The Latihan of Subud, Dissociation and the Neurology of Spiritual Experience
Members are sitting around casually in the
living room of a Subud house after an evening latihan. A Subud brother goes
into crisis, suddenly and inexplicably. His thrashing is so violent that it
takes six men to carry him horizontally, out of the house and into the dark of
the night. No one understands what is happening, not even his girl-friend who
watches in horror, but it is assumed his behaviour is ‘purification’ from his
recent latihan. This man will continue to do latihan for many years before it
is revealed that he is schizophrenic, and that the latihan was not a substitute
for the medication he needed.
Anecdotal stories are found all over the
Subud world in every group, about the breakdowns, crises, psychotic episodes
and long-term dysfunctions of individual members. There is nothing strange
about this, nothing unusual, for it only represents in microcosm the reality of
human life in all communities. Mental illness is as ubiquitous as physical
illness. What should concern us, however, is whether we are responding
appropriately to the issue of mental illness within our Subud groups, whether
we as a community understand what mental illness is and can recognize it when
we see it. But one further set of questions should be asked—and it is shameful
that they have not been asked, given that Bapak specifically singled out mental
illness as one of the few conditions preventing a person from being opened in
Subud (World Subud Association, 2007)—and those questions are: what is the link
between mental illness and the latihan, and is there a causal link between
doing latihan and the appearance of mental illness?
The Subud organization has no history at
all of research into itself. The Subud Vision website might be one of the first
attempts to analyze the phenomenon of Subud, the latihan and the communities to
which it has given rise, in a professional, educated and transparent way. In
this spirit I would like to present some ideas and arguments around the subject
of the latihan itself as a phenomenon which clearly has an impact on human
life, and therefore should not be above thoughtful scrutiny.
I am particularly interested in the
connection between the latihan of Subud and the psychological phenomenon known
as ‘dissociation’. I believe there is indeed a connection between the two
phenomena, one that significantly affects the well-being and quality of life of
many people who enter Subud. In my opinion, it is time that mental health
professionals within Subud act responsibly to investigate the aspects of the
latihan experience that have an impact in the sphere of clinical psychology and
psychiatry.
My discussion of the latihan and
dissociation is informed by current research that is making links between brain
processes, spiritual experience, and mental health. A new and developing field
of research, neurotheology, is finding that dissociation may have a part to play
in spiritual or mystical experience. Neurotheology is a branch of neuroscience
devoted to discovering what happens in our brains, which regions turn on and
which turn off during experiences that are usually described as mystical,
spiritual, religious, or transcendent. The research being done in neurotheology
is providing fascinating insights into the field of spiritual phenomena.
The terms ‘latihan’ and ‘dissociation’
require some definition and delimitation.
The Latihan Kejiwaan (Indonesian: latihan = exercise,
kejiwaan = spiritual)
In discussing the latihan kejiwaan
of Subud, it isn’t my intention to give offence to those who prefer to view it
as a purely spiritual experience. I am not negating the spiritual component of
the phenomenon or trying in any way to invalidate it. But wherever this latihan
comes from and whatever its source, for a human to experience it, it must go
through or be mediated by the biological system, including the brain’s
neurological web.
The issue of our subjective experience of
spiritual phenomena will be taken up later in the article. For now, I emphasize
that my interest in this discussion is centred on the latihan as a phenomenon
that is felt and experienced with the body, brain, emotions and cognition, and
which affects our body, mind and feelings, as well as our relationship with the
world beyond ourselves. Discussion of the latihan as a spiritual phenomenon
affecting our psyches or souls, I leave for others to pursue.
Dissociation
In the field of psychiatry and psychology,
the term ‘dissociation’ is used in connection with trauma and its consequences.
It is usually used in a context of states of distress, anxiety, conflict and
heightened emotions. In this context dissociation is the individual’s automatic
response to situations that feel overwhelming and beyond one’s capacity to deal
with. However, in a wider, everyday context, dissociation is a universal human
experience, which most people experience at some time. A common story is told
by adults who felt ‘out of their bodies’ when very ill as a child. It is
experienced along a continuum from common and casual day-dreaming and reverie
and feeling ‘spaced out’, to the more extreme forms associated with
post-traumatic stress disorder, borderline personality disorder, and at its
most extreme end, dissociative identity disorder (formerly known as multiple
personality disorder), in which the awareness of self is severely split into
separate parts of self that seem like distinct personalities.
