We might even find that the altered state is engaged when we are involved in activities that bring about what Csikszentmihalyi (1990) has identified as a condition of Flow, when the challenge of a setting is matched by sufficient support. Perhaps this state is even entered when we find ourselves in Awe of something magnificent (large, beautiful, complex, surprising) (Keltner, 2023). Furthermore, the altered state might be enhanced by its alignment with what Eugene Gendlin (Gendlin, 1986) calls the distinctive behavioral/body patterns to be found in each of us. Our embodiment of certain behaviors is to be found not only in our waking life, but also in our dreams. When we feel and act empowered when awake and when asleep, there are likely to be more moments when we engage in activities that generate Flow. There might be a form of synergy and resonance that is created when our behavioral/body patterns align with the desires and needs we experience in both our waking and sleeping lives.
At a more mundane (and often destructive) level, we could be producing an altered state when intoxicated (through use of alcohol, drugs, or other mind-altering substances) or engaged in a compulsive act (such as gambling, obsessive buying, or excessive eating). While these states can provide relief and even enthrallment for a short period of time, they ultimately dampen our capacity to experience real Awe and Flow. As Gerald May (2007) has noted, we may be seeking these false mind- altering states precisely to avoid or block out those experiences that are more “awe-filled”, profound, and often sacred (Otto, 1923/1950).
At one extreme end of the spectrum are those theorists and researchers who believe that dreams are nothing more than random firings of neurons that are unregulated while we are asleep. A little further down the spectrum comes the perspective that dreams are the brain’s way of making sense of random neutral activity during sleep. The remarkable feature of dreams is not that important themes and insights are embedded in them when they are being produced, but that we human beings are truly remarkable meaning-makers and story-constructors when confronted with ambiguous stimuli. We do a damned good job of producing stories when given ink blots to “interpret” and can do an even better job of producing stories when waking from sleep and in a drowsy state, “create” our dreams.
The theorists and researchers who take a naturalistic perspective often seek to demonstrate that dreams are simply (and wonderfully) manifestations of neuropsychological functions. These same functions yield many other fascinating products, including daydreams, vivid images of entities and events that aren’t really present in our world (the “unicorn” capacity). We create clear images even when no clear images seem apparent (the “ink blot” capacity). Our talents in telling stories around a fire are legendary. These stories concern people, other entities, and events from the past that may or may not have actually occurred but certainly occurred in a somewhat different form prior to the fireside chat. Even more fundamentally, we can turn simply to human beings as meaning-makers (homo sapiens) and the participants in play (homo ludens) (Huizinga, 2008).
Yet other researchers approach the biological nature of dreams by trying to find parallels to dysfunctional dreaming in the dysfunction of other bodily functions. Mark Solms, for instance, has set aside his own psychoanalytic training to focus on the relationship between brain functioning and dreaming. In his book, The Neuropsychology of Dreams, Solms (2015) applies what is called a “clinical -anatomical method” in his study of dreams. Having studied the impact of brain dysfunctions on dream disorders, Solms arrives at the tentative conclusion that dreams are linked to specific brain functions and that dreams may reflect underlying neurological conditions.
