the contemporary scientific worldview into one that is less negative. For clinical practitioners
and suffering patients, the message is that there is no tragedy in being human. The problem, rather, is that people who have been severed from
spiritual roots see life as a disaster.
THE SPIRITUAL DIMENSION
As an anchoring point and clarification, here is a definition of spirituality: It is something that we may not perceive, but others can—and this
kind of experience enriches those who undergo it. This is a relatively cautious approach; even people with an aversion to New Age, esoteric
thinking may accept it. The Institute of Noetic Sciences found in a survey that about 75 percent of the population had at least one spiritual
experience in life, but 75 percent of individuals employed in health care and those with strong academic backgrounds had no such experience.
This revealed divergence calls for a second study to replicate these results, and must be a wake-up call for these professionals.
Human thinking has different forms—rational thinking, emotional thinking, and spiritual thinking—and each of them can be measured by IQ
tests developed by David Wechsler, Daniel Goleman, and Robert Emmons, respectively. An individual can score high on one or more or even
all of them. In the film Forrest Gump, Tom Hanks plays a character who might definitely score low on the first test (rational thinking) but higher
on the others. John Coffey of the The Green Mile probably has a high spiritual IQ, but expresses modest capacity in the other areas. In
corporate and governmental America, some might make a rich career with a high Wechsler IQ (rational thinking) score, but these institutions
make high emotional and spiritual intelligence disadvantageous for a career-seeking individual.
It is essential in the current codes of professional behavior to sort out emotional and spiritual feelings and to suppress them (“Don’t mix
business with friendship”). There is a recent trend in business management to promote emotional and spiritual intelligence to manipulate
others, which is self-contradictory. Even in mental health care the basic tenet is to maintain boundaries: “Stay objective, stay away, and don’t
take your patients home!” Compassion toward patients is tolerated, perhaps, but is not considered professional. This can cause problems in
health care, however, because millennia of history in the healing traditions indicate that to be effective, a truly authentic healer mobilizes her or
his potentials in the emotional and spiritual spheres as well as in the logical sphere. To be an opportunist, then, we can be satisfied with our
rational IQ, but to perform well and to everyone’s satisfaction in the health care business, we must score high in all three areas.
THE EXTENDED BIOPSYCHOSOCIAL PARADIGM
Contemporary medicine defines human beings in a biopsychosocial framework. The concept of patients as biopsychosocial entities goes
back to George Engel,11 and comes from the observation that there are ailments that cannot be treated successfully by biological means
alone. There are mental disturbances for which targeting the intrapsychic conflicts alone (e.g., as in classical psychoanalysis) is not enough—
the therapist must address the subject’s interpersonal relationships as well (perhaps in the form of family therapy). Involving higher levels of the
biopsychosocial pyramid in health care may result in permanent improvement, and palliative, symptom-focused therapy can then be replaced
by curative treatment.
The biopsychosocial paradigm is not complete, however. Something is missing from the top that would provide for a transformation into a
mighty pyramid: the all-seeing eye (like that staring on the back of a dollar bill), the symbol of spirituality (see figure 7.2). There are
anthropological observations, Oriental descriptions, and Western anecdotal reports about successful therapies incorporating spiritual
elements. We must realize that the top of the pyramid is unsteady without a solid layer at the base. Likewise, the pyramid is just an impressive
pile of rock without a radiant capstone at the top. On the one hand, a treatment should not be based solely on spiritual techniques; on the other
hand, treatments with somatic focus are mostly palliative in Western medicine.
Here, we arrived at a modified, extended paradigm: the biopsychosociospiritual model. Therapy sui generis is reintegration in toto on
biological, mental, social, and spiritual levels. Thus far, there is nothing mystical in adding the spiritual to the concept: moving from left to right
(from bio to spiritual) along the gradations comprising the awkward term biopsychopsociospiritual means that the individual would identify step
by step with higher realms of reality—with the psyche, with the community, and, at the end, with an entity above community (i.e., environment,
nature, universe, Mother Earth, or other entities depending on culturally determined worldviews). Meaning emerges from context; more purpose
can be acquired from higher hierarchical perspectives. Consequently, spiritual orientation can provide a more meaningful life to individuals than
does solely pursuing materialistic goals or following fundamentalistic views that bluntly ignore the value system of others.
The term sacred refers to a sense of respect for and humility toward the larger entities to which we are subordinated and that govern our
lives. Based on the illusion that we are in command of our destiny, Western individualism has eroded this concept. The historical process of
individualization involves slicing off, step by step from right to left, components of the biopsychosociospiritual unity. This process was begun
millennia ago by gradual separation from nature and by the suppression of tribal ritual traditions. It continued during modernization by the
destruction of rural communities and the rise of the nuclear family, and has culminated in postmodern, emotionless professionalism. The
richness of the biopsychosociospiritual model of traditional societies has been boiled down to the bony biorobot rationalis skeleton of
postmodern man.
Indeed, cross-cultural analyses reveal that increasing social and political complexity, particularly hierarchical integration, leads to a reduction
in the use of spiritual techniques.12 This negative—at times, antagonistic—relation to political integration reflects an inherent conflict between
spirit and power: the psychosocial needs of hierarchical societies are not compatible with the individuals’ direct relationship to a
transcendental “other,” especially not in an altered state of consciousness (ASC). Dobkin de Rios and Smith13 suggest that spiritual techniques
for altering consciousness are typically repressed in state-level societies because they constitute a potential threat to the religious
interpretations of those who hold social and religious power.
In our complex, hierarchical society, addressing the biopsychosociospiritual totality is not tolerated on the level of direct personal experience,
but is promoted in a symbolic form, as reflected by the familiar text of the prayer known as the “Our Father”:
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven.
[Surrender to the spiritual force is formulated; the virtue of humility is implied.]
Give us this day our daily bread.
[The basic, biological needs of the body are to be taken care of, with moderation.]
And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
[Here is the submission to social values and the concern for others with expression of the need for fairness.]
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
[This is a request for the body’s capitulation to the psyche. It calls for temperance, for denial of pursuing only hedonistic or material goals.]
Amen.
[Let it be.]
Could it be expressed more concisely? In this prayer, we find that anyone who wishes to do so can address all four elements of the
biopsychosociospiritual paradigm within thirty seconds.
CHANGING VIEWS ON THE SHAMAN’S MISSION: PSYCHOINTEGRATION AND DIVINATION
In the course of recent studies in psychological anthropology, a consensus has emerged that the vast majority of ritual ceremonies are
concerned primarily with healing in a general sense. They exert influence on physical well-being, heighten identity, enhance interpersonal
cohesion, reintegrate community into the environment, and mitigate perceived conflicts with supernatural powers. In spite of the cultural diversity
of therapeutic institutions and practices, the fundamental healing principles show a good deal of cross-cultural uniformity. Michael Winkelman
emphasizes the traditional healer’s role in the reintegrative process, and coins the term psychointegration as a description of the healing
process.14
All traditional shamanic rituals pursue the same end: to destroy “profane” sensibility and create a sensory condition that is open to the
supernatural. This is not only a matter of physiological techniques. Traditional ideology directs and imparts values to all these efforts intended to
break the frame of profane sensibility. The result is an ASC: an ecstasy or trance, which is not the goal but rather the means of contacting
spiritual realms in archaic healing ceremonies. Mircea Eliade defines the technique of ecstasy as the common denominator of all shamanic
practices.15 According to his view, the shaman is a skilled technician, a manipulator of the ASC of all participants, including that of him-or
herself, an experienced navigator of spiritual realms as revealed in the shamanic journey.
Over the past decade it has become increasingly clear that though trance techniques are important, there are cultures in which there are
exceptions. More universal is the shaman’s function in the role of a communicator: the shaman is the traditional healer who encounters divine
entities and spirits in order to fulfill his therapeutic obligation. This is psychointegration in the broadest sense. Integration, which is reintegration
in the case of healing, means necessarily bringing information into the disintegrated system through a process known as divination.
We arrive, then, at a new definition of the shaman’s mission: to act as messenger of divine information in the service of the community.
Despite millennia of field testing, divination has no scientific validation. It may reach epistemological acceptance at best without ontological
recognition.16 Ignorance is more common from a scientific standpoint, due to lack of controlled observations—the result of academic
indifference, it is extremely difficult to refer to well-organized fieldwork on the functional outcome of divination practices. Anecdotal reports are
more common, but have only limited scientific value, though in some instances such reports can be persuasive.
Let us review three cases from widely separated locations in the world. A Tungus shaman in Siberia agrees to the request of tribal hunters to
locate game during a poor hunting season. Using a drumming technique, he enters an ASC and provides information to help his hunters. The
Western interpretation—if it accepts at all the validity of this kind of information—would be that the shaman calculates the behavior of the game
according to weather and well-known environmental conditions. In other words, his is information based on cognitive processing of sensory
data. The explanation of the shaman himself is different: Guidance has been provided by forest spirits.
On another continent, hunters of the Kalahari !Kung tribe leave the settlement to hunt for a period that may last anywhere from two days to two
weeks. The tribe’s timely preparation for the return of successful hunters is necessary for processing the game. The people left behind make
the appropriate steps long before the hunters’ reappearance. Their foreknowledge of the hunters’ return could be explained rationally by
attributing it to a messenger sent ahead or the use of tam-tam drums or smoke signals. The tribesmen report, however, that it is the spirit of
ancestors who informs them when the hunters will return.
Next, we move to the Amazon basin. The Shuar shaman is facing a new disease in the community. An herbal remedy is sought by adding
leaves of a candidate plant into the hallucinogenic beverage ayahuasca, a sacrament indigenous to the Upper Amazon region. The shaman
drinks it and, upon return to ordinary consciousness, decides the usefulness of the plant in question. Is his decision based on accumulation of
ethnobotanical knowledge of several generations in combination with trial and error? The headhunter Shuar are not likely to be merciful to an
ineffective medicine man, and his techniques must be working. As Luis Eduardo Luna explained to me, according to ayahuasqueros, the spirit
of a new plant reveals itself with the help of the spirits associated with the ayahuasca. Sometimes, they also tell which plant to use next.
We can point to the following contradiction: Healers from different cultures are unequivocal in their interpretation of the source of knowledge,
whereas rational thinkers use diverging, unsystematic explanations. Which side should be slashed with Occam’s razor? Also called the
“principle of parsimony,” Occam’s razor is usually interpreted to mean something like “Do not multiply hypotheses unnecessarily” or “Do not
posit pluralities unnecessarily when generating explanatory models.” The principle of parsimony is used frequently by philosophers of science
in an effort to establish criteria for choosing from theories with equal explanatory power.
