A QUALITATIVE STUDY OF PROLONGED POSITIVE STATES OF BEING

A Dissertatlon Presented By
A. E. D'AGUANNO
August !974

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would first like to express appreciation for the help, encouragement and tolerance for exploration given to me by the members of my committee, Dr. Dee Appley (chairperson), Dr. Alexandra Kaplan, Dr. Harold Raush, and Dr. John Weston [see Footnote 1]. I would specifically like to thank Dr. Appley for the meetings we had in the somewhat murky beginnings of this effort. The interest, excitement, and warmth displayed by all of these people is also very much appreciated.

Secondly, I would like to thank the 11 people who consented to let me in on some very exciting, often intimate, experiences. Without their honesty, openness, and trust of my intentions, this study would never have been completed.

Finally, I wish to thank Sally Ives for her excellent and patient job of typing and Jackie Day for her valuable help in transcribing some of the tape-recordings.

There are very few studies in psychology focusing on very positive (or "healthy") states of being; much more common are studies exploring states of pathology.

Inspired by a personal experience of the author which occurred in the summer of 1973, this study focused on "prolonged positive states of being," defined as:

A prolonged experience (of at least several days duration but possibly much longer) during which the person felt fully alive, fully healthy, functioning to the utmost of his or her capabilities, and with an absence, or minimum, of conflicts.

Eleven people (seven women and four men, ranging in ages from about 20 to over 40) who had had such an experience were located. These experiences ranged in duration from three days to about three years.

The method employed in the study was individual in-depth interviews focusing on the individual's experlence. The person first gave an account of the experience in his or her own words. A set of specific questions was then asked of each individual.

The results of the study are presented in two ways: 1) A detailed case-study is provided for each of the 11 experiences; 2) A comparison or analysis is made of some of the relevant dimensions of the experience. Some of the more important results of this analysis are:

1) There is usually a prior period of anxiety, conflict, frustration, or depression,

2) The onset usually involves some change in the external environment (either a change of physical location or a new relationship), but may also involve withdrawal-like activity (e.g., meditation).

3) The experience itself brings about a change in activity: the most common changes being an increased emphasis on physical activity and awareness of the body, and a reduction or absence of the usual pressures associated with working.

4) There is a sense of freedom in relationship with others, an unusual degree of intimacy, often after very little contact, and a tolerant, relaxed, playful attitude towards people in general.

5) There is a high proportion of very positive feelings-- of both the excited and the relaxed varieties, a low proportion of negative feelings, and an ability to handle, learn from, and grow from negative feelings.

6) There is a quieting of the usual mental dialogue, greater efficiency in thinking and concentration, and, in some cases, an increase in visual imagistic thinking with a corresponding decrease in verbal content.

7) Behavior is balanced between the active and passive poles; it is graceful, powerful, decisive, and "centered."

8) A clearing of the senses and an increased appreciation of sensory phenomena is common.

9) There is often a heightened sense of significance or meaning, as well as a heightened sense of reality.

10) There is often an experience of the unification of some normally polarized dichotomies, especially: se1f/other, outer/inner, feelings/thoughts, desires/values, selfish/selfless, freedom/determinism, conscious/unconscious, and masculine/feminine.

11) There is a more clear apprehension of an "inner voice" or "sense," often localized around the lower abdomen region of the body, and an increased trust in one's intuitive impulses.

12) There is often a slowed-down experience of time, a feeling of the irrelevancy of the usual division of experience into temporal units, and a sense of being in the present moment.

13) Some experiences contained examples of 'psychic' phenomena: synchronous events, ESP, precognition, or paranormal phenomena.

14) Omitted.

15) The end of the experlence usually coincided with a change in the external environment (such as a change of location or a loss of a significant other, often the teacher or guide). The end might also be due in part to pressures exerted by other people.

16) The experience is seen as part of an overall process of growth and is usually felt to have "spiritual" (but not religious) implications.

17) The experience usually brings about very positive changes in the person's life, lasting long after the experience itself has terminated.

18) Although this type of experience is felt to be relatively rare in the course of a person's life, most people could remember at least one previous similar experience and did not discount the possibility of future occurrences. In fact, several people felt the experience taught them some of the essentials for having a similar experience and might thereby facilitate such an occurrence in the future.

This type of experience may be viewed as a state of "being" in the midst of "becomlng"-- a synthesis of Maslow's descriptions of positive states ("peak experiences" and "self actualization") and Jung's description of the growth of the personality ("individuation").

Implications for the field of psychology and, in particular, the application of this research to therapy, are discussed.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter I Introduction 1

A Personal Experience 1

Chapter II Review of the literature 7

Theoretical Studies 12
Empirical Studies 32
Firsthand Accounts of Prolonged Positive Experiences 40

Chapter III Rationale and method for a Qualitative Study of Prolonged Positive States of Being 48

Method of the Present Study 52

Chapter IV Findings of the Study: Individual Experiences 61

Angela Rimbaud 64
Peter O'Donnell 76
Craig Postman 85
Emilia Kinkaid 93
Janice Darrow 104
Lilian krackow 112
Singh Ramur 122
Jamy Bryerson 129
Anne Watson 139
Suzanne Nervi 143
Wescott Pomeroy 153

Chapter V Findings of the Study: Discussion of Some of the Relevant Dimonsions of the Experience 164

Duration 164
Location 175
Prior Period 166
Onset 168
Characteristics of the State itself 173
Activity 173
Relationships with others 176
Feelings 184
Thinking 187
Behavior 191
Senses 195
Sense of Significance or Meaning 200
Sense of Reality 201
Unification of Opposites 203
Self/Other 203
Outer/Inner 205
Subjective/Objective 206
Feelings/Thoughts 2O7
Masculine/Feminine 207
Desires/Values 2O9
Selfish/Selfless 210
Freedom/Determinism 211
Conscious/Unconscious 213
Consciousness of an "Inner Voice" 213
Time Sense 216
Psychic Phenomena 218
Teachers or Spiritual Guides 224
End of the Experience 225
Characterizations of the Total Process 229
Results of the Experience 231
Similar Experiences 234
Chapter VI Conclusions and Implications 235

CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION

[1] [Note: Numbers in square brackets correspond to page numbers in original manuscript]

There is a very curious phenomenon existing in the field of psychology: the almost total exclusion of the concern with, thought about, or study of states of health or positLve states of being. This exclusion is so total as to have almost passed unnoticed by many in the field. When one thinks of the states of being under the province of psychology one normally thinks of depression, anxiety, neurosis, paranoia, schizophrenia, etc., but rarely of happliness, ecstasy, joy, or contentment.

The present study, which has its origins in the personal experiences of the author, is a small step towards a psychology of positive being. Its focus is on prolonged positive experience-- those experiences having a duration of at least several days, but possibly much longer. I will attempt to relate the experiences to the growth of the total personality.

A Personal Experience

For a little over three weeks, I was on a journey at once physical, psychological, and spiritual. I was free and was flying high-- perhaps freer and higher than ever before in my life.

The physical facts are easy to relate: I left Los [2] Angeles on a Sunday morning in early August; I hitched on U.S. 1 up the Pacific coast; two or three days in Bug Sur, four or five in Santa Cruz, then a few in San Franclsco and Berkeley, inland into the woods and mountalns for over a week, then back to San Francisco and Berkeley for several days before taking a plane from San Francisco to Boston.

I met many people and developed several intense relationships in very short periods of time. I camped out in the woods, on the beaches, in the mountains, or stayed with people I met while on the road. I ate whenever I was hungry, was alone when I needed to be, climbed or ran when the urge hit me, and went out to people when I felt like belng with someone.

I was leaving behind one of the most bizarre, intense, frightening, lonely, rich, challenging, tension-filled years of my llfe-- an internship at a chlld guidance clinic in Los Angeles, a city where initially I knew absolutely no one-- to which I had hitched some 6,OOO miles (through Canada and the West coast) a year earlier. I had been in this strange city for a year without a car-- in a place where a car is almost as necessary for survival as is food. This was the year an intense relationship (with a woman) of several years' duration, was shattered. There were the innumerable pressures of the clinic and constant challenges to my ideas and clinical work by some very good (and also by some very bad) supervisors. There were personal conflicts of unprecedented [3] magnitude, finally culminating in a decision to enter therapy. What I was leaving behind was a period in which I threw myself headlong into a totally new and, for the most part, alien environment and tried very hard to find the life energy in it and within myself. I left Los Angeles with a feeling of completion and a feeling of impatience to be free, to be on the road again, to be in the sun (without a protective coating of smog).

Two or three days out of the city I started experiencing a peace and calmness perhaps unknown at any other time in my life. I was happy, joyful, delighted at being alive. I was excited and was bursting with energy-- physical, mental, and emotional. I felt almost totally free and unrestricted. My actLons seemed more spontaneous and "right" (in the sense of belng appropriate to the total situation). My thoughts were clearer, quieter, and less conflicted than usual. In addition, several aspects of living which in everyday life are usually polarized, dichotomized, or in conflict were found to be somehow "fused:" thoughts and feelings were often felt to be united; there was little difference between desires and values; actions that seemed good for me seemed to be good for others; the boundary between 'myself' and the outside world was at times obliterated. I was much more aware than is usual for me of an "inner voice" or "impulse" that "told me" what I wanted to do in any situation. I felt free to follow this voice as I wished although I can't remember not [4] following it. My senses seemed much sharper than normal (as if 'cleansed'). I felt that I was able to notice smaller details or subtleties that I normally night have missed. I had more appreciation of just being alive and of the entire Universe (especially Nature) than perbaps ever before (certalnly for any prolonged duration such as this).

The ways in which I met and experienced others were very different from what I was used to. I was able to relate to the most varied and diverse people, many of whom had certaln qualities or traits which I would have normally disliked or even have found abhorrent, with an almost continuous positive feeling. I met people incredibly easily and seemed to be aware of cues (mostly non-verbal) I would have ordinarily missed. These provided "openings" in what might have appeared otherwise to be impregnable walls. I met Mike (around 20) when I asked him if he knew of a good place to eat in Santa Cruz. We ate together, talked, and ended up travelling together for the next four or five days. I met Frances after noticing her at a distance whi1e I was sitting near a fountain. A11 at once she was walk{ng directly towards me across a vast plaza; we looked directly at each other; she sat down next to me and we started talking as if we knew each other. I was with her for the next two days. I met Anne while she was selllng jewelry she had made on the street in Berkeley. I helped her carry her displays to her house. She began getting a little anxious that I would want, something she wasn't [5] prepared to give. I sensed this and left. The next day I saw her agaln. We talked very intensely whlle sitting on the curb, with traffic buzzing all around us. I went home with her and was with her for the next four days. In these and other relatlonships, I felt that I could dispense with almost all of the customary social preliminaries and relate on a very intimate level (including the sexual level in a few instances) very quickly and without self-consciousness. It was as if I had found a new key for relating to people. Many times I didn't have to make the initial move-- people approached me (this included women, which is still rare in our culture and certainly rare in my previous experience). Apparently others could find ny "spaces" and move into them as easily as I could find and move into theirs. Leavlng was done by "feel" and not by forethought or planning. When it felt rlght to leave, I (or the other person) simply left. There were rarely any regrets or hurt feelings. There was also an open-ended feeling about the future course of the relationship. In several cases, I later communicated by letter with people that I had met. One girl visited me several times after I returned to Massachusetts. It is possible that I may see some of these people in the future.

On the twenty-fourth day of my journey, I was conscious of having to make a decision-- whether to prolong my trip or to return to the East coast and a new job due to start in several days. I could have sent a telegram saying I would be [6] back in a week, but smehow I knew it was over. I flew from San Francisco to Boston that night.

Almost immediately on my return I experienced the crash.I felt like I was jolted back to earth with the harsh reality of everyday demands-- finding a place to live, getting a car, the demands of my new job, the anxiety over my doctoral dissertation, the pain of seeing the woman I had formerly been living with now with someone else. Gradually, however, I became resettled in the New England environment and even, in time, began to feel that many of the positive effects of my experience were being carried over. These effects were especially noticeable once I had reentered therapy. Because of the impact on my life of this experience and because of my desire to discover something about this type of experience in the lives of others, I decided to do research on this very positive state of being.