I would describe dissociation in the
following way: it is an altered state of consciousness during which an
individual can think about, talk about and contemplate a subject which should
have strong emotions attached to it, in a way that is clearly emotionally
detached. A dissociated person compartmentalizes a given experience, keeping
thought and feeling separate. They might process the experience cognitively,
i.e., with thought and intellect, but divorced from the emotion attached to the
experience. Or they would experience feelings and emotion without any clear
mental picture, thoughts or memories attached to them.
For example, if I come upon a dog in the
street, my thinking/cognition first constructs a mental picture of the
situation, analyses it for clues, and only then do I have an emotional
response—“oh, what a cute doggie” (pleasure), or “that dog looks dangerous; I’m
going to back off” (fear). But if I experience the meeting with the dog in a
dissociated state (say, due to past and mostly forgotten trauma with a savage
dog), I might feel instant fear and panic without any understanding of why
(either because my mind blanks out or I have amnesia for the earlier event), or
I might say to myself, “here is a dog; it looks savage,” but with no attached
feeling at all, as if I am watching it all outside of myself (emotional
shutdown).
This disconnection between cognition and
emotion is at the heart of dissociative phenomena. But under that
generalization are various sub-categories, listed below. The prefixes ‘de’ and
‘dis’ give an indication that these states of consciousness are regarded as
deviations from an integrated state where thought and emotion are operating
together in collaboration and mutual support.
• Dis-inhibition—related to alcohol, drugs,
trance states, etc. Release of inhibition can be experienced as cathartic
eruption of negative emotion or euphoric feelings of bliss.
• Emotional detachment—inability to connect with
others on an emotional level, as well as a means of coping with anxiety by
avoiding certain situations that trigger it. It is often described as
‘emotional numbing’ or dissociation.
• Disengagement—the act of releasing from an
attachment or connection, the act of dividing or disconnecting.
• Depersonalization—the sense of being detached
from, or “not in” one’s body. This is what is often referred to as an
“out-of-body” experience.
• Derealization—the sense of the world not
being real. Some people say the world looks phony, foggy, far away, or as if
seen through a veil. Some people describe seeing the world as if they are
detached, or as if they were watching a movie.
• Amnesia—when overwhelming fear activates the
fight-or-flight response in the brain, but neither fighting nor escape is
possible, the person retreats psychologically—they dissociate, a form of
non-physical escape, an altered form of consciousness. Such experiences usually
result in some degree of psychogenic amnesia and post-traumatic stress
disorder. This is why much of the literature around dissociation is related to
trauma research.
Judith Lewis Herman, describing the
‘constriction of consciousness’ that is part of the dissociative consequences
of post-traumatic stress, explains:
Events continue to register in awareness,
but it is as though these events have been disconnected from their ordinary
meanings. Perceptions may be numbed or distorted…. Time sense may be altered,
often with a sense of slow motion, and the experience may lose its quality of
ordinary reality. These…states of consciousness are similar to hypnotic trance
states [though Herman emphasizes that they are not the same]. They share the
same features of surrender of voluntary action, suspension of initiative and
critical judgement, subjective detachment or calm, enhanced perception of
imagery, altered sensation,…and distortion of reality, including
depersonalization, derealization, and change in the sense of time. (Herman, J.L., 1992, pp. 42-43)
The exact neural pathways and mechanism of
dissociation are not known definitively, but the moments of dissociation have
been captured on MRI scans of large numbers of patients with dissociative
identity disorder, at Swinburne University in Melbourne, a world-first project
with which I have been associated. The moments of switching from one state to
another appear on the screen as massive disruptions of the subject’s brain
waves, followed by a return to calm as the new state of consciousness (known as
‘alters’) settles in. (Ciorciari, 2002)
My Experience of the Latihan and Dissociation
As a practicing creative arts
psychotherapist, and a former member of Subud, I have had close contact with
the impact of mental illness at both professional and personal levels. In
keeping with a collaborative approach to professional research, I include my
own story in my investigation, and acknowledge the impact this story has had on
my enquiry into the links between the latihan, dissociation and mental health.
