Researchers explain why withdrawal from our usual environments—due to social distancing—has left dreamers with a dearth of “inspiration.”

Deirdre Barrett, a professor of psychology at Harvard University who studies dreams, made this photo illustration of a recent COVID-19 dream she had.

BY REBECCA RENNER

PUBLISHED APRIL 15, 2020 (nationalgeographic.com)

Ronald Reagan pulled up to the curb in a sleek black town car, rolled down his tinted window, and beckoned for Lance Weller, author of the novel Wilderness, to join him. The long-dead president escorted Weller to a comic book shop stocked with every title Weller had ever wanted, but before he could make a purchase, Reagan swiped his wallet and skipped out the door.

Of course, Weller was dreaming. He is one of many people around the world—including more than 600 featured in just one study—who say they are experiencing a new phenomenon: coronavirus pandemic dreams.

Science has long suggested that dream content and emotions are connected to wellbeing while we’re awake. Bizarre dreams laden with symbolism allow some dreamers to overcome intense memories or everyday psychological stressors within the safety of their subconscious. Nightmares, on the other hand, can be warning signs of anxieties that we might not otherwise perceive in our waking lives.

With hundreds of millions of people sheltering at home during the coronavirus pandemic, some dream experts believe that withdrawal from our usual environments and daily stimuli has left dreamers with a dearth of “inspiration,” forcing our subconscious minds to draw more heavily on themes from our past. In Weller’s case, his long-time obsession with comics came together with his constant scrolling through political posts on Twitter to concoct a surreal scene that he interpreted as a commentary on the world’s economic anxieties.

The virus is invisible, and I think that’s why it’s transformed into so many different things.

DEIRDRE BARRETT, HARVARD UNIVERSITY

At least five research teams at institutions across multiple countries are collecting examples such as Weller’s, and one of their findings so far is that pandemic dreams are being colored by stress, isolation, and changes in sleep patterns—a swirl of negative emotions that set them apart from typical dreaming.

Epicenter tripping

During our dream states, stress sends the brain on a trip. The neurobiological signals and reactions that produce dreams are similar to those triggered by psychedelic drugs, according to McNamara. Psychedelics activate nerve receptors called serotonin 5-HT2A, which then turn off a part of the brain called the dorsal prefrontal cortex. The result is known as “emotional disinhibition,” a state in which emotions flood the consciousness, especially during the rapid eye movement (REM) stage of sleep, when we typically dream.

Though these processes happen nightly, most people don’t typically remember their dreams. Living through the coronavirus pandemic might be changing that due to heightened isolation and stress, influencing the content of dreams and allowing some dreamers to remember more of them. For one, anxiety and lack of activity decrease sleep quality. Frequent awakenings, also called parasomnias, are associated with increased dream recall. Latent emotions and memories from the previous day can also influence the content of dreams and one’s emotional response within the dream itself.

People closer to the pandemic threat—health-care workers, those living in epicenters, and those with affected family members—are more likely to experience outbreak-influenced dreams.

According to an ongoing study the Lyon Neuroscience Research Center in France initiated in March, the coronavirus pandemic has caused a 35 percent increase in dream recall among participants, with respondents reporting 15 percent more negative dreams than usual. A different study promoted by Associazione Italiana di Medicina del Sonno (the Italian Association of Sleep Medicine) is analyzing the dreams of Italians confined during the outbreak. Many of the subjects are experiencing nightmares and parasomnias in line with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

“Not surprisingly, some years ago when we studied survivors of the 2009 L’Aquila earthquake, we found that sleep disorders and also nightmares strictly depended on the proximity to the epicenter,” says Luigi De Gennaro, a professor of physiological psychology at the University of Rome who is working on the Italian coronavirus study. “In other words, the seismic map mostly overlapped that of sleep disturbances.”

Results from De Gennaro’s ongoing research and other work such as the Lyon study suggest that people closer to the pandemic threat—health-care workers, those living in epicenters, and those with affected family members—are more likely to experience outbreak-influenced dreams.

Overcoming the nightmares

Multiple studies have shown that our waking activities create a slide reel of memories that influence the content of our dreams. Emotions carried over from the day can influence what we dream about and how we feel about it within the dream itself. Reducing or restricting sources of everyday memories—by being stuck alone in quarantine—may limit the content of dreams or cause the subconscious to reach for deeper memories.

