Milton H. Erickson
Autohypnotic Experiences of Milton H. Erickson
From:
The Collected Papers of Milton H. Erickson,
Volume I; Irvington Publishers, 1980)
On one occasion Erickson was doing some exprimental work with K on stopped
vision (Erickson, l967), wherein she exprienced being in "the middle of
nowhere." Erickson recalled the following:
E:
I was in the backyard a year ago in the summertime. I was wondering what
far-out experiences I'd like to have. Yes I puzzled over that, I noticed
that I was sitting out in the middle of nowhere. I was an object in space.
K: There you have it: the middle of nowhere.
E: I was just an object in space. Of all the buildings I couldn't see an
outline. I couldn't see the chair in which I was sitting; in fact, I couldn't
feel it.
R: You spontaneously experienced that vision?
E: It was the most far-out thing I could do!
R: That was the most far-out thing you could do?
E: You can't get more far-out than that!
R: It just happened to you as you were wondering about what you could do?
E: Yes.
R: An unconscious responding?
E: And that was my unconscious' full response.
R: I see; you can't get more far-out than that.
E: What more far-out could happen?
K: You were just floating or just a nothingness?
E: I was just an object and all alone with me was an empty void. No buildings,
earth, stars, sun.
K: What emotions did you experience? Did you ------- curiosity or fear or
apprehension?
E: It was one of the most pleasing experiences. What is this? Tremendous
comfort. I knew that I was doing something far-out. And I was really doing
it! And what greater joy is there than doing what you want to do? Inside
the stars, the planets, the beaches. I couldn't feel the weight. I couldn't
feel the earth. No matter how much I pushed down my feet, I couldn't feel
anything.
R: That sounds like a spontaneous experience of nirvana or samadhi where
in Indian yogis say they experience "the void." You feel that is so?
E: Yes. The far-out experience of negating all reality-related stimuli.
R: That's what the yogis train themselves to do.
E: Yes, just negating the stimuli from the reality objects.
K: You found that pleasurable?
E: I always find when I can do something, it's pleasurable.
A
Special Inquiry with Aldous Huxley into the Nature and Character of Various States of Consciousness
by
Milton H. Erickson, MD
(From:
The collected papers of Milton H. Erickson, volume I; Irvington Publishers
1980; p. 83)
INTRODUCTION
Over
a period of nearly a year much time was spent by Aldous Huxley and the author,
each planning separately for a joint inquiry into various states of psychological
awareness. Special inquiries, possible methods of experimental approach,
and investigations and various questions to be propounded were listed by
each of us in our respective loose-leaf notebooks. The purpose was to prepare
a general background for the proposed joint study, with this general background
reflecting the thinking of both of us uninfluenced by another. It was hoped
in this way to secure the widest possible coverage of ideas by such separate
outlines prepared from the markedly different backgrounds of understanding
that the two of us possessed.
Early in 1950 we met in Huxley's home in Los Angeles, there to spend an
intensive day appraising the ideas recorded in our separate notebooks and
to engage in any experimental inquiries that seemed feasible. I was particularly
interested in Huxley's approach to psychological problems, his method of
thinking, and his own unique use of his unconscious mind, which we had discussed
only briefly sometime previously. Huxley was particularly interested in
hypnosis, and previous exceedingly brief work with him had demonstrated
his excellent competence as a deep somnambulistic subject.
It was realized that this meeting would be a preliminary or pilot study,
and this was discussed by both of us. Hence we planned to make it as comprehensive
and inclusive as possible without undue emphasis upon completion of any
one particular item. Once the day's work had been evaluated, plans could
then be made for future meetings and specific studies. Additionally we each
had our individual purposes—Aldous having in mind future literary work,
while my interest related to future psychological experimentation in the
field of hypnosis.
The
day's work began at 8:00 A.M. and remained uninterrupted until 6:00 P.M.
with some considerable review of our notebooks the next day to establish
their general agreement, to remove any lack of clarity of meaning caused
by the abbreviated notations we had entered into them during the previous
day's work, and to correct any oversights. On the whole we found that our
notebooks were reasonably in agreement, but that naturally certain of our
entries were reflective of our special interests and of the fact that each
of us had, by the nature of the situation, made separate notations bearing
upon each other.
Our plan was to leave these notebooks with Huxley, since his phenomenal
memory, often appearing to be total recall, and his superior literary ability
would permit a more satisfactory writing of a joint article based upon our
discussions and experimentations of that day's work. However, I did abstract
from my notebook certain pages bearing notations upon Huxley's behavior
at times when he, as an experimental subject, was unable to make comprehensive
notations on himself, although postexperimentally he could and did do so,
though less completely than I had. It was proposed that from these certain
special pages I was to endeavor to develop an article which could be incorporated
later in the longer study that Huxley was to write. Accordingly I abstracted
a certain number of pages, intending to secure still more at a later date.
These pages that I did remove Huxley rapidly copied into his own notebook
to be sure of the completeness of his data.
Unfortunately a California brushfire later destroyed Huxley's home, his
extensive library containing many rare volumes and manuscripts, besides
numerous other treasures to say nothing of the manuscripts upon which Huxley
was currently working as well as the respective notebooks of our special
joint study. As a result the entire subject matter of our project was dropped
as a topic too painful to discuss, but Huxley's recent death led to my perusal
of these relatively few pages I had abstracted from my notebook. Examination
of them suggested the possibility of presenting to the reader a small but
informative part of that day's work. In this regard the reader must bear
in mind that the quotations attributed to Huxley are not necessarily verbatim,
since his more extensive utterances were noted in abbreviated form. However,
in the essence of their meaning they are correct, and they are expressive
of Huxley as I knew him. It is also to be borne in mind that Huxley had
read my notations on the occasion of our joint study and had approved them.
PROJECT
INITIATION
The
project began with Huxley reviewing concepts and definitions of conscious
awareness, primarily his and in part those of others, followed by a discussion
with me of his understandings of hypnotic states of awareness. The purpose
was to insure that we were both in accord or clear in our divergences of
understanding, thus to make possible a more reliable inquiry into the subject
matter of our interest.
There followed then a review in extensive detail of various of his psychedelic
experiences with mescaline, later to be recorded in his book (The Doors
of Perception. New York: Harper, 1954).
Huxley then proceeded with a detailed description of his very special practice
of what he, for want of a better and less awkward term which he had not
yet settled upon, called "Deep Reflection." He described this state
(the author's description is not complete, since there seemed to be no good
reason except interest for making full notations of his description) of
Deep Reflection as one marked by physical relaxation with bowed head and
closed eyes, a profound, progressive, psychological withdrawal from externalities
but without any actual loss of physical realities nor any amnesias or loss
of orientation, a "setting aside" of everything not pertinent, and
then a state of complete mental absorption in matters of interest
to him. Yet in that state of complete withdrawal and mental absorption Huxley
stated that he was free to pick up a fresh pencil to replace a dulled one,
to make notations on his thoughts "automatically", and to do all this without
a recognizable realization on his part of what physical act he was performing.
It was as if the physical act were "not an integral part of my thinking".
In no way did such physical activity seem to impinge upon, to slow, or to
impede "the train of thought so exclusively occupying my interest. It is
associated but completely peripheral activity.... I might say activity barely
contiguous to the periphery." To illustrate further Huxley cited an instance
of another type of physical activity. He recalled having been in a state
of Deep Reflection one day when his wife was shopping. He did not recall
what thoughts or ideas he was examining, but he did recall that, when his
wife returned that day, she had asked him if he had made a note of the special
message she had given him over the telephone. He had been bewildered by
her inquiry, could not recall anything about answering the telephone as
his wife asserted, but together they found the special message recorded
on a pad beside the telephone, which was placed within comfortable reaching
distance from the chair in which he liked to develop Deep Reflection. Both
he and his wife reached the conclusion that he had been in a state of Deep
Reflection at the time of the telephone call, had lifted the receiver, and
had said to her as usual, "I say there, hello," had listened to the message,
had recorded it, all without any subsequent recollections of the experience.