At first glance it is the “primitives” who multiply causes unnecessarily by referring to the supernatural. Yet Occam’s razor may be applied
easily to the rational view, if those arguments are less parsimonious. What if there is no distinction between the supernatural and the natural
world? Dividing nature into natural and supernatural, and delegating spirits to the supernatural, may turn out not to be parsimonious within the
contemporary assumptions.
The split between the supernatural and the natural realm of the world doesn’t exist in the view of tribal cultures and mystical traditions. Their
experience of reality is different from Western understanding. According to the traditional concept, the world is made up of things seen and
things hidden without boundary between them. The distinction exists only inside the mind of the unprepared, the uninitiated. For the “knower,”
natural and supernatural present themselves together as an unseparated whole, both woven into one seamless fabric of reality.
Then who gets the highest score of parsimony? West or East? More precisely, Northwest or Southeast, modern or traditional? (In the section
Educatio Demistificationis, we will outline the methodology mystical traditions developed to support their view.)
We are not satisfied with the explanatory power of current reasoning. The approach presented here does not ignore the aboriginal view in
developing a broader model. The view of divination presented here comes closer in interpretation to the emic view of native people—with the
term emic referring to how cultural phenomena are understood by members of that specific culture, as opposed to etic viewpoints, which are
based on rational explanations derived from Western science.17 The basic questions can be formulated this way: To where does the shamanic
healer travel, and what is the source of the psychointegrative information?
THE SHAMANIC JOURNEY
The centerpiece of shamanic practice is the shamanic journey. Also known as soul flight, it defines shamans and differentiates them from
mediums, psychics, faith healers, and mystics. Only the shaman travels in an ASC, in a shamanic state of consciousness, according to Michael
Harner.18 The shaman is believed to leave the body and to travel at will throughout the expanses of the lower, middle, and upper worlds. Others
may heal or minister in an altered state, but it is the shaman alone who primarily engages in soul flight. The shaman is a cosmic traveler
because
. . . his soul can safely abandon his body and roam at vast distances, can penetrate the underworld and rise to the sky. Through his own
ecstatic experience he knows the roads of the extraterrestrial regions. He can go below and above because he has already been there.
The danger of losing his way in these forbidden regions is still great; but sanctified by his initiation and furnished with his guardian spirit, a
shaman is the only human being able to challenge the danger and venture into a mystical geography.19
The shaman’s journey takes place in “nonordinary reality.”20 Along the way, the shaman may traverse strange landscapes and encounter
numerous spirits. Such journeys are generally undertaken in order to learn, to heal, and to help in the service of the community. For instance, the
shaman may journey to obtain knowledge or prophecy; to treat illnesses; to appease tribal gods; or to assist individuals in making the transition
to the land of the dead. According to the shamanic traditions of five continents, spiritual beings are the source of the energy and information
needed to fulfill these goals.
Shamans establish contact with guides or teachers in nonordinary reality from whom they solicit advice regarding individual or tribal
problems. Healing (i.e., integrative) power is acquired through interaction with power animals, guardians, or other spiritual entities. In all these
activities, during the information-seeking endeavor, the shaman remains in control of her or his faculties, maintains awareness for recalling
experiences, and is able to interpret them to members of the community upon returning to ordinary reality. Hence, being able to remember what
occurred during a shamanic journey is crucial, and distinguishes the shamanic state of consciousness as a unique ASC.
THE SHAMANIC STATE OF CONSCIOUSNESS
This type of ASC is dreamlike, but shares with the waking world a feeling of reality. In this state the shaman—like a skilled navigator—is keenly
aware of the surrounding reality (both ordinary and nonordinary), and can give direction at will to her or his movements. An ASC is one that
differs significantly from ordinary or basic consciousness. Baseline consciousness might be best defined by the presence of two important
subjective characteristics: the sense of self at the center of perception and a sense that this self is identified with the body. States of
consciousness in which we lose identification with our body or with our self are definitely ASCs. The former happens in the shamanic state of
consciousness.
An ASC is marked psychologically by an individual’s modified perceptual responses, processes of memory formation, cognitive skills,
affective reactions, and personality structure relative to the basic or ordinary state of consciousness for that person. Integration in an ASC can
occur because—based on set and setting (frame of mind and situation of the person, respectively)—an attenuation of the ordinary mode and
its primary faculties permits the emergence of integrative symbolic and cognitive processes normally repressed by ordinary consciousness.21
Orchestrated destructuralization, combined with patterning forces that redirect psychological functioning toward culturally desired patterns of
experience, can lead to a stable, integrative ASC.22
Some examples of ASCs recognized by Western culture are hypnotic trance, deep sleep, dreaming (REM) sleep, meditation, use of
hallucinogenic substances, and periods of peak athletic performance. Some of these states may be spontaneously achieved, instigated by, for
example, psychological trauma, sleep disturbance, sensory deprivation or overload, neurochemical imbalance, epileptic fits, and fever. Yet they
may also be induced by purposeful activities such as breathing exercises; extreme deprivations (fasting, social isolation); self-inflicted pain
(flagellation); reductions or elevations in the level of sensory stimulation; rhythmic photic or sonic stimulation (drumming); and frenzied dancing,
spinning, or chanting. Finally, they may be evoked by the use of psychoactive substances. Altered states of consciousness are frequently
marked by vivid hallucinations and visions, the content of which is determined by the cultural background, set, and setting.
During its history, humankind has devoted astonishing energy and ingenuity to altering consciousness. In a survey of 488 societies in all parts
of the world, Erika Bourgignon23 found that 437 of the societies had one or more culturally patterned forms of ASC. This means that fully 90
percent of the world’s cultures have one or more institutionalized ASC. In tribal societies and Eastern cultures these are regarded— almost
without exception—as sacred or revered conditions. Mystical or sacred states of consciousness are called samadhi in yoga, moksha in
Hinduism, satori in Zen, fana in Sufism, and ruach hakodesh in kabbalah. In the West they are known as unio mystica (Christian mysticism), a
numinal state (Carl Jung), peak experience (Abraham Maslow), holotropic experience (Stanislav Grof), cosmic consciousness (Richard
Bucke), and flow (Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi).
Western rational thinking marginalizes or even pathologizes ASCs: it considers them not only altered but deviant states, cannot differentiate
between their disintegrative and integrative forms, and cultivates only the basic state of ordinary consciousness. Hence, the West has been
stuck in one state of mind, not capitalizing on the potential of integrative ASCs. To put it in ecological terms, Western civilization, with its
institutionalized propensity to escape transcendence, is a monoculture, like a cornfield with low levels of biodiversity, in contrast to the flowery
pasture of other traditions. Cultural relativism prohibits comparing and judging the validity of cultural values. Nevertheless, evolution prefers
diversity. The West is largely suspicious of ASCs, lacks institutional means to experience the sacred directly, and is left without an
understanding of the integrative properties of transcendent ASCs. Techniques for inducing ASCs—typical in tribal cultures—gave way to mere
symbolic rituals; direct experience is replaced by faith; and living ritual tradition of the past is fossilized into dogma. The West would benefit
from reexamining a deeper level of spirituality, paying respect to higher structures, living in accord with other holons (a term favored by Ken
Wilber for denoting systems embedded in joint hierarchies), and working to regain personal access to transcendental realms. This infusion of
more traditional spirituality into the West has been called the Archaic Revival.24
We have seen that the existence of institutionalized procedures for altering consciousness is a near-universal characteristic of human culture.
The majority of societies regard ASCs as equal to or of higher value than ordinary consciousness. This raises an intriguing dilemma: if there is
more than one accepted form of consciousness, then the reality to which ASCs of the integrative type provide access is multiple, and we
cannot discard any one as irrelevant or delusional. Here, we arrive at the incommensurability of realities. It is untenable to make statements
from one form of consciousness regarding the reality of another. Rationalists think about satori as a dreamlike state, while a Zen monk may say
that it is the ordinary, rational people who live their lives in a dream world. Experiences of nonordinary reality are ineffable in ordinary
consciousness. Judging or valuing one state of consciousness compared to another is logically prohibited. “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof
one must be silent,” said Ludwig Wittgenstein. A Zen Buddhist would agree with him on this accord. Yet we continue to break the silence.
EDUCATIO DEMISTIFICATIONIS
Competing epistemological theories of the last century agree on the nature of human knowledge as a constructive process that builds belief
systems based on consensus. There is no such thing as mirroring objective reality, as it is in itself ”—independent from the observer.
Emmanuel Kant pointed out the implausability of assuming Ding-an-Sich, a thing-in-itself.25 Even scientific objectivity cannot achieve that ideal
mirroring—even if there was such a thing as scientific objectivity. The evolution of theories is based on internal consistency, explanatory power,
and external consistency with other substructures of the knowledge system. The experimental method is the “royal road” to reaching agreement,
but this can hardly be applied to liberal arts, where an arduous process of long-lasting debates leads to the necessary consensus. Many people
can become excellent experimental scientists, whereas the social sciences have only a few outstanding thinkers in each generation.
Experimental science has a simple algorithm to be followed:
Under such-and-such circumstances (like mine),
Do this and this (like me),
Observe what happens,
And report it.
In other words: 1) set the experimental conditions, 2) define the method, 3) make observations, and 4) publish them.
It should not come as a surprise (but most of the time it does) that mystics follow a similar algorithm, the same methodological schema in
their contemplative techniques of seeking knowledge. Authentic mystics ask that nothing be accepted on mere belief or verbal teaching.
Rather, they present a set of tasks within the laboratory of our mind. We experiment, observe results, and compare these results with the
experience of others who perform similar experiments. Out of this consensually validated pool of knowledge emerge certain laws—the laws of
the spirit.26 This is a form of empiricism as well. The only difference is the lack of quantifiable measurement. It is not reality’s problem, however,
that it has immeasurable processes. Rather, it is the problem of scientism, which limits nature to the measurable.
Experimental science is based on quantified measures of external reality. According to its extreme form—scientism—whatever can’t be
measured in some way is deemed unreal, and thus its value is unknowable. Values, emotions, and intuition have no part in the scientific
worldview; there is no room for thoughts and feelings, only measurements of what is “out there.” The material side of life—not the internal or
spiritual—is all-important. The inner world has been abandoned, and we have lost ties with totality. Scientists with high integrity are aware of the
limits of their own method. As a line in the film Dirty Harry says, “A man’s gotta know his limitations!”27 The greatest scientific revolutionaries
were mystical at heart: Kepler, Newton, and Einstein, to name just a few.
Consensus can be reached in a third manner: hammering concepts into the subject with the help of faith (the word consensus is used
euphemistically in this case). This is not about attacking the general importance of faith, but is rather about the inflation of faith—exploiting it as
the replacement of empirical experience. Dogmatic religions apply this method and thereby abuse faith. From this point of view, there is more
similarity between a scientist and a mystic than a scientist and an orthodox religious believer. The claims of both groups of wise men are not
based on mere beliefs or doctrines, but rather on direct experience. In the era of the holy Inquisition, scientists and mystics were in the same
boat, while after the scientific revolution, mystics had to stay underground. We have so far attempted to demystify mysticism and to move it
closer to the scientific method of knowledge building. Now, we will try to reconcile science and the realm of our inner universe.