CHAPTER II REVIEW OF THE LITERATURE

[7] The literature that I will discuss falls into three main categories: 1) theoretlcal discussions of "positive mental health," specifically those discussions focusing on (or at least including mention in the discussion of) periods of prolonged positive experience (of at least several days duratLon); 2) empirical studies investigating "in vivo" situations of a pronounced positive nature. In terms of the range of such experience, I have allowed myself wider scope than I have in the theoretical section. For example, I have included several studies of less prolonged positive experiences (note especially the "ecstatic experience"). In each case I have focused primarily on those aspects of the shorter experience which might conceivably be also part of a more prolonged experience; 3) literary or autobiographical accounts of prolonged positive experiences.

I have excluded (with a few exceptions) the following:

1) theoretical or empirical studies of drug experiences and other externally- or self-induced short-term altered states of consciousness (for example, the immediate effects of such practlces as meditation, yoga, or hypnosis). Not only is the duration of such experience typically short, but such experiences are usually difficult to conceptualize [8] as part of the natural development of the personality (Tart, 1969; White, 1972). In addition, most altered states of consciousness (as that term is defined by Ludwig, 1966 in Tart, 1969) are too intense to al1ow a course of "normal" action and interaction. Finally, certain features of such states seem very much opposed to the qualities of the state under dlscusslon here: 1) subjective dlsturbances in concentration, memory, and judgment; 2) loss of control; 3) perceptual distortions ; 4) hypersuggestibility (Ludwig in Tart, 1969).

2) The type of religious or "mystical" experience (examples: the religious "conversion" experience, in James, 1961; the. "mystical" experience, in Zaehner, 1967; the "satori" or enlightenment experience of Zen, in Kapleau, 1965; Linssen, 1969) in which a person is momentarily (or, for at the very most, a few hours) in a different state of consciousness (sometimes without any attempt at self-induction). Here again the duration of the experience is too short for the experience to be considered in this study. In addition, some of these states may exclude consciousness of the external world for the duration of the experience (James, 1961).

In the above two categories of experlence, an outward or internal stimulus trlggers a very intensen but relatively brief, alteration of consciousness. Omly in so far as these types of experiences aid in elucidating the nature of more prolonged experiences w111 they be considered. (It sometimes happens, for example, that the onset of a prolonged positive [9] state is somehow connected with an intentional or uninten- tional short-term alteration of consciousness. Thus a meditation or yogic experience, or a "conversion" or "satori" experience may lead to a longer [usually less intense] state.)

The most striking characteristic of the psychological literature on positive states of being is its extreme scarcity. This void is obvious both in empirical studies and in theoretical treatments. A primary reason for this state of affairs is the inadequacy of most current methodology for dealing wLth some of the more complex aspects of man. One critic of modern psychology, Joseph Wood Krutch complained,

We have been deluded by the fact that the methods employed for the study of man have been for the most part those originally devlsed for the study of machines or the study of rats, and are capable, therefore, of detecting and measuring those characteristics which the three have in common (in Allport, 1955, pp. 2-3).

Perhaps less easy to explaln is the scarcity of theoretical discussions of positive mental health or positive states of being. One concept which has only recently been questioned by a number of theoreticians and which has, without a doubt, hindered progress ln thls area, has been the idea of a single continuum from negative mental health ("sickness") [10] to positive mental health. Even with the evidence (which will later be dlscussed) for a two-dimensional view of mental health (comprised of separate positive and negative dimensions), it is difficult for many in the field to conceive of positive mental health as anything but the absence of illness. In an afterword to Jahoda's book, "Current Concepts of Positive Mental Health (1958), Walter Barton, a psychiatrist, confesses,

It is difficult for me, as a clinician, to separate the presence of health from those preventative measures that reduce the likelihood of the development of disease and illness. I believe most patients would settle for the absence of illness. If they are not sick, they are well (p. 119).

Barton believes his view is "typical of physicians." From the overwhelming emphasis on negative states of belng in the field of psychology, it appears that most psychologists agree wlth this view also.

The single continuum idea only partially explains the bias in research towards negatLve factors in the personality. Why, for example, does not the bias go in the positive direction? Among the few who have done emperical studies related to positive states, Bradburn and Caplovitz (1965)frankly admit, "It ls easier to ask people what is wrong in thelr lives and what troubles they are having than it is to ask what is right and what positive satisfactions they are experiencing" (p. 130). Tomklns (1974), commenting on the [11] lack of thorough investigation of the positive affects produced by stimulation of the "pleasure centers" of the brain, offers one possible explanation for this negative bias:

Surprisingly little attention has been glven to the affective changes related to positively rewarding braln stimulation . . . . We can only suppose that the magical use of the word reinforcement is in part responsible for the failure of one of the most important discoveries of this century to be fully exploited theoretically . . . . Its fallure to be exploited derives from its positive nature. Although we are accustomed to food as a reinforcer, It is the reductlon of the negatlve hunger drive which is held to be the true reinforcer, rather than the pleasure of eating. There is an enduring straln of Puritanism in learning theory which prompts avoidance and devaluation of positive reinforcement. The notion that positive stimulation per se can motivate has been for American psychology a bitter pill which has not yet been swallowed with pleasure (pp. 390-391).

Allport (1955) offers an historical basis for the theoretical difficulties Amerlcan psychology has had in accounting for personal growth and positive states of being. Although he apologizes for the oversimplification, Allport views modern psychological theories as tending towards either one of two polar conceptions: these he terms the "Lockian tradition"-- emphasizing the passive nature of man's mind (after Locke) and the "Leibnitzian tradition"-- emphasizing the mind's active nature (after Leibnitz). American psychology, Allport argues, has been primarily Lockian. Some of the major tenets of such a viewpoint seriously undermine attempts at developing a theory of positive being: [12]

1) "That what is external and visible is more fundamental than what ls not" (thereby diminishlng the importance of subjective or internal states of man).

2) "That what is small and molecular is more fundamental than what is large and molar" (thereby making it more difficult to focus on complex behaviors, feelings, thoughts, or states of being).

3) The idea of species equlvalence-- "that every basic feature of human nature can be studied without essential loss among lower species" (thus devalueing the lmportance of studying man in all his uniqueness and complexity).

4) "That what is earlier ls more fundamental than what is late in development"-- "Thls point of view creates considerable difficulty for a theory of growth and change in personality" (pp. 9-11).

Allport continues, "So dominant ls the positivistic ideal that other fields of psychology come to be regarded as not quite reputable. Special aversion attaches to problems having to do with complex motives, high-level integration, with conscience, freedom, selfhood" (p. 12).

In splte of the overwhelming neglect of positive states of being, a few notable theoretical attempts ln this direction have emerged.

Theoretical Studies

Perhaps the most lucid and wide-ranging theory of the process of the growth of the personality was conceived by CarL Gustav Jung. Jung, in fact, saw this growth as central to the meaning of man's life. [13]

The ultimate aim and strongest desire of all man- kind is to develop that fullness of life which is called personality . . . . Our personality develops in the course of our life from germs that are hard or impossible to discern, and it is only our deeds which reveal who we are. We are like the sun, which nourishes the life of the earth and brings forth every kind of strange, wonderful, and evil thing (Jung, 1954, 1967-173).

Jung was careful to point out, however, that only a few would meet the challenge of attaining their own personality. This is, in part, due to the fact that the direction of personal development is often at odds with one's suroundings. Thus, "the first fruit" of the development of personality "is the conscious and unavoidable segregation of the single individual from the undifferentiated and unconscious herd. This means isolation" (Jung, 1954, p. 173).

Jung used the term, "individuation," which he defined as "the process by which a person becomes a psychological 'individual', that is, a separate, indivisible unity or 'whole'" (Jung, 1959b, p. 275). This 'whole' for Jung included not only the contents of the conscious mind but also the contents of the unconscious.

Jung wrote of an "Inner Voice"-- the voice of the true self, which one must follow if one is to develop his personality to the fullest. This voice, "like a daemon whispering of new and wonderful paths" (Jung, 1954, p. 175-176) is essentially unpredictable. The actions of the person following his "Inner Voice" thus take on some unpredictable qualities. The inner voice makes itself heard through dreams, ideas "out [14] of the blue," slips, lapses of memory and spontaneous fantasies (Jung, 1969e).

It is critical for the conscious mind (ego) to confront the unconscious material but not to be overwhelmed by it (this could lead to a schizophrenic reaction). Jung felt that:

The confrontation of the two positions (conscious and unconscious) generates a tension charged with energy and creates a living third thing-- not a logical stillbirth . . . but a movement of the suspension between opposites, a living birth that leads to a new level of being, a new situation. The 'transcendent function' manifests itself as a quality of comprised opposites. So long as these are kept apart-- naturally for the purpose of avoiding conflict-- they do not function and remain inert . . . [This 'transcendent function'] is a way of attaining liberation by one's own efforts and of finding the courage to be onself (Jung, 1969e, pp. 90-91).

The onset of the process of individuation is seen to occur only through "the motivating force of inner or outer fatalities" (Jung, 1954, p. 173)-- otherwise there would be no movement. A Jungian theorist, M.L. von Franz, argues:

The actual process of individuation . . . . generally begins with a wounding of the personality and the suffering that accompanies it. This initial shock amounts to a kind of "call," although it is not usually recognized as such . . . [in such a situation], there is only one thing that seems to work; and that is to turn directly towards the approaching darkness without prejudice and totally naively, and to try to find out what its secret aim is and what it wants from you (in Jung, 1964, p. 167).

Thus, the process of growth is seen to involve [15] experiencing painful states of being and does not occur if such states are glossed over or repressed (Jung, 1959c).

Part of the pain comes from the discarding of the "persona" or social mask that once made up the larger part of the personality and the simultaneous confrontation with the "shadow,"or once hidden negative side of the personality. As the process of individuation continues, the person must confront his "anima" (the female side of a man) or her "animus" (the masculine side of a woman). Other contents of the unconscious are not so easily categorized: they are manifested in "archetypal" images and symbols, which seemingly,"have a lLfe of their own."

Besides the possibility of being overwhelmed by the unconscious contents, the conscious ego runs another risk: the identification with these contents, which produces an "inflation" and "threatens consciousness with dissolution" (Jung, 1959a, p. 145). Each personification of the unconscious has both a dark and a lLght side. The dark side of the "self" (the true psychic center of the personality) is especially dangerous. Confrontation with this aspect of the unconscious can make one a meglomaniac unable to maintain ordinary human contacts. In order to counteract this danger, the ego must continue to function in the ordinary way at the same time the self is contacted (Franz, in Jung, 1964).

There are two main blocks to the process of individuation: [16]

1) Being caught up by instincts (ex.: sexual) or day-dreaming; or

2) The exact opposite: "being overly trapped in "ego-consciousness" (the concerns of external reality-- making a living, success, etc.) (Franz, in Jung, 1954).

"Almost invariably accompanying the crucial phases of the process of individuation" are "synchronistic events"-- meaningful coincidences that cannot be explained in causal terms (Franz, in Jung, 1964, p. 211). Examples of synchronous events are extra-sensory perception (ESP), astrological "predictions" or "coincidences," psycho-kinesis (PK), and premonitions of physical events. This class of events will be more fully discussed later on in this paper.

Goldbrunner, a Jungian theorist, gives some indication of the outcome of the process of individuation:

The tensions and opposites fade and alternate, and the self is born, the goal of individuation, dis- solvable probLems lose their urgency as a higher and wider interest arises on the horizon. The problems from which one suffers are not solved logically but simply fade out in the face of a new and stronger direction, in life . . .

The strength of the emotions ls felt even now, one suffers, is shattered and tormented, and yet everything is different, something in the soul is no longer inside pain, but beyond it. And this is the deepest place where one ls quite alone with oneself.

The ego feels itself to be an obJect, a part of an unknown and superior self. It is as though the conduct of life's affairs had passed to an invisible central authority. The appearance of thls feeling almost always brings a solution of, spiritual complications, the personality is released from [17] emotional and lntellectual entanglements. A unity of one's whole nature is experienced which is felt as llberatlon . . . .

The new centre of the psyche is felt to be a point of suspension of all tensions; it is outside them and yet it embraces them in a peculiar way. It unites them in a center; something like pure life, pure psychic energy can be felt there (1964 pp. 144-150).

