Mark Green's Atheopaganism Blog

Fire circle rituals. Punk rock mosh pits. Raves. Ordeal rites. BDSM practices.

And drugs, of course.

State of consciousness is a function of brain operation, mostly through the varying levels of several key neurotransmitters (examples being the mood-regulating and executive-functioning neurotransmitters serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine). So to change our state of consciousness to an “alternative” one from our ordinary state of awareness, humans conduct activities like those listed above to alter the levels of these neurotransmitters,

Why we do this is a mystery, but we clearly have a predilection for altered states of consciousness, from little children spinning around until they are dizzy to adults taking intoxicants, performing extreme feats of physical exertion that make them “high”, etc. And we are not alone: many creatures throughout the animal kingdom avail themselves of ways to alter their consciousness, from birds growing drunk on fermented fruits to dolphins passing around toxic pufferfish that get them high.

One of the ways we can transform our consciousness is through application of bodily stress. Fasting, sleep deprivation, extreme exertion and even experience of pain can help to break down our ordinary modes of seeing the world and the psychological structures we have in place to maintain “normality”. This has practical applications in spiritual expression and transformation, the term used for which is often ecstasy.

Singing, dancing, drumming, intoxicating substances and physical ordeals are all paths to transformation of consciousness and often of catharsis, which is defined as the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.

We conduct rituals for catharsis: funerals, for instance, to help us to come to terms with our grief. One of the critiques I have of traditional western/American funeral traditions is that they are built on an expectation that attendees not express deep emotion: that, though they may leak a few tears, they will not wail, sob, and flail about, as is natural when in a state of great emotional pain.

This brings me to a new concept I came across recently; the grief rave. The idea of an intensive group full-bodied dance experience as a ritual for observing a death or loss and finding catharsis from the pain is a compelling, intelligent and, to me, natural one. Engagement of the entire self rather than repression and containment presents an opportunity for each person to undergo the emotional process they need in a safe environment.

As humans, and even pre-humans, we have been dancing–especially around fires–since time immemorial. In the flickering light of flame we have moved our celebration, our agony, our lament, our joy. We have witnessed one another as we change from youth to adulthood, from singleness to partnership, from productive contributor to wise elder.

These have been our ways for a very long time, but in Western societies, somehow we lost many of them, or saw them watered down to the very minimal vestiges of what were once full-throated, alive traditions and practices. We lost our mojo, our juju, our elan, our capacity to live out loud, trading them for “dignity” and “respectability” in the eyes of judgmental others. It is a tragic loss and it is a core element, I believe, of the brokenness in so many Western people, as reflected in everything from their private sense of loneliness and meaninglessness to their ability to tolerate and perpetrate hideous abuses against those their societies define as “Other”.

As Atheopagans, we’re doing our best to live out loud again, and to stand for a world in which each of us is celebrated for who they are. And that requires us, when the moment calls, to stand up and roar about what is within us.

These transformative ecstatic states, be they triggered by practices or chemical stimulation of the body, can teach us things about ourselves, help us to heal prior woundedness, open our eyes to the beauty and magic of the world in which we live and the people who surround us.

I love the idea of a grief rave, wherein each attendee brings music that speaks to their experience of what has been lost, and all collectively move their bodies to this music. How better, really, to express the desolation, the horror, the profound sadness of loss?

I know people who have healed tremendously through experience of BDSM sexual rites–healed and found liberation from sexual abuse, healed and found new-found confidence in who they are, healed and found a new relationship to their own power and ability to make choices and set boundaries. Whether it is in surrender or in assertion of dominance, these folk suffered before finding these practices, and with them, stirred the chemical pot in their minds to create lasting and positive change.

It takes great courage to face these wounds. Meaningful rituals require some degree of bravery, because in them we allow ourselves to transform into something new.

This kind of altered consciousness is usually associated with pleasure and/or joy. And this creates a danger: a danger of being tempted to go back to that state again and again, to addictively repeat the practice/take the drug/etc. for the good feeling.

There’s nothing wrong with good feelings–quite the contrary, pleasure is good and good for you–but we must be careful that we do not fall into a hole of repeatedly seeking that peak moment of ecstasy long after the meaning has been wrung from it, just for the pleasure alone. When we choose to alter our consciousness, let us do it in full awareness of both its potential positive and negative outcomes.

And in safety, of course.

An effective ritual isn’t an intellectual exercise. It’s a felt emotional journey. So think about this as you design your rituals: how do we engage the full body? How do we open the self to new experiences and emotional vulnerability?

Sometimes it may be as simple as a room with low and colorful lighting, a sound system and an invocation of purpose.

Illustrations from the Wildwood Tarot by Mark Ryan, John Matthews and Will Worthington