LEVELS OF ORGANIZATION RELEVANT TO CONSCIOUSNESS
The table that follows in figure 7.3 summarizes the levels of organization supposedly involved in generating the conscious experience. Because
the topic of consciousness is mostly ignored by mainstream neuroscience, it is difficult to determine the opinion of prominent brain researchers
concerning the subject. My department chairman once warned me: “If you want to make a career, you must avoid studying consciousness.
Despite some positive trends in other disciplines, orthodox neuroscientists avoid the issue, and unorthodox ones use the politically correct term
awareness when preparing their grant proposals. Nevertheless, with the exception of the levels at the very top and at the very bottom of the
table, most neuroscientists would not disagree with the assumption that all these levels represented here are involved in the process.
Because no experimental data can be introduced to support it, this hypothesis is strengthened by pointing out inconsistencies within the
current neuroscientific concepts. Again, this is not easy, because we rarely hear established neuroscientists expressing their views on
consciousness. If they do, they emphasize the neurological correlates of consciousness, as did Francis Crick,28 who spelled out his radical
reductionist vision: “You, your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will are in fact
no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules. As Lewis Carroll’s Alice might have phrased it,
‘You’re nothing but a pack of neurons.’”
Science writer John Horgan criticized such narrow views:
In a sense, Crick is right. We are nothing but a pack of neurons. At the same time, neuroscience has so far proved to be oddly
unsatisfactory. Explaining the mind in terms of neurons has not yielded much more insight or benefit than explaining the mind in terms of
quarks and electrons. There are many alternative reductionisms. We are nothing but a pack of idiosyncratic genes. We are nothing but a
pack of adaptations sculpted by natural selection. We are nothing but a pack of computational devices dedicated to different tasks. We
are nothing but a pack of sexual neuroses. These proclamations, like Crick’s, are all defensible, and they are all inadequate.29
To avoid the trap of radical reductionism, we must assume that all levels are at work with bidirectional, interrelated, causative processes. We
should pay attention to the position of the dashed line in figure 7.3. We may call it the knowledge horizon, because it divides levels based upon
their assumed causational role in generating the conscious experience. According to the theory of the neurological correlates of
consciousness, the neuroaxonal system has a pivotal role both in the emergence of conscious experience and in the function of levels above it.
In his book The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial of Human Nature, Steven Pinker writes, “[C]ulture is crucial, but culture could not exist
without mental faculties that allow humans to create and learn culture to begin with.30
The effect of culture in shaping brain structure and neuroaxonal function is also permitted. This means that bottom-up and top-down
interactions are at work above the dashed line, and every level has an active role. This is not the case for interactions below it: the assumption
here is that subcellular levels are passive, serving higher levels by permitting, but not shaping, their function. Here the causation operates only
from bottom-up, but the role of top-down effects is not believed to operate at this level in mainstream neuroscientific thinking. Above the
horizontal line, there is a well-balanced cooperative hierarchy; below it, oligarchy is the rule. Of course, this is an arbitrary delineation with
broken symmetry. For improved integrity, we may postulate that subcellular systems add to the experience something that is a characteristic of
their level. They can also shape consciousness. Because the size of the subneural component is close to quantum physical measures, the
suggested characteristic subcellular levels add to consciousness is their connection to quantum reality or “quantum weirdness,” as some
physicists like to say. The most outstanding case of quantum weirdness is nonlocality, more specifically signal nonlocality.
THE END OF LOCAL REALISM AND THE LIMITS OF QUANTUM THEORY
The most unusual feature of quantum reality is its independence of the space–time constraints of classical physics, which assume local realism
and local causality. Local realism is a combination of two intuitive notions: 1) the locality principle, which states that physical effects have a finite
propagation speed; and 2) the reality principle, which means that particle attributes have definite values independent of the act of observation.
The Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen (EPR) paradox was first in formulating the following dilemma: The laws of quantum mechanics are not consistent
with the assumptions of local realism. Based on the EPR paradox, Albert Einstein et al.31 suggested that the theory of quantum mechanics was
incomplete. John Bell’s theorem32 indicated that local realism requires invariants that are not present in quantum mechanics, and implied that
quantum mechanics cannot satisfy local realism. Bell’s experiments33 provided overwhelming empirical evidence against local realism and
demonstrated that under special circumstances, “spooky action at a distance” (using Albert Einstein’s words) does in fact occur. Different
interpretations of quantum mechanics reject different components of local realism.
In one interpretation, local realism is broken down due to the principle of nonlocality, which posits that distant objects can have direct,
instantaneous influence on one another. The nonlocality principle derives from quantum entanglement: a set of particles that have interacted as
parts of the same quantum system maintain their interaction after separation, regardless of space and time constrains. Quantum states of two
or more entangled objects have to be described with reference to each other, even though the individual objects may be separated light-years
in space and millennia in time. State correlation is preserved between observable physical properties of systems connected in quantum
entanglement. Entanglement means that the involved systems are correlated; it doesn’t imply that signals pass between them. To put it simply
and anthropomorphically, entangled systems “sense” each other without space and time constraints.
If we add to quantum mechanics some seemingly plausible requirements such as locality, realism, and completeness, then contradiction
emerges. In essence, quantum mechanics, with the wave function at its core, cannot be complete, unitary, real, local, nonlinear, and causal at
the same time. Competing interpretations of quantum mechanics differ in choosing the conditions they are willing to sacrifice in order to save
the rest, or choosing what one may modify with resultant change in the others. The living post–quantum theory is nonlinear, nonunitary, and
spontaneously self-organizing, with a “two-way relation” between “it” and “bit.”34
Though the theory of quantum mechanics has perfect internal consistency and strong predictive power, it has weak external consistency
compared to other realms of current knowledge. Nevertheless, it maintains consistency with the theory of relativity. With the help of
Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, the theory of relativity is not violated by nonlocal actions because some vital information is scrambled during
the process. Some information can be obtained nonlocally, but no one can control the information in advance, in a easily replicable way:
bidirectional information exchange with supraluminal (faster-than-light) speed does not occur. Therefore, lack of local realism does not lead to
what could be referred to as “spooky communication at a distance.”
Some interpreters of contemporary physics suggest that nonlocality is not an esoteric idea. On the contrary, it is a very realistic one.
According to them, nonlocality is actually the basic principle of the universe, meaning that the whole universe is an interconnected, entangled
totality. According to this view, consciousness is inherently nonlocal as well. This fundamental nonlocality of mind and universe collapses in the
ordinary state of consciousness. Space and time are themselves manifestations of this breakdown, and with them the separated array of
particles that dominate large areas of the universe. In this interpretation, individual consciousness arises from the interplay of mind—
developing within the nonlocal aspect of the universe—and matter, which is the localized aspect of this same universe.
Where in the brain does this interplay occur? What part of the brain serves as an interface between nonlocal and local processes, between
the mind and the material universe?
THE MATRIX
After the development of quantum mechanics, many physicists, and subsequently other scientists and nonscientist popularizers, were caught
up in the excited belief that quantum theory might explain the mystery of consciousness. There exists a precise correspondence between
physical reality and logic, for according to the laws of matrix logic,35 these are two aspects of the same thing. The striking similarities between
the general quantum and thought processes gave rise to the quantum hypothesis of the mind. Discovery of quantum computation added
another impetus, and dozens of brain models were developed based on quantum computational principles. Among them, the most elaborate is
the Penrose-Hameroff model,36 though it may not necessarily be the entirely correct or ultimate one.*7 Nevertheless, the strength of our concept
is not tied to the validity of one model, but to the argumentation outlined in the preceding paragraphs for avoiding the trap of radical
reductionism.
Roger Penrose and Stuart Hameroff propose that consciousness emerges from biophysical processes acting at the subcellular level and
involving cytoskeletal structures. In their model, consciousness is attributed to quantum computation in cytoskeletal proteins organized into a
network of microtubules within the brain’s neurons. The cytoskeleton is dynamic “scaffolding,” a network of tubes and filaments providing both
structural support and the means of transportation of subcellular materials in the cell. While the cytoskeleton has traditionally been associated
with purely structural functions, recent evidence has revealed that it is involved in signaling and information processing as well.
The microtubules’ periodic lattice structure (see figure 7.4 on page 190) seems ideally suited to molecular-scale computation and is possibly
the source of the amazing feats of unicellular protozoa. These tiny, one-celled organisms swim, learn, navigate around objects, avoid predators,
and find food and mates—all without the benefit of a nervous system. In multicellular organisms, microtubules are connected to each other
structurally by protein links and functionally by gap junctions, self-assembling into a nanoscale network that is far more vast than the neuroaxonal
system. The human brain has approximately 1011 neurons and 1018 microtubule units (tubulins). The dimensions of the neuronal cell-body are
measured in micrometers; the diameter in nanometers. Microtubules interact with other cell structures, mechanically with the aid of proteins,
chemically by ions and “second-messenger” signals, and electrically by voltage fields. In the brain, they organize synaptic connections and
regulate synaptic activity responsible for memory and learning.
The microtubular network—with ten million times more elements than neurons and with a component size close to the quantum physical
realm—is a reasonable candidate for quantum computation and nonlocal information processing. The recent paradigm is signal nonlocality,
meaning that joint tasks that would require exchanging classical signals can take place without passing any information in an entangled system.
Signal nonlocality is purely correlational; it doesn’t involve information transfer exceeding the speed of light. Therefore, Einstein’s principle is
not violated. By the way, just as special relativity is a limiting case of general relativity, so is classical quantum mechanics with signal locality a
limiting case of postquantum theory with signal nonlocality.37 The latter is exactly what is implicit in the microtubule model of quantum
consciousness and may help us understand what may happen in the mystical or shamanic state of consciousness.
THE QUANTUM ARRAY ANTENNA OF THE BRAIN
Proposed is a biological model of information processing in which subcellular, cytoskeletal networks serve as a basis for quantum computation
and represent a medium of quantum holography. Microtubules fulfill multiple tasks in the experiences of the human mind: they can influence
learning at the macro level and shape consciousness at the micro level—and the cytoskeletal matrix may be immense enough to contain
holographic information about the whole universe via nonlocal interactions. The discovery of contemporary physics that every form of matter is
able to emit quanta of energy which are coherent and nonlocal and which carry usable information about the object demonstrates that quantum
physics pertains to all matter of any size, not just elementary particles. The Planck constant can be applied to every size and scale, not only the
nanoscale.38 Furthermore, these energy emissions with nonlocal information sharing can be modeled by the same mathematical formalism
used for laser photography, thus the term quantum holography. (Here, the word quantum does not necessarily imply particle physics.)
