I’m not sure if it is the case for all your readers, but for me, the link to the WSJ article doesn’t work. The other links worked, so I don’t think it is an issue on my side. Just thought you might want to know in case you want to fix the link.
What a mysterious phenomenon the visitations attending sleep paralysis are! And how inadequate the reductionist neurological accounts. I agree that only the path of deepening self-knowledge can offer insight and strength to accept the frightful apparitions as facets of the deepest Self.
Similarly, the human beings who first witnessed a sunset must have felt cosmic terror, as at a nuclear apocalypse, seeing the light of the world absorbed into mortal darkness. Then they learned to integrate the phenomenon into the fabric and rhythm of their existence to the point where it inspired a wealth of myths, poetry, music and all arts.
What you say calls attention to an important point, Gabriele: that all experience, not just exotic ones like SP, evokes and points back to the same ultimate mystery. What it hinges on is the sense of separation, of subject and object. So, as you say, the sight of a sunset and the altered state of consciousness that is sleep paralysis with hypnagogia can each generate individual wonder/terror and collective cosmic myth and art when fully absorbed. So can any and all other experiences, but the ones that seem most intense and forceful, whether pleasantly or unpleasantly, tend to cut through our trance of conventionality more effectively. As Andre argued in MY DINNER WITH ANDRE, though you don't have to take a literal trip to Mount Everest to wake up from the sleep of the everyday, we're all so entranced these days that some kind of dramatic, shake-you-awake event, a *metaphorical* trip to Everest, is indeed needed for most of us. Wally demurs and says he thinks there's just as much reality in the cigar store next to the restaurant where he and Andre are sharing a meal, so that if you could become fully aware of it, "it would just blow your brains out." Andre agrees in principle but says most of us just can't see the cigar store anymore, so more dramatic measures are needed.
I'm also reminded for some reason of a wonderful passage in Robert Anton Wilson's THE WIDOW'S SON that I've never seen anybody quote, but that has stayed with me ever since I first read it in college and felt deeply moved as I grokked its point:
"One of the first gods—perhaps the very first, and certainly the greatest—was she who *created* beauty in the world. It is her image that is still worshipped as the Great Mother in the eastern lands, and the underground witch cults in rural parts of Europe. I rather imagine she was suckling her newborn at the time she became a god and a creator; this is how the Egyptians showed Isis, their image of her, and it is the favorite Christian icon of Mary, the same archetype of the same long memory. She was, of course, one of the cave people Dr. Vico has told us pre-existed civilization. As she suckled, she went deep, deep into that voluptuous revery which even we men may know when we make love to women, and then she *saw* for the first time. A single rose, a gorgeous sunset, the intricate design of what had previously been an 'ugly' insect—I cannot guess what she saw, but she *saw*. And in excitement and rapture, she cried out to her mate (whatever form of 'marriage' they had in those days) 'Oh look at this, look!' and he looked and he *saw*. And beauty was created in a world that had been flat and dead and meaningless until that moment."
Sleep paralysis raises questions about why we dream at all. It's strange to reflect that dreams can be so vivid that the brain needs a system of muscle paralysis to prevent sleepwalking. This fits into ideas of perception being a type of controlled hallucination (such as presented by Anil Seth in a TED talk, and his book "Being You"). I think this is more than a metaphor, that hallucination is our mode of perception - albeit constrained by sensory input while we are awake.
While the article links the hallucinations of sleep paralysis to psychedelics, the visual element is closer to the effects of deliriants and their 'shadow people.' Reports of deliriant experiences have a very distinct "dreaming while awake" element to the hallucinations, where the real world can be replaced by other places and people in a way which appears convincing until someone fades out of existence in the middle of an imaginary conversation.
The sense of contact with other spheres in sleep paralysis has echoes of paranormal and 'alien abduction' experiences, which in turn resemble psychedelic experiences in certain ways. For example in a case mentioned by Jacques Vallee, a man speaks of being "transfixed" and "completely powerless" before an "intelligence of a form beyond my comprehension." Re-reading the quote, it turns out to be from a 'psychic experimenter' who was in bed at the time, but it could equally be a description of a mushroom trip.
In the comments you mention our experience hinging on the sense of separation of subject and object. If perception is a type of hallucination, it moves the boundary of what we consider internal and external; 'out there' becomes 'in here'. And the quote above of "an intelligence of a form beyond my comprehension" also raises questions of self vs other and daimonic reality. Rather than ascending into a UFO, a descent into your own psyche can be an occasion for coming into contact with unknown intelligences, with the results outlined in your final paragraph.
These are interesting points, all. "I think this is more than a metaphor, that hallucination is our mode of perception - albeit constrained by sensory input while we are awake." I'm liking this very much.
On the matter of SP and alien abduction experiences, yes, certainly. That's a long-established connection that I think has been fruitful to keep track of. Certainly Whitley Strieber, the most famous abductee, said SP was directly involved or associated with his own experiences.
It sounds like you and I are definitely thinking and intuiting along the same lines when it comes to the blurring of the subjective/objective boundary that this all points to. For me, this once again plunges me into a consideration of how this can all be meaningfully related -- related in thought and words, I mean, as an effort to verbally articulate it -- to the same blurring or actual wholesale collapse that occurs in the case of mystical and nondual spiritual awakening. The appearance of the world, the ten thousand things, remains the same, but the other side of that coin is now seen, and it shows a unity in multiplicity that punctures the membrane.
I’m not sure if it is the case for all your readers, but for me, the link to the WSJ article doesn’t work. The other links worked, so I don’t think it is an issue on my side. Just thought you might want to know in case you want to fix the link.