He recalled merely that he had been working on a manuscript that afternoon,
one that had been absorbing all of his interest. He explained that it was
quite common for him to initiate a day's work by entering a state of Deep
Reflection as a preliminary process of marshalling his thoughts and putting
into order the thinking that would enter into his writing later that day.
As still another illustrative incident Huxley cited an occasion when his
wife returned home from a brief absence, found the door locked as was customary,
entered the house, and discovered in plain view a special delivery letter
on a hallway table reserved for mail, special messages, etc. She had found
Huxley sitting quietly in his special chair, obviously in a state of deep
thought. Later that day she had inquired about the time of arrival of the
special delivery letter, only to learn that he had obviously no recollection
of receiving any letter. Yet both knew that the mailman had undoubtedly
rung the doorbell, that Huxley had heard the bell, had interrupted whatever
he was doing, had gone to the door, opened it, received the letter, closed
the door, placed the letter in its proper place, and returned to the chair
where she had found him.
Both of these two special events had occurred fairly recently. He recalled
them only as incidents related to him by his wife but with no feeling that
those accounts constituted a description of actual meaningful physical behavior
on his part. So far as he knew, he could only deduce that he must have been
in a state of Deep Reflection when they occurred.
His wife subsequently confirmed the assumption that his behavior had been
completely "automatic, like a machine moving precisely and accurately. It
is a delightful pleasure to see him get a book out of the bookcase, sit
down again, open the book slowly, pick up his reading glass, read a little,
and then lay the book and glass aside. Then some time later, maybe a few
days, he will notice the book and ask about it. The man just never remembers
what he does or what he thinks about when he sits in that chair. All of
a sudden you just find him in his study working very hard."
In other words, while in a state of Deep Reflection and seemingly totally
withdrawn from external realities, the integrity of the task being done
in that mental state was touched by external stimuli, but some peripheral
part of awareness made it possible for him to receive external stimuli,
to respond meaningfully to them but with no apparent recording of any memory
of either the stimulus or his meaningful and adequate response. Inquiry
of his wife later had disclosed that when she was at home, Aldous in a state
of Deep Reflection paid no attention to the telephone, which might be beside
him, or the doorbell. "He simply depends completely on me, but I can call
out to him that I'll be away and he never fails to hear the telephone or
the doorbell."
Huxley explained that he believed he could develop a state of Deep Reflection
in about five minutes, but that in doing so he "simply cast aside all anchors"
of any type of awareness. Just what he meant and sensed he could not describe.
"It is a subjective experience quite" in which he apparently achieved a
state of "orderly mental arrangement" permitting an orderly free flowing
of his thoughts as he wrote. This was his final explanation. He had never
considered any analysis of exactly what his Deep Reflection was, nor did
he feel that he could analyze it, but he offered to attempt it as an experimental
investigation for the day. It was promptly learned that as he began to absorb
himself in his thoughts to achieve a state of Deep Reflection, he did indeed
"cast off all anchors" and appeared to be completely out of touch
with everything. On this attempt to experience subjectively and to remember
the processes of entering into Deep Reflection, he developed the state within
five minutes and emerged from it within two, as closely as I could determine.
His comment was, "I say, I'm deucedly sorry. I suddenly found myself all
prepared to work with nothing to do, and I realized I had better come out
of it." That was all the information he could offer. For the next attempt
a signal to be given by me was agreed upon as a signal for him to "come
out of it." A second attempt was made as easily as the first. Huxley sat
quietly for some minutes, and the agreed upon signal was given. Huxley's
account was, "I found myself just waiting for something. I did not know
what. It was just a 'something' that I seemed to feel would come in what
seemed to be a timeless, spaceless void. I say, that's the first
time I noted that feeling. Always I've had some thinking to do. But this
time I seemed to have no work in hand. I was just completely disinterested,
indifferent, just waiting for something, and then I felt a need to come
out of it. I say, did you give me the signal?"
Inquiry disclosed that he had no apparent memory of the stimulus being given.
He had had only the "feeling" that it was time to "come out of it".
Several more repetitions yielded similar results. A sense of a timeless,
spaceless void, a placid, comfortable awaiting for an undefined "something,"
and a comfortable need to return to ordinary conscious awareness constituted
the understandings achieved. Huxley summarized his findings briefly as "a
total absence of everything on the way there and on the way back and
an expected meaningless something for which one awaits in a state of Nirvana
since there is nothing more to do." He asserted his intention to make a
later intensive study of this practice he found so useful in his writing.
Further
experiments were done after Huxley had explained that he could enter the
state of deep reflection with the simple undefined understanding that he
would respond to any "significant stimulus." Without informing him of my
intentions, I asked him to "arouse" (this term is my own) when three taps
of a pencil on a chair were given in close succession. He entered the sate
of reflection readily, and after a brief wait I tapped the table with a
pencil in varying fashions at distinct but irregular intervals. Thus I tapped
once, paused, then twice in rapid succession, paused, tapped once, paused,
tapped four times in rapid succession, paused, then five times in rapid
succession. Numerous variations were tried but with an avoidance of the
agreed upon signal. A chair was knocked over with a crash while four taps
were given. Not until the specified three taps were given did he make any
response. His arousal occurred slowly with almost an immediate response
to the signal. Huxley was questioned about his subjective experiences. He
explained simply that they had been the same as previously with one exception,
namely that several times he had a vague sensation that "something was coming,"
but he knew not what. He had no awareness of what had been done.
Further
experimentation was done in which he was asked to enter Deep Reflection
and to sense color, a prearranged signal for arousing being that of a handshake
of his right hand. He complied readily, and when I judged that he was fully
absorbed in his state of reflection, I shook his left hand vigorously then
followed this with a hard pinching of the back of both hands that left deep
fingernail markings. Huxley made no response to this physical stimulation,
although his eyes were watched for possible eyeball movements under the
lids, and his respiratory and pulse rates were checked for any changes.
However, after about a minute he slowly drew his arms back along the arms
of the chair where he had placed them before beginning his reflection state.
They moved slowly about an inch, and then all movement ceased. He was aroused
easily and comfortably at the designated signal.
His
subjective report was simply, that he had "lost" himself in a "sea of color,"
of "sensing," "feeling," "being" color, of being "quite utterly involved
in it with no identity of your own, you know." Then suddenly he had experienced
a process of losing that color in a "meaningless void," only to open his
eyes and to realize that he had "come out of it."
He
remembered the agreed upon stimulus but did not recall if it had been given.
"I can only deduce it was given from the fact that I'm out of it," and indirect
questioning disclosed no memories of the other physical stimuli administered.
Neither was there an absent minded looking at nor robbing of the backs of
his hands.
This same procedure in relation to color was repeated but to it was added,
as he seemed to be reaching the state of deep reflection, a repeated, insistent
urging that upon arousal he discuss a certain book which was carefully placed
in full view. The results were comparable to the preceding findings. He
became "lost," . . . "quite utterly involved in it," . . . "one can sense
it but not describe it,". . . "I say, it's an utterly amazing, fascinating
state of finding yourself a pleasant part of an endless vista of color that
is soft and gentle and yielding and all absorbing. Utterly extraordinary,
most extraordinary." He had no recollection of my verbal insistences nor
of the other physical stimuli. He remembered the agreed upon signal but
did not know if it had been given. He found himself only in a position of
assuming that it had been given since he was again in a state of ordinary
awareness. The presence of the book meant nothing to him. One added statement
was that entering a state of Deep Reflection by absorbing himself in a sense
of color was in a fashion comparable to, but not identical with, his psychedelic
experiences.
As
a final inquiry Huxley was asked to enter the reflection state for the purpose
of recalling the telephone call and the special delivery letter incidents.