I began practising the spiritual exercise
of Subud while still a teenager and continued with it for many years. However I had come to Subud with the
background of a traumatic childhood within a dysfunctional family setting. Unfortunately the Subud community was
subject to the same lack of understanding about psychological needs and mental
ill-health that was typical of society in general, and I and my family were
advised not to seek psychological counselling but to do our spiritual exercise
and trust in God to fix things.
There were many advantages to the
life-style I had chosen in Subud: the emphasis on honourable actions,
proscription against drugs and alcohol, close-knit community and friendships,
security and certainty of beliefs. It
allowed me to live in a cocoon for many years, but it didn't allow me to grow
in intellectual freedom nor to attend to the unresolved traumas and emotional
dysfunctions remaining from childhood and adolescence. As is the way with human
life-stages, the dysfunctions gradually eroded my happiness and well-being, and
deep within me, repressed material began to insist on coming to the surface to
be healed.
Within the context of my life in Subud and
my practice of the latihan, this change manifested as a change in my feeling
about doing the spiritual exercise. I began to feel afraid of it, of being in
an enclosed space with others in that heightened state. I began to fear what
felt like a deep, dark dungeon inside me, full of pain, which only surfaced
when I did latihan. Consequently the practice of latihan became full of violent
outpourings of distress, confusion and pain. For some years I alternated
between stopping latihan altogether and persisting with it against an instinct
that was telling me to stop.
Eventually, with the changing times,
psychological therapy became more acceptable as an option for change, and I
entered into a long-term therapeutic relationship with a psychotherapist who
was skilled in my area of need. I began to experience what Subud people around
me perceived as ‘a crisis’ (i.e., a spiritual crisis). However, for me there
was nothing spiritual about it at all. What I was actually experiencing was the
classic opening phase (known, interestingly enough, as ‘the crisis phase’!) of
the healing process from post-traumatic stress disorder.
In this opening phase of therapy I
experienced myself as a number of different people, all children. Sometimes I
heard voices inside my ears, speaking in voices that were not my own. When I
shifted from one ‘child’ to another, I would behave quite differently, but I
always had an executive self who was present to all of them. My therapist
explained that these ‘children’ were actually memories surfacing. I was
producing prodigious amounts of artwork and poetry, and it was through these
visual and poetic images that the memories poured out. Through this process I
began to see my inner ‘children/memories’ as having been chained in a dungeon
in my psyche for thirty-five years, wrapped around by heavy chains that
prevented them from surfacing, able to speak to each other, but not to me, the
adult Hassanah. I also discovered, very guiltily, that my relationship with
these selves was extremely negative, rejecting, critical and unloving. Interestingly,
it was not the practice of latihan, which focusses on one's loving relationship
with a 'God', that changed this inner relationship with the self, but the
journey in therapy, which taught me to love myself.
I came to understand why my latihans had been
so tortured over the last few years, as this material became more and more
insistent on being let free. The way I pictured it to myself was this: in a
latihan state the door to this dungeon of the unconscious was opened, and I
would descend the stairs to the prison of my repressed self. There I would cry
and scream, crawl around the floor and generally feel as if I wanted to rip
myself apart. But when the latihan was finished, I’d come back up again and
leave all the screaming parts behind in the dark. I couldn’t bring them up to
the light with me.
Although I tried and tried, the latihan
process did not allow me to do this. Through therapy I understood why—because
the resolution of the trauma required that I stop dissociating, that I be able
to talk about my experiences and learn to feel my emotions in a non-dissociated
state. Trying to heal myself through latihan was like a drug addict trying to
fix his problems by taking another drug.
Once I came to this understanding I knew
what my next decision had to be. Within the metaphor I had built for myself, I
knew that I had to learn to bring the ‘children’ up into my world, and must no
longer go down into their world only to leave them stranded there. Along with
this understanding came a slightly altered way of viewing this ‘latihan’ that I
had been doing unquestioningly and uncritically for so long, because I was
beginning to get insights into the nature of dissociation.
The therapist’s first comment on the
matter was that latihan was a form of dissociation. I was taken aback, and a
bit offended. She then emphasized that that was not to take away its relevance
as a spiritual phenomenon. But from a medical point-of-view it involved an
altered state of consciousness, and therefore would be classified as a form of
dissociation. As therapy continued I came to understand that my childhood
experiences had left me with PTSD and dissociative tendencies. I saw that while
the latihan had in many ways protected and preserved me, it had also prevented
me from overcoming the post-traumatic stress disorder and the dissociative
disorder, because it reinforced and perpetuated my dissociation. Because I
experienced this so clearly for myself I had to begin to consider the
possibility that the latihan and dissociation were linked so closely that
perhaps they were actually the same phenomenon.