It is thought that quantum processes not only underlie all classical phenomena, but also that quantum laws can be applied to macroscale
events. This means the quantum principle does not dissipate in the macroworld. The universe replicates, or, as Matti Pitkanen says,
“emulates,” itself on every level and within the brain’s structure as well. In a quantum holographic model, the action of mind is not restricted to
the brain, but instead extends to the whole cosmos: The mind breaks out of the skull.
Hank Wesselman, an eminent author of the neoshamanic movement (see more about him in chapter 9), arrived at a similar conclusion:
Recent changes to quantum theory and current discoveries in neurobiology reveal that the brain organizes information holographically and
functions like a massively parallel quantum computer, with the microtubules in the neurons of the brain being the likely quantum hologram
receptors. It has been suggested that the quantum hologram is the wave portion of the wave-particle duality for macroscale objects. It has
also been proposed that the quantum hologram may tie the phenomenal universe of quantum, micro, macro, and cosmic-sized
phenomena together, and that the quantum hologram may be the mechanism through which nature learns. This knowledge implies that the
quantum hologram may be the basis for all perception, including psychic awareness. It also suggests that true psychic sight is not a sixth
sense, but rather the first, because it may very well have been around since the Big Bang.39
Nonlocal information about the physical universe provides the missing link between objective science and subjective experience, including
the mystical experience. Based on the principle of nonlocality and with the quantum array antennae of cytoskeletal networks, the brain is in
resonance with the whole universe. If the brain truly contains the whole cosmos, like a hologram, then the perennial wisdom of “As above, so
below,” (or: “As within, so without”), “The kingdom of heaven is within you,” and “Look within; you are the Buddha” obtains a fresh perspective,
and there is hope for the integration of these ideas into Western rational thinking. The cytoskeletal matrix can be the mediator of the Jungian
collective unconscious, and cytoskeletal quantum holography can explain a very common but obscure phenomenon known as intuition.
THE DIRECT–INTUITIVE–NONLOCAL MIND: A SECOND FOUNDATION OF KNOWLEDGE?
We must close our eyes and invoke a new manner of seeing . . . a wakefulness that is the birthright of us all, though few put it to use.
PLOTINUS
Ritual ceremonies and other spiritual practices based on the integrative forms of altered states of consciousness—an integrative ASC,
contrasted with a disintegrative state such as psychosis or drunkenness, results in healing—seem to elude neuroscientific explanations based
on classical cognition, which can be conceptualized as a perceptual–cognitive–symbolic way of information-processing characteristic of
ordinary states of consciousness. This can be contrasted with another mode of information processing based on nonlocal connections,
denoted here as direct–intuitive–nonlocal.
The perceptual–cognitive–symbolic mode is neuroaxonally based and relies on sensory perception, cognitive processing, and symbolic
(verbal, logical, and visual language) mediation. This form of information-processing is an indirect way of achieving knowledge compared to
the direct–intuitive–nonlocal method. In accordance with the indirect nature of its processing, this mode splits the world into subject and object,
and then performs modeling. Its linguistic feature makes this mode culturally bound with knowledge transferable between individuals of the
same culture. The perceptual–cognitive–symbolic method of information processing has been evolved evolutionally for the purpose of task
solving, represents a “coping machine” at work, and reaches its peak in Western scientific thinking.
The introduction of a direct–intuitive–nonlocal channel is necessary for an ontological interpretation of the integrative ASC such as the
shamanic state of consciousness. Supposedly, this mode of accessing knowledge is based on subcellular, cytoskeletal functions, provides
direct experience bypassing sensory organs without splitting to subject and object, and is not bound by language or other symbols. Because
the direct–intuitive–nonlocal channel lacks symbolic–linguistic mediation, it has universal characteristics and shows more transcultural
similarity, although culture-specific interpretations exist. This may be why mystics, as compared to materialistic scientists, get better agreement
comparing their “data.”
David Lewis-William and David Pearce write in their book Inside the Neolithic Mind:40 “In altered states of consciousness the nervous
system itself becomes a ‘sixth sense.’” We can agree with this and add that it is the cytoskeletal system that acts as a sixth sense. Regretfully,
Lewis-Williams and Pearce navigate to the calm waters of academical concepts: “. . . [T]hat produces a variety of images including entoptic
phenomena. The brain attempts to recognize, or decode, [these] forms as it does with impressions supplied by the nervous system in a normal
state of consciousness.” They are right, as are most of the authors who emphasize the “made-up” quality of the ASC. I am not arguing here for
the ontological validation of every experience in an ASC, but instead for those few, very informative ones in integrative ASCs.
The direct–intuitive–nonlocal perception of the world also requires rigorous training for its highest development, as is common in all fields. It
takes decades to train an indigenous shaman because the direct– intuitive–nonlocal route into the realm of nonordinary consciousness is
seemingly capricious; its denizens are so unpredictable, and our perceptual–cognitive–symbolic mind is so unprepared, being incapable of
distinguishing between what is personal and what is impersonal. What can be nourished can be atrophied as well, as has occurred in Western
civilization, where the direct–intuitive–nonlocal channel has become “forgotten knowledge.” Perhaps this was the source of ancient myths.
Giving credit to mythical knowledge also means that the teachings of ancient myths and wisdom tradition should be considered as starting
points for developing modern scientific theories and that they deserve to be tested as “working hypotheses” by the scientific method.
Gaining control is the means, the modus operandi, of the “coping machine” that is essential for the functioning of the perceptual– cognitive–
symbolic mode. On the other hand, the need for control (control freakiness) is entirely incompatible with the direct–intuitive– nonlocal approach.
Lao-tzu defines wisdom as “complete willingness to be the plaything of chance circumstances.” Surrender opens the doors of a new way of
perception. Every success of the coping machinery, such as fame, position, money, or another form of social acceptance, empowers the ego—
unless the individual interprets his or her achievements as gifts from the “outside,” “from above,” and considers the self as a vessel, a mediator
of majestic powers. Identifying too strongly with the agent of perceptual–cognitive–symbolic processing suppresses the direct–intuitive–
nonlocal way. As Matthew 19:24 relates: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom
of God.” Wisdom traditions usually recommend a humble attitude for approaching the spiritual realm. Without humility, the full potency of this
realm remains hidden beyond the veil.
Christianity’s preoccupation with Original Sin is in essence the declaration of humans’ inborn moral incompetence. Promotion of feelings of
guilt is a powerful tool for controlling people and for supporting ruling hierarchies at the same time. Perhaps there is no need to use guilt as a
method to smash the ego; elimination of ego-inflation might be enough for opening the doors of new perception, and what is left of the ego can
be used in the service of the common good. In the realm of the mystical Beyond, the opposite of control freakiness is not loss of control, but
rather the delegation of control to spiritual protectors. That may be sufficient for mitigating ego’s overwhelming influence.
The perceptual–cognitive–symbolic foundation of knowledge is a result of the brain’s interactions with the local aspects of the universe. The
direct–intuitive–nonlocal perception of the world derives from the nonlocal features of the cosmos. In other words, the local universe of the
classical, Newtonian worldview is the reality of our ordinary consciousness, based on the perceptual–cognitive–symbolic process. On the other
hand, the mind’s interfacing with the nonlocal universe (revealed by modern physics) generates the reality of nonordinary states.
We consider these issues in order to explicate the wisdom of perennial philosophy, which states that there are two realms of reality. The
physical or phenomenal world is not the only reality; another nonphysical (i.e., nonclassical) realm exists. The Buddha rejected complexity of
doctrine. His true understanding of the nature of reality was based on the direct experience (direct–intuitive–nonlocal) of that which cannot be
put into writing (the principle of ineffability) and on the communion of the spirit (the latter, in our words: cytoskeletally mediated the universe with
the help of quantum entanglement).
Besides stratification of reality, according to different states of consciousness, an intriguing corollary of these hypotheses is that intuition
becomes a valid source of information. That is, intuition can now be liberated from being some vague offshoot of a multimodal, parallel-
processing function of the perceptual–cognitive–symbolic mode. It belongs entirely to the nonlocal channel, which means that when we are
talking about intuition and psychic processes—or indeed, any phenomenon belonging to the field of parapsychology—there is a quantum
hologram with nonlocal correlations underlying the process. Nonlocality is to the physicist what interconnectedness is to the mystic, and the
quantum hologram is the foundation through which to understand virtually all paranormal phenomena.
Accepting the direct–intuitive–nonlocal as the second foundation of knowledge, obscure phenomena such as channeling and divination can
be viewed from a new perspective. Channeling is a unique way of gaining intuitive information that has been known for centuries.41 It is a
communication of information to or through a person from a supernatural agency. As such, it represents a form of a broader concept known as
divination, which is an attempt to obtain information from supernatural sources. In many instances, the channeled information can stem from the
channeler’s own mind, but some experts in the field42 are quite certain that not all channeled information can be traced to the channeler’s
individual mind. Channeling can be conceptualized by drawing a parallel between it and the tunneling effect.43 Just as an elementary particle
can show up in space, where its presence is impossible according to classical laws of physics, in channeling (and in divination as well),
information surfaces where and when it is unexpected according to mainstream views.
In ordinary state of consciousness, the dominant input of the cognitive–symbolic processing is perceptual. In integrative ASC, a shift may
occur with significantly more intuitive–nonlocal information passing through cognitive workup and taking the shape of symbolic expressions. If
data of nonlocal origin enter the sensory cortex, those would be projected into the perceptual field in the form of visions and apparitions. The
body, the somatic center of the “skin-encapsulated” ego, serves as an anchoring point for the perceptual–cognitive–symbolic processing. This
reference center is missing in cases of out-of-body experiences (OBEs), when nonlocal data serve the main input of cognitive–symbolic
processing with consequential projections into the perceptual field. For the subject, his or her perception during the experience is of colorful
scenery and successive external events, whereas the journey actually happens in the quantum hologram of the subcellular matrix. Scholars
judging OBEs as mental projections are right. However, the projectional element of the OBE is not entirely in denial with the validity of the
information received.
The outlined dualism of human knowledge resembles Julian Jaynes’s “bicameral mind,”44 but we are not concerned as much about a left
right hemispheric distribution of work as about an up–down division between neural and cytoskeletal (nanoneurological) function. The detailed
neuroaxonal and subneural processing serve as the basis of the two modes of wisdom known in esoteric traditions for millennia. As Rabbi Joel
David Bakst puts it:
According to the teachings of esoteric Judaism, all knowledge, both spiritual and material wisdom, originally coexisted in a seamless unity
within a higher dimension. Together these two modes of wisdom comprised a larger, all-encompassing Universal Torah (Torah meaning
“Teachings”). A collapse, however, ensued in which the database of all knowledge split itself into “spiritual” and “material” planes of
existence. Thus, we have the basis for the historical conflict between “religion” and “science.” Yet, any given mystical or technological truth
can only be one of two sides of the same puzzle. Thus, the material world is also a mode of spirituality, only externalized and concretized.