While Jung stressed primarily the process of growth or "becomlng" Abraham Maslow in his work, Towards a Psychology of Being (1962), focused more lntensely on the actual healthy state of "being."

Maslow clearly differentiates deficiency ("D") motivation from growth (or "B" for "being") motivation-- the former is based on the reduction of tension resulting from prlmary needs (hunger, thirst, sex, etc.) or from neurotic conflicts; the latter is based on a continual striving for personal growth and integration. In Maslow's theory, the lower needs must be met before the higher needs emerge. Thus, he argues, "Man's higher nature, ideals, aspirations, and abilities rest not upon instinctual renunciatlon, but rather upon instinctual gratificatlon" (p. 163).

Maslow's theory is derived both from clinical work and personal contact with healthy (or "self-actualized" people) and from interviews and questionnaires about the "peak experience"-- a momentary experience of rapture, wonder, joy, and, perhaps above all, unity. The condition of self-actualization is defined by Maslow as having the following clinically [18] observable characteristics:

1) Superior perception of reality.
2) Increased acceptance of self, of others, and of nature.
3) Increased spontaneity.
4) Increase in problem-centering.
5) Increased detachment and desire for privacy.
6) Increased autonomy and resistance to enculturation.
7) Greater freshness of appreciation and richness of emotional reaction.
8) Higher frequency of peak experiences.
9) Increased identity wIth the human species.
10) Changed (the clinician would say improved) interpersonal relatlonships.
11) More democratic character structure.
12) Greatly increased creativity.
13) Certain changes in the value system (1962 pp. 23-24).

Most or all of these characteristics may be present at some time durlng the state under investigation here.

Several other aspects of Maslow's work have relevance to this study. Of primary importance is the fusion of opposites into a new whole (or "gestalt") characteristic of being in both the peak experience and in the lives of self-actualized people.

At the level of self-actualizing, many dichotomies become resolved, opposites are seen to be unities and the whole dichotomous way of thinking is recognized to be immature. For self-actualizing people, there is a strong tendency for selfishness and unselfishness to fuse into a higher, superordinate unity. Work tends to be the same as play . . . . When duty is pleasant and pleasure is fuifillment of duty, then they lose their separateness and oppositeness. The highest maturity ls discovered to include a childlike quality . . . . The inner-outer split, between self and all else, gets fuzzy and much less sharp (p. 193). [19]

Another type of integration in self-actualization is a lessening of the separation between behavioral, affective, and cognitive systems. The resolution of once-conflicted elements in this state leads to a freeing of once "bound" energy; this energy is now available for outside interests and creative pursuits. Because of the lack of inner conflict, a person who ls self-actuatized is more likely to be able to deal with situations of external stress or conflict and even to seek out (as exciting) situations which are dangerous, ambiguous, or which have unknown or mysterious elements.

Another relevant aspect of Maslow's theory is his notion of "impulse voices"-- analagous to Jung's "Inner Voice." These he feels are "instinct remnants" and are:

weak, subtle, and delicate, very easily drowned out by learning, by cultural expectations, by fear, by disapproval, etc. They are hard to know, rather than easy. Authentic selfhood can be defined in part as being able to hear these impulse-voices within oneself, i.e. to know what one really wants or doesn't want, what one is fit for and what one is not fit for. It appears that there are wide individual differences in the strength of these impulse-volces (p. 179).

Finally, Maslow, like Jung, emphasizes the intrlnsic pain of growth, whlch "frequently means a parting and a separatLon, even a kind of death prior to rebirth, with consequent nostalgia, fear, loneliness, and mourning" (p. 190).

The work of William James (1961) sheds lights on a particular sub-category of positive experiences, those he terms [20] "religious" experiences. Some of these types of experiences may be relatively brief, notably the "mystic" experience which has 'transiency' as one of its defining characteristics and the religious "conversion" experience whlch itself is normally very intense and: short-lived (often momentary-- rarely more than a few hours) but may have long-lasting (even permanent) after-effects of a very positive nature. For this reason, we will examine those aspects of the conversion experience which appear to have some relevance for the understanding of the more durable state, which James calls "saintliness."

James views the conversion experience as a shift in consciousness. Religious ideas or values which were once peripheral to one's existence become (often suddenly) central. But he adds:

If you ask of psychology just how the excitement shifts in a man's mental system, and why aims that were peripheral become at a certain moment central, psychology has to reply that although she can give a general description of what happens, she is unable in a given case to account accurately for all the forces at work . . . . Neither an outstde observer nor thesubject who undergoes the processcan explain fully how particular experiences are able to change one's center of energy so decisively, or why they often have to bide their hour to do so (James, 1961, p. 165).

Even though a man may consciously strive to become converted, in the end he must surrender to a higher power. James believes Starbuck's explanation of the process is a [21] good one and quotes it:

The personal will must be given up . . . a man's conscious wit and will, so far as they strain towards the ideal, are aiming at something only dimly perceived and inaccuratety imagined. Yet all the while the forces of mere organic ripening within him are going towards their own prefigured results, and his conscious strivings are letting loose subconscious allies behind the scenes, which in their way work towards rearrangement, and the rearrangement towards which all these deeper forces tend is pretty surely definite, and definitely different from what he consciously conceives and determines. It may consequently be actually interfered with (jammed as it were, like the lost word when we seek too energetically to recall it) by his voluntary efforts slanting from the true direction (1961, p. 167).

The conversion experience is often preceded by a dark period-- "a sense of incompleteness and imperfection; brooding; depression, morbid introspection and sense of sin; anxiety about the here-after; distress over doubts, etc." (James, 1961, p. 167).

The characteristics of this experience as described by James (1961) are:

1) a sense of higher control.
2) a sense of inner certainty-- a "loss of all the worry; the sense that all is ultimately well with one; peace, harmony, a willingness to be, even though the outer world should remain the same" (p. 202).
3) a perception of truths not known before.
4) a changed perception of the objective world-- often visual clarity is sharpened. [22]
5) An "ecstasy of happiness" is felt.

Some of these effects may persist (usually in less intense form) after the initial experience. However, James is quick to point out:

Notoriously there is no such radiance (as to distinguish the 'converted' man from the 'unconverted'). Converted men as a class are indistinguishable from natural men; some natural men even excell some converted men in their fruits (1961, p. 195).

In spite of this statement, James does feel that in some people the conversion experience bears fruit of a positive sort. Some converted people lose desires for drLnk, tobacco, or adultery (some, unfortunately, lose the desire for sex, entirely). James terms the most durable and positive result of the conversion experience, "saintliness" and gives its psychological components:

1) a feeling of being in a wider life than that of this world's selfish little interests; and a conviction . . . of the existence of an Ideal Power.
2) a sense of the friendly continuity of the Ideal Power with our own life, and a willing surrender to its control.
3) an immense elation and freedom, as the outlines of the confined self-hood melt down.
4) a shifting of the enotional centre towards loving and harmonious affections, towards 'yes, yes' and away from 'no' where the claims of the non-ego ane involved (1961, p. 220-221).

James' listing of some of the practical consequences of this state make it obvious that the religious framework provides a meaning-scheme for the "saintly" person. Such [23] consequences are:

1) Ascetism--with offshoots of obedience, chastity and poverty.
2) Strength of soul.
3) Purity--giving up "sins" and "fleshy pleasures."
4) Charity--caring for the poor.

Although James' judgment of the condition of "saintliness" is in general quite favorable, he also notes several dangers or excesses of the state. in the lives of some saints, for example, an extravagance of emotion was apparent, the intellect being too narrow. James feels the lives of other saints had no practical value to other human beings-- especially in those cases in which the person was absorbed in experiencing God's "favors" and secluded himself or herself from the rest of the world. Excesses of purity caused some salnts to go to extreme lengths to avoid temptation-- thus even further removing themselves from the world.

On the other hand, the tenderness and charity exhibited by "saintly" people, James notes, often transforms even unlikely characters for the good and is a creative and useful social force. In addition, the ascetism and poverty of the saint may lead to strengthened character and a lack of such fears as losing money, which, many "lesser" creatures are plagued by.

Another major theorist in the area of personal growth has been Gordon Allport (1958). Besides hls stress on the [24] possibility of a Leibnitzian focus on an active organism, Allport emphasizes the role of motivated striving, above and "instincts" and neurotlc needs-- the dimension of the futurity of men's behavior relatlve to the pursuance of work, values, or ideals outside of themselves. Allport, unllke most modern theorists, stresses the importance of studying and understanding the individual, rather than the statistically "normal" man.

Central to Allport's theory is his notion of the "proprium," defined as "all the regions of our life that we regard as peculiarly ours . . . . The proprium includes all as- pects of personality that make for inward unity" (1958, p. 40). Properties of the proprium include: a bodily sense, self-identity, ego-enhancement,ego-extension (identity with groups, possessions, and ideals), a rational agent (tne "ego"), self-image (including a person's aspirations), propriate striving (persistent striving towards long-range goals regarded as central to one's existence), and a "knower" (or seat of consciousness).

Allport argues that the "demands of our environment cause us to develop numerous systems of behavlor that seem to dwell forever on the periphery of our being . . . . we know that we put on an appearance for the occasion, but we know too that such expression is a masklike expression of our persona and not central to our self-image" (p. 77). A hypothesis arising from this idea is that if the environmental [25] demands upon a person are somehow reduced, perhaps more of his "real" self (in hls own terms) miqht emerge.

A major review of the current concepts of positive mental health was attempted by Jahoda (1958). She classified theoretical attempts to conceptualize positive mental health into six major types of approaches:

1) Emphasis on attitudes toward the self as criteria for mental health. Several aspects of such attitudes are noted:

a) Self-objectification: Both Allport [all references not followed by dates are given in Jahoda (1958)] and Mayman stress self-objectification or the ability to be aware of the self as a major criterion of health. Barron, on the other hand, states that a lack of self-consciousness is more characteristic of health than of pathology. Kubie (with whom Jahoda agrees) reconciles the apparently opposing positions by claiming that health requires not constant self-consciousness but only the accessibility to consciousness of the self when the need arises.

b) Correctness of the self-concept: the lmportance of seeing the self "realistically."

c) Feellngs about the self-concept: the importance of acceptlng the self including one's shortcomings.

d) Sense of identity.

2. Growth, development, and self-actualization as criteria for mental health: Besides Jung, Maslow, and Allport, several other theorists have developed these criteria. Among [26] them are Mayman, who distinguishes healthy people by thelr "investment in living"-- the "range and quality of a person's concern with other people and the things of this world . . . that he considers significant" (Jahoda, 1958, p. 35).

3) Integration as a criterion for mental health: Different aspects of this criterion are stressed by various authors --

a) Balance of psychic forces: Hartmann and Kubie both emphasize the importance of being able to shift back and forth between the Id, Ego, arrd the Superego.

b) Unifying outlook on life ; Allport's "proprium" is certainly relevant here, as is Maslow's finding that self-actualizing people have very definite ethical standards (although these might be quite idlosyncratic)and Erikson's notion of the importance of the acceptance of one's own 1ife cycle.

c) Resistance to stress: The more stress a person can tolerate, accordlng to some authors, the healthier he is.

4) Autonomy as a crlterion for mental health: In thls connection, Maslow stresses that self-actualizers are "not dependent for their main satisfactions on the real world, or other people or culture or . . . in general, on extrinsic satisfaction . . . These people can maintaln a relative serenity and happiness in the midst of circumstances that would drive other people to suicide" (Jahoda, 1958, p. 47). Angyal stresses a balance between two trends: [27] "self-determination," the goal of whlch is "to organize . . . the objects and events of (one's) world, to bring them under his own jurisdiction and government" and "self-surrender," "to become an organic part of something that (one) conceives of as greater than himself" (Jahoda, 1958 p. 48).

5) Perception of reality as a criterion for mental health: Schachtel (1959) discusses the imnportance of developing perception relatively free from need-distortion. Jahoda (1958) maintains that healthy people will be more likely to test reality for its degree of correspondence with their own perceptions, while the less healthy willsimply assume such correspondence. Foote and Cottrell (in Jahoda, 1958) emphasize the ability to empathize wlth others (to perceive reality in the other's terms) as important to mental health.