Dissociation in Subud Life
I realize that for many readers this
proposed link between the latihan and dissociation will be new territory, as we
are not used to thinking of the latihan in these terms. I believe the easiest
way to make sense of the subject at this point is to give a few concrete
examples of how the latihan can be used in the same way that humans use
dissociation, which is to help them distance from unwelcome and uncomfortable
feelings, or to access pleasurable ones.
I have a Subud friend who grew up in a
Subud household. Her father could not cope with displays of anger, and whenever
a fight or argument caused him to lose his temper, he would go straight to his
bedroom and do latihan. My friend commented that he always came out completely
calm and quiet, but emotionally removed. The family arguments never got
properly resolved, because the focus was always on simply removing any traces
of negative emotion. From a clinical point of view, this father was
dissociating from his emotions. I imagine from his point of view he was
‘surrendering’ them to Almighty God. But it would now be generally accepted
that best family practice involves being able to talk about and work through
difficult emotions and tensions between people. This was not understood, and
the latihan was used as a tool for avoidance. (See earlier description of ‘emotional detachment’.)
The Subud practice of ‘cleansing’ latihans
is, I believe, of the same order, though used with a different hidden agenda.
(In the following passage I use ‘Subud’ language which I learnt from the talks
of Bapak, the founder of Subud, and through my years in the Subud community. I
have since rejected this particular way of describing experience.) Cleansing latihans are usually done after a
‘helping’ latihan with someone who is going through a ‘heavy’ or difficult
event of some kind. The helpers often experience ‘throwing off’ very unpleasant
and often quite violent feelings. It is taken as read that the throw-off
material has been ‘picked up’ from the person for whom the helping latihan was
done. It was often my experience out in the wicked nafsu-ridden world,
that I would be sitting near someone and feel terrible, feel as if I was
picking up some awful ‘lower forces’. I would rush off and do a quick
‘cleanser’, ridding myself of this person’s unclean nafsu. (See
Supplement No.1 to Bapak’s Advice and Guidance for Helpers, 1983-1988,
p.11, ‘The way to measure how clean you are’.)
Many years into therapy I came to realize
what was happening when I thought I was picking up other people’s ‘forces’.
Certain people reminded me of people connected to my trauma. Their features,
body language, clothes, etc., were triggers that set off traumatic alarm bells.
I was not ‘catching’ something invisible from them; rather, they were
activating my own hidden issues, baggage, memories, etc. I believe something
similar can happen in latihans where helpers are supporting a troubled member,
and the cleansing latihans can act as either catharsis of the material raised
within oneself, or dissociation from its unpleasant effects, or both.
The latihan is a fascinating and
extraordinary experience, and I have no doubt in my own mind that it is real.
My great concern, around which this article revolves, is how this latihan is
used, and the profound lack of understanding its practitioners have about what
they are dealing with at the psychological and medical levels. The latihan
generally presents itself in one of two ways, usually referred to as
purification or receiving. Purification involves the throwing out of unwanted
material (lower forces and nafsu).
Although Bapak described it as the placing of the lower forces in their
correct place (World Subud Association, 2002), my experience in Subud has been
that most people think of purification as catharsis or the expulsion of
unpleasant or unwanted thoughts and feelings. Most of the preceding discussion
has centred around the ‘purificatory’ type of experience, which in
psychological terms is certainly cathartic, but can also be used for distancing
or avoidance.
Neurotheology—The Brain and Spiritual Experience
The ‘receiving’ type of latihan represents
the goal and aim of those on the spiritual path. The following description
would, I believe, be representative of the experience of many Subud people:
I felt communion, peace, openness to
experience…. [There was] an awareness and responsiveness to God’s presence
around me, and a feeling of centering, quieting, nothingness, [as well as]
moments of fullness of the presence of God. [God was] permeating my being. (Begley, 2001)
In relation to this uplifting, blissful
and intensely satisfying type of latihan experience, I now turn to the current
research being done in neurotheology, a branch of neuroscience devoted to
uncovering the brain processes that happen during religious, spiritual and
mystical experience. Most of the following information is readily available on
the Internet, and I include references and supply the relevant URL addresses at
the end of the article. I include this topic because the brain research of neurotheology
has raised the possibility that the neural process of dissociation is once
again involved.
