There are moments in life when our usual experience of ourselves and the world seems to shift.
Perhaps it happens during deep meditation, a powerful healing experience, a dream, breathwork, drumming or another contemplative practice. Perhaps it comes unexpectedly — during a moment in nature, following a profound life experience, or in a state between waking and sleeping.
For a moment, something feels different.
Our ordinary sense of time may disappear. The boundaries between us and the world may seem less defined. We may experience an extraordinary sense of connection, insight, stillness or awareness.
These experiences are sometimes described as non-ordinary states of consciousness.
They have been recognised throughout human history and across many spiritual traditions. They can be deeply meaningful, sometimes transformative, and occasionally challenging or unsettling.
But what exactly is happening when our ordinary state of consciousness changes?
What is a non-ordinary state of consciousness?
A non-ordinary state of consciousness is simply a state of awareness that differs significantly from our usual waking experience.
Our everyday consciousness tends to be organised around a familiar sense of identity. We know who we are, where we are, what we are doing and how we relate to the world around us.
In a non-ordinary state, some of these familiar structures can temporarily change.
We might experience:
- a reduced sense of ego or separate self
- a different experience of time
- heightened sensory awareness
- vivid imagery or unusual perceptions
- a feeling of profound interconnectedness
- access to thoughts, memories or emotions that feel deeper than our ordinary awareness
- a sense of peace, stillness or expanded awareness
- insights that seem to arrive without conscious effort
For some people these experiences are deeply spiritual. For others they may feel psychological, neurological or simply mysterious.
Perhaps they can be understood through more than one lens.
The important thing is not necessarily to decide immediately what an experience means, but to become curious about it.
How do these states occur?
Non-ordinary states of consciousness can arise in many different ways.
Meditation and contemplative practices can gradually change our relationship with our thoughts and our sense of self. Deep breathwork can alter our physical and emotional state. Rhythmic drumming and other forms of repetitive sound can create a powerful sense of absorption.
Dreaming, lucid dreaming and the transition between sleeping and waking can also take us into unusual states of awareness.
Sometimes these experiences happen spontaneously, without us consciously seeking them.
And, of course, some non-ordinary states can be associated with psychedelic substances. Increasingly, researchers have become interested in their potential therapeutic applications, particularly when they are used within carefully supported clinical settings.
Whatever the doorway, the experience itself can be profoundly different from our normal way of perceiving ourselves and our world.
What happens in the brain?
There is growing scientific interest in what happens in the brain during meditation and other non-ordinary states.
One area that has received considerable attention is something called the Default Mode Network (DMN).
The DMN is associated with aspects of self-referential thinking — the inner narrative through which we remember our past, imagine our future and maintain our familiar sense of “me”.
During some altered states, activity and connectivity within this network can change. At the same time, communication between brain regions can become less constrained, potentially allowing connections and associations that don’t normally occur in our everyday state of consciousness.
This may help us understand why people sometimes report experiences such as seeing familiar situations in completely new ways, experiencing unusual sensory associations, or gaining insights into longstanding emotional patterns.
But neuroscience does not necessarily tell us what these experiences mean.
It can help us understand some of the processes taking place in the brain, while the personal, psychological and spiritual meaning of an experience remains something much more individual.
And perhaps this is where the subject becomes particularly fascinating.
Meditation, brainwaves and changing states
Different forms of meditation appear to influence the brain in different ways.
Brainwaves are measured in cycles per second, or Hertz (Hz), and different patterns are associated with different states of consciousness. The material I was given describes the broad relationship between beta, alpha, theta, delta and gamma activity and different forms of meditation.
In simple terms, we might think of them as different rhythms of consciousness.
Beta is associated with ordinary active thinking, concentration and problem-solving.
Alpha is associated with relaxed alertness — that lovely state in which we are awake but no longer pushing ourselves mentally.
Theta is associated with deep relaxation, imagery, dreaming and inward awareness.
Delta is most strongly associated with deep, dreamless sleep.
Gamma is associated with complex information processing and has also been observed during certain forms of advanced meditation and compassion practice.
Practices such as mindfulness, focused attention, loving-kindness meditation, mantra meditation and Yoga Nidra may therefore create different pathways into altered or deeply restorative states of awareness.
But perhaps the most interesting question is not simply what brainwave state am I in?