His comment was that such a project should be "quite fruitful." Despite
repeated efforts he would "come out of it," explaining, "There I found myself
without anything to do, so I came out of it." His memories were limited
to the accounts given to him by his wife, and all details were associated
with her and not with any inner feelings of experience on his part.
A
final effort was made to discover whether or not Huxley could include another
person in his state of Deep Reflection. This idea interested him at once,
and it was suggested that he enter the reflection state to review some of
his psychedelic experiences. This he did in a most intriguing fashion. As
the reflection state developed, Huxley in an utterly detached dissociated
fashion began making fragmentary remarks, chiefly in the form of self addressed
comments. Thus he would say, making fragmentary notes with a pencil and
paper quickly supplied to him, "most extraordinary . . . I overlooked that.
. . How? . . . Strange I should have forgotten that [making a notation]....
fascinating how different in appears ... I must look...."
When
he aroused, he had a vague recollection of having reviewed a previous psychedelic
experience, but what he had experienced then or on the immediate occasion
he could not recall. Nor did he recall speaking aloud or making notations.
When shown these, he found that they were so poorly written that they could
not be read. I read mine to him without eliciting any memory traces.
A
repetition yielded similar results, with one exception. This was an amazed
expression of complete astonishment by Huxley suddenly declaring, "I say,
Milton, this is quite utterly amazing, most extraordinary. I use Deep Reflection
to summon my memories, to put into order all of my thinking, to explore
the range, the extent of my mental existence, but I do it solely to let
those realizations, the thinking, the understandings, the memories seep
into the work I'm planning to do without my conscious awareness of them.
Fascinating . . . never stopped to realize that my Deep Reflection always
preceded a period of intensive work wherein I was completely absorbed....
I say, no wonder I have an amnesia. "
Later,
when we were examining each other's notebooks, Huxley manifested intense
amazement and bewilderment at what I had recorded about the physical stimuli
for which he had no memory of any sort. He knew that he had gone into Deep
Reflection repeatedly at my request, had been both pleased and amazed at
his subjective feelings of being lost in an all absorbing sea of color,
had sensed a certain timelessness and spacelessness, and had experienced
a comfortable feeling of something meaningful about to happen. He reread
my notations repeatedly in an endeavor to develop some kind of a feeling
or at least a vague memory of subjective awareness of the various physical
stimuli I had given him. He also looked at the backs of his hands to see
the pinch marks, but they had vanished. His final comment was, ". . . extraordinary,
most extraordinary, I say, utterly fascinating."
When
we agreed that at least for the while further inquiry into Deep Reflection
might be postponed until later, Huxley declared again that his sudden realization
of how much he had used it and how little he knew about it made him resolve
to investigate much further into his Deep Reflection. The manner and means
by which he achieved it, how it constituted a form of preparation for absorbing
himself in his writing, and in what way it caused him to lose unnecessary
contact with reality were all problems of much interest to him.
Huxley then suggested that an investigation be made of hypnotic states of
awareness by employing him as a subject. He asked permission to be allowed
to interrupt his trance states at will for purposes of discussion. This
was in full accord with my own wishes.
He
asked that first a light trance be induced, perhaps repeatedly, to permit
an exploration of his subjective experiences. Since he had briefly been
a somnambulistic subject previously, he was carefully assured that this
fact could serve to make him feel confident in arresting his trance states
at any level he wished. He did not recognize this as a simple direct hypnotic
suggestion. In reading my notebook later he was much amused at how easily
he had accepted an obvious suggestion without recognizing its character
at the time.
He found several repetitions of the light trance interesting but "too easily
conceptualized." It is, he explained, "A simple withdrawal of interest from
the outside to the inside." That is, one gives less and less attention to
externalities and directs more and more attention to inner subjective sensations.
Externalities become increasingly fainter and more obscure, inner subjective
feelings more satisfying until a state of balance exists. In this state
of balance he had the feeling that with motivation he could "reach out and
seize upon reality," that there is a definite retention of a grasp upon
external reality but with no motivation to deal with it. Neither did he
feel a desire to deepen the trance. No particular change in this state of
balance seemed necessary, and he noted that a feeling of contentment and
relaxation accompanied it. He wondered if others experienced the same subjective
reactions.
Huxley
requested that the light trance be induced by a great variety of techniques,
some of them nonverbal. The results in each instance, Huxley felt strongly,
were dependent entirely upon his mental set. He found that he could accept
"drifting along" (my phrase) in a light trance, receptive of suggestions
involving primarily responses at a subjective level only. He found that
an effort to behave in direct relationship to the physical environment taxed
his efforts and made him desire either to arouse from the trance or to go
still deeper. He also on his own initiative set up his own problems to test
his trance states. Thus before entering the light trance he would privately
resolve to discuss a certain topic, relevant or irrelevant, with me at the
earliest possible time or even at a fairly remote time. In such instances
Huxley found such unexpressed desires deleterious to the maintenance of
the trance. Similarly any effort to include an item of reality not pertinent
to his sense of subjective satisfaction lessened the trance.
At
all times there persisted a "dim but ready" awareness that one could alter
the state of awareness at will. Huxley, like others with whom I have done
similar studies, felt an intense desire to explore his sense of subjective
comfort and satisfaction but immediately realized that this would lead to
a deeper trance state.
When Huxley was asked to formulate understandings of the means he could
employ by which he could avoid going into more than a light trance, he stated
that he did this by setting a given length of time during which he would
remain in a light trance. This had the effect of making him more strongly
aware that at any moment he could "reach out and seize external reality"
and that his sense of subjective comfort and ease decreased. Discussion
of this and repeated experimentation disclosed that carefully worded suggestions
serving to emphasize the availability of external reality and to enhance
subjective comfort could serve to deepen the trance, even though Huxley
was fully cognizant of what was being said and why. Similar results have
been obtained with other highly intelligent subjects.
In
experimenting with medium deep trances Huxley, like other subjects with
whom I have worked, experienced much more difficulty in reacting to and
maintaining a fairly constant trance level. He found that he had a subjective
need to go deeper in the trance and an intellectual need to stay at the
medium level. The result was that he found himself repeatedly "reaching
out for awareness" of his environment, and this would initiate a light trance.
He would then direct his attention to subjective comfort and find himself
developing a deep trance. Finally, after repeated experiments, he was given
both posthypnotic and direct hypnotic suggestion to remain in a medium deep
trance. This he found he could do with very little concern. He described
the medium trance as primarily characterized by a most pleasing subjective
sense of comfort and a vague, dim, faulty awareness that there was an external
reality for which he felt a need for considerable motivation to be able
to examine it. However, if he attempted to examine even a single item of
reality for its intrinsic value, the trance would immediately become increasingly
lighter. On the other hand, when he examined an item of external reality
for subjective values—for example the soft comfort of the chair cushions
as contrasted to the intrinsic quiet of the room—the trance became deeper.
But both light and deep trances were characterized by a need to sense external
reality in some manner, not necessarily clearly but nevertheless to retain
some recognizable awareness of it.
For
both typos of trance experiments were carried out to discover what hypnotic
phenomena could be elicited in both light and medium deep trances. This
same experiment has been done with other good subjects, with subjects who
consistently developed only a light trance, and with those who consistently
did not seem to be able to go further than the medium trance. In all such
studies the findings were the same, the most important seeming to be the
need of light and medium deep hypnotic subjects to retain at least some
grasp upon external reality and to orient their trance state as a state
apart from external reality—but with the orientation to such reality, however
tenuous in character, sensed as available for immediate utilization by the
subject.