The region of the brain that becomes
active during mystical/spiritual states is in the prefrontal cortex, the front
temporal and parietal lobes. In evolutionary terms the prefrontal cortex, at
the top and front of the brain, is the more recent part of our brain to
develop, and we share this development with other primates. Often called the
seat of ‘higher brain functions’, frontal lobes mediate reason, language,
self-awareness, spacial and temporal awareness, logic, as well as many
functions to do with sensory processing. Brain physiology is very complex, and
the information here is very simplified. I recommend “Psycheducation.org” for
an easy-to-read explanation, with diagrams, of the three evolutionary stages of
the human brain (see Bibliography).
The more primitive mid-brain, located
right in the centre of our brain and shared with mammals, is involved in the
processes which often precede religious experience. The limbic system of the
mid-brain, or mammalian brain, mediates emotions, memory, sense of safety,
well-being and fight-or-flight response, as well as other systems that are not
relevant to this discussion. Many spiritual ceremonies are preceded by rituals
and practices that quieten the thought processes, create emotional dissociation
(through chanting, drumming, etc.) and heighten the sense of communal bonding
and togetherness, all of which create ideal conditions for receptiveness to
spiritual receiving. (Begley, 2001)
But at the point where the individual
begins to sense connection with the divine, oneness with the universe, powerful
feelings of a godly presence and so on, at that moment parts of the prefrontal
cortex of the brain are flooded with oxygen and become active on the SPECT
scan. Short for ‘single photon emission computed tomography’, this is the
machine being used by neurologists in the laboratory to record which parts of
the brain receive more blood (and therefore more oxygen) during the practice of
spiritual exercises. More blood/oxygen indicates more neuronal activity.
The most widely publicized experiments, by
Andrew Newberg and Eugene d’Aquili at the University of Pennsylvania, and
Richard Davidson at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, were on Buddhist monks
of long experience in deep meditation. (Begley, 2001; Geirland, 2006) However,
other techniques and varieties of spiritual experience have also been recorded
and analyzed. (Begley, 2001) What surprised researchers was not so much the
parts that ‘lit up’ (became active) during spiritual exercise as the regions
that went dark (became quiet and inactive).
A bundle of neurons in the superior
parietal lobe, toward the top and back of the brain, goes dark. This region,
nicknamed the “orientation association area,” processes information about space
and time, and the orientation of the body in space. It determines where the
body ends and the rest of the world begins. Specifically, the left orientation
area creates the sensation of a physically delimited body; the right
orientation area creates the sense of the physical space in which the body
exists.
The orientation area requires sensory
input to do its calculus. “If you block sensory inputs to this region, as you
do during the intense concentration of meditation or the quietness of spiritual
absorption, you prevent the brain from forming the distinction between self and
not-self,” says Newberg. With no information from the senses arriving, the left
orientation area cannot find any boundary between the self and the world. As a
result, the brain seems to have no choice but “to perceive the self as endless
and intimately interwoven with everyone and everything,” Newberg and d'Aquili
write. The right orientation area, equally bereft of sensory data, defaults to
a feeling of infinite space. The meditators feel that they have touched infinity. (Begley, 2001)
Heightened electrical activity in the
temporal lobes (part of the cerebral cortex) that lie along the sides of the
head has been recorded during such exercises. This electrical crackling is also
thought to be connected to dissociation. The
temporal lobe area is also involved in speech perception. The following
hypothesis might explain my experience of hearing other people’s voices in my
head in the days when I was often dissociated.
One experience common to many spiritual
states is hearing the voice of God. It seems to arise when you misattribute
inner speech (the “little voice” in your head that you know you generate
yourself) to something outside yourself. During such experiences, the brain’s
Broca’s area (responsible for speech production) switches on. Most of us can
tell this is our inner voice speaking. But when sensory information is
restricted, as happens during meditation or prayer, people are more likely to
misattribute internally generated thoughts to an external source. (Bentall in Cardena et al, 2000)
Scientists are interested to understand
why some people have transcendental experiences and some don’t, since all
humans are physiologically capable of them. Research into these areas is so new
that the data is only recently being collected and analyzed. The early
hypothesis based on the data so far, is that the factors that might predispose
a person to be likely to experience spiritual phenomena are: the ease with
which they can access their unconscious or inner psychological processes, their
connection to imagination and fantasy, their ability to accept new ideas and
experience, and their ability to dissociate or move into altered states of
consciousness. These appear to be the attributes most in common between people
who report having religious or spiritual experiences. (Begley, 2001)
Neuroscientists involved in this research
have publicly stated that it is not their agenda to challenge people’s
spiritual beliefs, only to uncover what is happening in the brain during these
subjective experiences. (Newberg, 2002) The question of whether we are creating
the experience of God or, alternatively, registering the effect of God’s
presence in us, is not one that can be answered as yet. That is a matter of
faith and belief.