6) Environmental mastery as a criterion for mental health: included in this criterion are the ability to love another emotionally and sexually (stressed especially by Reich, 1942); adequacy in work and play; adequacy in social relationships; and problem-solvlng ability.

Tomkins (1962) is one of the relatively few theoreticians who has focused on a physiological and psychological description of the positive affects. He postulates two distinct positive affects:

1) Interest-Excitement (the former a low intensity affect; the latter, high intensity): This affect is activated by increasing neural stimulatLon. It is characterized [28] physiologically by a pulling down of the eyebrows and a tracking response involving active looking and listening. Tomkins (1962) notes:

The absence of the affective support of interest would jeopardize intellectual development no less than the destruction of brain tissue. To think, as to engage in any other human activity, one must care, one must be excited, (one) must be continually rewarded (p. 343).

He feels this affect is necessary for both physiological survival and for creative activity.

2) Enjoyment-Joy: This affect is activated by a decreasing gradient of neural activation. It ls characterized physiologically by the smile-- the lips being widened up and out.

Tomkins maintains that the most attractive stimuli:

possess both sufficient novelty and sufficient similarity so that both positive affects are reciprocally activated, interest-excitement by the novel aspects of the stimuli and enjoyment-joy by the recognition of the familiar and the reduction of interest-excitement (1962, p. 213).

Shelly (1969) views satisfaction in terms of reinforcement. Citing Berlyne's studies of reported positive affects associated with the "pleasure centers" of the brain, Shelly conceives of pleasure as a momentary stimulation of these braln centers. He defines "happiness" as the number of satisfactions exceeding the number of dissatisfactions for a particular period of time. One obvious weakness of this [29] definition is the absence of an intenslty factor. Shelly also introduces some specific terminology for the pleasuarable affects, classified according to the duration of the affect:

"pleasure"-- momentary
"satisfaction"-- 5 seconds to one hour
"extended satisfaction"-- one hour +
"happiness"-- one week or longer

Accordlng to this scheme, the term "extended satisfaction" could be appropriate in describing some of the experiences reported in this study and the term 'happiness', some others.

Several theorists, whom I will only briefly mention, have also made contributions to the available fund of theories of postitive being. Robert Neale, a theologian, views optimal human development in terms of a model of play-defined as non-conflicted actions, affects, and cognitions (1969) Martin Buber, a philosopher and theologian, focuses specifically on the potential for positive human interactlon in his work, I and Thou (1958). He states:

No system of ideas, no foreknowledge, and no fancy intervene between I and Thou . . . . No aim, no lust, and no anticipation intervene between I and Thou. Desire itself is transformed as it plunges out of its dream into the appearance. Every means is an obstacle. Only when every means has collapsed does the meeting come about (pp. 11-12).

Flngarette (1963) describes the self in transformation from neurotic er deficiency based actions to the consummatory phase of "mystle selflessness" during which one is able to [30] act appropriately and without internal conflict and especially without hindering self-consciousness.

Before leaving the theoretical section behind, we must briefly consider the role of some specific technical procedures designed to change (over a span of years of practice) the course of the practitioner's life in a more positive direction. (These procedures may also facilitate short-term, intense breakthrough experiences, for example, the satori experience of Zen, which will not be considered here, as earlier explained.) The Eastern tradition (exemplified in Zen Buddhism, Yogi, and in the way of the Sufi) contains a more developed set of such procedures than does the West. Such procedures include various physical posture and movements (the "asanas" of Yogi and the "spinning" of the whirling Dervishes), concentration on breathing (common in some forms of Yogi and Zen), on a visual pattern (especially a "mandala"), or on an impossible riddle (the "Koan" of Zen), on a sound (or "mantra" in Yogi) or on the "void," "nirvana," or "nothingness" (Kapleau, 1965; Ornstein, 1972).

All of these procedures may be subsumed under the category of "meditation" and, various as they seem, they do have something in common.

The common element in these dlverse practices seems to be the active restriction of awareness to one single, unchanging process, and the withdrawal of attention from ordering thought. I does not seem to matter which actual physical process is followed; whether one symbol or another ls employed; whether [31] the visual system is used or body movement repeated . . . (Ornstein, 1972, p. 122).

The aim of these procedures is to stop the normal processes of thought and perception so that another mode of apprehension may come to the surface. This other mode may be seen as more intuitive, more "whole," more of the unhindered senses, more timeless, more receptive (or "feminine") as opposed to that mode of consciousness taken by many as "reality" in the West: the intellectual, the analytic, the verbal, that tied to a linear, sequential view of time, the active (or "masculine") (Jung, 1959; Ornsteln, 1972). Ornstein (1972) relates the former mode to the rlght hemisphere of the brain (whlch controls the left half of the body) and the latter and the left hemisphere (controlling the right half of the body).

Jung writes of the "technical transformation" achieved by the above types of techniques:

The exercises known in the East as Yoga and in the West as "exercitia spiritualia" come into this category. These experiences represent specific techniques prescribed in advance and intended to achieve a definite psychlc effect, of, at least to promote it . . . . They are . . . elaborations of the original natural spontaneous processes of transformation [or "individuation] . . . . The natural or spontaneous transformations that occurred earlier before there were any historical examples to follow, were thus replaced by techniques designed to induce the transformation by imitating this same sequence of events (Jung, 1959a, p. 129).

Another type of technique employed may also be called [32] 'meditation', but it is of an "opening up" type rather than the restriction of awareness type previously mentioned. Kapleau describes the advanced practice of the Sota Sect of Zen:

In Shikan-taza ["just sitting"] the mind must be unhurried yet at the same time firmly planted or massively composed, like Mt. Fuji, let us say. But it also must be alert, stretched, 1Lke a taut bowstring. So shikan-taza is a heightened state of concentrated awareness wherein one is neither tense nor hurried, and certainly never slack. It is the mind of somebody faclng death (1965, p. 53).

In some schools, "opening up" meditation is being unaware of oneself, without judgment or excessive thought, in every situation one finds oneself in. Gurdjieff's students are, for example, constantly reminded to "remember themselves" at all times. Another way of stating this technique is that one is constantly attentive to the happenings in everyday life and tries to minimize intellectualization, abstraction, and value judgments (Ornstein, 1972).

Besides the largely theoretical treatments just dlscussed, there have been a very small number of empirical studies which have some relevance to the positive state of being under investigation in this paper. (Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate a single empirical study in the psychological literature focusing specifically on prolonged positive states.)

Empirical Studies

Most informative and rich among these few studies is Laski's (1951) work on ecstatic experiences. A1though these experiences were almost always quite brief (rarely exceeding [33] 1/2 hour and often momentary) Laski's analysis aids in understanding some of the conditions necessary for, and some of the characteristics of,positive experiences in general. She draws her conclusions from two main sources: 1) responses to a questionnaire concerning personal ecstatic experiences, and 2) an examination of the secular and religious literature on ecstatic experience.

Laski's questionnaire was answered by 58 Ss; both sexes and a wide age range were represented. The actual questions asked were as follows:

1) Do you know a sensation of transcendent ecstasy?
2) How would you describe it?
3) What has induced it in you?
4) How many times in your life have you felt it-- in units, tens, hundreds?
5) What is your religion or faith?
6) Do you know a feeling of creative inspiration?
7) How would you describe it?
8) Does it seem to you to have anything in common with ecstasy?
9) what ls your profession? (Laski, !961, p. 9).

The ecstatic experiences described by Laski's Ss were sometimes characterized by a lack of touch with normal life and with people not experiencing the state, and usually had a noticeable (and often profound) influence on their later life. Some of the more prominent subjective feelings reported were:

feelings of new life, satisfaction joy, salvation, purification, glory; new and/or mystical knowledge;loss of words, images, sense; unity, eternity; heaven; loss of worldliness, sorrow, desire, sin; up-feelings; contact; enlargement or improvement; loss of self; loss of difference, time and place; light [34] and/or heat feelings; peace and calm; ineffability; release (1961, p. 41).

The frequency of such experiences was typically rare: 5O% of the Ss claimed the experience in units, 38% in tens, and only 12% in hundreds or constantly.

Laski lists several stimuli or situations (whlch she calls "anti-triggers") having an inhibiting effect on ecstatic experiences. Among these are:

1) Routines of everyday life; practicality.
2) Thinking or reason.
3) Presence of other people; especially "everyday" people.
4) Commerce (money matters).
5) Distasteful experiences (ugliness, brutality, war).

She also lists several common "triggers"-- stimuli or circumstances that facilitate or allow ecstatic experiences:

1) Nature-- especially mountains and the sea. There were many references among Laski's Ss to "light" (especially moonlight, sunlight, reflections on water, etc.). Morning or night seemed more conducive to ecstatic experiences than was broad daylight.
2) Art, especially music. The only architectural references were to specific cathedrals, to ruins wlth historical connections, or to cities if seen as "ideal"cities (London, Venice, etc.)
3) Religion. [35]
4) Intimate conversation or contact.
5) Exercise or movement-- either regular, rhythmical movement (running, horseback riding) or swift movement (skiing, flying).
6) Knowledge-- especially scientific or poetic.
7) Creative work-- To Laski's Ss, "inspiration" and "ecstasy" were often inseparable.
8) Recollection of previous experiences.
9) Sexual love.
10) Childbirth (for women only).
11) Food-- especially sweet food.

Laski categorized the ecstatic experiences reported by her Ss and in the literature according to the following schema (experienced as progressively "better" by the Ss):

1) Adamic ecstasies-- "feelings that life ls joyful, purified, renewed" (1961, p. 92).
2) Knowledge ecstasies-- feellngs of knowledge being gained.
2a) Knowledge contact ecstasies-- if the knowledge is gained through a feellng of contact with some force outside oneself. Contact ecstasies often involve a loss of self.
3) Union ecstasies-- "At the stage regarded as the best, ecstasies may involve complete or almost complete loss of sensibility, coupled wlth a feeling (necessarily afterwards) that any contact made has been complete" (p, 92).

Laskl (1961) also mentioned, unfortunately only briefly, [36] some states of longer duration and involving less separation from normal reality. These she terms, "unitive states" and characterizes them as including "loss of feelings of self, of worldliness, of time, gain of feelings of new life, joy, knowledge" (1961, p. 65). She states, "An enhancement of well-being, both mental and physical, is usual in unitive states" (1961, p. 87). These states are occasioned by such activities as creative work, holidays, love, and childbirth, among others. In terms of classifying such experiences, Laski states,

People do not compare unitive states one with the other, so it is not possible to say whether any differences are, as with momentary ecstasies, regarded as corresponding with different degrees of value (p. 95).

Finally, Laski (1961) states what must be a focal point of the present study:

It is possible that both ecstasies and unitive states represent only unusually intense varieties of experience and states inseparable from being healthily alLve and human (p. 101).

Ricks and Wessman (in Southwell and Merbaum, 1971) pre- sent a case study of "Winn-- a happy man." Unfortunately, this small study is so bland it almost suggests "happiness" is a synonym for "dullness." The report is the result of a three-year study of Winn during his undergraduate years at Harvard. It utilizes the results of interview material and [37] test material (TAT, Rorschach, MMPI, Mood Adjective Check List).

Winn comes from a comfortable, warm, accepting, respected family and was "gifted in face, form, intellect, health, and talent" (1971, p. 244). He was unusually self-confident and optimistic compared to other men his age: "The major contrast in Winn's emotional life contrasted zestful, extremely happy days with somewhat less happy ones." Unfortunately we get very llttle insight as to the individual phenomenology of Winn's happiness other than the fact that it ususally included considerable consciousness of food. Besides this we have the informatlon that:

Energy, harmony and sociability with others, receptivity toward the world, and loving tenderness, together with feelings of approval by the community, were the main components of Winn's happiest moods (1971, p. 242).

If nothing else, this study reinforces the need for further study of the positive emotions and states of being if we are ever to overcome the simplistic, bland, generalized descrLptions usually given of such states.

Shelly (1969b) performed a factor analytic study (using the results of a questionnaire administered to 100 undergraduate psychology majors) of the "most pleasant situation" during both the day and the evening. (This author's use of the term "pleasant" covers a wide range of intensity: from mildly pleasant to happy, joyful, or even ecstatic.) [38]

He concludes:

It appears as though the evening ls a particularly important time in determining the individual's happiness. We might say that if the indlvidual cannot find satisfaction during his evenings when he is relatively free from constraints, then he might have a hard time finding satisfactions in other areas (p. 366).