Another
item which Huxley discovered by his own efforts, and of which I was fully
aware through work with other subjects, was that the phenomena of deep hypnosis
can be developed in both the light and the medium trances. Huxley, having
observed deep hypnosis, wondered about the possibility of developing hallucinatory
phenomena in the light trance. He attempted this by the measure of enjoying
his subjective state of physical comfort and adding to it an additional
subjective quality—namely, a pleasant gustatory sensation. He found it quite
easy to hallucinate vividly various taste sensations while wondering vaguely
what I would think if I knew what he were doing. He was not aware of his
increased swallowing when he did this. From gustatory sensations he branched
out to olfactory hallucinations both pleasant and unpleasant. He did not
realize the he betrayed this by the flaring of his nostrils. His thinking
at the time, so he subsequently explained, was that he had the "feeling"
that hallucinations of a completely "inner type of process"—that is, occurring
within the body itself—would be easier than those in which the hallucination
appeared to be external to the body. From olfactory hallucinations he progressed
to kinesthetic, proprioceptive, and finally tactile sensations. In the kinesthetic
hallucinatory sensation experience he hallucinated taking a long walk but
remained constantly aware that I was present in some vaguely sensed room.
Momentarily he would forget about me, and his hallucinated walking would
become most vivid. He recognized this as an indication of the momentary
development of a deeper trance state, which he felt obligated to remember
to report to me during the discussion after his arousal. He was not aware
of respiratory and pulse changes during the hallucinatory walk.
When
he first tried for visual and auditory hallucinations, he found them much
more difficult, and the effort tended to lighten and to abolish his trance
state. He finally reasoned that if he could hallucinate rhythmical movements
of his body, he could then "attach" an auditory hallucination to this hallucinated
body sensation. The measure proved most successful, and again he caught
himself wondering if I could hear the music. His breathing rate changed,
and slight movements of his head were observed. From simple music he proceeded
to a hallucination of opera singing and then finally a mumbling of words
which eventually seemed to become my voice questioning him about Deep Reflection.
I could not recognize what was occurring.
From
this he proceeded to visual hallucinations. An attempt to open his eyes
nearly aroused him from his trance state. Thereafter he kept his eyes closed
for both light and medium deep trance activities. His first visual hallucination
was a vivid flooding of his mind with an intense sense of pastel colors
of changing hues and with a wavelike motion. He related this experience
to his Deep Reflection experiences with me and also to his previous psychedelic
experiences. He did not consider this experience sufficiently valid for
his purposes of the moment because he felt that vivid memories were playing
too large a part. Hence he deliberately decided to visualize a flower, but
the thought occurred to him that even as a sense of movement played a part
in auditory hallucinations, he might employ a similar measure to develop
a visual hallucination. At the moment, so he recalled after arousing from
the trance and while discussing his experience, he wondered if I had ever
built up hallucinations in my subjects by combining various sensory fields
of experience. I told him that that was a standard procedure for me.
He
proceeded with this visual hallucination by "feeling" his head turn from
side to side and up and down to follow a barely visible, questionably visible,
rhythmically moving object. Very shortly the object became increasingly
more visible until he saw a giant rose, possibly three feet in diameter.
This he did not expect, and thus he was certain at once that it was not
a vivified memory but a satisfactory hallucination. With this realization
came the insight that he might very well add to the hallucination by adding
olfactory hallucinations of an intense, "unroselike," sickeningly sweet
odor. This effort was also most successful. After experimenting with various
hallucinations, Huxley aroused from his trance and discussed extensively
what he had accomplished. He was pleased to learn that his experimental
findings without any coaching or suggestions from me were in good accord
with planned experimental findings with other subjects.
This
discussion raised the question of anaesthesia, amnesia, dissociation, depersonalization,
regression, time distortion, hypermnesia (an item difficult to test with
Huxley because of his phenomenal memory), and an exploration of past repressed
events.
Of
these Huxley found that anaesthesia, amnesia, time distortion, and hypermnesia
were possible in the light trance. The other phenomena were conducive to
the development of a deep trance with any earnest effort to achieve them.
The
anaesthesia he developed in the light trance was most effective for selective
parts of the body. When generalized anaesthesia from the neck down was attempted,
Huxley found himself "slipping" into a deep trance. The amnesia, like the
anaesthesia, was effective when selective in character. Any effort to have
a total amnesia resulted in a progression toward a deep trance.
Time
distortion was easily possible, and Huxley offered the statement that he
was not certain but that he felt strongly that he had long employed time
distortion in Deep Reflection, although his first formal introduction to
the concept had been through me.
Hypermnesia,
so difficult to test because of his extreme capacity to recall past events,
was tested upon my suggestion by asking him in the light trance state to
state promptly upon request on what page of various of his books certain
paragraphs could be found. At the first request Huxley aroused from the
light trance and explained, "Really now, Milton, I can't do that. I can
with effort recite most of that book, but the page number for a paragraph
is not exactly cricket." Nevertheless he went back into a light trance,
the name of the volume was given, a few lines of a paragraph were read aloud
to him, whereupon he was to give the page number on which it appeared. He
succeeded in identifying better than 65 percent in an amazingly prompt fashion.
Upon awakening from the light trance, he was instructed to remain in the
state of conscious awareness and to execute the same task. To his immense
astonishment he found that, while the page number "flashed" into his mind
in the light trance state, in the waking state he had to follow a methodical
procedure of completing the paragraph mentally, beginning the next, then
turning back mentally to the preceding paragraph, and then "making a guess."
When restricted to the same length of time he had employed in the light
trance, he failed in each instance. When allowed to take whatever length
of time he wished, he could reach an accuracy of about 40 per cent, but
the books had to be ones more recently read than those used for the light
trance state.
Huxley then proceeded to duplicate in the medium trance all that he had
done in the light trance. He accomplished similar tasks much more easily
but constantly experienced a feeling of "slipping" into a deeper trance.
Huxley
and I discussed this hypnotic behavior of his at very considerable length,
with Huxley making most of the notations since only he could record his
own subjective experience in relation to the topics discussed. For this
reason the discussion here is limited. We then turned to the question of
deep hypnosis. Huxley developed easily a profound somnambulistic trance
in which he was completely disoriented spontaneously for time and place.
He was able to open his eyes but described his field of vision as being
a "well of light" which included me, the chair in which I sat, himself,
and his chair. He remarked at once upon the remarkable spontaneous restriction
of his vision and disclosed an awareness that, for some reason unknown to
him, he was obligated to "explain things" to me. Careful questioning disclosed
him to have an amnesia about what had been done previously, nor did he have
any awareness of our joint venture. His feeling that he must explain things
became a casual willingness as soon as he verbalized it. One of his first
statements was, "Really, you know, I can't understand my situation or why
you are here, wherover that may be, but I must explain things to you." He
was assured that I understood the situation and that I was interested in
receiving any explanation he wished to give me and told that I might make
requests of him. Most casually, indifferently he acceded, but it was obvious
that he was enjoying a state of physical comfort in a contented, passive
manner.
He
answered questions simply and briefly, giving literally and precisely no
more and no less than the literal significance of the question implied.
In other words he showed the same precise literalness found in other subjects,
perhaps more so because of his knowledge of semantics.
He
was asked, "What is to my right?" His answer was simply, "I don't know."
"Why?" "I haven't looked." "Will you do so?" "Yes." "Now!" "How far do you
want me to look?" This was not an unexpected inquiry since I have encountered
it innumerable times. Huxley was simply manifesting a characteristic phenomenon
of the deep somnambulistic trance in which visual awareness is restricted
in some inexplicable manner to those items pertinent to the trance situation.
For each chair, couch, footstool I wished him to see specific instructions
were required. As Huxley explained later, "I had to look around until gradually
it [the specified object] slowly came into view, not all at once, but slowly,
as if it were materializing. I really believe that I felt completely at
ease without a trace of wonderment as I watched things materialize. I accepted
everything as a matter of course. " Similar explanations have been received
from hundreds of subjects. Yet experience has taught me the importance of
my assumption of the role of a purely passive inquirer, one who asks a question
solely to receive an answer regardless of its content. An intonation of
interest in the meaning of the answer is likely to induce subjects to respond
as if they had been given instructions concerning what answer to give. In
therapeutic work I use intonations to influence more adequate personal responses
by the patient.
