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Gary Stogsdill is an Emeritus Faculty at Prescott College in Arizona.

SEE MORE ESSAYS WRITTEN BY GARY STOGSDILL

Is Enlightenment a Dissociative Disorder of the Mind?

Gary Stogsdill

As I was writing a recent essay for Integral World on the adverse effects of meditation, a thought popped into my head that inspired this endnote: “I'm starting to suspect that when spiritual teachers or meditators claim they have attained enlightenment, they really mean they are living in a state of extreme derealization.” Even as I wrote this endnote, part of my mind was objecting: “No, it can't be true; the hallowed promised land of enlightenment that has captured the fancy of so many for so long as the pinnacle of spiritual development cannot possibly be a state of mind that is considered by psychologists and psychiatrists to be a concerning dissociative disorder.” Or can it be true? This current essay explores exactly that possibility.

First, we need to define terms. Derealization is straightforward, thanks to it being a category of dissociative disorders described by the American Psychiatric Association in its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, 5th edition, where it's called Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder. The defining feature is feeling detached from one's self and one's reality to the point where “one's surroundings and other people… may appear as if part of a dream“ (Theravive).

Spiritual enlightenment, on the other hand, is harder to pin down because those who claim it tend to talk about it in different ways [1], but perhaps we can find a recurring theme that is pertinent to this essay. The Buddhist term most often translated as “enlightenment” is Bhodi, which literally means “to wake up,” and the Buddha's name itself means “one who is awake.” Gurdjieff, one of the first independent spiritual teachers in the West, based his entire teachings on the idea that normal humans are asleep and enlightenment results from “the work” of waking up. Yogananda, author of Autobiography of a Yogi and early popularizer of the spiritual path of yoga in the West, often referred to enlightenment in terms of awakening to the realization that you and everyone else are a dream of God. Swami Satchidananda, the iconic guru who opened the 1969 Woodstock music festival and founded Integral Yoga [2], spoke of enlightenment as “awakening from the dream.” Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, founder of Transcendental Meditation and guru of the Beatles for a few weeks, referred to enlightenment as being “fully awake.” The infamous Rolls Royce guru [3], Rajneesh, later known as Osho, said that enlightenment is awakening to the point that “this whole reality becomes unreal.”

This recurring theme of “waking up from the dream of ordinary life” is uncannily similar to the definition of derealization: “feeling detached from one's self and one's reality to the point where one's surroundings and other people appear as if part of a dream.” Can we find anything beyond similar descriptions that might link enlightenment to derealization? Yes, one thing all of the above spiritual teachers had in common is that they practiced a lot of meditation at some point in their lives. Dr. Willoughby Britton and other researchers established in their 10-year-long Varieties of Contemplative Experience study that derealization can be an adverse effect of meditation. I was devoted to meditation for 24 years as a young adult, much of that time in close association with a community of other serious meditators, and derealization was present to a greater or lesser extent in all of the meditators that I knew personally, as well as in myself. This leads me to suspect that nearly everyone who has engaged in a serious enough and long enough meditation practice will enter derealization.

In my experience, it's easy to identify with derealization as a sign of spiritual progress because it feels like we have awakened from a dreamlike ordinary reality, like we have transcended ordinary perception. After I had been devoted to my spiritual path for many years (and was deep into derealization due to excessive meditation practice), I started leading meditation groups and spiritual study groups. During this time a few people came to me privately to ask if I would be their guru, including a psychiatrist who, after I said no the first time, came back the following week with a two-page signed contract stating that he agreed to obey everything I might tell him. Fortunately for all, I had the good sense, even in a state of derealization, to know that it would be a disaster for me to try to play that role. But my story illustrates something significant for this essay: when you live in a constant state of derealization, you not only feel completely different but also other people take notice of how different you are. It would therefore be easy for a well-intentioned person on a serious spiritual path to equate their derealized state of mind with enlightenment and perhaps even enter a guru role that probably no one is ever ready for.