A peak happy experience seems to depend upon friends and the ability to obtain excitement (p. 369).

Shelly and Adelburg (1969a) performed an empirical analysis of pleasant and unpleasant situations for a group of 75 urban youths. A comparison of the pleasant and unpleasant situations reveals the following:

Environment Behavior Feelings Pleasant Much to do Many friends Much activity, excitment Did a 1ot Talked a Lot Moved around a lot Wanted to stay a long time Was what he wanted to be Everyone likes him Unpleasant Little to do Few friends Little activity, excitement Went alone Felt badly on leaving

Of special interest is the fact that loneliness often preceded the most pleasant situation.

Shelly and Adelburg (1969a) justified their study by stating: [39]

A knowledge of what types of situations are plea- sant may help community leaders create more of this type of situation and thereby possibly improve the well-being of the members of the conmunity (p. 268).

Another study performed by the same researchers (Shelly and Adelburg, 1969b) presented an analysis of "satisfactLon sites" (places where people congregate to obtain pleasure or satisfaction or to relax) in Jamaica. Their main conclusion was that people find most rewarding (gauged by the amount of time spent in the absence of constraining factors) places at the extremes of arousal: either highly exciting or highly relaxing places.

A final empirical study of positive feeling states was undertaken by Bradburn and Caplovitz (1965). They analyzed the responses of 2000 men (between the ages of 25 and 49 living in four communities varying in degree of economic prosperity) to a questionnaire. Their main conclusions were:

Happiness is positively correlated wlth education level and income.
Happiness is negatively corrolated with age.
Happiness is uncorrelated with sex.
Unmarried men are less happy than married men.

They also found that:

positive and negative feelings are independent dimensions of such a nature that knowing a person's level of one type of feeling w111 not enable us to predict his level of the other (p. 24).[40]

(Positive and negative feelings were each found to correlate with happiness but were found to be uncorrelated with each other.) Bradburn and Captovitz state,

The independence of these two dlmensions suggests a radical departure from usual notions about psychological well-being because it means that it is quite possible for a person to report being, for example, "very depressed" and still describe himself as "very happy." Such a report would be perfectly logical if the experience of negatlve feelings were offset by the experience of several positive feelings (1965, p. 20).

In this view, happiness is the result of the relative strengths of positive and negative feelings, rather than of an absolute amount of either one.

A drawback to all of these studies (except Laski's and, in some ways, that of Ricks and Wessman), is the reduction of individual material to normative data for groups as a whole. Most of the richness and depth of the individual experiences is thereby lost.

Fortunately, in addition to the theoretical and empirical studies, there exist several personalized accounts of prolonged positive experiences. In these we may recover some of the depth lost in the more normative works.

Firsthand Accounts of Prolonged Positive Experiences

William James provides a lucid description of a prolonged and exceptionally positive state:[41]

From the instant I realized that these cancer spots of worry and anger were removable, they left me.With the discovery of their weakness they were exorcised. From that time life has had an entirely different aspect.

. . . As the usual occasions for worry and anger have presented themselves over and over again, and I have been unable to feel them in the slightest degree, I no longer dread or guard against them, and I am amazed at my increased energy and vigor of mind; at my strength to meet situations of all kinds, and at my disposition to love and appreciate everything.

. . . All at once the whole world has turned good to me. I have become, as it were, sensitive only to the rays of good.

. . . There is no doubt ln my mind that pure Christianity and pure Buddhism, and The Mental sciences and all religions, fundamentally teach what has been a discovery to me; but none of them have presented it in the light of a simple and easy process of elimination. . . . I feel such an increased desire to do something useful that it seems as if I were a boy again and the energy for play had returned . . . I notice the absence of timidity in the presence of any audience . . . . lightning and thunder have been encountered under conditions which would have formerly caused great depression and discomfort, without [my] experiencing a trace of either. Surprise is also greatly modified, and one is less liable to become startled by unexpected sights or noises.

. . . I note a marked improvement in the way my stomach does its duty in assimilating the food I give it to handle . . . . I [am not] wasting any of this precious time formulatlng an idea of a future existence or a future Heaven. The Heaven that I have within myself is as attractive as any that has been promised or that I can imagine; and I am willing to let the growth lead where it will . . . (James, 1961, pp. 154-156).

Kapleau in The Three Pillars of Zen provides an account written by a Canadian housewife of an experience which began six years after her first experience of "satori:"[42]

One spring day as I was working in the garden the air seemed to shiver in a strange way, as though the usual sequence of time had opened into a new dimension, and I became aware that something untoward was about to happen, if not that day, then soon. Hoping to prepare in some way for it, I doubled my regular sittings of zazen and studied Buddhist books late into each night.

A few evenings 1ater, after carefully sifting through the Tibetan Book of the Dead and then taking my bath, I sat in front of a painting of the Buddha and listened quietly by candlelight to the slow movement of Beethoven's A Minor Quartet, a deep expression of man's self-renunciation, and then went to bed. The next morning, just after breakfast, I suddenly felt as though I were being struck by a bolt of lightning, and I began to tremble. All at once the whole trauma of my difficult birth flashed into my mind. Like a key, this opened dark rooms of secret resentments and hidden fears, which flowed out of me like poisons. Tears gushed out and so weakened me I had to lie down. Yet a deep happiness was there . . . . Slowly my focus changed: "I'm dead! There's nothing to call me! There never was a me! It's an allegory, a mental image, a pattern upon which nothing was ever modeled." I grew dizzy with delight. Solid objects appeared as shadows, and everything my eyes fell upon was radiantly beautifu1.

These words can only hint at what was vividly revealed to me in the days that followed:

1) The world as apprehended by the senses is the least true (in the sense of complete), the least dynamic (in the sense of the eternal movement), and the least important in a vast "geometry of existence" of unspeakable profundity, whose rate of vibration, whose intensity and subtlety are beyond verbal description.

2) Words are cumbersome and promitive-- almost useless in trylng to suggest the true multi-dimensional workings of an indescribably vast complex of dynamic force, to contact which one must abandon one's normal level of consciousness.

3) The least act, such as eating or scratching an arm, is not at all simple. It is merely a visible moment in a network of causes and effects reaching [43] forward into Unknowingness and back into an infinity of silence, where individual consciousness cannot even enter. There is truly nothing to know; nothing that can be known.

4) The physical world ls an infinity of movement, of Time-Existence. But simultaneously it is an infinity of Silence and Voidness. Each object is thus transparent. Everything has its own special inner character, its own karma or "life in time," but at the same time there is no place were there is emptiness, where one object does not flow into another.

5) The least expression of weather variation, a soft raln or a gentle breeze, touches me as a-- what can I say?-- miracle of unmatched wonder, beauty, and goodness. There is nothing to do: just to be is a supremely total act.

6) Looking into faces, I see something of the long chain of their past existence, and sometimes something of the future. The past ones recede behind the outer face like ever-finer tissues, yet are at the same time impregnated in it.

7) When I am in solitude I can hear a "song" coming forth from everything. Each and every thing has its own song; even moods, thoughts, and feelings have their finer songs. Yet beneath this variety they intermingle in one inexressibly vast unity.

8) I feel a love which, without object, is best called lovingness. But my old emotional reactions still coarsely interfere with the expressions of thls supremely gentle and effortless lovingness.

9) I feel a consciousness which is neither myself nor not myself, which is protecting or leading me into directions helpful to my proper growth and maturity, and propelling me away from that which is against that growth. It ls like a stream into which I have flowed and, joyously, is carrying me beyond myself.

Another account contained in Kapleau's book was written by a Japanese executive, also the result of a satori experience:[44]

I am at peace at peace at peace . . . . This freedom is extraordinary.

Surely the world has changed [with enlightenment]. But in what way?

The ancients said the enlightened mind is comparable to a fish swimming. That's exactly how it is-- there's no stagnation. I feel no hindrance. Everything flows smoothly, freely. Everything goes naturally. This limitless freedom is beyond all expression. What a wonderful world!

I am grateful, so grateful.

Gissing (in Laski, 1961, p. 64) provides an example of an indigent young man forced by circumstances to spend a prolonged period (5 years) in London:

When my health had begun to suffer from excesses of toil, from bad air, bad food, and many miseries, then awoke the maddening desire for countryside and seabeach . . . . On an irresitible impulse, I suddenly made up my mind to go into Devon, a part of England I had never seen. At the end of March I escaped from my grim lodgings, and, before I had time to reflect on the details of my undertaklng, I found myself sitting in sunshine . . .

I had stepped into a new life. Between the man I had been and that which I now became there was a very noticeable difference . . . . I suddenly entered into conscious enjoyment of powers and sensibilities which had been developing unknown to me. To instance only one point: till then I cared very little about plants and flowers, but now I found myself interested in every blossom, in every growth of the wayside . . . . To me the flowers became symbolical of a great release, of a wonderful awakenlng . . . . so intense, was my delight in the beautiful world about me that I forgot even myself; I enjoyed without retrospect and forecast; I, the egoist in grain, forgot to scrutinize my own emotions, or to trouble my happiness with other's happier fortune. ft was a healthful time; it gave me a new lease of life, and taught me-- in so far as I was teachable-- how to make use of it.[45]

Laski terms this a "unitive state."

Another example is Benjamin Haydon's account of a period of inspiration (in Laski, 1961, pp. 87-88)-- also a unitive state in Laski's terms:

This week has really been a week of great delight. Never have I had such irresistible, perpetual, continual urgings of future greatness . . . . While I was painting or walking or thinking, these beaming flashes of energy followed and impressed me! . . . They came over me and shot across me, and shook me, and inspire me to such a degree of intensity, that I lifted up my heart and thanked God.

A quite remarkable first-hand account of his experiences has written by Carlos Castaneda (1968, !971, 1973), then a graduate student in anthropology at UCLA. Many of Castaneda's experiences bear similarity to some of the experiences reported in this study, and several of the informants used concepts derlved from reading his books to help them understand their own experiences.

Castaneda had gone to the South-West to gather information on medicinal and psychotropic plants used by the Indians there. In a bus depot he chanced to meet an old Indian-- Don Juan Matus-- one of the last living practitioners of the art of Yaqui sorcery. Castaneda began to meet with Don Juan to learn about the plants-- Don Juan had other ideas. He tricked Castaneda into becoming an apprentice by telling him a sorceress was after his (Don Juan's) life and asking him for help. The apprenticeship lasted over ten years.

Several of the concepts used by Don Juan are relevant to [46] the present study- Don Juan employed several psychotropic drugs (lncluding peyote and mescaline) to begln to "break down" Castaneda's normal way of viewing reality. Initially using the drugs, and later through voluntary shifts of consciousness, Castaneda was able to perceive "a separate reality"-- reality dense with what some might call "paranormal phenomena:" people able to transport themselves over vast distances without any mechanical means; reliving in vivid detail of 'past' occurrences in one's life; one sorcerer's ablllty to put his body into "physlcally impossible positions (defylng the laws of physics, gravity, etc.); sudden appearances of persons in the vlew of a landscape, defying all known laws of perceptlon, reality, etc; the disappearance and reappearance of large objects, like a car.

Don Juan continually stressed to Castaneda the importance of "stopplng the world"-- by which he meant Castaneda's usual perception of it and of "seeing" (Don Juan put an unusual inflection on this word when he said it). "Seeing" allowed one to apprehend other realities. Don Juan also used another concept-- "not doing"-- by which he meant to not act automatically as one is used to-- not only in physical actions but in. perceivlng. To "not do" a certain person, for example, is to reject the normal perceptual, description of that person as the only possible one. "Not doing" also applies to oneself. One time, Don Juan told Castaneda to apply the exact opposite description of himself in every situation for [47] several days, Castaneda found that this description fit himself just as well as his previous self-image. The value in all of these exercises was that Castaneda began to learn to control hls perception of reality, once he learned "reality" was not an absolute.

Don Juan also stated that to attain "knowledge" (which was one aim of Castaneda's apprenticeship) one had to be a "warrior." He told Castaneda:

Only as a warrlor can one survive the path of knowledge. Because the art of a warrior is to balance the terror of being a man with the wonder of being a man (Wallace, !973, p. 140).