It may seem obvious, but Finnish researchers have scientifically backed up the notion that peace of mind leads to a “positive dream affect,” wherein dreamers feel good about what is happening in their dreams. Anxiety, by contrast, is related to “negative dream affect,” the data show, which results in dreams that are frightening or otherwise upsetting.

Deirdre Barrett, assistant professor of psychology at Harvard University and author of The Committee of Sleep, has collected and analyzed dreams from the survivors of traumatic events, including the September 11 World Trade Center Attacks. Barrett has found that dreams in which people process traumas tend to follow two patterns: They either directly reference or re-enact a version of the traumatic event, or the dreams are fantastical, with symbolic elements standing in for the trauma.

For those seeking to wrest some control over bad dreams, focusing on the “bizarre” may help.

In Barrett’s latest sample of coronavirus dreams, which she began collecting in March with this survey, some participants reported dreaming they caught the virus or were dying of it. In another set of dreams Barrett collected, participants replaced fear of the virus with a metaphoric element, such as bugs, zombies, natural disasters, shadowy figures, monsters, or mass shooters.

“Except for the [dreams of] health-care workers, we don’t see vivid visual imagery of people struggling to breathe on the ventilator,” Barrett says. “The virus is invisible, and I think that’s why it’s transformed into so many different things.”

For all their variety, the one thing many pandemic dreams have in common is how weird they seem to participants in the studies. “It may be one of the mechanisms used by the sleeping brain to induce emotional regulation,” says Perrine Ruby, a researcher at the Lyon Neuroscience Research Center.

For those experiencing coronavirus nightmares, there is growing evidence that so-called “dream mastery techniques” can alleviate their suffering.

When Barrett works with patients on “scripting” their own dreams, she often asks how they want the nightmare to be different. After a patient figures out their dream’s new direction, they can write it down and rehearse it before bed. These scripts range from more mundane solutions, like fighting off attackers, to more “dreamlike” scenarios, such as shrinking the attacker down to the size of an ant.

For those seeking to wrest some control over bad dreams, focusing on the “bizarre” may help, says Ruby, the researcher from Lyon. “Changing the context—the laws of physics and so on—may change the perspective [and] propose another angle, a shift in the understanding which may help to change or play down emotion.”

No, “humble narcissism” is not an oxymoron; it’s a combination of qualities that the best leaders and companies have. Organizational psychologist Adam Grant explains why.

TED Ideas (getpocket.com)

• Adam Grant

Illustration by  Anna Salmi.

Who would you rather work for: a narcissistic leader or a humble leader?

The answer is more complicated than you think.

In a Fortune 100 company, researchers studied whether customer service employees were more productive under narcissistic or humble leaders. The least effective bosses were narcissists — their employees were more likely to spend time surfing the Internet and taking long breaks. Employees with humble bosses were a bit more productive: they fielded more customer service calls and took fewer breaks. But the best leaders weren’t humble or narcissistic.

They were humble narcissists.

How can you be narcissistic and humble at the same time? The two qualities sound like opposites, but they can go hand in hand. Narcissists believe they’re special and superior; humble leaders know they’re fallible and flawed. Humble narcissists bring the best of both worlds: they have bold visions, but they’re also willing to acknowledge their weaknesses and learn from their mistakes.

Humble narcissists have grand ambitions, but they don’t feel entitled to them. They don’t deny their weaknesses; they work to overcome them.

Humble narcissists don’t just have more productive employees — they’re rated as more effective too. It’s not just true in the US: new research also shows that humble narcissists make the best leaders in China. They’re more charismatic, and their companies are more likely to innovate.

Narcissism gives you the confidence to believe you can achieve great things. It’s hard to imagine someone other than Steve Jobs having the grandiose vision of creating Apple. And we’re all drawn to that confidence — it’s why narcissists are more likely to rise up the ranks of the corporate elite and get elected to political office. But alone, narcissism is dangerous. Studies show that tech companies with narcissistic CEOs have more fluctuating, volatile performance. Narcissists tend to be overconfident. They’re prone to dismissing criticism and falling victim to flattery. They surround themselves with yes-men and take unnecessary risks. Also, narcissistic presidents are more likely to engage in unethical behavior and get impeached (hello, Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton).

Adding humility prevents capriciousness and complacency. It helps you remember that you’re human. Humble narcissists have grand ambitions, but they don’t feel entitled to them. They don’t deny their weaknesses; they work to overcome them.

As an organizational psychologist, I study leaders and teams, and I’ve been struck that there are three kinds of humility that matter.