With
Huxley I tested this by enthusiastically asking, "What, tell me now, is
that which is just about 15 feet in front of you?" The correct answer should
have been, "A table." Instead, the answer received was "A table with a book
and a vase on it." Both the book and the vase were on the table but on the
far side of the table and hence more than 15 feet away. Later the same inquiry
was made in a casual, indifferent fashion, "Tell me now, what is that just
about 15 feet in front of you?" He replied, despite his previous answer,
"A table." "Anything else?" "Yes." "What else?" "A book." [This was nearer
to him than was the vase.] "Anything else?" "Yes." "Tell me now." "A vase."
"Anything else?" "Yes." "Tell me now." "A spot." "Anything else?" "No."
This
literalness and this peculiar restriction of awareness to those items of
reality constituting the precise hypnotic situation is highly definitive
of a satisfactory somnambulistic hypnotic trance. Along with the visual
restriction there is also an auditory restriction of such character that
sounds, even those originating between the operator and the subject, seem
to be totally outside the hypnotic situation. Since there was no assistant
present, this auditory restriction could not be tested. However, by means
of a black thread not visible to the eye, a book was toppled from the table
behind him against his back. Slowly, as if he had experienced an itch, Huxley
raised his hand and scratched his shoulder. There was no startle reaction.
This, too, is characteristic of the response made to many unexpected physical
stimuli. They are interpreted in terms of past body experience. Quite frequently
as a part of developing a deep somnambulistic trance subjects will concomitantly
develop a selective general anaesthesia for physical stimuli not constituting
a part of the hypnotic situation, physical stimuli in particular that do
not permit interpretation in terms of past experience. This could not be
tested in the situation with Huxley, since an assistant is necessary to
make adequate tests without distorting the hypnotic situation. One illustrative
measure I have used is to pass a threaded needle through the coat sleeve
while positioning the arms, and then having an assistant saw back and forth
on the thread from a place of concealment. Often a spontaneous anaesthesia
would keep the subject unaware of the stimulus. Various simple measures
are easily devised.
Huxley
was then gently and indirectly awakened from the trance by the simple suggestion
that he adjust himself in his chair to resume the exact physical and mental
state he had had at the decision to discontinue until later any further
experimetal study of Deep Reflection.
Huxley's
response was an immediate arousal, and he promptly stated that he was all
set to enter deep hypnosis. While this statement in itself indicated profound
posthypnotic amnesia, delaying tactics were employed in the guise of discussion
of what might possibly be done. In this way it became possible to mention
various items of his deep trance behavior. Such mention evoked no memories,
and Huxley's discussion of the paints raised showed no sophistication resulting
from his deep trance behavior. He was as uninformed about the details of
his deep trance behavior as he had been before the deep trance had been
induced.
There
followed more deep trances by Huxley in which, avoiding all personal significances,
he was asked to develop partial, selective, and total posthypnotic amnesias
(by partial is meant a part of the total experience, by selective amnesia
is meant an amnesia for selected, perhaps interrelated items of experience),
a recovery of the amnestic material, and a loss of the recovered material.
He also developed catalepsy, tested by "arranging" him comfortably in a
chair and then creating a situation constituting a direct command to rise
from the chair ("take the book on that table there and place it on the desk
over there and do it now"). By this means Huxley found himself inexplicably
unable to arise from the chair and unable to understand why this was so.
(The "comfortable arrangement" of his body had resulted in a positioning
that would have to be corrected before he could arise from the chair, and
no implied suggestions for such correction were to be found in the instructions
given. Hence he sat helplessly, unable to stand and unable to recognize
why. This same measure has been employed to demonstrate a saddle block anaesthesia
before medical groups. The subject in the deep trance is carefully positioned,
a casual conversation is then conducted, the subject is then placed in rapport
with another subject, who is asked to exchange seats with the first subject.
The second subject steps over only to stand helplessly while the first subject
discovers that she is (1) unable to move, and (2) that shortly the loss
of inability to stand results in a loss of orientation to the lower part
of her body and a resulting total anaesthesia without anaesthesia having
been mentioned even in the preliminary discussion of hypnosis. This unnoticed
use of catalepsy not recognized by the subject is a most effective measure
in deepening trance states.
Huxley
was amazed at his loss of mobility and became even more so when he discovered
a loss of orientation to the lower part of his body, and he was most astonished
when I demonstrated for him the presence of a profound anaesthesia. He was
much at a loss to understand the entire sequence of events. He did not relate
the comfortable positioning of his body to the unobtrusively induced catalepsy
with its consequent anaesthesia.
He was aroused from the trance state with persistent catalepsy, anaesthesia,
and a total amnesia for all deep trance experiences. He spontaneously enlarged
the instruction to include all trance experiences, possibly because he did
not hear my instructions sufficiently clearly. Immediately he reoriented
himself to the time at which we had been working with Deep Reflection. He
was much at a loss to explain his immobile state, and he expressed curious
wonderment about what he had done in the Deep Reflection state, from which
he assumed he had just emerged, and what had led to such inexplicable manifestations
for the first time in all of his experience. He became greatly interested,
kept murmuring such comments as "most extraordinary" while he explored the
lower part of his body with his hands and eyes. He noted that he could tell
the position of his feet only with his eyes, that there was a profound immobility
from the waist down, and he discovered, while attempting futilely because
of the catalepsy to move his leg with his hands, that a state of anaesthesia
existed. This he tested variously, asking me to furnish him with various
things in order to make his test. For example he asked that ice be applied
to his bare ankle by me, since he could not bend sufficiently to do so.
Finally after much study he turned to me, remarking, "I say, you look cool
and most comfortable, while I am in a most extraordinary predicament. I
deduce that in some subtle way you have distracted and disturbed my sense
of body awareness. I say, is this state anything like hypnosis?' '
Restoration
of his memory delighted him, but he remained entirely at a loss concerning
the genesis of his catalepsy and his anaesthesia. He realized, however,
that some technique of communication had been employed to effect the results
achieved, but he did not succeed in the association of the positioning of
his body with the final results.
Further
experimentation in the deep trance investigated visual, auditory, and other
types of ideosensory hallucinations. One of the measures employed was to
pantomime hearing a door open and then to appear to see someone entering
the room, to arise in courtesy, and to indicate a chair, then to turn to
Huxley to express the hope that he was comfortable. He replied that he was,
and he expressed surprise at his wife's unexpected return, since he had
expected her to be absent the entire day. (The chair I had indicated was
one I knew his wife liked to occupy.) He conversed with her and apparently
hallucinated replies. He was interrupted with the question of how he knew
that it was his wife and not a hypnotic hallucination. He examined the question
thoughtfully, then explained that I had not given him any suggestion to
hallucinate his wife, that I had been as much surprised by her arrival as
he had been, and that she was dressed as she had been just before her departure
and not as I had seen her earlier. Hence it was reasonable to assume that
she was a reality. After a brief, thoughtful pause he returned to his "conversation"
with her, apparently continuing to hallucinate replies. Finally I attracted
his attention and made a hand gesture suggestive of a disappearance toward
the chair in which he "saw" his wife. To his complete astonishment he saw
her slowly fade away. Then he turned to me and asked that I awaken him with
a full memory of the experience. This I did, and he discussed the experience
at some length, making many special notations in his notebook and elaborating
them with the answers to questions he put to me. He was amazed to discover
that when I asked him to awaken with a retention of the immobility and anaesthesia,
he thought he had awakened but that the trance state had, to him, unrecognizably
persisted.