The Relevance of Neurotheology to Subud
As indicated in the above extracts, the
presence of dissociative processes has once again been identified in connection
with spiritual phenomena. All the investigations I have made into this field
have served to confirm my initial instinct that there is a fundamental link
between the latihan of Subud and the psychological process known as
dissociation. This does not mean that this is a bad thing. It probably simply
means that it is a natural and inbuilt mechanism in us, a kind of ‘switch’ to
enable this kind of numinous experience. For most healthy, well-adjusted
people, a limited amount of dissociation is fine, even therapeutic and
relaxing, as most Subud people will attest. (And I emphasize again that this
discussion is not dealing with the spiritual benefits of such practices, which
have been felt throughout human history and across the world.)
But for someone who is already dissociated
or prone to dissociation under certain conditions, the latihan has the
potential to exacerbate an already unstable psychological system. It has been
seen to do this all over the Subud world. Few helpers, however, understand the
mechanism driving this problem with the mentally fragile or ill. And I suspect
that Subud is not alone in this. A website on meditation and kundalini,
discussing the problem of over-zealous devotees who go into spiritual crises or
psychoses, similarly shows no understanding of the neural or physiological
mechanism behind these cognitive and emotional breakdowns that are common to
all mystical systems (Lukoff, 2007).
What I believe is often missing in these
systems, including Subud, is the integrative function of talking. Dissociaton
is a dis-integrating function, severing the normal ties between thought,
emotion, memory and consciousness. If the experiences that people have in
latihan were debriefed, shared and spoken about (with appropriate controls, as
in a therapy situation), then some degree of re-integration might be possible,
reconnecting the intuitive with the cognitive, one of the prerequisites for
healthy mental functioning.
If there is a link between dissociation
and the latihan, the question I find myself asking is: ‘Which came first?’ Is the latihan exercise a transcendental
experience mediated by the brain, which subsequently gives rise to a
dissociative state, or is the latihan phenomenon a dissociative state itself?
Is all mystical experience predicated on the dissociative mechanism which all
humans have the ability to produce?
In relation to the latter possibility, the
research to date indicates that spiritual paranormal experience is located in
the parietal lobes of the prefrontal cortex, and dissociation seems to be
generated in the temporal lobes (prefrontal cortex) and involves the limbic
system (mammalian brain). That is a very simplistic way of categorizing the
experiences, and it is much more likely that further systems are involved, as
it is becoming clear that the brain tends to operate as a network (Buchanan,
2002). It is possible a networking connection between the parietal and temporal
locations will eventually be found in relation to transcendental experience.
If the answer, however, is that
dissociation arises as a consequence of doing latihan, then it becomes
necessary to ask why. Dissociation usually arises as a protective response to pain,
distress, fear and intense emotion. If the latihan opens a door into our
unconscious, inner regions, it is certainly possible that that would be a
confronting and fearful encounter, one that most people would resist as
potentially too threatening. We keep these things hidden away for good reason.
But the latihan has an equal component of blissful, transcendent and worshipful
emotional affect, and why should members need to dissociate in the face of
these experiences?
This is a subject for further research, as
more neurological information becomes available. At this point in the
investigation, I would choose to hypothesize that it is the spiritual or
mystical state itself which is a form of dissociation, involving several areas
of the brain including the network that enables dissociation. At what point in
the preparatory rituals and practices or the early moments of mystical
receiving that dissociative response sets in, is yet to be determined.
Conclusion—Implications for Mental Health in Subud
Our brains seem to be wired for
transcendental or spiritual experience.