We’ll actually seem more credible and trustworthy — and other people will see more potential in our ideas — if we have the humility to acknowledge the limitations.

The first kind of humility is humility about your ideas. Take Rufus Griscom (TED Talk, given with Alisa Volkman: Let’s talk parenting taboos). When he founded the parenting blog Babble, he did something I’ve never seen an entrepreneur do. He said, “Here are the three reasons you should not invest in my company” — and he walked away with $3.1 million in funding that year. Two years later, he went to pitch Babble to Disney, and he included a slide in his pitch deck that read, “Here are the five reasons you should not buy Babble.” Disney acquired it for $40 million.

By speaking candidly about the downsides of his idea, Rufus made his comments about the upsides more credible. Admitting the flaws outright also made it tougher for investors to come up with their own objections. The harder they had to work to identify what was wrong with the company, the more they thought was right with the company. The conversation changed: his investors proposed solutions to the problems.

If you ever took a debate class, you were taught to identify the weaknesses in your argument and address them out loud. But we forget to do this when we pitch our ideas: we worry that they’re fragile and we don’t want to shoot ourselves in the foot. We overlook the fact that we’ll actually seem more credible and trustworthy — and other people will see more potential in our ideas — if we have the humility to acknowledge their limitations.

Of course, it seems like there are times when this won’t work, like at a job interview. But actually, people are about 30 percent more interested in hiring candidates who answer the question about their greatest weakness honestly, instead of pulling a Michael Scott: “I have weaknesses. I work too hard, and I care too much.” But you might not want to go as far as George Costanza: “I’m unemployed and I live with my parents.”

Employees who seek negative feedback get better performance reviews. They signal that want to learn, and they put themselves in a stronger position to learn.

The second kind of humility is performance humility. It means admitting that we fall short of our goals, we make mistakes, sometimes we even fall flat on our faces. Scientist Melanie Stefan has pointed out that our bios and résumés only highlight only our accomplishments — we scrub out all the stumbles and struggles along the way. In response, a Princeton professor made a failure résumé: a list of all the degree programs that rejected him, all the journals that turned him down, and all the fellowships and awards that he didn’t win. (He has since lamented that it’s gotten more attention than all his academic work combined.)

You might not want to put your failures out there that openly. But every leader can take steps toward showing performance humility. At Facebook, marketing VP Carolyn Everson decided to take her own performance review from her boss and post it in an internal Facebook group for her team — 2,400 people — to read.

Carolyn wanted to signal to them that she isn’t perfect; she’s a work in progress. She figured that if she let people know where she was working to improve, they’d give her better feedback. What she didn’t expect is that her humility would be contagious: other managers started doing it, too, recognizing that it would help to strengthen a culture of learning and development.

That can be true across the hierarchy — not just in leadership, but at the entry level. The evidence is clear: employees who seek negative feedback get better performance reviews. They signal that want to learn, and they put themselves in a stronger position to learn.

The moment you get excited about a new background, skill set or base of experience is the moment you have to diversify again, and this requires real humility.

The third kind of humility is cultural humility. In many workplaces, there’s a strong focus on hiring people who fit the culture. In Silicon Valley, startups that prize culture fit are significantly less likely to fail and significantly more likely to go public. But post-IPO, they grow at slower rates than firms that hire on skills or potential.

Hiring on culture fit reflects a lack of humility. It suggests that culture is already perfect — all we need to do is bring in people who will perpetuate it. Sociologists find that when we prize culture fit, we end up hiring people who are similar to us. That weeds out diversity of thought and background, and it’s a surefire recipe for groupthink.

Cultural humility is about recognizing that your culture always has room for growth, just like we do. When Larry Page returned as the CEO of Google, he told me that he didn’t want it to become a cultural museum. Great cultures don’t stand still; they evolve.

At the innovative design firm IDEO, instead of cultural fit, they emphasize cultural contribution, a term coined by Diego Rodriguez. The goal isn’t to find and promote people who clone the culture; it’s having the humility to bring in people who will stretch and enrich the culture by adding elements that are absent. That’s something every organization needs to revisit every year, because what’s missing from the culture changes over time.

After IDEO designed the mouse for Apple, they started working on a wider range of projects — from bringing Sesame Street into the digital age to reimagining shopping carts for grocery stores. They realized that while they had great designers, they were short on people who were skilled at going into foreign environments and making sense of them. That’s what anthropologists do for a living, so they created a new job title: anthropologist.