Of course, we need more than just my own lived experience to make a compelling case that enlightenment may actually be derealization. Given that no guru who wants to keep his job is going to say at some point, “Ooops, my bad, I'm no different from you, I've just been living in derealization,” what can we look for to indicate that the much-coveted attainment of enlightenment might actually be the acquisition of a dissociative disorder of the mind? Since enlightenment is commonly considered the highest expression of human potential, we have one certain way of evaluating it: behavior. If enlightenment is really the pinnacle of human development, it would at the very least bestow moral excellence. I know that integral theorist Ken Wilber separates morality and spirituality into completely different lines of development, but I think that is a mistake [4]. Our ethical behavior is not some distinct ability like skill in mathematics or music; rather, it's the clearest indication of who we really are at the core of our being. Very little is revealed about us if we feel oneness while meditating, but our interactions with other living beings speak volumes about who we are. And of what value is spiritual development if it does not affect who we really are at the core of our being?

Let's take a quick peak at the moral behavior of a few of the most famous gurus of the 20th century. Gurdjieff was prodigiously promiscuous; his student and personal attendant John G. Bennet reported this: “At times, he had sexual relationships not only with almost any woman who happened to come within the sphere of his influence, but also with his own pupils. Quite a number of his women pupils bore him children” (Gurdjieff on Sex). Gurdjieff himself boasted of fathering over one hundred children (Gurdjieff on Sex). Meanwhile, for his students, “Gurdjieff's teachings on sex were rigorously conservative,” including the condemnation of sex for pleasure, the requirement that his disciples observe monastic-like separation between men and women, and the timeless wisdom that masturbation turns one into a psychopath (Gurdjieff on Sex).

Charismatic guru Swami Satchidananda wore the robes of India's ancient swami order of renunciation and obviously used the title Swami, which implies celibacy. He also taught his unmarried followers to remain strictly celibate (Satchidananda, the Complex Truth). In the 1990s, numerous women, including two of his former secretaries, came forward with allegations that Satchidananda had used his authority as their spiritual teacher to molest them and coerce them into having sexual relations with him, extending all the way back to the late 1960s when Satchidananda had first arrived in America (Stripping the Gurus; Satchidananda, the Complex Truth). Some said he would refer to them as his “spiritual daughter” (Satchidananda, the Complex Truth). Meanwhile, this same Swami Satchidananda scolded the many other gurus who had become embroiled in sex scandals by telling them to stop pretending they were imparting tantric wisdom, and instead, “If you want to have sex, be open about it. Say, 'I love you, child, I love you, my devotee'” (Stripping the Gurus). Nothing creepy about that, right?

The “giggling guru” Maharishi Mahesh Yogi also wore India's robes of renunciation and taught that “you had to be celibate to progress spiritually” (Sexy Romps of the Beatle's Giggling Guru). He surely had plenty to giggle about because allegations of sexual misconduct with disciples followed him for decades. One of his personal assistants detailed how “the Maharishi had sex with her multiple times over the course of two years before moving on to other women,” adding that “the Maharishi had at least sixteen other mistresses during her two years of [sexual involvement] with him” (Maharishi Mahesh Yogi). Many of the accusers claimed that the Maharishi seduced them with the promise of “added cosmic wisdom” (Maharishi Mahesh Yogi: A “dirty old man” or counterculture guru?). Apparently this cosmic wisdom included “don't tell anyone,” and in the case of pregnancy “get married quick” (Maharishi Mahesh Yogi).

Swami Muktananda founded Siddha Yoga and was highly regarded as the “guru's guru.” He taught that a guru “should possess every virtue” (Stripping the Gurus) and claimed total celibacy for himself (The Secret Life of Swami Muktananda). He also insisted on strict celibacy from any student staying in his ashrams (Stripping the Gurus). Meanwhile, at his ashram in America, Muktananda had a special table constructed so he could use “the real Indian positions” for his frequent sexual escapades (The Secret Life of Swami Muktananda). And at his ashram in India, “he had a secret passageway from his house to the young girls dormitory… [with] girls marching in and out of his bedroom all night long” (The Secret Life of Swami Muktananda). The phrase “young girls” was not used carelessly; our “guru's guru” preferred that his victims be in their early teens. Clearly, this was a guru that “possessed every virtue.”