One could choose to follow many paths in life but Castaneda was advised to choose "the path with heart"-- that path most suited to his true destiny. On that path one would ultimately have to confront the fact of his own death-- a confrontation which gives a sharpness and clarity to living not possible otherwise.[48]

CHAPTER III RATIONALE AND METHOD FOR A QUALITATIVE STUDY OF PROLONGED POSITIVE STATES OF BEING

The necessity for studies such as this seems to me to be almost self-evident. There is incredibly little information about the actual experiences of people in the very positive ranges of human experience. Barton goes so far as to say,

The phenomenon of a superstate of good mental health, well above and beyond the mere absence of disabling illness, has yet to be scientifically demonstrated. We know little of it beyond occasional subjective, euphoric impressions of the subject that he is 'bursting with good health', 'feeling grand', or that 'all is right with the world', meaning his world (in Jahoda, 1958, p. 113).

Because of the lack of such studies, our theories about human personality are bound to be biased in the negative direction. Allport (1955) states,

Some theories of becoming are based largely upon the behavior of sick and anxious people or upon the antics of captive and desperate rats. Fewer theories have derived from the study of healthy human beings, those who strive not so much to preserve life as to make it worth living (p. 18).

Recent empirical findings have also made obvious the need for research into positive states of being. Bradburn and Caplovitz (1965) argue,

In view of our finding that (there are) two independent dimensions (a positive and a negative [49] feeling factor), each of which is correlated with different aspects of a person's life, it is apparent that greater attention will have to be paid to those forces producing positive satisfactions before we can fully understand what determines a person's well-being (p. 49).

Finally, several daring theorists and investigators are suggesting that psychology as a science cannot ignore the issue of human values and, in fact, cannot remain a value-free science. It must te1l us something of practical value in attaining a better life. Maslow (1962) states:

So far as human value theory is concerned, no theory will be adequate that rests simply on the statistical description of the choices of unselected human beings. To average the choices of good and bad choosers, of healthy and sick people is useless. Only the choices and tastes and judgments of healthy human belngs will tell us much about what is good for the human species in the long run (p. 143).

Many theorists (Allport; 1955; Krutch, in Allport, 1955; Jahoda, 1958; Maslow, 1962; Bradburn and Caplovitz, 1955, among others) agree that the most prevalent methods available to psychologists-- those of sampling, of questionnaires, of the experimental manipulation in the laboratory of one or two variables, and the subsequent statistical analysis of variance or correlation between the variables-- are simply inadequate for the study of more complex human phenomena. Allport, for example, state,

our methods, however well suited to the study of sensory processes, animal research, and pathology, are not fully adequate; and interpretations [50] arising from the exclusive use of these methods is stultifying (1955, p. 1B).

Fortunately, there does exist a small tradition in psychology of qualitative, or unstructured, research methods. Such methods have been more often used in sociology and anthropology, but the need for them in the field of psychology is rapidly becoming apparent.

Lofland (1971) distinguished between the two basic types of research: qualitative research is more suited to describe the characteristics and variations of a particular social phenomenon; quantitative research is better suited to discover causes and effects of particular phenomena or variables. Dean, Eichhorn, and Dean (in McCall and Simmons, 1969) characterize qualitative research as: 1) being non-standardized in its methodology, and 2) relying on the use of the relationship between investigator and informant for the elicitatlon of information. They glve several instances where qualitative research is called for: where the relationships to be examined are not obvious or explicit; where the phenomenon is in the early or exploratory stages of research; or where detailed case-history material is desired. All, of these characteristics apply to prolonged positive states.

Dean et al. (in McCall and Simmons, 1969) note some of the advantages of qualitative research:

1) One can reformulate the problem at any stage in the investigation. [51]

2) The impressions of the fleld worker are generally more reliable for classifying people than are the rigid (often either/or) systems usually employed in questionnaires.

3) The field worker ls usually ln a better position to impute the motives of his informants (he has a rich store of verbal and non-verbal material to draw from).

4) "The field worker can select later informants in such a way as to throw light on emerging hypotheses."

5) Depth material is usually more accessible to the non-structured researcher than it is to the survey or laboratory researcher.

6) It is easier in qualitative research to take advantage of informants' particular skills or talents.

7) The qualitative researcher can more easily move back and forth between data gathering and analysis (or theory-building).

8) "Difficult to quantify variables are probably less distorted by unstructured observation and interviewing than by an abortive attempt to operationalize them for quantification by survey. There is no magic in numbers; lmproperly used they confuse rather than clarify" (pp. 22-23).

(These authors also note two disadvantages of qualitative methods; 1) the possibility of blas due to the more personal nature of the relationships established, and 2) the limitations of statistical treatment of the data due to the non-standardized method of collection.)[52]

Method of the Present Study

In view of such considerations, I decided to undertake a qualitative study of positive states of being, using a combination of unstructured and structured interview techniques with people who had experienced such states.

The first task was to somehow define what I meant by a prolonged positive state of being while making sure the definition was not so narrow as to exclude relevant experiences. The description I finally decided upon was the followlng:

a prolonged experience (of at least several days duration but possibly much longer) during which the person felt fully alive, fully healthy, functioning to the utmost of his/her capabilities, and with an absence, or minimum, of conflicts.

After writing down a description of my own experience (contained in the introduction), I attempted to define some of the most crucial characteristics or issues for myself. Some of these I "tested" in an informal way by talking to a few people I knew who seemed to have had similar experiences. I wrote a summary of these characteristics which I kept in mind as I talked to each prospective informant (I use this term in place of the traditional "subjects" because the people in the study were more real to me than the use of the term "subjects" would suggest). It read as follows:

1) subjective feelings of peace and calmness, excitement and happiness dominate. Feelings of all types are intense but not conflicted. Boredom is [53] absent.

2) Behavior is more spontaneous less restricted by social conventions, ideas of propriety, or internal fears or inhibitions, and seems to be almost effortlessly 'correct' (in the sense of being appropriate to the situation at hand). Relationships with others are more open, honest, and almost effortless. New relationships may develop very rapidly and intensely.

3) Thoughts are clearer than usual and not conflicted-- they f1ow effortlessly and easily.

4) The outstanding characteristic of this time is that some aspects of being which are normally separate and/or conflicted are, for at least part of the time, somehow unified. Some possible new unifications are:

a) Thoughts and feelings are united in close harmony.
b) Desires tend to coincide with values.
c) Behaviors that are good for oneself seem to be good for others also (obliteration of the difference between selfish and altruistic behaviors).
d) There is no split between the mind and the body.
e) The boundary between work and play is abolished.
f) The dichotomy between the self and the outside world is diminished or abolished.
g) Actions feel both free and determined at the same tlme; i.e. there is a very clear "inner voice"-- although one feels free to obey or to disobey the dictates of this volce, one always or nearly always obeys it wi1lingly. (It may be that some of these "unifications" are present during this perlod and others are not.

The next consideration was finding people who had experienced a "prolonged positlve state" according to my definitlon. I started by asking some of the people I know (especially the 'healthier ones') if they had had such an experience or if they knew of anyone who mlght have. In thls way, I quickly gathered a list of about [54] eight names. I began contacting these people by telephone-- introducing myself, telling them who referred them to me, and briefly describing the study. If they were still interested at this point (the overwhelming majority were), I asked them the following question:

Have you ever had a prolonged experience (for at least several days duration but possibly much longer) during which you felt fully alive, fully healthy, functioning to the utmost of your capabilities, and with an absence, or minimum, of conflicts?

In response to this question, some people drew a total blank. One person told me, "No experience like that comes to mind;" another stated categorlcally, "I've never felt that way;" another said bluntly, "Anyone who says they've had an experience like that is viewing the past through rose-colored glasses." One person said cryptically, "It doesn't sound familiar and I don't wish to discuss such personal things."

Some people were just not sure if they had ever had such an experience.

Almost half of the people who were referred by others and whom I was able to contact (I also asked each person I interviewed for a list of possible informants) replied affirmatively to the question. The question seemed to trigger in the minds of these people an immediate or almost immediate memory of a period (or periods) in their life.

I then asked the person to describe briefly the experience he or she was thinking of. In a few cases where more [55] than one experience came to mind, it took a few minutes for the person to decide which experience stood out most clearly in his or her mind. I wished to know the duration of this experience, some idea of what the person was doing, and how the person was feeling. In individual cases, I asked other specific questlons to get some assessment of whether the experience the person was talking about fit my criterion of a "prolonged positive experience."

Somewhat surprisingly, every person that replied with a definite affirmatlve to my question consented to be interviewed and, even more surprising, all of these experiences seemed relevant to the present study.

Over the course of approximately two months, I interviewed 11 people-- seven women and four men, ranging in age from around 20 to over 40. Occupations included: two teachers (one also a writer, the other also with experience as a psychotherapist); a lawyer; a gestalt therapist; a presently unemployed person who previously worked as a researcher; the manager of a clothing store; a secretary; an occupational therapist; a house-painter, a movement therapist, and an unemployed student. Due to the starting point for my contacts (the Psychology Department of the University of Massachusetts) the interview population is well represented in the "healing" professions. Four of the informants are presently working on or planning to work on advanced degrees in this or other universities. Two of these informants are married (another [56] was to be married two weeks after the interview), two are presently divorced, four are unmarried but living with someone (or about to live with someone in one case), three are unmarried and living alone.

The interview procedure turned out to be a fascinating and rewarding experience for myself and, in just about every case, for the other person as we11. The interviews were long but usually so enjoyable and exciting, time was forgotten. People who had originally said they could talk for only an hour or so ended up talking with me for five or six hours. Many of the positive subjective feelings talked about in the interviews returned with unusual force during the interview, itself. In most cases, an unusually high degree of trust and acceptance was present. Although this was true for both men and woman, in general, lt seemed more true for the women.

I started each interview by asking the person to describe the experience we had talked about over the phone in as much or as little detail as he or she wished. Several people were a little uneasy about having the session taped from the beginning because of ine difficulty they felt they would have in verbalizing their experiences. In some of the first interviews, I was more prone to give in to this request. In later interviews, I suggested that we try taping the session and if it became too anxiety-provoking I would turn the tape-recorder off. This latter procedure worked well in those few instances of nervousness. For the most part, people didn't [57] seem to mind the recording equipment, especially once we got into the actual interview.

After the spontaneous material "dried up" (which might be after twenty minutes in one case or after three hours in another), I asked the informant a list of questions. I was interested in the answers to these questLons, of course, but the list was also used to trigger off other memories of the experience which had been forgotten. In the middle of telling me about feelings during the experience, a person might suddenly remember some sensory phenomena not previously remembered. Thus, except for unusual cases of very long digressions (which were rare), I followed the person's response to these questions even if it was more relevant to another question. The interview then achieved somewhat of a synthesis between structured and non-structured techniques. The questions asked were as follows:

1) How long ago did thls experience occur?

2) How long dld it last?

3) Where did it occur?

4) What were you doing during this tlme?

5) What were your relationships llke during this period?

6) What were your feelings ltke?

7) What were your thoughts llke?

8) What was your behavior like? Was it different from usual?

9) Were your senses affected? If so, in what way?[58]

10) Was there any change in the sense of significance or meaning? Was there any change in the sense of reality?

11) Was your sense of time affected?

12) Were any af the following unifications of opposites experienced?:

a) Self/Other
b) Outer/Inner
c) Subjective/Objective
d) Feelings/Thoughts
e) Masculine/Femlnine
f) Desires/Values
g) Selfishness/Se1flessness
h) Actions Free/Determined
i) Consclous/Unconscious

13) What preceded the experience? What marked the actual onset of tbe experience?

14) How did the experience end? (assuming it was over at the time of the interview).

15) How was this experience integrated into your "normal" life? What were the lasting results?

16) Did you ever have any similar experiences?

17) Were there any religious or philosophical implications of this experience?

18) Did your outlook on life change?

19) Did the experience affect previous relationships?