As they saw the contributions from people in that role, it was tempting for them to just keep hiring anthropologists. But that would be the culture fit trap again. Cultural humility forces you to ask what else is missing. In IDEO’s case, they realized it was storytellers: people gifted in translating new insights back to designers and clients. So they started hiring screenwriters and journalists. The moment you get excited about a new background, a new skill set or a new base of experience is the moment you have to diversify again, and this requires real humility.

If you work with a narcissist, don’t try to lower their confidence. Just temper it with humility.

Even if you don’t start your career as a narcissist, success can go to your head. Maintaining humility requires you to surround yourself with people who keep you honest, who tell you the truth you may not want to hear but need to hear, and who hold you accountable if you don’t listen to them.

I think that’s what happened to Steve Jobs at Apple. He had the grand ambition to build a great company. But after the launch of the Mac was a flop in 1985, he refused to listen to his critics about what needed to change, and he was forced out of his own company.

I’ve heard from his close collaborators that the Steve Jobs who came back to Apple in 1997 was more humble. Reflecting on the revitalization of the company, he once said, “I’m pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It was awful-tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it.”

That’s what a humble narcissist sounds like:. “I believe I can do extraordinary things, but I always have something to learn.”

So if you work with a narcissist, don’t try to lower their confidence. Just temper it with humility. Don’t tell them they’re not great. Instead, remind them that they’re human, they haven’t succeeded alone, and what sets the best apart is that they’re always striving to get better.

Find out more about humility by listening to Episode 3 of WorkLife with AdamGrant, a TED podcast. It explores whether humility is a hidden ingredient in success, and it features author Michael Lewis, a “no-stats all-star,” and the great coach of an unusually humble college basketball team that keeps beating the odds.

Adam Grant is an expert on how we can find motivation and meaning, and lead more generous and creative lives. As a popular TED speaker and the New York Times bestselling author of three books that have sold over a million copies, he has helped Google, the NBA, and the U.S. Army improve life at work. Grant has been Wharton’s top-rated professor for six straight years, and he has been recognized as one of Fortune’s 40 under 40 and the world’s 10 most influential management thinkers. He’s a former magician and junior Olympic springboard diver.

---

This post originally appeared on TED Ideas and was published March 14, 2018. This article is republished here with permission.

London Real BUSINESS ACCELERATOR – Open Now: https://londonreal.tv/biz/ 2020 SUMMIT TICKETS: https://londonreal.tv/summit/ NEW MASTERCLASS EACH WEEK: http://londonreal.tv/masterclass-yt LATEST EPISODE: https://londonreal.link/latest Watch our full episode with Dr. Joe Dispenza for FREE on our website here: https://londonreal.tv/create-a-wall-o… FREE FULL EPISODES: https://londonreal.tv/episodes SUBSCRIBE ON YOUTUBE: http://bit.ly/SubscribeToLondonReal

A meditator is like an editor: I’ll keep this thought. Reject that one. Save that one ’til later.

Meditation is not something we do once or twice a day. It is something we should be doing all of our waking hours. Maybe even our sleeping hours as well.

–Mike Zonta, BB editor

How To Academy One of the world’s most sought after and celebrated physicians, Dr. Gabor Maté is the leading expert on the role the mind-body connection plays in illness and health. We encourage you to visit Gabor’s Website – www.drgabormate.com Can a person literally die of loneliness? Is there a connection between the ability to express emotions and Alzheimer’s disease? Is there such a thing as a “cancer personality”? Drawing on scientific research and the author’s decades of experience as a practicing physician, Dr Gabor Maté joined How To Academy to explore the role that stress and emotions play in an array of common diseases, including arthritis, cancer, diabetes, heart disease and multiple sclerosis. In this talk, Dr. Maté shared his insights into how disease can be the body’s way of saying ‘no’ to that which the mind cannot or will not acknowledge. He weaves together scientific research, case histories, and his own insights and experience to present a broad perspective to enlighten and empower individuals to promote their own healing and that of those around them.

By Michael Stone (theshiftnetwork.com)

Spring is proof that there is beauty in new beginnings
— Matshona Dhliwayo
 

Spring is here and with it an unprecedented opportunity, perhaps beyond any that has occurred since the birth of humanity. Today more than 7.5 billion people face a common, non-human threat in the form of the coronavirus. While there is fear, death, uncertainty, even panic, there is also beauty, kindness, and a compassionate birthing of an awakening human heart. One thing is clear, nothing will ever be the same again!