All societies around the world have been moved by a need for connection
with something beyond themselves, whether they define it as the deity, life-force,
mythical being, ancestor worship or some other belief system. Our higher brains
seem to have developed with a mechanism for ‘tuning in’ to that longed-for
source, whether you choose to believe that we create the deity out of our need
for it, or are created and contacted by a divinity within or external to
ourselves.
Spiritual systems that have been around
for centuries or longer have developed checks and boundaries to protect their
members, because they have learnt that both the transcendent drive in us and
the life-force that arrives when bidden, are powerful forces that can do damage
to egos that are not strong enough or prepared enough. It is understandable
that these spiritual organizations do not understand, any more than the Subud
organization does, what the physiological and neurological mechanism is that
acts as the ‘switchboard’ for mystical experience, because the research is so
new. This may begin to change as the experiments with the Buddhist monks become
more widely understood.
Subud is a very young movement, which
unfortunately has not yet learnt this essential lesson in self-containment and
protection. As a movement of the late
20th and early 21st centuries, we have the opportunity to scale two obstacles
with the same leap: to learn about the neurological mechanism of the latihan
and at the same time put systems in place to guide and protect vulnerable
members.
In my own development, it was only after
learning not to dissociate in the face of difficulties that I was able to take
charge of my life and accomplish the goals I was passionate about. Questions
that come up in Subud conversations again and again are why so many Subud
enterprises have failed, why Subud is not having more of an impact in the world
and why we are not growing significantly as an organization.
Many years ago a chiropractor, Dr. Kevin
Neave, attracted many of the Subud members in my group because his therapeutic
treatment was so good. One day I was having a treatment, and asked him if he
noticed anything in common with the Subud folk that he treated. I was expecting
something positive, maybe how sensitive or ‘special’ these people were. Instead
he said something that astonished and puzzled me. He said, after a pause, yes,
what he noticed was that all his Subud clients had rather flaccid and passive
muscles and flesh, and that they seemed…and he searched for the phrase…as if
they somehow weren’t connected with…what was needed to be effective. What surprised me was that Dr. Neave was
struck not by the wisdom, or spirituality, or friendliness of our Subud people,
but by an odd relationship they seemed to have with their bodies! Those words
stayed with me for years, until I finally found a context in which to make
sense of them.
I believe it is possible that many people
in Subud are dissociated—most of the time—believing that they are correctly
maintaining a quiet state of latihan within themselves. While this seems to be
spiritually commendable, it becomes a problem when its opposite—being fully
integrated and in touch with your passions, dynamism, drive, determination and
will power—is seen as being in a state of nafsu, dominated by the lower
forces. This, I believe, is the disconnection and dis-association that has
crippled Subud as an effective force in the world. That is not to invalidate
the many great projects and activities that Subud people are doing across the
world, people who can mobilize their passions and work with them to achieve the
noble goals that are part of the Subud vision. But there are many—too many—who
have been left behind, unable to cope with the heaviness of the world and its
forces, feeling separate from it, and seeking consolation in a practice that
maintains and reinforces that disconnection.
If, indeed, the mechanism of dissociation
is operating as part of the phenomenon we call ‘the latihan’, then this is an
issue that affects not only those experiencing overt mental illness, but is
also an issue of importance for all Subud members, who need at least to know
what the risks are in practising a mystical exercise so that they can make
informed choices about it. For those at risk of mental imbalance, however,
Subud is behaving unethically in not taking this subject seriously at the
decision-making levels.
There are multiple factors involved in
deciding how to deal with ‘Subud psychosis’ (as it was termed by doctors in
London in the 1960s), to what degree it should be treated as a spiritual
phenomenon, and how much medical and psychological intervention is appropriate.
By presenting these arguments and the research behind them, I am inviting
discussion and consideration of possibilities and implications. Let us have the
courage to ask questions about ourselves and our practices and not continue in
a manner that is blind to human progress and knowledge.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
References on Dissociation
APA
(2006): American Psychiatric Association, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
of Mental Disorders (DSM IV)
URL: http://www.psych.org/research/dor/dsm/index.cfm
Ciorciari, Joseph. (2002) ‘EEG Coherence
and Dissociative Identity Disorder.’ Journal of Trauma and Dissociation,
Volume 3, Issue 1, 2002.
Diagnostic and Statistical
Manual of Mental Disorders, 4th Ed. (1994) Washington,
D.C.: American Psychiatric Association.