It is:
What happens to me when I experience consciousness differently?
The importance of the body
One of the things I find particularly important when exploring consciousness is remembering that we are not simply minds having experiences.
We are embodied human beings.
A powerful experience of consciousness can affect the nervous system, emotions, memories and physical body. This is why grounding and integration are so important.
After a profound experience, we may need time to rest, to be quiet, to spend time in nature, to move our bodies gently, or simply to allow what has happened to settle.
Writing, painting, music and other forms of creative expression can also help us give shape to experiences that are difficult to put into words.
Sometimes the most important part of an extraordinary experience happens afterwards.
Experience is not the same as transformation
This is something I believe is particularly worth remembering. A non-ordinary state of consciousness can be extraordinary. It can feel profound, beautiful, mystical or life-changing. But the experience itself is not necessarily the transformation. We might have a powerful insight during meditation and then return to exactly the same patterns of behaviour the following day. We might experience an overwhelming sense of universal love and interconnectedness, but still struggle with our relationships, boundaries, fears or old wounds.
The question therefore becomes:
How do we bring what we have experienced back into ordinary life?
This is the process of integration. Integration means allowing an experience to become part of us rather than simply something that happened to us.
It might mean changing a behaviour, setting a healthier boundary, acknowledging an emotion we have previously avoided, understanding an old pattern differently, or beginning to live in a way that feels more authentic.
In this sense, spiritual growth is not necessarily about having increasingly extraordinary experiences.
Sometimes it is about becoming more fully present to the very ordinary experience of being human.
When an experience is difficult
Not all non-ordinary states are beautiful or peaceful. Sometimes they can be frightening, confusing or overwhelming.
Intense emotional experiences, unusual perceptions, severe disruption of sleep or significant changes in mood should not automatically be interpreted as evidence of spiritual awakening or spiritual advancement.
There can be psychological, neurological and physical explanations for experiences that may initially feel spiritual. For me, this doesn’t diminish the spiritual dimension. Rather, it asks us to approach these experiences with discernment as well as openness. We don’t have to choose between spirituality and psychological understanding. We can hold both.
We can say:
This experience is meaningful to me.
And also:
I don’t necessarily know exactly what caused it.
That space between certainty and dismissal can be a very healthy place to explore.
The spiritual dimension
Throughout human history, people have described experiences in which their ordinary sense of self seems to dissolve and something much larger is encountered.
Mystical traditions have given these experiences many different names. Some speak of oneness. Some speak of unity consciousness. Some describe a connection with the Divine. Others speak of the Soul, higher consciousness, universal awareness or simply a profound experience of being completely present.
Whether we understand such experiences spiritually, psychologically, neurologically or through a combination of these perspectives, they can raise profound questions about what consciousness actually is.
Are we simply the thoughts we think? Are we more than our individual story? What happens when the boundaries of our usual identity become less fixed?
And perhaps most importantly:
Who are we when we become quiet enough to experience ourselves beyond our usual narrative?
The journey back matters too. There can be a temptation within spiritual culture to seek the next extraordinary experience — the deeper meditation, the bigger awakening, the higher state of consciousness. But I wonder whether the real invitation is sometimes much simpler. Perhaps the purpose of touching a different state of consciousness is not to escape ordinary life, but to return to it differently.
To become a little kinder.
A little more aware.
A little less identified with our fears.
More able to listen.
More able to sit with uncertainty.
More able to recognise the sacredness of ordinary moments.
The experience may last for a few minutes.
The insight may arrive in an instant.
But integration can take a lifetime.
And perhaps that is where the real work of consciousness begins.
A few questions to reflect upon
Have you ever experienced a state in which your ordinary sense of yourself seemed to change?
What was happening when it occurred?
Did you experience a different sense of time, self, connection or awareness?
What meaning did you give the experience at the time?
And, perhaps most importantly:
Did anything change in the way you lived afterwards?
Because ultimately, I think this is where the exploration of consciousness becomes deeply human. We don’t have to explain every experience. We don’t have to label it. And we don’t have to decide whether it was psychological, neurological or spiritual. Sometimes we can simply remain curious.
Perhaps consciousness is much larger and more mysterious than we currently understand.
And perhaps the journey is not about finding all the answers but becoming willing to ask better questions.
Linda Bishopp August 2026