It’s ironic that the most isolating thing we have ever experienced has become the most collective and connecting event in human history. While the consumption machine has slowed down a spacious settledness has touched our beautiful blue planet. The virus has been a great equalizer. No amount of money, power or possession puts one’s value or worthiness above others. Could it be any clearer that everyone and everything is connected? Physical distancing has brought about social connection.
 

We are a profoundly interconnected species, as the global economic and ecological crises reveal in vivid and frightening detail. We must embrace the simple fact that we are dependent on and accountable to one another. 
— Parker Palmer
 

As the terminal busyness of our societies has slowed down a deep stillness and spaciousness have emerged. We can almost feel the planet breathing a sigh of relief. In Venice Italy the dolphins have returned to the canals, in China people have seen the clear blue skies for the first time in years, air pollution has been reduced significantly, and global CO2 levels, the primary contributor to climate change, have been steadily dropping. In the distance, you can almost hear the songbirds singing, “hallelujah.”

The need for isolation has given pause to a tired, fearful, and fragmented world. Many of us have taken the opportunity to reflect, meditate and contemplate on where to go from here? While it appears that the fear we are experiencing is “out there”, on closer examination we can feel and experience this fear as internal, an “in here” phenomenon. This is a good thing because if I recognize the fear is within, I can meet it with a loving and compassionate heart.
 

It’s important that we meet this moment with presence: honoring our fear, 
while awakening the resilience that has been transmitted from our ancestors 
who survived crises in the past. We can choose to raise our awareness — to create mutual support and collaboration, find a new vision, 
and fully embody our potential.
— Thomas Hubl
 

When we shift our attention from a threat outside ourselves to exploring the very nature of the fear within, we realize it is only fear, because I am fearful. All of us have, in our early years, experienced threatening and fear-inducing experiences. These early events have a residual existence in our bodies and our cellular memory. For most of us, these experiences have not been fully integrated and cause us to avoid certain situations, respond with anger or denial, and hold back from taking risks in the present. Our personal fears shape our ways of meeting life and the world. In addition to our own undigested and fearful experiences, we live in a culture that holds past traumatic experiences inside the cultural field which affects and informs us, just as we contribute to it.

Another impact of early trauma and fear-inducing experiences from our youth is that it takes an enormous amount of energy to suppress these past experiences. To fully digest and integrate these fearful experiences from our past we must first stop trying to get rid of them and give them the love and attention they need and deserve. How do we do that?

We get curious when fear arises, and lean into it. Know that this is coming up for healing and it has a story to tell. Feel and locate it in your body. What age is it? Is there a story connected to it? If you see your self at an earlier age, hold that child in your arms and give him or her the love, attention, and nurturing they didn’t get when they needed it. Let go of the story and just give love to this younger you. This is the path to awakening.
 

When emotional distress arises uninvited, we let the storyline go and abide with the energy. We can feel the energy in our bodies. If we can stay with it, neither acting it out nor repressing it, it wakes us up.
— Pema Chodron
 

When we express love, compassion, and kindness towards ourselves, the need to justify or defend ourselves dissolves and fear and worry will usually dissipate. We also move closer to our common-unity with others, our vulnerability opens our heart and we can feel the fear in others. In that mutuality, we down-regulate the fear together and realize our profound interconnection with all of life. We move from an “I” to a “We” experience. We begin to act collectively and collaboratively, rather than independently from a place of separation, isolation, and competition.

I think the appropriate response to the virus is to be grateful. Not for the sickness and death that has come from it, but for stopping and connecting all of humanity, for making us realize all the things we have taken for granted, and for allowing us to step back from our tranquilized routines and question, “what kind of world do we really want to live in? From our solitude and seclusion, we can connect to and call forth a common future of kindness, compassion, and peace?” This is a kairos moment in time when a previously unimagined future is suddenly possible on a global scale. As Mahatma Gandhi said, “The future depends on what you do today.” We can make our actions consistent with this new, previously unimaginable future, and bring it into reality!

We at the Well of Light are here to serve in the awakening of a new common future based on interconnection, co-creation, compassion, respect for all life, a world of peace, harmony and what Thich Naht Hahn has called inter-being… Please let us know how we can better serve and support you in these turbulent times of unprecedented change and possibility…
 

With love and gratitude,
Michael, Meriel & the Well of Light Team
 

Isn’t there a way to break the patterns of the past and tune into our highest future possibility—and to begin to operate from that place?
— Otto Scharmer
 

Note: This article is in no way meant to avoid feeling the immense pain, suffering, disruption, and death that COVID-19 has brought to so many people, families, and communities. It’s only to present an alternative way of holding these events and embracing the healing opportunities they present!
 