Thank you for the heads up, Georgia! I’ve fixed it now. I also added a note that the WSJ article is behind a paywall.
Matt, I saw that piece in the Wall Street Journal and had the same problems, frustrations. Glad you took this on.
Glad my hot take—or rather, my hot take wedded to a very long-developing cool take—landed right, David.
What a mysterious phenomenon the visitations attending sleep paralysis are! And how inadequate the reductionist neurological accounts. I agree that only the path of deepening self-knowledge can offer insight and strength to accept the frightful apparitions as facets of the deepest Self.
Similarly, the human beings who first witnessed a sunset must have felt cosmic terror, as at a nuclear apocalypse, seeing the light of the world absorbed into mortal darkness. Then they learned to integrate the phenomenon into the fabric and rhythm of their existence to the point where it inspired a wealth of myths, poetry, music and all arts.
What you say calls attention to an important point, Gabriele: that all experience, not just exotic ones like SP, evokes and points back to the same ultimate mystery. What it hinges on is the sense of separation, of subject and object. So, as you say, the sight of a sunset and the altered state of consciousness that is sleep paralysis with hypnagogia can each generate individual wonder/terror and collective cosmic myth and art when fully absorbed. So can any and all other experiences, but the ones that seem most intense and forceful, whether pleasantly or unpleasantly, tend to cut through our trance of conventionality more effectively. As Andre argued in MY DINNER WITH ANDRE, though you don't have to take a literal trip to Mount Everest to wake up from the sleep of the everyday, we're all so entranced these days that some kind of dramatic, shake-you-awake event, a *metaphorical* trip to Everest, is indeed needed for most of us. Wally demurs and says he thinks there's just as much reality in the cigar store next to the restaurant where he and Andre are sharing a meal, so that if you could become fully aware of it, "it would just blow your brains out." Andre agrees in principle but says most of us just can't see the cigar store anymore, so more dramatic measures are needed.
I'm also reminded for some reason of a wonderful passage in Robert Anton Wilson's THE WIDOW'S SON that I've never seen anybody quote, but that has stayed with me ever since I first read it in college and felt deeply moved as I grokked its point:
"One of the first gods—perhaps the very first, and certainly the greatest—was she who *created* beauty in the world. It is her image that is still worshipped as the Great Mother in the eastern lands, and the underground witch cults in rural parts of Europe. I rather imagine she was suckling her newborn at the time she became a god and a creator; this is how the Egyptians showed Isis, their image of her, and it is the favorite Christian icon of Mary, the same archetype of the same long memory. She was, of course, one of the cave people Dr. Vico has told us pre-existed civilization. As she suckled, she went deep, deep into that voluptuous revery which even we men may know when we make love to women, and then she *saw* for the first time. A single rose, a gorgeous sunset, the intricate design of what had previously been an 'ugly' insect—I cannot guess what she saw, but she *saw*. And in excitement and rapture, she cried out to her mate (whatever form of 'marriage' they had in those days) 'Oh look at this, look!' and he looked and he *saw*. And beauty was created in a world that had been flat and dead and meaningless until that moment."
Sleep paralysis raises questions about why we dream at all. It's strange to reflect that dreams can be so vivid that the brain needs a system of muscle paralysis to prevent sleepwalking. This fits into ideas of perception being a type of controlled hallucination (such as presented by Anil Seth in a TED talk, and his book "Being You"). I think this is more than a metaphor, that hallucination is our mode of perception - albeit constrained by sensory input while we are awake.
While the article links the hallucinations of sleep paralysis to psychedelics, the visual element is closer to the effects of deliriants and their 'shadow people.' Reports of deliriant experiences have a very distinct "dreaming while awake" element to the hallucinations, where the real world can be replaced by other places and people in a way which appears convincing until someone fades out of existence in the middle of an imaginary conversation.
The sense of contact with other spheres in sleep paralysis has echoes of paranormal and 'alien abduction' experiences, which in turn resemble psychedelic experiences in certain ways. For example in a case mentioned by Jacques Vallee, a man speaks of being "transfixed" and "completely powerless" before an "intelligence of a form beyond my comprehension." Re-reading the quote, it turns out to be from a 'psychic experimenter' who was in bed at the time, but it could equally be a description of a mushroom trip.
In the comments you mention our experience hinging on the sense of separation of subject and object. If perception is a type of hallucination, it moves the boundary of what we consider internal and external; 'out there' becomes 'in here'. And the quote above of "an intelligence of a form beyond my comprehension" also raises questions of self vs other and daimonic reality. Rather than ascending into a UFO, a descent into your own psyche can be an occasion for coming into contact with unknown intelligences, with the results outlined in your final paragraph.
These are interesting points, all. "I think this is more than a metaphor, that hallucination is our mode of perception - albeit constrained by sensory input while we are awake." I'm liking this very much.
On the matter of SP and alien abduction experiences, yes, certainly. That's a long-established connection that I think has been fruitful to keep track of. Certainly Whitley Strieber, the most famous abductee, said SP was directly involved or associated with his own experiences.
It sounds like you and I are definitely thinking and intuiting along the same lines when it comes to the blurring of the subjective/objective boundary that this all points to. For me, this once again plunges me into a consideration of how this can all be meaningfully related -- related in thought and words, I mean, as an effort to verbally articulate it -- to the same blurring or actual wholesale collapse that occurs in the case of mystical and nondual spiritual awakening. The appearance of the world, the ten thousand things, remains the same, but the other side of that coin is now seen, and it shows a unity in multiplicity that punctures the membrane.