Vice versa, the spiritual world is a mode of the material reality, only internalized and spiritualized. The ultimate truth is not revealed through
the supra-natural alone nor is it only discovered through scientific development—it is more than both.45
As we discussed previously, technological truth (that is, the rational perceptual–cognitive–symbolic truth) reflects regularities of sequential
events observed from the local aspect of the universe, and mystical knowledge (that is, the irrational direct–intuitive–nonlocal knowledge)
results from experiencing correlations that originate from quantum entanglement within the nonlocal frame of reality.*8 The split must be
eliminated, however. As Rabbi Bakst writes:
Both forms of wisdom are destined to reunite with each other. Perforce, this is stimulating a worldwide paradigm shift in consciousness.
This stage of global evolution is the Messianic Era that is central to the teachings of esoteric as well as traditional Judaism. Our role in the
re-unification of these two modes of wisdom, according to this doctrine, is achieved by matching the right tool with the right job. In other
words, we must use the new maps, models and metaphors of the “wisdom from below” in order to grasp the “wisdom from above.” In turn,
the transcendent wisdom of the Torah will cast its light of clarity and direction upon the enchanting and often over-powering tools of science
and technology.46
This is exactly what this chapter has been trying to accomplish: providing a new neurobiological model and new metaphors. Those clumsy
word amalgams such as perceptual–cognitive–symbolic and direct–intuitive–nonlocal are efforts to express the two forms of wisdom in a
self-definitive manner. As Rabbi Bakst wrote in a personal communication,
I would only like to [emphasize] that the two modes—the various amalgams we are compelled to conjure up or the ancient terms the Torah
and the rabbis use to quantify them—are equally necessary and, in their roots eternal . . . but they are not equivalent. In other words,
“localized” science relative to “non-localized” Supernal Wisdom is always as a body to a soul, a vessel to its light, a glove to its hand. Yet,
when they are truly united, as they were before the collapse of the higher dimension, each reveals endless truths contained within each
other! Now, that is a real marriage made in heaven!”
The dualism in information-processing carries consequences for artificial intelligence (AI): There are efforts to model the neural perceptual–
cognitive–symbolic mode, but what about the subneural direct–intuitive–nonlocal one? Where is the nanotechnology for creating a quantum
holograph of the universe, a “machine with soul,” a computer capable of accessing the spiritual? We should be very disappointed by the ever-
returning futuristic idea that numerous distinguished thinkers entertain of replacing neurons with silicon chips and “downloading” our
consciousness into an artificial brain for the purpose of “mind cloning.” This kind of mentality—so characteristic of current AI research—carries
the bias of radical reductionism: it zooms in on modeling the neuroaxonal and forgets about emulation of other networks that contribute to the
phenomenon of consciousness.
KEYS TO NONLOCAL REALMS
The use of psychedelic drugs, monotonous drumming, repeated refrains of chanting, extreme fatigue, strict fasting, frenzied dancing, and so
forth during traditional rituals results in the breakdown of ordinary cognition. The outcome is neither chaotic behavior nor insanity. A shift occurs
when the coping capacity of perceptual–cognitive–symbolic processing is exhausted in a stressful, unmanageable situation, when the “coping
machine” cannot handle the situation (this might be the hidden agenda of the Zen koans, when the Zen master continuously frustrates the
novice’s cognition by paradoxes), or when its influence is turned off in meditation or eliminated by the use of a powerful psychedelic. Then the
spiritual universe opens up in the quantum hologram of the direct–intuitive–nonlocal channel, with its particular content projected into the
machinery of the neuroaxonal system, a process shaped by set and setting.
Rick Strassman has hypothesized that levels of dimethyltryptamine (DMT), the endogenous psychedelic compound in the brain, is released
in near-death experiences or in religious ecstasy or by means of ritual techniques (spirit quest, shamanic initiation).47 Psychedelic drugs in
general, and DMT in particular, are some of the most powerful keys to hell or heaven. Proper doses dissolve ego boundaries. In conditions of
total ego-loss, reason recedes as the mind’s fundamental orienting function and the new compass must be faith—not inflated faith, which
substitutes for empirical experience, but faith in service of the self. Reason is in service of the body-centered, skin-encapsulated individual ego,
and the ego can barely guide someone under the influence of a powerful psychedelic or in some other ASC. In the mystical Beyond, in nonlocal
realms, faith, guardian angels, or spirit guides can do a better job.
SPIRITED AWAY
Communication with spirits is a key feature of shamanic practice as well as serious mental illness. Where is the difference, then? Perhaps
spirits may exist not only in the mind of a psychotic (seriously mentally ill) patient but also “outside” as projected mediators of nonlocal
information emerging inside of a person with psychic skills. Spirits are not necessarily projections of unconscious conflicts or complexes
(although they may certainly be). They have specific structure and carry information existing in the realm of the direct–intuitive–nonlocal
approach. Bypassing the perceptual stage, that information can be brought directly into cognitive–symbolic processing and expressed
linguistically in a culture-specific manner. Spiritual beings originating from nonlocal apperceptions have more informative value than do the
ghosts of intrapsychic projections. That is one important difference between shamanic healers and schizophrenic patients. Shamanic healers
enter an integrative form of an ASC purposefully in service of the community, while schizophrenic patients fall hopelessly into a disintegrative
form of an ASC and are unable to bring out any socially useful information from that condition. The main tenet of this chapter is that the
difference between psychosis and shamanic states of consciousness is lack of (in psychosis) and presence of (in a shamanic ASC) an
integrative information-gaining process from the nonlocal domain.
“How could you, a mathematician, believe that extraterrestrials were sending you messages?” a visitor from Harvard asked the
mathematician John Nash, one of the founders of game theory and Nobel Prize laureate in economics who suffered from schizophrenic
disorder. “Because the ideas I had about supernatural beings came to me the same way my mathematical ideas did,” was Nash’s answer. “So
I took them seriously.” Thus begins Nash’s story, a tale of a mathematical genius who slipped into madness and emerged after decades of
ghostlike existence to win a Nobel Prize and inspire a major motion picture, A Beautiful Mind.48 His statement is an excellent example of the
occurrence of both integrative and disintegrative ASCs in the same person.
In his book The Cosmic Serpent, Jeremy Narby presents the hypothesis that shamans take consciousness down to the molecular level and
gain access in their visions to information related to DNA, which they call “animate spirits.49 In essence, Narby got it right. The DNA, packed in
chromosomes, is closely related to the microtubular system. There are avant-garde, very nonmainstream theories about DNA being not an
originator but rather a receiver of morphogenetic (structure forming) information “lying out there” (that is, in the nonlocal domain). It follows from
the conceptual framework of this chapter that DNA receives information from the microtubular network, which is considered the antenna of
nonlocal information. With the help of the genetic code, DNA translates that biologically relevant information into the language of protein
synthesis in the same way the neuroaxonal system translates the direct– intuitive–nonlocal information into the concepts of cognitive–symbolic
processing. In my opinion, Narby’s shaman does not gain knowledge about the double helix from the DNA itself; rather, his neuroaxonal system
accesses the same nonlocal source that the DNA molecule does!
TRUE HALLUCINATIONS
Shamanic states of consciousness constitute profound changes of perception that can include visual, auditory, olfactory (smell-related),
gustatory (taste-related), and somatic (bodily) illusions or hallucinations as well as synesthesia, the blending of sensory modalities (for
example, sounds that are perceived as images or colors that are perceived as smells). Nonlocal information can also blend with perceptions of
the local aspects of an object or person. An illuminated healer can perceive an aura around the sick person and use its embedded information
for therapeutic purposes. Auras in the presented model appear when synesthesia occurs between the two modalities of information processing
(local and nonlocal). This kind of aura is different from visualized electromagnetic fields surrounding living or inanimate objects and cannot be
photographed using Kirlian photography. Viewing auras entails the conversion of nonlocal information to visual percept with projection to the
local realm of reality. Though no mental projection can be recorded instrumentally, this form conveys relevant information; therefore, some sort
of reality must be attributed to it.
The outlined conceptualization of auras sets the stage for an interpretation of visionary experiences that is at odds with the current academic
view. There is an unspoken assumption within scientific circles—based on the experiences of psychotic, schizophrenic individuals—that the
brain simply fabricates hallucinations, whereas, with the images of normal perception, the brain perceives relevant data from the outside world.
Both sides of this assumption have some aspect of truth, but both are hopelessly narrow in scope. The brain is not a passive receiver in the
process of normal perception: cognitive psychologists have clarified its active role. Visionary hallucinations originating from integrative ASCs
h a v e i n f o r m a t i v e v a l u e a n d t h e r e f o r e s h o u l d b e r e g a r d e d a s m o r e t h a n m e r e f a b r i c a t i o n s . W o u l d i t n o t b e m o r e c o n s i s t e n t t o s t a t e t h a t o u r
brain is both a receiver and a manufacturer of percepts regardless of whether those are normal or visionary? In conclusion: the brain handles
t h e d a t a t h e s a m e w h e t h e r c o m i n g f r o m t h e l o c a l o r t h e n o n l o c a l d o m a i n o f r e a l i t y . T h e f o r m e r i s a c c e p t e d a s n o r m a l p e r c e p t i o n , t h e l a t t e r c a n
be conceptualized as a hallucination (vision) of the integrative type.
M A S T E R S O F N O N L O C A L I T Y
Shamans are the masters, though not the only ones, of nonlocal realms. In the shamanic state they shift their consciousness from the
n e u r o a x o n a l m o d e t o t h e s u b n e u r a l o n e , e n t e r t h e q u a n t u m h o l o g r a m s t o r e d i n t h e v e r y i n t r i c a t e n e t w o r k o f t h e s u b c e l l u l a r s y s t e m s o f t h e i r b o d y
and journey there. They are in and out at the same time. I suppose that it is the nonlocal correlations that make the out-of-body experience
possible. After navigating through nonlocal realms within the quantum hologram, shamans are able to bring information into the local aspect of
t h e u n i v e r s e b y m a s t e r i n g n o n l o c a l c o n n e c t i o n s . I n e s s e n c e , t h e y m a n i p u l a t e n o n l o c a l c o r r e l a t i o n s a n d t h e i r c o n v e r s i o n i n t o l o c a l i n f o r m a t i o n ,
w h i c h m a y i n v o l v e t h e t r a n s f e r o f d i r e c t i n t u i t i v e n o n l o c a l e x p e r i e n c e p e r t i n e n t f o r h e a l i n g t o t h e l e v e l o f c o g n i t i v e s y m b o l i c p r o c e s s i n g . Y e t t h e y
are humble, respecting the tenets of Albert Einstein and obeying the law of relativity. An authentic shaman does not exchange clear,
quantifiable information in a replicable manner with supraluminal speed, but acquires new information with some uncertainty, expressing it in
v a g u e t e r m s a n d s y m b o l s t h a t c a n b e u n d e r s t a n d o n l y w i t h i n t h e f r a m e w o r k o f s h a m a n i c b e l i e f s y s t e m . A s M a t t i P i t k a n e n p h r a s e d i t i n a
personal communication:
Sharing of mental images by quantum entanglement could be one mechanism that makes possible instantaneous sharing of information. .