He then urged further work on hypnotic hallucinatory experiences and a great
variety (positive and negative visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile,
kinesthetic, temperature, hunger, satiety, fatigue, weakness, profound excited
expectation, etc.) were explored. He proved to be most competent in all
regards, and it was noted that his pulse rate would change as much as 20
points when he was asked to hallucinate the experience of mountain climbing
in a profound state of weariness. He volunteered in his discussion of these
varied experiences the information that while a negative hallucination could
be achieved readily in a deep trance, it would be most difficult in a light
or medium trance, because negative hallucinations were most destructive
of reality values, even those of the hypnotic situation. That is, with induced
negative hallucinations, he found that I was blurred in outline even though
he could develop a deep trance with a negative hallucination inherent in
that deep trance for all external reality except the realities of the hypnotic
situation, which would remain clear and well defined unless suggestions
to the contrary were offered. Subsequent work with other subjects confirmed
this finding by Huxley. I had not previously explored this matter of negative
hallucinations in light and medium trances.
At
this point Huxley recalled his page number identification in the lighter
trance states during the inquiry into hypermnesia, and he asked that he
be subjected to similar tests in deep hypnosis. Together we searched the
library shelves, finally selecting several books that Huxley was certain
he must have read many years previously but which he had not touched for
20 or more years. (One, apparently, he had never read; the other five he
had.)
In
a deep trance, with his eyes closed, Huxley listened intently as I opened
the book at random and read a half dozen lines from a selected paragraph.
For some, he identified the page number almost at once, and then he would
hallucinate the page and "read" it from the point where I had stopped. Additionally
he identified the occasion on which he read the book. Two of the books he
recalled consulting 15 years previously. Another two he found it difficult
to give the correct page number, and then only approximating the page number.
He could not hallucinate the printing and could only give little more than
a summary of the thought content; but this in essence was correct. He could
not identify when he had read them but was certain it was more than 25 years
previously.
Huxley,
in the post trance discussion was most amazed by his performance as a memory
feat but commented upon the experience as primarily intellectual, with the
recovered memories lacking in any emotional significances of belonging to
him as a person. This led to a general discussion of hypnosis and Deep Reflection,
with a general feeling of inadequacy on Huxley's part concerning proper
conceptualization of his experiences for comparison of values. While Huxley
was most delighted with his hypnotic experiences for their interest and
the new understandings they offered him, he was also somewhat at a loss.
He felt that as a purely personal experience he derived certain unidentifiable
subjective values from Deep Reflection not actually obtainable from hypnosis,
which offered only a wealth of new points of view. Deep Reflection, he declared,
gave him certain inner enduring feelings that seemed to play some significant
part in his pattern of living. During this discussion he suddenly asked
if hypnosis could be employed to permit him to explore his psychedelic experiences.
His request was met, but upon arousal from the trance he expressed the feeling
that the hypnotic experience was quite different from a comparable "feeling
through" by means of Deep Reflection. He explained that the hypnotic exploration
did not give him an inner feeling—that is, a continuing subjective feeling—of
just being in the midst of his psychedelic experience, that there was an
ordered intellectual content paralleling the "feeling content," while Deep
Reflection established a profound emotional background of a stable character
upon which he could "consciously and effortlessly lay an intellectual display
of ideas" to which the reader would make full response. This discussion
Huxley brought to a close by the thoughtful comment that his brief intensive
experience with hypnosis had not yet begun to digest and that he could not
expect to offer an intelligent comment without much more thought.
He asked urgently that further deep hypnosis be done with him in which more
complex phenomena be induced to permit him to explore himself more adequately
as a person. After a rapid mental review of what had been done and what
might yet be done I decided upon the desirability of a deep trance state
with the possibility of a two stage dissociative regression—that is, of
the procedure of regressing him by dissociating him from a selected recent
area of his life experience so that he could view it as an onlooker from
the orientation of another relatively recent area of life experience. The
best way to do this, I felt, would be by a confusion technique (See "The
confusion technique in hypnosis" in Section 2 of this volume). This decision
to employ a confusion technique was influenced in large part by the author's
awareness of Huxley's unlimited intellectual capacity and curiosity, which
would aid greatly by leading Huxley to add to the confusion technique verbalizations
other possible elaborate meanings and significances and associations, thereby
actually supplementing in effect my own efforts. Unfortunately there was
no tape recorder present to preserve the details of the actual suggestions,
which were to the effect that Huxley go ever deeper and deeper into a trance
until "the depth was a part and apart" from him, that before him would appear
in "utter clarity, in living reality, in impossible actuality, that which
once was, but which now in the depths of the trance, will, in bewildering
confrontation challenge all of your memories and understandings." This was
a purposely vague yet permissively comprehensive suggestion, and I simply
relied upon Huxley's intelligence to elaborate it with an extensive meaningfulness
for himself which I could not even attempt to guess. There were of course
other suggestions, but they centered in effect upon the suggestion enclosed
in the quotation above. What I had in mind was not a defined situation but
a setting of the stage so that Huxley himself would be led to define the
task. I did not even attempt to speculate upon what my suggestions might
mean to Huxley.
It
became obvious that Huxley was making an intensive hypnotic response during
the prolonged, repetitious suggestions I was offering, when suddenly he
raised his hand and said rather loudly and most urgently, "I say, Milton,
do you mind hushing up there. This is most extraordinarily interesting down
here, and your constant talking is frightfully distracting and annoying."
For
more than two hours Huxley sat with his eyes open, gazing intently before
him. The play of expression on his face was most rapid and bewildering.
His heart rate and respiratory rate were observed to change suddenly and
inexplicably and repeatedly at irregular intervals. Each time that the author
attempted to speak to him, Huxley would raise his hand, perhaps lift his
head, and speak as if the author were at some height above him, and frequently
he would annoyedly request silence.
After
well over two hours he suddenly looked up toward the ceiling and remarked
with puzzled emphasis, "I say, Milton, this is an extraordinary contretemps.
We don't know you. You do not belong here. You are sitting on the edge of
a ravine watching both of us, and neither of us knows which one is talking
to you; and we are in the vestibule looking at each other with most extraordinary
interest. We know that you are someone who can determine our identity, and
most extraordinarily we are both sure we know it and that the other is not
really so, but merely a mental image of the past or of the future. But you
must resolve it despite time and distances and even though we do not know
you. I say, this is an extraordinarily fascinating predicament: Am I he
or is he me? Come, Milton, whoever you are." There were other similar remarks
of comparable meaning which could not be recorded, and Huxley's tone of
voice suddenly became most urgent. The whole situation was most confusing
to me, but temporal and other types of dissociation seemed to be definitely
involved in the situation.
Wonderingly,
but with outward calm, I undertook to arouse Huxley from the trance state
by accepting the partial clues given and by saying in essence. "Wherover
you are, whatever you are doing, listen closely to what is being said and
slowly, gradually, comfortably begin to act upon it. Feel rested and comfortable,
feel a need to establish an increasing contact with my voice, with me with
the situation I represent, a need of returning to matters in hand with me
not so long ago, in the not so long ago belonging to me, and leave behind
but AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST practically everything of importance, KNOWING
BUT NOT KNOWING that it is AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST. And now, let us see,
that's right, you are sitting there, wide awake, rested, comfortable, and
ready for discussion of what little there is."
Huxley
aroused, rubbed his eyes, and remarked, "I have a most extraordinary feeling
that I have been in a profound trance, but it has been a most sterile experience.
I recall you suggesting that I go deeper in a trance, and I felt myself
to be most compliant, and though I feel much time has elapsed, I truly believe
a state of Deep Reflection would have been more fruitful."
Since
he did not specifically ask the time, a desultory conversation was conducted
in which Huxley compared the definite but vague appreciation of external
realities of the light trance with the more definitely decreased awareness
of externalities in the medium trance, which is accompanied by a peculiar
sense of minor comfort that those external realities can become secure actualities
at any given moment.
He
was then asked about realities in the deep trance from which he had just
recently aroused. He replied thoughtfully that he could recall vaguely feeling
that he was developing a deep trance, but no memories came to mind associated
with it. After some discussion of hypnotic amnesia and the possibility that
he might be manifesting such a phenomenon, he laughed with amusement and
stated that such a topic would be most intriguing to discuss. After still
further desultory conversation he was asked a propos of nothing, "In what
vestibule would you place that chair?" (indicating a nearby armchair.) His
reply was remarkable. "Really, Milton, that is a most extraordinary question.