Michael is offering a free daily meditation on his website. Click here for all the details.

---

Michael Stone, MSOD, ISOD, is a shamanic teacher and practitioner, and the host and producer of The Shift Network’s Shamanism Global Summit. He spent most of his vocational life as a corporate organizational development consultant, communications specialist and leadership trainer. For over three decades he has worked with Fortune 500 companies, NGOs, and social profit institutions throughout Europe and North America. For the past 10 years, Michael has focused his attention on the social profit sector while deepening his knowledge of shamanism, gender issues, and creative alternatives to current organizational structures and methods of productivity.

Michael is the host of KVMR’s award-winning show, Conversations: Possibilities and Perspectives on Local and Global Issues. It focuses on environmental restoration, spiritual fulfillment, evolutionary cosmology, community building, wellness, and social justice issues. He is also a journalist who contributes to numerous publications, including his own e-newsletter, The Well of Light. Michael has extensive training in somatic movement and is a certified trainer in Trance Dance, Soul Motion, and Gabrielle Roth’s 5Rhythms. He has brought his training in communications, gestalt, meditation, and psychology together with his spiritual and environmental conviction to develop a unique approach to bringing forth a new depth in social, cultural, and environmental awareness.

The new consciousness that is birthing can be scary, freeing, exciting, and horrifying all at the same time. Michael can help people maneuver through their past traumas and darkness in order to create a free space for infinite possibilities. Email Michael here to schedule a coaching session with him (at a quarantine discount).

Click here to visit Michael’s website, The Well of Light.

By Craig Hamilton (integralenlightenment.com)

In my last article on the most common meditation mistakes that people make, we discussed how the quest for a feeling of inner peace can block us from discovering the profound potential of meditation. In this article, we look at a similar meditation detour–the quest for “peak experiences” during meditation.

Many of us come to meditation practice because we’ve read or heard about extraordinary experiences of spiritual enlightenment that meditation can help bring about. Depending on our background, we may meditate with the expectation that it will release powerful experiences of spiritual energy, open us to overwhelming spiritual bliss and joy, or reveal an earth-shattering spiritual insight or satori. And, through our engagement with meditation and other spiritual practices, many of us have had these and other powerful experiences.

But whether we’ve only read about them in books or experienced them directly for ourselves, peak experiences can be a trap for any of us on the spiritual path–particularly if we mistake these experiences for the true goal of enlightenment.

When I speak about peak experiences, I want to acknowledge that there are hundreds – possibly thousands – of different types of spiritual experiences that meditation can bring about. We can have experiences of oneness, in which we feel like we have merged with everything in the universe and lose the ability to distinguish between our self and everything else. We can experience powerful spiritual feelings of bliss or ecstasy that overwhelms our system. We can have experiences where we feel and see the interconnectedness of everything–that everything touches and influences everything else and that nothing has an independent existence.

We can have spiritual experiences where we’re overcome with awe and reverence for the sacred. We can have spiritual experiences with another person – like the feeling of deep soul connection with another, where we feel our consciousness’ become one. We can have experiences of merging with the natural world – of union with nature. We can have experiences of divine love, in which we realize that we are loved or that our nature is love and that love is always here, ever present, always flowing.

We can have spiritual experiences of intense clarity in which everything becomes lucid and crystal and clear. We can have experiences of intense powerful energy. We can have spiritual experiences of a kind of expansiveness and openness – a boundlessness where all the boundaries dissolve and there’s just this kind of infinite space. And we can have hundreds, if not thousands, of other kinds of spiritual experiences as well.

These are all wonderful experiences to have. Peak experiences are often transformational because of what they reveal to us. They also often give us powerful motivation to pursue the spiritual path. When we have these experiences, we feel temporarily connected to a much greater reality and this can build our faith and compel us to be more wholehearted in our spiritual practice.

So, what could possibly be wrong with peak experiences? Nothing whatsoever. The problem only arises when we mistake these experiences with the goal of the spiritual path. (Which, by the way, almost everyone does). Because once we make this mistake, we can’t help but come to meditation seeking after a special experience.

When we think about the goal of the spiritual path, most of us imagine ourselves permanently elevated into some kind of higher state of consciousness. Whether it’s an ongoing experience of deep inner peace, expansive freedom, boundless inspiration or remarkable clarity of mind, most of us find it hard to conceive of spiritual awakening as anything other than a profound transformation of our consciousness.