. . I t m i g h t b e t h a t l i m i t s i n t h e s p e e d o f p r o p a g a t i o n o f t h e i n f o r m a t i o n p o s e d b y t h e l i g h t v e l o c i t y d o n o t p r o d u c e p r o b l e m s h e r e , s i n c e t h e
shaman becomes part of a system which can be arbitrarily large. Interpretation is, however, a problem, since it must be carried out in the
conceptual framework provided by the cultural background.
V e r i f i a b l e ( i . e . , r e p l i c a b l e ) i n f o r m a t i o n e x c h a n g e r e q u i r e s t r a n s f e r a t l u m i n a l s p e e d a n d o c c u r s o n t h e l o c a l l e v e l w i t h i n c l a s s i c a l , t h o u g h
r e l a t i v i s t i c , s p a c e t i m e b o u n d a r i e s . S i g n a l n o n l o c a l i t y p r o v i d e s s u p r a l u m i n a l b u t s o m e w h a t n e b u l o u s i n f o r m a t i o n . T h e r e f o r e , e v e n t h e m o s t
h o n e s t a n d r e s p e c t a b l e m a s t e r o f n o n l o c a l i t y i s o v e r s h a d o w e d b y c h a r a c t e r f e a t u r e s o f a c h a r l a t a n o r t r i c k s t e r i n t h e e y e o f t h e r a t i o n a l
beholder.
R E D U C T I O A D A B S U R D U M
I n t h e f i n a l p a r t o f t h i s c h a p t e r , w e l o o k a t a g e n e r a l i z a t i o n r e g a r d i n g t h e l a w o f n e u r a l p r u n i n g . T h e l a w s t a t e s t h a t d u r i n g c r i t i c a l p e r i o d s o f
ontogenesis and before important developmental milestones, there is a strictly programmed, finely patterned, marked reduction in
progressively smaller elements of the information processing system of the brain (see box on page 205). Due to our programmed neuron
death, we are born with significantly fewer nerve cells than we have during intrauterine life. In the neuro-Darwinian selection model of Gerald
Edelman, this program is described as neurons competing with each other for survival. During the first two years of life, there is a reduction of
axo n-arbor izati on ( p r o d u c t i o n o f n e w n e r v e f i b e r s ) , w h i c h i s p r o b a b l y r e l a t e d t o t h e d e v e l o p m e n t o f c r i t i c a l p e r i o d s o f p e r c e p t i o n ,
communication, and socialization. In puberty, pruning of synapses establishes neuroaxonal conditions for abstract thinking, marking the onset
of Jean Piaget’s formal operations stage. Thus, more is not better for the brain. The pruning process in question is strictly programmed,
h o w e v e r , a n d f o l l o w s c e r t a i n r u l e s i n p a r t i c u l a r e n v i r o n m e n t a l c o n d i t i o n s . T h i s i s u n l i k e t h e n e u r a l d i e b a c k r e s u l t i n g f r o m t h e t o x i c i t y o f a l c o h o l i n
an alcoholic.
T h e G e n e r a l i z e d L a w o f P r u n i n g
D u r i n g c r i t i c a l p e r i o d s o f p e r s o n a l g r o w t h a n d b e f o r e i m p o r t a n t d e v e l o p m e n t a l s t e p s , t h e r e i s a s t r i c t l y p r o g r a m e d , f i n e l y p a t t e r n e d , v e r y m a r k e d r e d u c t i o n i n p r o g r e s s i v e l y
smaller elements of the information-processing system of the brain.
I n t r a u t e r i n e l i f e : p r o g r a m m e d n e u r o n d e a t h ( n e u r o - D a r w i n i a n s e l e c t i o n m o d e l o f E d e l m a n ) ;
F i r s t t w o y e a r s : r e d u c t i o n o f a x o n - a r b o r i z a t i o n ( c r i t i c a l p e r i o d s o f p e r c e p t i o n , c o m m u n i c a t i o n , s o c i a l i z a t i o n ) ;
I n a d o l e s c e n c e : s y n a p t i c p r u n i n g ( P i a g e t s s t a g e o f f o r m a l o p e r a t i o n s , a b s t r a c t t h i n k i n g ) ;
N o n d u a l c o n s c i o u s n e s s , J u n g i a n i n d i v i d u a t i o n m a y b e r e l a t e d t o p r u n i n g o f t h e m i c r o t u b u l a r s y s t e m ( s e e H a m e r o f f s m o d e l ) ;
B i o l o g i c a l d e a t h n i r v a n a ( a f t e r l i v i n g p r o p e r l y ) : r e d u c t i o n ( b u t n o t e l i m i n a t i o n ) o f t h e p a t t e r n o f s p a c e t i m e l e f t a f t e r t h e f u n c t i o n i n g b r a i n ( b a s e d o n P e n r o s e s O r c h
O R m o d e l ) .
Current neuroscientific thinking stops at this point (indicated by the dotted line in the box above). Yet do we ever complete this pruning
procedure? Probably not. High stages of consciousness (nondual consciousness in Ken Wilber’s model) or the Jungian individuation may
be related to pruning of the microtubular system, as is found in Hameroff’s model. At our final exit, at the time of biological death, there is
an ultimate step in the reduction (but not a total elimination) of the fabric of space–time left behind by the functioning brain. This idea is
connected to Penrose’s space–time geometry model of consciousness—based on spinor networks seen at the bottom level of figure 7.3
on page 184.
Can the last step in pruning be related to the 1urvival of the soul? Here we have arrived at what Socrates, the father of European ration-
alism (and irrationalism), said: “The mind will find the final truth after leaving the body.” Socrates believed that once the soul dissociates
from the body after death, we are able to engage in pure thought without any deceit from the senses. Stuart Hameroff puts it this way: “ . . .
when the metabolism . . . is lost, the quantum information leaks out to the space–time geometry in the Universe at large. Being holographic
and entangled, it doesn’t dissipate. Hence consciousness (or dream-like subconsciousness) can persist.”
This chapter has tried to explain something not accepted by the mainstream in terms of something else not accepted by the mainstream.
Certainly, this is not the best way to get the approval of the mainstream. Even more provocative, we may challenge the following concepts
belonging to the foundation of current Western rational thinking:
All information comes through the sensory organs, and we can know nothing that does not pass through the senses.
A
There is one unilayered reality.
Only a person liberated from the overwhelming power of these dogmas can understand how the inside and outside paths will eventually
converge in consciousness, how by consistently looking inward we can go beyond, and how within becomes beyond. We may find similar
claims and statements in New Age literature. Yet I come from a neuroscience background and am thus approaching these issues from a
scientific worldview. Nevertheless, if those who read this feel that their own basic tenets of viewing things have been threatened by this
discussion, then perhaps this chapter has fulfilled its goal.
8
How can Shamans Talk with Plants and Animals?
The Topological Roots of Plant Consciousness and Interspecies Communication
Ede Frecska, M.D.
Vegetalistas, like their counterparts, the Indian shamans of many indigenous groups of the Upper Amazon, claim to derive healing
skills and powers from certain plant teachers, often psychoactive, believed to be their mother. Knowledge, particularly medicinal
knowledge, comes from the plants themselves; the senior shaman only mediating the transmission of information . . .
LUNA AND AMARINGO,
AYAHUASCA VISIONS: THE ICONOGRAPHY
OF A PERUVIAN SHAMAN
In life sciences, plants are considered inferior organisms that passively adapt to different temperature, soil types, injuries, diseases, and
physico-chemical and biological conditions. You may ask, “So what? Plants are vegetables, aren’t they?” At odds with the canonized scientific
and commonly held layperson’s view, the traditional idea is of plants being more than helpless objects of elementary forces; they are interactive
or—even more—proactive, conscious beings. The concept of plant consciousness—in the form of plant spirits—can be traced back to the
Middle Ages, and from there to a much earlier time. Even nowadays, aboriginal peoples on five continents believe that plants have spirits or
that certain trees are inhabited by their ancestors, and, as the epigraph to this chapter indicates, they claim that knowledge can be acquired
from plant teachers.
The relationship between indigenous people and nature is based on shamanistic beliefs that shape adaptive behavioral patterns and
provide the foundation for social structures in tribal communities. In the belief system of indigenous cultures, every plant and animal, all forests
and meadows, lakes and rivers, mountains and caves have a consciousness of their own. Such notions were cast out entirely from the Western
rational mind-set during the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment. For the skeptic, these beliefs are ridiculous superstitions and
expressions of primitive, magical thinking. That everything in nature might have spirits and that some sort of sentience can be attributed to both
living creatures and material objects have been widespread beliefs for millennia in aboriginal cultures. We cannot, then, consider such
persistent, transcultural tenets to be useless, primitive misconceptions that have no adaptive value at all and that reflect nothing relevant in
nature.
Is there any way to prove that animistic thinking is more than just pure fiction, that it might contain some truth? Definitely not yet. The only thing
we can do in this chapter is to show a way toward rationalization by paying respect to what other people think and state about the world.
Cultural relativism and linear Darwinism are not necessarily to be believed: the former has a tendency to give equal credit to every cultural
accomplishment and the latter posits that the more we go back in time, the more we find primitive ways of thinking.
Here in this chapter we also try to avoid the typical mistakes that passionate New Age thinkers are prone to make. Recently, the concept of
plant consciousness has received attention in New Age literature from plant healers, psychic mediums, and “green thumb” gardeners— those
who claim to sense plants on subtle levels and carry on meaningful communication with their spirits. Most of the time, these writers discuss their
uncontrolled experiences and speculative ideas in superficial ways, ignoring scientific scrutiny and bypassing peer-reviewed journals. The
result is that plant consciousness is not taken seriously by well-established scientists, botanists, biologists, and ecologists, or respected
scholars of consciousness studies; its proponents are persona non grata in the exclusive club of mainstream science.
DARWIN’S FORGOTTEN IDEA
Because of the widespread assumption that neural networks are necessary for consciousness, common sense does not allow for even the
possibility that plants are conscious. Hand in hand with the academic view, common sense ties consciousness to neuroaxonal organization but
overlooks the possibility that “the Universe emulates itself on every level.”1 According to this notion, similar experiences may result in other
structures below, above, or on the same plane of existence.
