“True sanity entails in one way or another the dissolution of the normal ego, that false self competently adjusted to our alienated social reality: the emergence of the ‘inner’ archetypal mediators of divine power, and through this death a rebirth, and the eventual re-establishment of a new kind of ego functioning, the ego now being the servant of the Divine, no longer its betrayer (1).”
In sharp contrast to Western psychiatry, R.D. Laing’s visionary perspective reflects Sri Aurobindo’s mapping of the journey from ego to soul. Pioneers of an evolving consciousness, they both recognize that spiritual experience is intrinsic to our psyche and can be accelerated through spiritual practice, psychotherapy or even through psychosis. Laing, whose psychiatric work focused on schizophrenia, identified the plight of humanity with its preoccupation with control of the external world, thus eclipsing the inner world — “...the realities of imagination, dreams, fantasies, trances, the realities of contemplative and meditative states..(2).”
When the ego, the instrument for surviving in the external world, is fractured or destroyed, the person is suddenly exposed to the inner world. Modern psychiatry categorizes the experiences of this inner world as pathological, thus fatally ignoring the transcendental experience of both the mystic and the madman. Laing envisions the task of the psychiatrist/therapist
“...to educt the person from this world [external] and induct him to the other [inner]. To guide him in it, and to lead him back again (3).”
Like Ken Wilbur, he challenges the traditional role of the therapist, envisioning a guide bearing resemblance to a shaman — one who possesses experiential knowledge of the inner terrain and the power to traverse it.
Although Laing’s focus is on ‘psychotic’ episodes, a transit may also occur through
spiritual practice or psychotherapy.
“When a person goes mad, a profound transposition of his position in relation to all domains of being occurs. His center of experi
ence moves from ego to Self (4).”
This movement, however, is a process in which ego and Self, natural and super natural, are often muddled. Whether we label the event ‘psychosis’, ‘spiritual practice’ or ‘psychotherapy’, crisis is present—death and rebirth are the common features. In the passage from the outer personality to the inner being, Sri Aurobindo describes an intermediate zone where the traveler is confused by conflicting claims of the inner and outer worlds. Experiences in this realm of psyche bear a strong resemblance to ‘psychosis’,
“…this intermediate zone is a region of half-truths — .... The sadhak thinks that he is no longer in the old small consciousness at all, because he feels in contact with something larger or more powerful, and yet the old consciousness is still there, not really abolished. He feels the control or influence of some Power, Being or Force greater than himself, aspires to be its instrument and thinks he has got rid of ego; but this delusion of egolessness often covers an exaggerated ego (5).”
Both the person believing that he is Jesus Christ and the spiritual aspirant may wander for a long time in this treacherous zone of consciousness; some never emerge.
The triggers for initiation into this passage are numerous. Entry into inner worlds may even occur spontaneously. Our main focus in this chapter is on the use of skillful means to bridge psychotherapy and spiritual practice.
Spontaneous openings
Bob, a jazz musician in his mid-sixties, consulted me about a singular change in his consciousness. Recently retired from a teaching career, he looked forward to playing music and tennis when, during a period of intense piano practice, the change occurred. He began to suffer physical symptoms of extreme pressure and heat in his head, symptoms relieved only by staring into space and focusing his eyes towards the crown of his head. Eventually, he identified with a single point in a vast energy field; a point of profound peace and awareness. His personality had become inconsequential.
Eventually, however, he became terrified: would he be able to return from that vast energy field? This fear, a fear of losing his mind, existed in tandem with his difficulty in re-establishing a relationship with the ordinary world. A seasoned musician, he was losing his ability to perform. Lapses also occurred on the tennis-court in the midst of returning a ball. Beckoned by the ‘other consciousness’, his capacity for intimate relationship became severely limited, presenting a major challenge to his life-partner. Was there an ‘organic’ explan-ation for this bizarre phenomenon? Should he take medication?