As a result, most meditators are, consciously or unconsciously, seeking after a specific feeling state or experience that they assume is the goal of meditation. We may pursue this higher state of consciousness during the meditation, or as a result of the meditation–or both.

It’s perfectly natural to assume that reaching “the right state of consciousness” is the goal and the answer to an enlightened life. That’s because at first glance, we can see that when we’re experiencing these higher states, we tend to behave in more enlightened ways. When we feel good, we tend to have more perspective, be more caring, and navigate challenges more easily. Simply, we notice that when we feel good, it’s easier to show up as our highest self.

Observing this connection, we then assume that those feelings are the cause of our best behavior. We figure those feelings have to be in place first if we want to show up in an empowered, enlightened manner. And so most of our spiritual and personal growth effort is devoted to trying to reach — and then forever maintain — these “ideal” states.

The problem with seeking after peak experiences is that these powerful states inevitably come and go. Any emotional quality or higher state we can experience will always be fleeting. Meditative states, like any other state of consciousness, are inherently transitory, passing states. The nature of feelings is that they always change in response to what life brings our way.

Sometimes we experience anger because something frustrating or unjust happened in the world. Sometimes we experience joy because something wonderful happened. Sometimes we experience peace and contentment either because something good happened or maybe, for a brief period, nothing happened, and we were able to just relax. But all of these are just temporary, passing states of consciousness.

Experiences in meditation, no matter how profound they might seem, are fundamentally no different. Peak experiences don’t really have anything to do with the point of meditation or the point of spiritual awakening, even if they’re nice feelings and experiences to have.

Even if we go away to a retreat or workshop and experience the most exalted state we’ve ever known — and it seems like we’ll never touch down — when we get back into the complex realities of our daily life, our state of consciousness will inevitably change once again. That’s simply the nature of being human.

If you achieve a “desired” state briefly, you may be disappointed when it inevitably passes or “crashes.” Then you might conclude that the meditation didn’t work.

Even if we weren’t initially looking for a peak experience in our meditation, many people who do have a special experience during meditation get fixated on trying to recreate that experience–especially if the heightened state is particularly exciting. Inevitably, when we try to permanently “lock in” or reproduce our higher states, we’re disappointed. We may think we’ve “failed” in our aspirations to evolve. We wonder why we’re not “getting there.” It even begins to seem as if true enlightenment is a distant or perhaps impossible goal.  

Achieving a higher state of consciousness is not the point of meditation, and it’s actually counterproductive to its real purpose. Trying to achieve a higher state permanently is doomed to fail–but more importantly, it isn’t even necessary or desirable. 

Meditation is about the practice of liberation from all states–an equal relationship to everything that arises or ever could arise.

Rather than pursuing a special state of consciousness, when we meditate, we’re seeking to discover the enlightened, liberated consciousness that’s always already here no matter what experience we’re having. 

We’re learning how to bring our attention and our presence to the extraordinary consciousness that is already here reading these words right now and looking out of your eyes right now. We’re endeavoring to discover that this sacred consciousness is always here right now in the midst of everything else that’s here right now. We’re not trying to get to a special place other than right here which we discover to our amazement is always an incredibly special place when we stop trying to get somewhere else. 

The University This is an old segment from CBS ’60 Minutes’ on the swine flu (also known as H1N1) & the vaccine that was developed to stop the pandemic.

This Week’s Power Statements of the Week 
are inspired by the themes from our Spiritual Power Seminar 

I can choose to be a presence of love in response to 
the suffering of the world. 

I am already connected to a source of power bigger than myself.

Even when I feel like I have nothing left to give, I can expand and open to express the love, power, grace and creativity of life itself through me. 

I am greater than anything that life brings me.
I turn toward and embrace “what’s so” in my life with
 unconditional love and an open heart.
I know I can handle this. 

I am loving towards myself and others and respond with 
generosity and kindness in response to imperfections. 

I can be a presence of comfort for all experiencing grief and loss. 

I have the power to ease the suffering of others and respond to challenges of this moment with courage, compassion and service. 

Copyright Claire Zammt/Feminine Power 2020

This is a very powerful film. It is rooted in the experience of the loss of a grand house by a dissolved black family, and the refusal of the son of that family (Jimmy Fails) to let go of that house.

It also has an RHS moment in it! To let go of that house is to reclaim one’s larger identity.