Charles Darwin did not overlook this possibility. In studying botany, he noticed that root formations and the network of rootlets show
organization similar to that of human brain tissue. In his time, little was known about brain anatomy and information-processing in complex
systems. Therefore, his observation has been deemed superficial analogy and has not been taken more seriously. We must keep in mind that
90 percent of our current knowledge regarding brain function has been acquired only during the last two decades. Perhaps it is time to
reexamine Darwin’s forgotten idea. Here we consider a representative sample of affirmative claims addressing plant consciousness. This
chapter will analyze the concept together with unorthodox views regarding animal communication and interpret them within a topological model
of consciousness, which goes beyond the traditional neuroaxonal framework.
PLANTS UNDER THE LIE DETECTOR
A review of experiments conducted on plant consciousness and a critical evaluation of their results may help us to form our own opinions
regarding whether plants are sentient, conscious beings. Cleve Backster, a leading expert on polygraph machines, conducted pioneering
studies in the field of plant consciousness. In 1966, he introduced polygraph research into an entirely new area by hooking up a Dracaena cane
plant to a polygraph machine in order to detect its rate of water consumption.2 Backster was interested in how fast water travels from the plant’s
roots all the way up to the leaves, and thought that the polygraph could indicate the rising of the water by noting changes in plant-surface
resistance. He noted that the plant showed unexpected responses as he moved the Dracaena around the laboratory, with reactions resembling
human galvanic skin responses. Struck by this surprising finding, he applied different stimuli to the plant. Once, he decided to burn one of his
plant’s leaves. When Backster even thought about setting fire to a leaf, he faced the following reaction: “Then at thirteen minutes, fifty-five
seconds chart time, the imagery entered my mind of burning the leaf I was testing. I didn’t verbalize, I didn’t touch the plant, and I didn’t touch the
equipment. The only new thing that could have been a stimulus for the plant was the mental image. Yet the plant went wild. The pen jumped right
off the top of the chart.”
He assumed that the plant somehow sensed his intentions and showed signs of distress. Pretending did not work; in order to get strong
galvanic reactions from the plant, his intentions had to be serious. Backster’s plant was not only concerned with his hostile plans toward them,
but also seemed to be empathetic with regard to the suffering of others: when he caused harm to other living organisms, his plant responded
strongly to these other beings’ distress. Distance was not an issue; remote perception seemed to be at work: Backster could leave a plant
alone while he sat in a bar and talked with friends, and the polygraph device would indicate the plant’s reactions to the mood changes he was
experiencing during the conversation. Independence from distance has also been reported in publications of prayer experiments: plants at
remote locations that had been prayed for did better than nearby plants that were ignored.3 Marcel Vogel also noticed that distance did not
affect his results.4 Galvanic recordings of plants connected to a polygraph machine correlated with the experimenter’s emotions and actions
even when the plants and the human were miles apart, as in Backster’s case.
Cleve Backster concluded that plants have primary perception ability, as indicated by polygraph tests; otherwise, how could the galvanic
responses have varied so abruptly, and in accordance with events happening in their surroundings? Backster was careful to avoid the para-
psychologically charged term extrasensory perception, because he did not see that, in the first place, plants have senses as we usually
understand them.
Nevertheless, the scientific community at large has not accepted the work of Backster and his followers. Most of the academic researchers
were unable to replicate their results. The problem with studies of this kind is that usually the investigator is as much a part of the experimental
setting as the tested plant itself. Those who side with Backster may argue that the sensitivity of the human involved is critically important. An
attitude of rigorous analytical distancing can be the reason for the failure of many objective experiments with plants. According to Vogel, there
is “a precise and important interaction between the experimenter and the plant which is equal in importance to the equipment being used.”5 He
suggested that in successful human–plant communication, human beings must assume the role of active agent by “sensitizing” the plant to be
receptive to human attitudes and emotions.
SMART VEGETABLES
Even if primary perception does exist in plants, this does not necessarily mean that plants are conscious. We may interpret most of plant
behavior as instinctive, but this term is as vague—if not more so—than the concept of consciousness itself. If (as Rupert Sheldrake suggests)
there is a trend in current knowledge to grant animals some level of consciousness due to the signs of self-awareness, deceptive skills, and
cooperative behavior observed in many animal species, why should we not attribute to plants some sort of consciousness for similar reasons?
Indeed, there are plant experiments with results that point in just this direction. Experiments with Ambrosia roots have indicated that these
plants are capable of self-recognition through differentiation between self and nonself, an ability that has been considered by some as basic for
self-aware beings: the root system of the Ambrosia plant detects and avoids other Ambrosia plants and plants of different species, indicating
self-recognition. The mechanism that helps the plant differentiate between the roots of other plants and its own is unknown, but can be
interpreted on a molecular level. Likewise, it is essential for the human immune system to differentiate between self and nonself by chemical
means, without resorting to conscious processes. Further, as far as defensive tactics are concerned, there are flowers that detect the approach
of pests that visit to steal their nectar, and react by closing up when these insects are nearby.
Plants can orient themselves in space, as indicated by their coordinated movements when they are searching out objects or avoiding
obstacles. In an environment where a plant is growing, it will grow toward hidden support and entirely ignore areas without potential support.
Plants are able to “run” a maze for light, as laboratory animals do for food: in a mazelike structure with several blind alleys, a vine planted at the
closed, dark end can find its way toward the light at the far end without making an error. In addition, we might watch our words if a plant is
nearby! Early on, some researchers noticed that both speaking nicely to plants and verbally abusing them influence their growth.6 This
observatio was later corroborated by others: Hoffman reported that tomato plants exposed to gently spoken words on a daily basis produced
23 percent more tomatoes than control plants, which had identical treatment but were not spoken to.7 Perhaps it is not the words but the
positive intent that plants perceive, for psychic healers claim to influence seed germination significantly by adding “positive energyto the
process.8
To those who might think that this review is either getting close to or going over the edge regarding the concept of plant consciousness, here
is an excerpt from the communication with a corn deva,*9 or spirit, as channeled by Robert Shapiro. This indicates how much some psychics
attribute superhuman intelligence to devas.
I am the plant you refer to as corn. I speak to you as the Deva associated with our superconsciousness, the Corn Goddess. I have a very
strong spiritual body that not only connects me cosmically to my point of origin but also embraces the earth as a nurturing parent. When I
am planted in a field, I choose to feel every row and plant as a unit. Therefore, I do not experience spatial references in the same way as
you; I feel myself as the entire field of plants. When an area of corn is accidentally destroyed, some element of protest is expressed from
the rest of the corn. Corn shrivels a bit or makes a sound that only the observant farmer notices. I do not shrink out of fear; instead I
understand that I am here to sustain you. I am prepared, at any moment, to offer myself in support of my true purpose on this planet. I have
a sense of touch similar to that of the human being. I know when I am touched, and I am aware when someone or something is near that is
not of my own kind. I have a strong energy field that radiates with an awareness of up to six feet. I have an ability to respond to the change
in weather conditions and to the changes from day to night.9
If we put aside the notion that Shapiro’s channeling may have become tainted by some New Age terminology and an agenda during the
“download” process, and note in addition that the claims of indigenous shamans and contemporary psychics are valid, then we may entertain
the possibility that plants not only have some sort of consciousness, but also are extremely intelligent and resourceful beings. Notwithstanding,
this consciousness must be very different from our own in that only very special humans are able to recognize it. Thus, it can be easily missed
by insensitive analytical approaches. It is possible that our prejudicial mind-set, overadapted nature, and lack of sensitivity have led to a
diminished ability to recognize consciousness in any form other than our own.
BEYOND THE HORSE’S MOUTH
Amelia Kinkade, author of the book Straight from the Horses Mouth,10 is an internationally renowned professional interspecies communicator.
In this book, she shares her expertise with all readers and assumes that everyone harbors a dormant innate ability to communicate with
animals wordlessly and without gestures. She is certain that the only barrier separating people from any other animal is skepticism.
To begin communicating effectively, we must tap into our clairsentience (sensing or feeling of a being’s energy) and believe that an animal’s
feelings matter. The next step involves using clairaudiencethat is, learning how to see pictures in an animal’s mind and then exchange
images with the animal. Also available to us is a sort of X-ray imaging process that can be used to get inside an animal’s body to determine
the source or cause of illness or to find a missing pet. All of these involve intuition whose function is increased by guided imagery, meditation,
and other exercises. In using these types of intuition, claims Kinkade, we can literally learn to talk with pets—sharing memories or making plans
with them, negotiating house rules, mediating sibling rivalries, diagnosing illness, tracking a disappearance, accepting one another’s
differences, and finding each other again. Apollo 14 Astronaut Captain Edgar Mitchell concurs: “Amelia Kinkade’s rapport with animals of all
species is quite amazing and consistent. Her talent and effort is helping to overturn centuries of false beliefs about the feelings, understanding,
and mind states of our animal friends.”
The zoologist Donald Griffin, who has performed research in animal behavior at Harvard, is skeptical about interspecies communication of
the kind Kinkade discusses, but agrees that animals are more than bundles of instincts and reflexes reacting to stimuli. In an interview with the
New York Times,11 he said: “Animal thoughts and emotions are not just a sentimental pet lover’s delusion.” His expert opinion reflects a
change in academic thinking inspired by two broad cultural trends: the environmental movement’s emphasis on the importance of coexisting
with rather than exploiting the natural world and the medical profession’s gradual recognition of alternative therapies.
“The climate is really changing,” says Rupert Sheldrake, a British biologist who has developed the theory of morphic resonance and has
written several books on animal and plant development and behavior. “In the last ten years, there is a growing recognition in the academic
world that animals could be thought of as having minds and emotions. Scientists are beginning to take a look at what pet owners already
know.”12
Rupert Sheldrake investigates the unexplained abilities of animals who seem to sense when their human companions are about to board an
airplane or who know in advance when they are approaching home unexpectedly, when a favorite person is on the other end of the telephone,
or when someone is about to have an epileptic seizure. Sheldrake has collected more than three thousand case studies attesting to what at
first glance appear to be strange coincidences. He has recorded nearly two hundred instances of dogs, cats, horses, and even parrots
predicting earthquakes. Sheldrake conducted an informal survey in England and the United States in which he asked one thousand pet owners
whether they believed their pets could communicate telepathically. Forty-eight percent of dog owners and 33 percent of cat owners answered
yes. More interesting still, he collected fifteen hundred anecdotes about “seemingly telepathic” messages that pets received successfully from
their owners but only 73 cases that flowed the other way. “People seem to be much less sensitive than their animals,” Sheldrake concluded. A
lot of questions can be raised in response to such claims, but one of the most pertinent is: What part of the brain can provide us and our pets
with this kind of sensitivity?