My approach to working with Bob was process-oriented. I consistently supported each experience, whether based on fear or an emerging ‘other consciousness’. His process did not demand the normal psycho-therapeutic effort to uncover and amplify feelings, images, bodily symptoms. It demanded coping strategies, as well as creative ways to ground this new and overwhelming energy.
Bob underwent standard neurological tests, receiving a clean bill of physical health. I did not recognize any mental or emotional pathology. What I did recognize were very strong signals of kundalini energy — extreme heat, pressure in the head, inner sounds of cicadas, eyes rolling upward and converging on a point above the crown center (single-sight). Above all, Bob’s entry into the ‘other consciousness’ endowed him with both a greater awareness and a deeper sense of peace: he was able to witness in minute detail the various parts of his personality — though illuminating, this process also evoked emotional pain and depression.
As I followed his process, I introduced Bob to the writings of Sri Aurobindo and Ken Wilbur. Receiving immense clarity from these ‘giants’, he has begun to explore his spirituality. Resonance with the experiences of others has slowly softened negative judgement of his own experience: he no longer thinks of it as an aberration.
Bob’s greatest challenge was to build a bridge between two worlds of radically different consciousnesses. He discovered that in avoiding his inner world, he inflicted upon himself both physical and psychological pain. Gradually, regularly, he began to ‘sit and stare’ — his own creative form of meditation. Physical work, tennis and bodywork helped him to stay in his body and relate to the ordinary world.
Bob’s journey is a work in progress. For six years, he has experienced a steadily increasing consciousness. This has significantly accelerated his personal psychological work, while simultaneously affording him direct access to his spiritual reality. His experience is a testimony to the evolutionary pressure of consciousness — a consciousness which transcends all personal designs and efforts.
The spiritual door
The journey inward is unique to each traveler. For the spiritual practitioner, it may begin by following the breath, or by visualization in order to focus and eventually quiet the mind. Initially, one might experience a state of harmony and peace. However, this state is only the beginning of a long and sometimes perilous passage. Jack Kornfield, a teacher of Buddhist meditation, discriminates between two levels of spiritual practice:
“One begins with virtue and concentration and calming and a softening of the body and an opening of the heart.... But then when we are ready to go deeper, it means to open the whole of the inner world. What this requires of us is a willingness to face pleasure and pain equally, to open, to touch... ‘the whole catastrophe’ and to look directly into the light and the shadow of the heart and mind (6).”
To open the whole of the inner world is reminiscent of Mother’s charge that “you must take apart the entire machinery of your being.” During this process it is not uncommon for even seasoned practitioners to find themselves in crisis or spiritual emergency.
A monk who had completed many meditation retreats entered into therapy with me. While meditating, he encountered a black depression. He began using alcohol as an escape and was eventually asked to leave the monastery. Treatment involved psychotherapy in order to deal with unresolved family issues, addiction and depression. Neither the monastery nor his spiritual practice had been able to remove these emotional and psychological obstacles.
While spiritual and psychotherapeutic processes are both ‘inner practices’, there are often mistaken attitudes about therapy in spiritual communities. The monk who was forced to leave his monastery felt he had failed in his spiritual practice. Since he believed the spiritual dimension was higher than the psychological, spiritual experience should have been sufficient to transform all the other levels of his being.
Kornfield reminds us that, “In this process there are no higher or lower levels, no areas that are more sacred than any other. There is simply the encountering of whatever patterns of contraction, fear and identification cause our suffering and discovering an awakening and freedom from them (7).”
As in the case of the monk, the length and intensity of our spiritual practice does not necessarily free us of personal and developmental obstacles to liberation. Trauma can generate such fear and dread that the practitioner may unconsciously use spiritual practice to avoid facing the truth. When the trauma is not addressed, we find ourselves arrested in our spiritual growth.
Fortunately, there are today a growing number of therapists possessing integral training who are as adept in working with a spiritual as well as a traumatic process. In this awesome work of exploring our inner world, of examining the entire machinery of our being, we need the combined wisdom and power of psychology and spirituality.
The psychotherapeutic door