I could go on, but I don't want to because it's disheartening to dwell on the depths of moral weakness from those who should be the best among us. I have only mentioned these examples in order to make two points. One is to spotlight the utter lack of self-control or ethical development in matters of sexuality on the part of many who claim enlightenment. Ironically, sexual integrity is a foundational teaching of virtually every credible spiritual path, which means all of these gurus would have been shamelessly violating their own teachings [5]. Of course, devotees of the gurus engaging in such immoral behavior will quickly assure us that their guru was imparting important tantric wisdom to the young disciple by doing sexual things with her. Yes, of course he was, and that wisdom for the disciple would be, “Get away from that creepy old man as fast as possible.”

My other and more essential point is to show that those who claim enlightenment are no different in their ethical behavior than the rest of us, except that they tend to be much worse than most of us. In fact, we would be hard pressed to find any guru who exhibits the level of moral integrity that most of us expect from ourselves and try to instill in our children. As Integral World author Dr. Joseph Dillard observed: “How is it that so many spiritual paragons, when closely examined, turn out to be moral pygmies?” (Commentary on a Wilber Interview).

Indeed, why is this? A small piece of the puzzle is likely because the guru-disciple dynamic gives those claiming enlightenment power over others in a way that the rest of us do not experience. But this power dynamic cannot fully explain it. I'm convinced that most of us reading this essay, if we woke up tomorrow and found ourselves wielding that kind of power over adoring others, would treat them well and not indulge in blatantly immoral behavior, because we are decent people at our core, meaning we have moral standards and a well-developed conscience that helps us adhere to those standards. There has to be something more going on with the enlightened ones, and it may be the fact that extreme derealization carries a strong degree of detachment from normal human concerns. This would allow the “enlightened beings” to feel that they have transcended moral standards and would therefore mitigate the protective role of conscience in their behavior with others.

As an example of this detachment from normal human concerns, I mentioned in my last essay that I was leading a spiritual study group that happened to meet just a couple of days after the horrific 1995 Oklahoma City bombing that claimed 168 lives including 19 infants and preschool children. While others in the study group were expressing shock and grief about this tragedy, the most senior meditator laughed jauntily and said, “Oh, don't you people get it? This is all a dream; it's not real.” If we feel like we're living in a dream detached from others who are not really real, we can more easily indulge our worst instincts with them. It's just not that important what happens to others when they are inhabiting our dream.

At this point, I want to offer a different perspective about derealization that appears to counter the argument of this essay. One of my favorite authors is science writer John Horgan [6], who has lived with episodes of derealization since childhood and has learned to use it for good purpose: “By estranging me from the world, derealization, paradoxically, makes everything more real. It helps me see humanity more clearly and care about it more deeply” (Is Derealization a Delusion or Insight?). For Horgan, derealization allows him to gain deeper insight about life and feel more connected to others. I have no reason to doubt the truth of Horgan's assertion; he is one of the most insightful authors I've read. But I think the perspective of this essay and Horgan's lived experience can both be true for the following reasons.

First, Horgan does not live constantly in a state of derealization, rather he experiences occasional episodes, which allows him to know that ordinary reality is real and that derealization is the anomaly. Instead of permanently detaching him from ordinary reality, this causes him to care more deeply about it, to become more attached. Without the extreme detachment caused by constant derealization, I don't believe any of the gurus we highlighted earlier could have behaved so poorly. Second, Horgan told me that in his experience of derealization he feels unreal along with everyone and everything else, which would be the full depersonalization/derealization (Dissociative Disorders), whereas in my experience of derealization I felt real while everyone and everything else felt unreal, which is just derealization and the meaning I am using in this essay. I believe this is the derealization induced by serious meditation and therefore is the experience of enlightenment that can explain why gurus tend to behave like “moral pygmies.”

In fact, Horgan's positive experience of derealization may lend support to the argument of this essay. One reason why gurus are accepted as enlightened is because some of them can be truly insightful about life. Horgan is a prime example of how derealization can bestow insight, even compassion, and not only the extreme detachment from ordinary reality that invites harmful behavior.