The duration of the interviews ranged from a low of an hour and a half to over nine hours-- the average being almost five hours. The total lnterviewing time was just under fifty hours-- about thirty of which were taped. (Besides the necessity for making the person feel comfortable before taping in [59] a few of the early sessions, I also turned the recorder off if a long personal discussion between myself and the informant occurred which was essentially unrelated to hls or her experience. Also, in the last interview, the tape-recorder malfunctioned-- and I recorded only half an hour of a three hour interview. Fortunately, the malfunctlon was obvious and I took notes.)

The tape-recordings of the interviews were transcribed essentially verbatim except for long, abstract digressions, personal stories or asides obviously unrelated to the experience belng discussed, or long monologues that I occasionally engaged in. (These tended to become more moderate as the study progressed.) This procedure yielded almost 400 pages of transcripts.

I then perfomed a type of rudimentary analysis on this material in order to be able to view it a different way. Using each of the questions presented to the informants as a base, I listed each statement, phrase, paragraph or longer sequence of each informant under each category to which the material seemed applicable. Whlle engaged in this process I became aware of other possible "categorizations" that would help me see some patterns in these experiences: among these were such things as mention of an "inner voice" (or "intuition," "instinct," "inner sense," etc.), some physical gestures that were common in describing quite a few experiences, references to weather, the need for a teacher or spiritual [60] guide, the importance of some dreams, the idea of personal "power" experienced in these states, and, especially the occurrence of some paranormal phenomena (ESP, premonitions, etc.). In each of these categories, statements made by any informant relevant to that category were also grouped together.

In the next section, we will examined the results of all thls interviewing, transcribing, analysis, and thinking.

CHAPTER IV FINDINGS OF THE STUDY: INDIVIDUAL EXPERIENCES

[61] Let me state at the beginning that I don't believe I can "explain" these experiences or even attempt to understand them fully.

Jung said of the development of personality in which these experiences play a part: "There is always something irrational to be added, something that simply cannot be explained." (1954, p. 182).

Besides the reduction to logical processes which the world "explanatlon" usually connotes, there is usually an as- sumption of another reduction when this word is used-- the assumptlon of a general law or applicability of the findings true for all members of some given population. The individuality of these experiences does not allow such an assumption.

Franz (in Jung, 1964) stated:

Each of us has a unique task of self-realization . . . . It is difficult to summarize the infinite variations of the process of individuation. The fact is that each person has to do something different, something that is uniquely his own (p. 169).

William James, writing of religious experiences, put it:

Our explanations get so vague and general that one realizes all the more the intense individuality of the whole phenonenon (1967, p. 175). [62] In spite of these cautions, some common elements have, of course, emerged.

I will treat the material gathered in the interviews in two ways: first, as intensely individual accounts of very personal experiences (in this chapter, I will provide case studies of each of the 77 experiences), and second, as experiences which may be compared and contrasted in various dimensions (in the next chapter, I will discuss findings gathered fron all the interviews under such headings as "thoughts," "feelings," "senses," etc.). In these two chapters, my major purpose will be to try to describe these experiences in as much richness as possible.

In the case histories which follow, I have attempted to summarize and make more concise much of the material which the person being interviewed felt was important. I have also tried to include material which would answer most of the questions raised in the interview.

The first of the 11 case-histories includes a minimum of "narration" and is, in fact, largely conposed of edited and rearranged transcript material. Obviously, this method of presentation is somewhat longer than a more concise "narrated" version but I felt it was important to provide one example in all its richness and this particular informant is especially fluent and precise. The next 10 case-histories are written more concisely and use a great deal less quotation material. In all of these accounts, I have attenpted to keep my [63] interpretations and value judgments to a minimum (these I will save for the following chapters).

Abbreviations used include the following:
( ) = paraphrase of informants' own words
[ ] = "narration" of events, exploration, etc. by the author
[Names, locations, occupations and some dates have been altered to protect the identity of the informants. No other details have been changed.]

Angela Rimbaud

[64] Angela Rimbaud is 43 years old, married, and a devout Catholic. She teaches French at a local University.

During the course of some 9 hours of interviews, Angela related four distinct positive experiences. The first of these was a "peak experience" lasting 15 to 20 minutes which occurred when she was 17 and was driving wlth her boyfriend on a road south of San Francisco. As they came over a hill, the sight of a beautiful valley triggered a deep feeling of calmness and peace which had been unknown to her previously.

The second experience occurred when she was 21. She spent three days in New York City with a man with whom she felt very much ln love but who was married. She knew the three days would be all that they would have together since he was returning to California and his wlfe. She experienced during that time a feellng of extremely intense happiness to an extent previously unknown to her.

The third experience occured five years ago and involved a love relationship with R., a celibate Jesuit monk. Angela was married at the time. R. stayed wlth Angela and her husband for over a week. There was never any type of physlcal contact between R. and Angela.

One thing he said was that there was a deeper contact than the touch of hands and he was looking into my eyes when he said that. I've never been touched physically by anyone so deeply. And then he sald there's a deeper contact than the contact of eyes. [65] Around this time she converted to the Catholic faith.

The fourth experience was the one we actually focused on. This was the most recent and the most all-inclusive. The experience began in July, 1973, at a monastery ln Maine, to which Angela goes for a retreat for four days every two months. She had made a request during prayer: 'Let me be able to feel love for people I am unable to feel love for now.'

(What happened) was so dramatic and it was clearly in answer to (my) specific request.

She "fell in love" wlth a woman whom she couldn't have imagined she could even like-- much less love-- because of very great differences in their personalities. Angela is introspective, quiet, a very "private" person. Her new friend (K.) was loud, boisterous, exuberant, a "life of the party" type. And yet in a brief period of time a very deep bond of affection developed. Although they don't see each other very often now, their friendship is still very close.

When I asked her: about the duration of this experience, Angela surprised me by responding,

I think it's sti1l going on. Obviousy there are lots of variations and ups and downs and changes. What is going on has transcended my relationship with K.

She characterized the total 10-month experience by saying, [66]

It kind of surprises me-- the kind of organic growth that is taking place during this process. What expectations I had-- they were few-- haven't materialized.

Each time Angela went to the monastery on retreat (six times since last July), something was 'given' to her which she felt compelled to work on during the months before the next retreat. Sometimes what was given to her was a conflict to be resolved, a question to be answered, or a feeling to understand. She is unable to find a pattern in this process.

Every time I try to find a pattern it gets broken. I have to not program it.

The experience at the monastery is often quite intense.

The monastery is a place set apart . . . . There's a tremendous amount of power there. I can stop responding in computer ways and be open in a way that's hard for me when I'm expected to be active and to do things . . . . It's easier to be in the flow when I'm concentrated and passive-- as opposed to doing things that take a lot of superficial activity. (Outside the monastery) I feel (the flow) most of all when I'm (doing yoga). Then I'm closer to that other reality. (In Sunday school class I teach composed of ten 11-year-olds, it's more difficult.) I think I'm trying too hard to keep ahead of the situation. It's too active . . . . It's hard for me to 'be' for more than one or two people. I'm very drawn out to the periphery by the presence of other people. I can do it when I get away from other people and be by myself. But then when there are people who distract me, the vibrations are hard to deal with . . . . It's complicated getting un-programmed.

Leaving (the monastery) is always a shock . . . because I always expect that it will (carry over, but it doesn't). I really (feel) tne shock or the different worlds [Monastery and 'everyday']. It doesn't [67] seem to me that they ought to be so different. Usually the initial plunge brings me down to ordinary reality. (Since July) it's all been one experience, but within that experience it often drops down to ordinary reality.

Outlook on life: One of the most striking changes brought about by Angela's experience is a change in her way of looking at her life.

A major difference is an ability to trust what's happening rather than feeling that I have to be in control of what's happening.

She is more able than before to hear the inner voice of her 'true self' which she calls "Christ."

"It's the same thlng. Christ is the true self."

Another change is towards an effortlessness and non-conflictedness of action which Angela characterizes as "not doing."

All I have to do is not to do anything. Let it grow the way it wants to grow, not lay my expectations or desires on things. The thing that grows is always infinitely nlcer than what I could imagine. It's not just a static remaining in what happens on the retreat. If I'm hanging on to yesterday's situation I won't be open to today's situation. The struggle is always not to hang on to yesterday's good thing in order that today's good thing, which is unknown to me, which I can't predict, can come. It's so much more than anything I could imagine.

Not doing is very active. That's a lot of what I've been working on. Not doing something that's socially acceptable but that I'm not into. Not doing something that doesn't come from the center.

[68] I thlnk it's much more important for me to be true than it is for me to be polite. In terms of values, the truth is way on top.

The point of the whole experience is for Christ to live in me even though that's very very hard for me to do. At the end of this (process) . . . somehow, somewhere . . . is the goal of the mystlcs-- a kind of Union with God which I haven't any real idea of.

Changes in the senses and in the sense of significance or meaning:

Things have become much, much more significant. The physical reality of things, the physical reality of words, the physical reality of gestures-- (all are) much deeper. I don't know how I could describe that. (At the monastery) I eat very simple things and I enjoy it but I don't glutonize the way I do when I really get into eating. Perhaps (I'm a little more conscious of the taste), but not a great deal. I think I'm more conscious of appreciation. Appreciating it and using it in a kind of ascetic way.

There is a difference between the'heightening of sensation' (of this state) and normal non-perception, normal non-attentiveness. Maybe it's just a heightened attentiveness that makes it possible for me to be open more. Time is very slowed down. I don't think I'm open to the kinds of things that one would be open to on a drug trip-- for instance, colors and Nature and that kind of thing. I don't think it's that I'm indifferent to the natural surroundings, but they don't demand my attention a great deal. What does demand my attention is the church-- the physlcal building, the interior, the crucifix, the altar, the vessels, and the priests and their 'dancing', which is very beautiful. When they move around the altar to incense the altar it's a very beautiful dance. The stained glass windows are a very deep blue. I don't think these things are heightened and brightened the way I think you mean but they have an immense sigificance.

[Words]: To be really open is to let words come in- to one so deeply that the word becomes creative inside. Thinking gets in the way. The power of the [69] word (takes) possession of me. It changes things from being simply things that exist on a superficial level of reality to things that have-- oh, wow, the vocabulary just breaks down-- . . . power.

(On Good Friday, the cross over the altar was supposed to be taken down after the mass. I watched two monks take the cross down while they stood upon the altar-- an almost unthinkable action to me). Their actions were perfectly ordinary and at the sametime "perfectly out of this wor1d." The ordinariness was part of the significance as much as the extraordinariness-- perhaps even more so. But they both had to be present, both the ordinariness and the extraordinariness.

(In the back of the chapel another crucifix was hung. The cross was made of very rough wood and there was a horrible, tortured figure of Christ.) Here it was, just a thing. It wasn't doing anything. It was just being there. And it was communicating so much to me that there's no way of saying what it was communicating. There was no sense of heightened (vlsual) awareness. The meaning was the most significant thlng, even though it wasn't thought. It was just a sense of 'Wow!' The thing is deep, it is not just a thing that is four inches deep and occupies a certain amount of space . . . . (It has) a kind of visceral meaning. It's experienced with the whole body, not just the mind. It's not experienced as an ordinary object among other ordinary objects.It's experienced as something that speaks.

There's also a sense of 'presence' in the church. (It's) very warm, very peaceful. [She gestured with a wlde sweep of both arms to indicate the power and intensity of this feeling.]

Feelings:

I feel dlfferent. I feel-- Wow!-- It's like being in love . . . only when you're in love with a person your being in love is so fixated on that one person. With this, the sense of being in love comes from everywhere. Like I'm being supported. Like floating on a warm ocean. It permeates everything.

[70] The highs are higher. (The lows) have a different quality entirely. A sense of everything being profoundly all right-- incredibly, deeply all right. All I have to do is accept what's given. (I have) a lot more energy; I need much less sleep (only about six hours a night at the monastery).

Angela still experiences some difficulty with the expression of feelings, especially intensely positive or negative, feelings in a social context.

If I'm reading my situation right, I've got to shut them down, keep them low key. They're not socially acceptable. Any real feeling is not socially acceptable . . . . When it comes to the actual situation, I (often) act out of these polite ingrained responses.

Thoughts:

(My thoughts are quieter.) And when I'm really thinking I can really think. There's a very marked difference between when I have something to think about and when I don't. When I don't, I shut up!