It is also about San Francisco and the tension between the Haight Asbury of the Hippie ’60s, of which I was a true believer, and the hyper-gentrified SF of today, which became the 20-teens Mecca of Tech culture that no one can afford to live in.

Michael Kelly, H.W.

‘The Last Black Man in San Francisco’ Review: Lost in a Dream City

An indelibly beautiful story of love, family and loss in America from two childhood friends turned filmmakers.

By Manohla Dargis

• June 6, 2019 (NYTimes.com)

The Last Black Man in San Francisco
NYT Critic’s Pick
Directed by Joe Talbot

When you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.

The astonishing “Last Black Man in San Francisco” is about having little in a grab-what-you-can world. It’s the haunting, elegiac story of Jimmie Fails — playing a version of himself — a young man trying to hold onto a sense of home in San Francisco. His parents are missing in action and someone else lives in the family’s old house. Given to dreamy, faraway looks, Jimmie seems not quite there, either. But he remains tethered to the city, somehow exalted by it. And when he slaloms down its hills on his skateboard, he doesn’t descend — he soars.

The movie was directed by Joe Talbot, a longtime friend of Fails’s, and together they came up with a story grounded in life. Like Jimmie’s family, Fails’s also lost its home, and he and his father — played by Rob Morgan in a brief, piercing turn — bedded down in their car. It’s a plaintive American narrative that here becomes an expressionistic odyssey, both rapturous and melancholic. In moments it feels as if Jimmie and his faithful artistic friend, Montgomery (Jonathan Majors, a mournful heartbreaker), are dreaming the movie into existence, pouring its surrealistic jolts and hallucinatory beauty out of their heads and straight into yours.

The story drifts in, as if taking its cue from the fog. Jimmie works at a nursing home, but with no home to call his own, he flops at Mont’s grandfather’s house, a proud and cramped relic facing a polluted bay. There is an ease to the men’s intimacy, a feeling of refuge that wraps around them whether they’re talking or watching old films with Mont’s blind grandfather (Danny Glover, a monumental presence). Early on, the three watch the 1949 noir “D.O.A.,” raptly attentive as Edmond O’Brien reports a murder (his own!) in San Francisco, Mont narrating each beat for his granddad.

The tiny audience basking in the flickering light makes for a charmingly eccentric tableau. In another movie, it might read as decorative filler, the kind filmmakers use to mortar together story-advancing scenes. Except that everything counts: the specter of death, Mont’s narration, Jimmie’s perch on the floor. Each detail adds meaning to a story that builds associatively and obliquely, and often through nods rather than shouts. Jimmie is safely huddled in this room, but loss — of his parents, home and city — pervades his life, which means that (just like Edmond O’Brien’s) his future might be lost too.San Francisco’s Fading Black Presence, Captured on FilmJune 4, 2019

Much of the story and its tension involve Jimmie’s stubborn claim on his family’s former house, a majestic Victorian in the Fillmore district. An older white man and woman live there now, which doesn’t stop Jimmie from rebuking them about the garden or propping up a ladder to paint a windowsill. When they leave for good, Jimmie surreptitiously moves in, filling the wood-paneled rooms with the furnishings that his father didn’t lose during the family’s grimmer times. Mont moves in too and it’s there that he will at last turn his ideas — the scribbles and delicate drawings that fill his red notebook — into a climatic, reflexive theatrical performance.

This more or less explains what happens, but it’s the how that matters in “Last Black Man.” This is, remarkably, the first feature directed by Talbot, who shares screenwriting credit with Rob Richert. The story has a clear through line in Jimmie’s odyssey back home and beyond. When he’s not staring into the distance (an untrained performer, Fails has a face for contemplation), Jimmie is on the move, storming San Francisco on his skateboard or rowing off in a fantasy. Mostly, the movie has a cascade of images and ideas, reference points and glimpses of everyday beauty that flow and swirl and, over time, gather tremendous force.

The history of black San Francisco is folded in here as well, directly and otherwise. The movie opens opposite the grandfather’s house with a girl looking up at a man in a hazmat suit. She soon skips out of the story, and while there are other references to pollution, you need to dig on your own to know more about the neighborhood, Bayview-Hunters Point, which sits on a peninsula in the San Francisco Bay. For decades, the Navy maintained a shipyard there on which it studied radiation and decontaminated ships exposed to atomic testing. The shipyard employed thousands of African-Americans, and when it closed area unemployment spiked.