I also want to acknowledge the objection that many gurus and disciples themselves would raise to dismiss the argument of this essay. German scholar-practitioner of yoga spirituality Georg Feuerstein expressed it this way:

The purpose of spiritual practice is to “deconstruct” our carefully constructed consensus reality so that we can recover the Reality that lies beneath, or beyond, all our signs and symbols. This process of deconstruction, in which all meaning is transcended, resembles madness… .The task of the spiritual guide, the guru, is to facilitate this mind-shattering discovery. (Holy Madness, p. 213)

In other words, all of us who are not enlightened are the ones living in a state of dissociation from the real Reality, while the “awakened ones” (who, according to this essay, are likely living in the dissociative disorder of derealization) are actually the only ones who can experience this real Reality. That is a seductive argument [7], and it definitely describes what meditation-induced derealization feels like. If you are living in extreme derealization, it feels like you have attained something special that is dramatically more real than ordinary human life, but the operative phrase here is “feels like.” Just because something feels like it's more real in no way means that is actually the case. If that were the case, then virtually everyone who ingests a psychedelic substance will have solved the ultimate mysteries of the universe, because that's often what it feels like. After living in constant derealization for more than two decades and then doing the hard work required to fully exit that condition, I understood, painfully, that I had simply been living in dissociation and not in a higher reality [8].

Based on the facts and argument of this essay, I believe that the foundational state of mind involved in most, if not all, cases of enlightenment is the dissociative disorder of derealization. If that is actually correct, would it mean that spirituality is a fool's errand, that the nihilists are right: everything is inherently meaningless, just random matter and energy that somehow emerged from nothing and will one day dissolve into nothing? Not at all for me, because I believe the beginning of spirituality requires standing before the mysteries of life with openness, humility, and wonder. As an insightful science writer put it:

Scientists cannot explain the origin of the universe, the origin of life, the origin of consciousness. The more scientists ponder our existence, the more improbable it seems. There is no reason for me to exist, or you to exist, and yet here we are. (John Horgan: The Metaphysical Meaning of Performance Anxiety)

Each of these mysteries suggest that reality is much more than what science can reveal to us and also much more than what our human mind can know. Spirituality is alive and well even if enlightenment is actually a dissociative disorder of the mind. The argument of this essay, if correct, would only mean that we need to stop idolizing so-called enlightened beings and instead treat them no differently than anyone else, except that we would need to exercise greater vigilance and protection in their company given that they can be morally dangerous due to derealization.

NOTES:

[1] The exception to this statement is that those whose spiritual practice has occurred within the same lineage or tradition naturally use similar language in describing enlightenment.

[2] Not to be confused with the Integral Yoga of Sri Aurobindo or, of course, with the Integral Theory of Ken Wilber.

[3] At the peak of his fame, Rajneesh owned 93 Rolls Royce's (Rajneesh Movement), no doubt to be a shining example of the yogic virtue of non-possession.

[4] Perhaps the reason Wilber separates morality from spirituality is because he has eyes like the rest of us and can see that most gurus are a moral train wreck.

[5] This is why the spiritual teacher of the group I used to be connected with was found liable in civil court for fraud in addition to the usual sexual misconduct charges after more than two dozen women had the courage to stand up to him. It is indeed fraud to tell your followers that you are a celibate swami and to teach sexual integrity while you are secretly engaged in sexual predation.

[6] A long-time staff writer for Scientific American, Horgan's books include The End of Science, The End of War, Rational Mysticism, and Mind-Body Problems. He currently writes an online journal called Cross-Check.

[7] It's also a masterpiece of irony that a tiny fraction of humans who have sufficiently engaged in meditation practice, which is known to cause the dissociative disorder of derealization, is telling the rest of us that we are the ones living in dissociation from what is real.

[8] I described this more fully in my last essay: “It actually took a few years after I ended my own excessive practice before I fully emerged from derealization and understood that I had been living in it for more than two decades. This is an extraordinary shift in consciousness: one moment you are certain of being on the path of ultimate truth that transcends a dreamlike normal reality, and the next moment you realize that your mind had been tricking you. Then it becomes a bitter pill to swallow to accept that you were the one living in a dreamlike reality instead of all the 'unenlightened' people living in normal consciousness. This can be a long and painful transition back to sanity, which is why few of my former meditation friends have been able to do it.”