Herman, Judith Lewis. (1992) Trauma and
Recovery. London: Harper Collins.
ISSTD
(2004-2007): International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation,
URL : http://www.isst-d.org/education/faq-dissociation.htm)
Siegel,
Daniel J. (1999) The Developing Mind: How relationships and the brain
interact to shape who we are. New York: The Guildford Press.
Spitzer,
C., Barnow, S., Freyberger, H.J. & Joergen Grabe. ‘Recent developments in
the theory of dissociation’. World Psychiatry. 2006 June; 5(2): 82–86.
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia,
URL http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dissociation
Wilson,
J.P. & Raphael, B., Eds. (1993) International Handbook of Traumatic
Stress Syndromes. New York: Plenum Press.
References on Neuroscience and
Neurotheology
Begley,
Sharon. (2001) ‘Your Brain on Religion: Mystic visions or brain circuits
at work?’ Newsweek, Copyright
May 7, 2001. URL: http://www.cognitiveliberty.org/neuro/neuronewswk.htm
Bentall,
Richard P. (2000) in Varieties of Anomalous Experience:
Examining the Scientific Evidence. Eds. Cardena, Etzel, Lynn, Steven Jay,
and Krippner, Stanley. Chapter 3.
Geirland,
John. (2006) ‘Buddha on the Brain: The hot new frontier of neuroscience:
meditation! Wired, 14.2, Feb. 2006.
URL: http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/14.02/dalai.html
Hirstein,
W., and Ramachandran V.S. (1997) ‘Capgras syndrome: a novel probe for
understanding the neural representation and familiarity of persons.’ Proceedings
of the Royal Society of London, 264, 437-444.
URL: http://psy.ucsd.edu/chip/pdf/Capgras_Syn_Roy_Soc.pdf
Ramachandran, V. S., & Blakeslee, S.
(1998) Phantoms in the Brain.
William Morrow, N.Y.
Johnson,
George. God Is in the Dendrites. Friday, April 27, 2007
URL: http://richarddawkins.net/article,933,God-Is-in-the-Dendrites,George-Johnson
Newberg,
Andrew & D’Aquili, Eugene. (2002) ‘Wired for the Ultimate Reality: The
Neuropsychology of Religious Experience. Examining the biological mechanisms
underlying religious and spiritual experience.’ Science & Spirit
URL: http://www.science-spirit.org/article_detail.php?article_id=205
Psycheducation.org
(2007) Brain Tours: Your “3-Brains-in-One” Brain. URL: http://www.psycheducation.org/emotion/triune%20brain.htm
Siegel,
Daniel J. (1999) The Developing Mind: How relationships and the brain
interact to shape who we are. New York: The Guildford Press.
Siegel,
Daniel J. ‘An Interpersonal Neurobiology of Psychotherapy: The
developing mind and the resolution of trauma’ in Solomon & Siegel (2005),
pp. 1 – 56.
Solomon,
Marion F. & Siegel, Daniel J. Eds. (2005) Healing Trauma: attachment,
mind, body and brain. New York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Van
der Kolk, Bessel A. ‘Posttraumatic Stress Disorder and the Nature of Trauma’ in
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Trauma: attachment, mind, body and brain. New York: W.W. Norton
& Co., pp. 168 - 195.
Winkelman,
Michael. (2001) ‘God and the Brain: How we are wired for Spirituality.’ Newsweek,
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References on Subud and Other
Mystical Practices
Dewan
of International Helpers. Eds. (1983-1988) Supplement No.1 to Bapak’s Advice
and Guidance for Helpers.
Kundalini URL: http://www.crystalinks.com/kundalini.html
Lukoff,
David. (2007) ‘Lesson 3.5: Meditation
and Spiritual Practices’ from Spiritual Competency Resource Centre: Courses.
DSM-IV Religious and Spiritual Problems.
URL: http://www.spiritualcompetency.com/dsm4/lesson3_5.asp
World Subud Association. (2007) Bapak's
reply to helpers in New York, 7 May 1969. 3rd Edition. Subud Publications
International.
World Subud Association (2002) Bapak’s
Talks, Volume 8. Subud Publications International. ISBN 1 869822 20 X
Systems Theory
Buchanan,
Mark. (2002) Small World: Uncovering nature’s hidden networks. London:
Weidenfeld & Nicholson, Chapter 4: Brain works.