Frightfully so! It is quite without meaning, but that word 'vestibule' has
a strange feeling of immense, anxious warmth about it. Most extraordinarily
fascinating!" He lapsed into a puzzled thought for some minutes and finally
stated that if there were any significance, it was undoubtedly some fleeting
esoteric association. After further casual conversation I remarked, "As
for the edge where I was sitting, I wonder how deep the ravine was." To
this Huxley replied, "Really Milton, you can be most frightfully cryptic.
Those words 'vestibule,' 'edge,' 'ravine' have an extraordinary effect upon
me. It is most indescribable. Let me see if I can associate some meaning
with them." For nearly 15 minutes Huxley struggled vainly to secure some
meaningful associations with those words, now and then stating that my apparently
purposive but unrevealing use of them constituted a full assurance that
there was a meaningful significance which should be apparent to him. Finally
he disclosed with elation, "I have it now. Most extraordinary how it escaped
me. I'm fully aware that you had me in a trance, and unquestionably those
words had something to do with the deep trance which seemed to be so sterile
to me. I wonder if I can recover my associations. "
After
about 20 minutes of silent, obviously intense thought on his part Huxley
remarked, "If those words do have a significance, I can truly say that I
have a most profound hypnotic amnesia. I have attempted Deep Reflection,
but I have found my thoughts centering around my mescaline experiences.
It was indeed difficult to tear myself away from those thoughts. I had a
feeling that I was employing them to preserve my amnesia. Shall we go on
for another half hour on other matters to see if there is any spontaneous
recall in association with 'vestibule,' 'edge', and 'ravine?'
Various
topics were discussed until finally Huxley said, "It is a most extraordinary
feeling of meaningful warmth those words have for me, but I am utterly,
I might say frightfully, helpless. I suppose I will have to depend upon
you for something, whatever that may be. It's extraordinary, most extraordinary."
This
comment I deliberately bypassed, but during the ensuing conversation Huxley
was observed to have a most thoughtful, puzzled expression on his face,
though he made no effort to press me for assistance. After some time I commented
with quiet emphasis, "Well, perhaps now matters will become available. "
From his lounging, comfortable position in his chair Huxley straightened
up in a startled amazed fashion and then poured forth a torrent of words
too rapid to record except for occasional notes.
In essence his account was that the word "available" had the effect of drawing
back an amnestic curtain, laying bare a most astonishing subjective experience
that had miraculously been "wiped out" by the words "leave behind" and had
been recovered in toto by virtue of the cue words "become available."
He explained that he now realized that he had developed a "deep trance,"
a psychological state far different from his state of Deep Reflection, that
in Deep Reflection there was an attenuated but unconcerned and unimportant
awareness of external reality, a feeling of being in a known sensed state
of subjective awareness, of a feeling of control and a desire to utilize
capabilities and in which past memories, learnings, and experiences flowed
freely and easily. Along with this flow there would be a continuing sense
in the self that these memories, learnings, experiences, and understandings,
however vivid, were no more than just such an orderly, meaningful alignment
of psychological experiences out of which to form a foundation for a profound,
pleasing, subjective, emotional state from which would flow comprehensive
understandings to be utilized immediately and with little conscious effort.
The
deep trance state, he asserted, he now knew to be another and entirely different
category of experience. External reality could enter, but it acquired a
new kind of subjective reality, a special reality of a new and different
significance entirely. For example, while I had been included in part in
his deep trance state, it was not as a specific person with a specific identity.
Instead I was known only as someone whom he (Huxley) knew in some vague
and unimportant and completely unidentified relationship.
Aside from my "reality" there existed the type of reality that one encounters
in vivid dreams, a reality that one does not question. Instead one accepts
such reality completely without intellectual questioning, and there are
no conflicting contrasts nor judgmental comparisons nor contradictions,
so that whatever is subjectively experienced is unquestioningly accepted
as both subjectively and objectively genuine and in keeping with all else.
In
his deep trance Huxley found himself in a deep, wide ravine, high up on
the steep side of which, on the very edge, I sat, identifiable only by name
and as annoyingly verbose. Before him in a wide expanse of soft, dry sand
was a nude infant lying on its stomach. Acceptingly, unquestioning of its
actuality, Huxley gazed at the infant, vastly curious about its behavior,
vastly intent on trying to understand its flailing movements with its hands
and the creeping movements of its legs. To his amazement he felt himself
experiencing a vague, curious sense of wonderment as if he himself were
the infant and looking at the soft sand and trying to understand what it
was.
As he watched, he became annoyed with me since I was apparently trying to
talk to him, and he experienced a wave of impatience and requested that
I be silent. He turned back and noted that the infant was growing before
his eyes, was creeping, sitting, standing, toddling, walking, playing, talking.
In utter fascination he watched this growing child, sensed its subjective
experiences of learning, of wanting, of feeling. He followed it in distorted
time through a multitude of experiences as it passed from infancy to childhood
to schooldays to early youth to teenage. He watched the child's physical
development, sensed its physical and subjective mental experiences, sympathized
with it, empathized with it, rejoiced with it, thought and wondered and
learned with it. He felt as one with it, as if it were he himself, and he
continued to watch it until finally he realized that he had watched that
infant grow to the maturity of 23 years. He stepped closer to see what the
young man was looking at, and suddenly realized that the young man was Aldous
Huxley himself, and that this Aldous Huxley was looking at another Aldous
Huxley, obviously in his early 50's, just across the vestibule in which
they both were standing; and that he, aged 52, was looking at himself, Aldous,
aged 23. Then Aldous aged 23 and Aldous aged 52 apparently realized simultaneously
that they were looking at each other, and the curious questions at once
arose in the mind of each of them. For one the question was, "Is that my
idea of what I'll be like when I am 52?" and, "Is that really the way I
appeared when I was 23?" Each was aware of the question in the other's mind.
Each found the question of "extraordinarily fascinating interest," and each
tried to determine which was the "actual reality" and which was the "mere
subjective experience outwardly projected in hallucinatory form."
To each the past 23 years was an open book, all memories and events were
clear, and they recognized that they shared those memories in common, and
to each only wondering speculation offered a possible explanation of any
of the years between 23 and 52.
They
looked across the vestibule (this "vestibule" was not defined) and up at
the edge of the ravine where I was sitting. Both knew that that person sitting
there had some undefined significance, was named Milton, and could be spoken
to by both. The thought came to both, could he hear both of them, but the
test failed because they found that they spoke simultaneously, nor could
they speak separately.
Slowly,
thoughtfully, they studied each other. One had to be real. One had to be
a memory image or a projection of a self image. Should not Aldous aged 52
have all the memories of the years from 23 to 52? But if he did, how could
he then see Aldous aged 23 without the shadings and colorations of the years
that had passed since that youthful age? If he were to view Aldous aged
23 clearly, he would have to blot out all subsequent memories in order to
see that youthful Aldous clearly and as he then was. But if he were actually
Aldous aged 23, why could he not speculatively fabricate memories for the
years between 23 and 52 instead of merely seeing Aldous as 52 and nothing
mole? What manner of psychological blocking could exist to effect this peculiar
state of affairs? Each found himself fully cognizant of the thinking and
reasoning of the "other." Each doubted "the reality of the other," and each
found reasonable explanations for such contrasting subjective experiences.
The questions arose repeatedly, by what measure could the truth be established,
and how did that unidentifiable person possessing only a name sitting on
the edge of a ravine on the other side of the vestibule fit into the total
situation? Could that vague person have an answer? Why not call to him and
see?
With much pleasure and interest Huxley detailed his total subjective experience,
speculating upon the years of time distortion experienced and the memory
blockages creating the insoluble problem of actual identity.