THE MATRIX RELOADED
In chapter 7, we saw that information processing within the central nervous system occurs through hierarchically organized and interconnected
networks. This hierarchy of networks does not end at the neuroaxonal level, but also incorporates subcellular, cytoskeletal structures. When the
size of the hierarchical components reaches the nanometer range and the number of elements exceeds that of the neuroaxonal system, an
interface emerges enabling a transition between neurochemical and quantum physical events. Signal nonlocality, accessed by means of
quantum entanglement, is an essential feature of the quantum physical domain. We have discussed that this interface may imply that some
manifestations of altered states of consciousness or unconscious\conscious shifts have quantum origin with significant epistemological
implications.
Also in chapter 7, a second foundation of knowledge was called direct–intuitive–nonlocal information processing, which utilizes signal
nonlocality based on quantum holography within the subcellular network of the brain (and the whole body). This was suggested as a typical
functional mode for altered states of consciousness (ASCs) of the integrative type and was contrasted with classical cognition, which was
denoted as a perceptual–cognitive–symbolic method of acquiring knowledge and was regarded as the main characteristic of the ordinary state
of consciousness. The perceptual–cognitive–symbolic form of information processing is capable of modeling via symbolism and is more
culture-bound due to its psycholinguistic features. The direct–intuitive–nonlocal mode, however, lacks symbolic mediation. Therefore, it has
more cross-cultural similarity and is practically ineffable regarding classical cognition, though culture specific translation may occur in this
mode. Unavoidably, culture-specific, symbolic processes may shape the perceptual–cognitive–symbolic mode, and its framework is limited to
a species, generally. In the remainder of this chapter, we will see how the direct–intuitive–nonlocal method of accessing knowledge can cross
over interspecies distances, because its interface or the type of information processing*10 is shared not only by different species, but also by
every living creature.
THE MATRIX REVOLUTION
Networks are all the way up and networks are all the way down—as above, so below: biological organisms are built from a hierarchical
organization of complex, nonmonotonous networks. A network is considered nonmonotonous if it is made of numerous nonidentical elements
connected by diverse interactions. These features define the basis of complexity, and make any kind of nonmonotonous network capable of
information processing. They also possess some sort of conscious-ness—that is, responsiveness, awareness to, and storing of imprints of
changes in the ambient environment. A fishnet is monotonous, and regardless of the number of its building blocks, it is dumb. Yet this is
probably not true in the case of the web of root fibers, microtubules, and other sub-or supracellular networks, which can contain a high degree
of complexity. Also, complex network systems are not restricted to biological organisms. The network hierarchy goes beyond biological
boundaries and can be found in nature on both the micro-(e.g., spinor networks) and the macroscale (e.g., Earth’s electromagnetic flux tubes),
potentially serving as storage for information at each level.
Chapter 7 introduced the Penrose-Hameroff model, which postulates the use of the subneural net of microtubules for quantum computation in
biological systems. At the same time, the previous chapter emphasized that there remain shortcomings in this intriguing model: despite their
impressive intricacy, microtubules may be too coarse to be used in an explanation for the emergence of consciousness—of who we really are.
In fact, microtubules do not form the finest texture of subcellular organization. Even smaller and more-subtle structures branch and interconnect
in networks comprising an “infoplasm,” the basic substance of living material.13 The most delicate cytoskeletal system is the microtrabecular
lattice, a web of microfilaments (biofibers) that are seven to nine nanometers in diameter. This represents the current micro frontier, the “ground
floor” of living-material organization. If the periodic lattice of microtubules forms a network within a network of neurons, then the microfilamental
matrix is a network embedded in the network of microtubules (see figure 8.1)!
Several arguments can be raised against the Penrose-Hameroff model and against many other models of biological quantum computation
based on classical quantum mechanics. First of all, they are merely theoretical, without any experimental support. Especially pointed is the
critique of Tegmark 14 and others that the warm temperature of the brain should prevent the material organization necessary for quantum
computation. As part of the phenomenon called heat decoherence, Brownian movement of particles in the infoplasm disturbs the elements that
process the quantum bits (qubits). Due to the lack of effective error correction, it eventually may ruin the computation.
In response to Tegmark’s criticisms, here is a parallel drawn for example and also an alternative model discussed under the heading
Topological Quantum Computation.
1. The electric ray fish has no coil, meaning that technological solutions can be entirely different in biological systems.
2. The brain may develop and maintain a Bose-Einstein condensate, some sort of superconductive state without the seemingly requisite
ultracool medium. Or it may incorporate a resilient substrate with highly efficient error correction. Topological quantum computation
represents a possible solution for the latter problem.
TOPOLOGICAL QUANTUM COMPUTATION
Essentially, quantum computational models are based on a theoretical ability to manufacture, manipulate, and measure quantum states, to
process qubits of information encoded in the state of particles, which may be trapped ions, atoms held inside silicon chips, or uniformly
oriented molecules organized within the microtubules. Both chips and microtubules face one big problem: They must be carefully shielded to
protect them from decoherence.
This is where quantum weaving in the microfilamental lattice enters the equation, and potentially eliminates altogether this problem of heat
decoherence. Vaughan Jones’s mathematical work15 has proved that knots can store information. His ideas were developed further by
physicists Edward Witten16 and Alexei Kitaev,17 both of whom pointed out that a braided system of quantum particles can perform quantum
computation. Using quantum particles with just the right properties, braiding can efficiently carry out any quantum computation in superfast time.
Further, while traditional qubits are prone to decoherence, “braiding is robust: just as a passing gust of wind may ruffle your shoelaces but won’t
untie them, data stored on a quantum braid can survive all kinds of disturbance.18
The basic flaw of current theories of quantum computation in biological systems is that they are based on attempts to use concepts of
conventional quantum theory. The classical quantum measurement approach postulating the “collapse of the wave function” is unsatisfactory for
consciousness studies.19 The demonstrated quantum weaving model represents a newer physical approach known as topological
geometrodynamics, which provides a greater perspective.20 We should not be reductionistic with regard to considering length scales: Matti
Pitkanen believes that the universe is “emulating” itself in all length and time scales. Therefore, it is possible that quantum computations may be
carried out in biologically relevant length scales. Pitkanen goes on:
A topological geometrodynamics-based model involves many elements which represent new physics very essential for topological
quantum computation. One of the most fascinating possibilities is: time loops are in principle possible by signaling to a geometric past so
that arbitrarily long computations could be made instantaneously by iteration in which a new run is initiated in the past. If these loops are
really possible, they would mean a complete revolution. Problems which would require a computation of eternity would become solvable.
MIND KINKS, TOPOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS, AND PLANT INTELLIGENCE
Current efforts of artificial intelligence (AI) are aimed toward problem solving, and they usually attempt to simulate cognition as it is processed
in the neuroaxonal system of the human brain. This method of developing AI is modeled after the perceptual–cognitive– symbolic mode of
gaining knowledge. While machines may exhibit this perceptual–cognitive–symbolic form of intelligence, animals also possess the direct–
intuitive–nonlocal form, because they share with humans the subneural mechanisms of quantum holography. But what about plants? Do they
harbor a direct–intuitive–nonlocal mind, and only that one?
This controversial question arose after my personal discussion with Dennis McKenna at the home of Luis Eduardo Luna in Wasiwaska,
Florianópolis, Brazil. Dennis told of a report that described a giant mushroom, Armillaria ostoyae, commonly known as a honey mushroom and
sometimes called shoestring rot and found in the Pacific Northwest (specifically, in Malheur National Forest, Oregon). It is one of the biggest
single organisms (or a colony having the same DNA) on Earth—an immense network of interwoven fungal fibers (mycelia) spanning twenty-two
hundred acres three feet underground and containing one square mile in volume. The visible golden mushrooms aboveground are only the
reproducing organs, and therefore represent only the tip of the iceberg. Recently, an even larger Armillaria ostoyae covering more than eleven
thousand acres was found in Washington state. Genetic tests indicate that fungi are more closely related to animals and human beings than to
other plants. Fungal mycelial fibers may develop a network of loops in much bigger numbers than the microfilamental matrix of the human brain.
As the Inca discovered and used in their quipu recordings, information can be encoded in knots and threads. A quipu consists of plied,
colored threads of cords that store data in knots. It is a coded system that has yet to be deciphered. Computation based on weaving is called
topological,21 and a vast loop network may enable an organism or superorganism to resonate with the world, resulting in a phenomenon we
could describe as topological consciousness. Paul Stamets writes, “The mycelium is an exposed sentient membrane, aware and responsive
to changes in its environment. . . . Interlacing mycelial membranes form, I believe, a complex neuron-like web that acts as a fungal collective
consciousness.”22
Besides Stamets, the McKenna brothers (Dennis and Terence) were among the first outspoken proponents of mushroom and plant
consciousness—which we humans are able to tap in to in altered states of consciousness. Although plants cannot speak because they lack a
neuroaxonal system, they can be in deeper contact with the world than we suppose, and are able to communicate with us.23 When we use our
topological (direct–intuitive–nonlocal) consciousness that’s hidden in the fabric of the subcellular matrix, and we liberate it from the suppression
of the overdominant perceptual–cognitive–symbolic cognition of ordinary consciousness through the use of particular rituals, we can access the
wisdom of the plant kingdom.
The size of topological consciousness does not necessarily reach its peak at the giant-mushroom level. Threads—loops on every scale—
can form a topology emerging in consciousness. Pando (or the Trembling Giant) is a clonal colony of a single male aspen tree (Populus
tremuloides) located in the state of Utah, determined to be part of a single living organism as revealed by identical genetic markers and the
existence of one massive underground root system. The plant is estimated to weigh six thousand tons, making it the heaviest known organism
in existence. The root system of Pando, at eighty thousand years old, is thought to be one of the oldest known living beings in existence. The
giant marine plant Posidonia oceanica has been discovered in the Mediterranean Sea (near the Spanish Balearic Islands) and has a length of
several miles and an estimated age of about one hundred thousand years. We can only imagine the kind of topological wisdom held by a plant
such as Pando or this marine organism. What’s more, the majority of plants on Earth with interconnected root fibers may represent a form of
topological superconsciousness, the Gaian mind. A huge network of plants—like the Internet—shares information on changes in the
environment, and possesses a form of intelligence that only a few of us can recognize.
In an alternative model based on his theory of topological geometrodynamics, Pitkanen24 proposes that the flux tubes of Earth’s magnetic
field and the magnetic field of all living systems are a network of superconductors. These flux tubes might be a kind of nervous system not only
of the entire biosphere, but also of the whole Blue Planet, and they might make it possible to access an enormous amount of information from
Earth’s past, present, and