Behavior:

In terms of actual behavior, Angela feels that there have not been many marked changes as yet. However, she does relate one incident which illustrates a change in behavior for her:

In one group I'm in I feel sort of like a burr under its saddle. Their approach to things is pretty different from mine. Ordinarily I would be very reluctant to express too directly my differences. One day I felt pretty good . . . . I said, 'You're really into this thing and that's okay but I'm not'. [71]

Relationships with others:

There's (been) a slow evolution of my attitude toward people who are not that important to me. The people who are important to me-- these relationships are growing, but it seems to be more natural and orderly that they should. That doesn't seem so unusual. (The more unusual thing) is that my attitude towards people that aren't so important is becoming less critical, much more accepting, much less judgmental. When I love someone, I don't care what they do. It's not that I never judge people, it's (just that) the gravitational force (to do so) is not as strong as it used to be. I'm less inclined to get angry with people. It's a gradual thing. I'm far from being free from irritations and minor distresses, but they're less troublesome. I can be more detached about them.

I was thlnking about Perl's concept of frustration and support and what a hard time I have frustrating anyone. I've never felt myself able to be cleanly angry with anyone. The inability to express where I am is growing less. I can see the possibility of freedom of expression, including anger.

The (expectations) of people still intimidate me.

(My relationship with my husband) has been made better. This experience has made me begin to be able to let him be (as a separate person). (Sometimes we're apart) but then we come together again on a much better level. (A quote that comes to mind) is 'Let there be spaces in your demands.' It makes apartness possible. We can grow and let each other grow. Sometimes I find it a little threatening because of what T think its consequences might be.

Unification of opposites:

Self/Other: The last couple of months I've been doing a great deal of listening to people. I'm more able than I ever have been to (simply) listen. There's less of that little inner voice that stands back and makes comments and categorizes and evaluates. I'm being much more open. [72]

Feelings/Thoughts: (I think of this dichotomy) in terms of 'stories' as opposed to 'intellectual concepts'. A story is the flesh and bones of an abstraction. To have nothing but abstractions, to have abstractions with their stories detached is like having ghosts. Up until about five years ago when this whole business started (with my conversion), I was pretty much living in my head. That had been my commitment. My intellectual commitment was to ideas. They were disembodied ideas; they were somebody else's ideas . . . I tried very hard (as a teacher) not to 1et my feelings intrude into what I was teaching. Something that I've noticed recently and with a tremendous amount of joy is that I'm beginning to tell stories again. I'm living much more in stories than in analytical constructs. (My analytical thinking) has a lot more life in it now than ever before because (of the) stories.

Masculine/Feminine: That's been a big split. When I was little I thought it was much better to be a boy than to be a girl . . . . I was a tom-boy. To choose to be a woman is to choose to suffer . . . . I had been forced to accept suffering because I was a woman but I had never clearly chosen it. A lot of aspects of femininity I had shut down for various complicated reasons. (Since this experience) there has been an inner change-- an acceptance of femininity which I never deeply felt before. I don't even know that I feel it yet but the reason that I feel it's happening is because of a dream, which was so symbolic of the marriage between the feminine woman and the masculine lover; between the earthy, warm, generous, exuberant woman-- most of these things I've repressed in me-- and those masculine qualities in me-- strength, integrity, (self-confidence, assertiveness). The man is so strong he rubs a lot of people the wrong way . . . . There were actually two dreams: In the first there was a (marriage) ceremony, in the second they were lovers. [Weagreed about the possibility of a third dream-- the 'logical extension' of this sequence-- where the man and the woman were united in one body.]

Desires/Values: In general, (desires and values) are going in the same direction. You can't do a good thing if your inner being is not (in the same place) as your actions. [73]

Actions free/Determined: (The merglng takes place when I am alone or in a good relationship.) (It) really gets cramped when I get in the social situation. (There is a split between what I would do if I felt free and what I feel compelled to do out of social expectations, politeness, etc.)

Some Specific Experiences:

In, order to more fully convey the flavor of Angela's experience I will provide the reader wlth two somewhat longer descriptions-- the first concerning a period of several days in the monastery, the second involving an incident which took place outside the monastery.

In the monastery:

How can I describe what happened (During Holy Week)? It was just very, very heavy. Time just passed in a very, very slow way and I seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into (a very heavy feeling). The heavy (feelings) are a process of getting in touch with things I'm not normally in touch with, which I have to get in touch with (in order to grow) further. (If I don't get in touch with these heavy feelings), they block (my progress).

What I was into was Judas. It occurred to me that no one ever prayed for Judas. It seemed to me that people ought to. To condemn Judas is to condemn ourselves . . . . I think everybody is a betrayer . . . . Judas was more committed to his conception of what Christ was than being open to what Christ really was. He believed. Jesus was the Messiah-- for some reason wich he couldn't understand, Jesus wasn't dolng what he was supposed to [in Judas' conception, to provoke a politlcal revolution].

The betrayal that that signifies to me (is that people in general) find it extraordinarily difficult to be open to what is, to what is reality. I have all sorts of ideas what reality is or ought to be, what God !s or ought to be, what you are or ought to be. To see you as you really are and not as some fantasy I lay on you and to be faithful to [74] that when it's in conflict what I thlnk you ought to be is very, very, hard to do. That's what the message meant to me.

(I had) a tremendous feeling of desolation after Good Friday. I kept looking for a breakthough. (With the Easter Mass, although I had expected one) if I'm going to be in this thing for another year, it's all right, it's all right.

All through the afternoon there was a steadily growing sense that Christ had risen. Now it wasn't anything very dramatic or appearing in any earth-shaking way. (This was) a subjective certainty. My telling you Christ is risen is the same way I would tell you the cat is sitting on my lap [it was at the time]. It's a statement of fact . . . . The evidence is just the subjective awareness. (I felt like I was in love; I felt supported; love and warmth permeated everything). The area in which I was sitting (and the rest of the monastery) was the whole world and within that world was nothing but love and peace.

Outside the monastery:

I was distressed about coming down after leaving the monastery. (I felt) I'm not handling something correctly-- What am I supposed to do with these two different worlds? (Tuesday night) I went to the yoga class. At the end of the class I was talking to one of the students. He's a guy who's very hungry for physical contact and he wanted me to hold him. I held him for awhile and as I did I had the sense . . . that I was able to be transparent al- most and let love flow through me to him.It was not that I loved him. But I was able to be a vehicle of love for him. The impersonality of it was beautiful. There was no attachment. I was not hung up with this at all. And I realized that this thing that happens at the monastery doesn't go (when I leave the monastery).

Period Preceeding the Experience:

In tracing the roots of her experience, Angela stated that the previous Novenber [November, 1972] she and her husband had a woman living with them. This woman got very [75] intensely into religion. Angela and the woman had considerable difficulty in talking. One day they had a long ta1k.

She came on very strong. And she sald, 'Chrlst wants all of us'. And I knew that there were some aspects of my life that I was afraid of losing. The thing that I was afrald of (and I see this as somewhat neurotlc) was that I would lose my husband. (I made a commitment to Christ) saying 'Do with me what you will', but I was afrald I would retract the commitment (because of what it might require of me). I worked on accepting the commitment as much as I could.

(Several months later, while in church, I felt a very strong impulse to cut my hair). I was not really clear why I wanted to have it cut or what it symbolized. I knew it symbolized something. I knew that this was something that I had to go out and do right away. The impulse just got me by the elbow and took me to the hair-dresser's (before any opposing impulses could stop me).

(During the next few months I experienced several instances of being overwhelmed by very strong impulses during mass.)

(That Easter [1973] a certainty came to me.) That Chrlst's resurrection from the dead made some absolutely radical change in the nature of the universe and things would never be the same. This was the difference between an intellectual belief that he rose from the dead and the realization that it meant something. (It had) cosmic implications and implications that went backwards and forwards in time and into the very heart of the nature of reality.

From Easter to July was just pretty much a time of waiting. The thing that happened in July was for the first time really being able to pray-- really having a dialogue. (In July the experience I have been talking about actually began-- with my specific request in prayer that I might be able to love the types of people I felt difficulty in loving, and the answering of that request in a very dramatic way-- through the intense feelings of love I felt for K.)

Peter O'Donnell

[76] Chemical engineer; mid 30's.

Peter O'Donnell started his descrlption by saylng:

It was really the only experience I've had that came close to what you (described). (This is) easily the most positive experience I've ever had . . . . This was especially significant because it stretched (over) 2 1/2 months.

Preceeding this experience, Peter had been at a university in South Africa studying engineering for five years. The last year was especially intense. The last 13 weeks he spent 11 hours a day reading for hls final exams. Hardly ever leaving his room, he consumed 60 cigarettes a day. At the end he was just "physlcally and mentally exhausted."

Before looklng for a permanent job, Peter decided to meet a friend from his hlgh school days at a town called Tobernie, 2OO miles north from where he had been studying. There they would uork together on a short-term construction job-- helping to build an oil refinery.

When he arrived at Tobernie, he met Brighton and two friends who were living with him.

I immediately liked them. I could tell I was going to get on with them.

At the time Peter was a bit anxious about a decision he was trying to make; what type of engineering field to enter.

But after about a week, living and worklng and [77] socializing with these guys, all that anxiety left-- all the sense of impending hassle that I had when I arrived had gone completely. I didn't think or . . . even care about the (decision).

Life at Tobernie lmmediately settled into a regular routine: all four men lived together, worked together, went to the pub after work together-- in fact, they only times they weren't together were when they were "sleeping or fucking." A very strong bond rapidly developed between the four of them.

I may never have had such a good friendship before-- with all of them. I dldn't lLke being wlth anyone of them more than any (other). It was certainly the heaviest friendship . . . I mean I really liked being with these guys.

When I asked Peter if there seemed to be any change in the usual self/other boundary, he replied:

With me and the other three that certainly happened. I can remember when someone talked I didn't worry about the identity of the person as long as it was someone in the four and I could reply thlnking, well, that's one of the group talking.

The group experience was remarkable for the fact that although the four men were together almost constantly for ten weeks, there was no visible evidence of boredom (even though their work, "viewed objectively" was tedious and boring) and there were never any arguments.

There was never a sense of wanting to put anyone down after living together so long. In all my previous experiences, sooner or later someone was sick of the other's company.

[78] If anyone had criticized (someone in the group), we wouldn't have believed it-- just dismissed it or laughed . . . that's the way you react to criticism of yourself that you don't accept. I felt I knew these other guys so well (I wouldn't even have had to reply).

Within the confines of the group experience, things that normally would have bothered Peter had either no impact or were felt to be humorous. What might have normally been taken for "criticism" was seen to be a harmless "observation."

I used to pride myself on having the best jeans-- the most faded and the best. Hamilton told me the jeans I wore were the 'worst fucking jeans' he'd ever seen before. That beforehand would have really hurt me. I just shrieked with laughter . . . . I thought it was the funniest thing I ever heard.

Shortly after Peter's arrival at Tobernie, a fifth man came to live with the group. In spite of the fact that he did the same things all the rest did, Peter felt he was never part of the group experience.

Whenever I thlnk of Tobernie I can see the four of us and him sort of lurking on the fringes . . . . There was never any feeling of a conscious rejection . . . . No one was even rude to him . . . . You'd be talking and laughing at the pub and then he'd say something and you'd suddenly be aware that there were five people there . . . I can't even remember when he left.

This "fifth" person was the only one of the five to be actively corresponding with anyone at the tlme of the experience.

One of the major points stressed repeatedly by Peter was [79] how good he felt durlng this entire period.

It was a fantastic feeling . . . . I didn't think more than a day ahead. It was such a good feeling and such a high that I didn't want to think what was going to happen. It was the most elated feeling . . . absolutely no anxiety. I enjoyed everything so much . . . everything that happened-- eating, drinking, screwing, singing, laughing were just so fantastic and they all came together and that never happened before or since . . . . I can't stress that enough . . . a total sense of well-being. Everything was just great.

When talking about his feelings during this experience, Peter frequently linked them to the fact that he did not have to do any "logical thought" or planning-- that he could just "be" in the present- This he said was "ideal therapy" after his former exhausted condition.

Peter fe1t he "lived a far truer way than what (he) did before or since." This behavior was more natural, spontaneous, and uncontrived. Some things he did then he "never would have done before and never would do now."