Finally, experimentally, the author remarked casually, "Of course, all that
could be left behind to become AVAlLABLE at some later time."
Immediately
there occurred a reestablishment of the original posthypnotic amnesia. Efforts
were made to disrupt this reinduced hypnotic amnesia by veiled remarks,
by frank, open statements, by a narration of what had occurred. Huxley found
my narrative statements about an infant on the sand, a deep ravine, a vestibule
"curiously interesting," simply cryptic remarks for which Huxley judged
I had a purpose. But they were not evocative of anything more. Each statement
I made was in itself actually uninformative and intended only to arouse
associations. Yet no results were forthcoming until again the word "AVAlLABLE"
resulted in the same effect as previously. The whole account was related
by Huxley a second time but without his realization that he was repeating
his account. Appropriate suggestions when he had finished his second narration
resulted in a full recollection of his first account. His reaction, after
his immediate astonishment, was to compare the two accounts item by item.
Their identity amazed him, and he noted only minor changes in the order
of narration and the choice of words.
Again,
as before, a posthypnotic amnesia was induced, and a third recollection
was then elicited, followed by an induced realization by Huxley that this
was his third recollection.
Extensive, detailed notations were made of the whole sequence of events,
and comparisons were made of the individual notations, with interspersed
comments regarding significances. The many items were systematically discussed
for their meanings, and brief trances were induced to vivify various items.
However, only a relatively few notations were made by me of the content
of Huxley's experience, since he would properly be the one to develop them
fully. My notations concerned primarily the sequence of events and a fairly
good summary of the total development.
This
discussion was continued until preparations for scheduled activities for
that evening intervened, but not before an agreement on a subsequent preparation
of the material for publication. Huxley planned to use both Deep Reflection
and additional self induced trances to aid in writing the article, but the
unfortunate holocaust precluded this.
CONCLUDING
REMARKS
It
is unfortunate that the above account is only a fragment of an extensive
inquiry into the nature of various states of consciousness. Huxley's
state of Deep Reflection did not appear to be hypnotic in character. Instead
it seemed to be a state of utterly intense concentration with much dissociation
from external realities but with a full capacity to respond with varying
degrees of readiness to externalities. It was entirely a personal experience
serving apparently as an unrecognized foundation for conscious work activity
enabling him to utilize freely all that had passed through his mind in Deep
Reflection.
His
hypnotic behavior was in full accord with hypnotic behavior elicited from
other subjects. He was capable of all the phenomena of the deep trance and
could respond readily to posthypnotic suggestions and to exceedingly minimal
cues. He was emphatic in declaring that the hypnotic state was quite different
from the Deep Reflection state.
While
some comparison may be made with dream activity, and certainly the ready
inclusion of the "vestibule" and the "ravine" in the same subjective situation
is suggestive of dreamlike activity, such peculiar inclusions are somewhat
frequently found as a spontaneous development of profound hypnotic ideosensory
activity in highly intellectual subjects. His somnambulistic behavior, his
open eyes, his responsiveness to me, his extensive posthypnotic behavior
all indicate that hypnosis was unquestionably definitive of the total situation
in that specific situation.
Huxley's
remarkable development of a dissociated state, even bearing in mind his
original request for a permissive technique, to view hypnotically his own
growth and development in distorted time relationships, while indicative
of Huxley's all encompassing intellectual curiosity, is suggestive of most
interesting and informative research possibilities. Postexperimental questioning
disclosed that Huxley had no conscious thoughts or plans for review of his
life experiences, nor did he at the time of the trance induction make any
such interpretation of the suggestions given him. This was verified by a
trance induction and making this special inquiry. His explanation was that
when he felt himself "deep in the trance," he then began to search for something
to do, and "suddenly there I found myself—most extraordinary."
While
this experience with Huxley was most notable, it was not my first encounter
with such developments in the regression of highly intelligent subjects.
One such experimental subject asked that he be hypnotized and informed when
in the trance that he was to develop a profoundly interesting type of regression.
This was primarily to be done for his own interest while he was waiting
for me to complete some work. His request was met, and he was left to his
own devices while sitting in a comfortable chair on the other side of the
laboratory. About two hours later he requested that I awaken him. He gave
an account of suddenly finding himself on an unfamiliar hillside, and looking
around he saw a small boy whom he irnmediately "knew" was six years old.
Curious about this conviction of a strange little boy, he walked over to
the child, only to discover that that child was himself. He immediately
recognized the hillside and set about trying to discover how he could be
himself at 26 years of age watching himself at the age of six years. He
soon learned that he could not only see, hear, and feel his child self,
but that he knew the innermost thoughts and feelings. At the moment of realizing
this, he felt the child's feeling of hunger and his wish for "brown cookies."
This brought a flood of memories to his 26 year old self, but he noticed
that the boy's thoughts were still centering on cookies and that the boy
remained totally unaware of him. He was an invisible man, in some way regressed
in time so that he could see and sense completely his childhood self. My
subject reported that he "lived" with that boy for years, watched his successes
and his failures, knew all of his innermost life, wondered about the next
day's events with the child, and like the child he found to his amazement
that even though he was 26 years old, a total amnesia existed for all events
subsequent to the child's immediate age at the moment, that he could not
foresee the future any more than could the child. He went to school with
the child, vacationed with him, always watching the continuing physical
growth and development. As each new day arrived, he found that he had a
wealth of associations about the actual happenings of the past up to the
immediate moment of life for the child self.
He
went through grade school, high school, and then through a long process
of deciding whether or not to go to college and what course of studies he
should follow. He suffered the same agonies of indecision that his then
self did. He felt his other self's elation and relief when the decision
was finally reached, and his own feeling of elation and relief was identical
with that of his other self.
My
subject explained that the experience was literally a moment by moment reliving
of his life with only the same awareness he had then and that the highly
limited restricted awareness of himself at 26 was that of being an invisible
man watching his own growth and development from childhood on, with no more
knowledge of the child's future than the child possessed.
He
had enjoyed each completed event with a vast and vivid panorama of the past
memories as each event reached completion. At the point of entrance to college
the experience terminated. He then realized that he was in a deep trance
and that he wanted to awaken and to take with him into conscious awareness
the memory of what he had been subjectively experiencing.
This
same type of experience has been encountered with other experimental subjects,
both male and female, but each account varies in the manner in which the
experience is achieved. For example a girl who had identical twin sisters
three years younger than herself found herself to be "a pair of identical
twins growing up together but always knowing everything about the other."
In her account there was nothing about her actual twin sisters; all such
memories and associations were excluded.
Another
subject, highly inclined mechanically, constructed a robot which he endowed
with life only to discover that it was his own life with which he endowed
it. He then watched that robot throughout many years of experiential events
and learnings, always himself achieving them also because he had an amnesia
for his past.
Repeated efforts to set this up as an orderly experiment have to date failed.
Usually
the subjects object or refuse for some not too comprehensible a reason.
In all of my experience with this kind of development in hypnotic trances
this type of "reliving" of one's life has always been a spontaneous occurrence
with highly intelligent, well adjusted experimental subjects.
Huxley's
experience was the one most adequately recorded, and it is most unfortunate
that the greater number of details, having been left with him, were destroyed
before he had the opportunity to write them up in full. Huxley's remarkable
memory, his capacity to use Deep Reflection, and his ability to develop
a deep hypnotic state to achieve specific purposes and to arouse himself
at will with full conscious awareness of what he had accomplished (Huxley
required very little instruction the next day to become skilled in autohypnosis)
augured exceedingly well for a most informative study. Unfortunately the
destruction of both notebooks precluded him from any effort to reconstruct
them from memory, because my notebook contained so many notations of items
of procedure and observation for which he had no memories and which were
vital to any satisfactory elaboration. However, it is hoped that the report
given here may serve, despite its deficiencies, as an initial pilot study
for the development of a more adequate and comprehensive study of various
states of consciousness.