Remembering our Ancientness in this Modern World Through “Altered State” Experience and Symbolic Meaning Making

Have you ever looked at a 4,000-year-old tree and marveled at its presence? Its roots deep in the earth, branches reaching toward the sky, embodying resilience and timeless wisdom. It stands as a testament to the ancient, enduring nature of life. Now consider the moments in yoga class when we make eye contact, bow our heads, and silently clasp our hands in “Namaste”—a gesture that transcends time, connecting us to a lineage of practice, reverence, and deep knowing that spans centuries.

In our fast-paced, modern world, surrounded by technology and the demands of daily life, it’s easy to forget how ancient we truly are. The wisdom of our bodies, the intelligence of our breath, and the innate rhythms of our psyche hold echoes of millennia. Our ancestors once survived through their bond with the land, each other, and the natural world. These ancient roots live on within us, even as we navigate the complexities of modern existence. Just as the oldest trees remind us of our resilience and connection, we too carry the legacy of generations past—ancient in our potential for healing, growth, and wholeness.

This is the heart of somatic healing: the body as oracle.

Our bodies are not simply vessels to be controlled or pushed through life—they are wise, living archives. Each sensation, each breath, each instinctual response carries a message. Beneath the layers of conditioning, our bodies remember: the betrayals, the triumphs, the ancestral echoes, the unspoken griefs. When we slow down and listen, the body speaks in a language older than words.

Cultivating a strong, cohesive sense of self and spirit is essential for transcending trauma and navigating the complexities of our objective reality. Our sense of self is the foundation from which we respond to challenges, process experiences, and find meaning. When trauma fractures this foundation, we can feel disconnected, fragmented, or overwhelmed by the present moment. Yet, the resilience we seek lies in integrating our experiences and nurturing a deeper connection to our inner core.

The oracle within does not demand perfection—it longs for presence.
Building this inner strength means embracing not just the parts of ourselves that are whole and unbroken but also those that have been scarred and tested. It involves developing practices that ground us in the present and reconnect us to our spirit—whether through meditation, somatic inquiry, or rituals like the silent clasp of hands in “Namaste.” This sense of self goes beyond our immediate circumstances and emotions; it taps into the timeless, universal part of us that knows how to endure, heal, and grow.

To reclaim the body as oracle is to remember that we are not separate from nature—we are nature. And just like the tree, we know how to root, bend, regenerate, and reach toward the light.

How the Texture of our Soul or Capital S “Self” can be Lost in Modernity

In the rush of modern life, surrounded by technology, endless entertainment, and the relentless demands of a capitalist 9-to-5 existence, it’s easy to forget how ancient we truly are. Beneath the concrete, screens, and algorithms lies the profound intelligence of our bodies, minds, and breath—a lineage of survival and connection that stretches back to the dawn of humanity.

Our ancestors survived through their bond with the land, animals, and each other. They lived in harmony with the cycles of nature, attuned to the rhythms of the earth and the wisdom within their bodies. These ancient roots still reside in us—in the way our organs heal, how our breath calms the storm of emotions, and how our psyches interpret meaning from our experiences. Despite the noise and overstimulation of modern life, this deep, embodied knowledge remains a source of resilience and guidance.

Our shared history is marked by migration, the search for safety and stability, colonization and its impact on culture, language, and identity, and the preservation and adaptation of traditions. It carries the legacy of slavery, systemic racism, war, and conflict that led to displacement, poverty, and generational trauma passed through communities. Marginalized groups have developed profound resilience and survival strategies in response to these adversities, confronting cultural erasure and fighting to reclaim history and identity. These experiences are woven into the very fabric of who we are, shaping our strengths, fears, and capacity for deep connection.

At the same time, we live in a paradoxical world where scarcity and inherited trauma coexist with abundance and unprecedented access to resources. Our modern reality, defined by constant change and access, brings a deep-seated sense of insecurity and disconnection. Yet, today, we are at a turning point. Our generation has tools, teachings, and insights for healing that our ancestors, our parents, and even our grandparents never had. This abundance of access is both a gift and a privilege—an opportunity to learn, heal, and grow in ways that were once unimaginable.

Joanna Macy once said,

“The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe.”

Acknowledging our brokenness, embracing our shared wisdom, and nurturing our connections can help us find the strength to heal—not just ourselves but our communities and our world.

Even as we navigate systems of mass communication, AI, and cultural complexity, our brains still bear the imprint of ancient survival mechanisms. The same instincts that once helped our ancestors respond to danger and survive now struggle with the constant barrage of notifications, advertisements, and societal pressure to produce. Our attention has become the battleground of modern existence, pulling us away from presence and into cycles of distraction and overstimulation.

To reclaim our wholeness, we must reconnect with our ancient essence—a bond to the raw, unfiltered reality of being alive. Whether through mindful awareness, nurturing relationships, or immersing ourselves in nature, we can honor the lineage of those who came before us. By returning to these roots, we can soothe our overstimulated minds and rediscover the strength and clarity that have carried humanity through the ages.

How Trauma Impacts the Relationship we Have with Our Self

Various forms of trauma disrupt and influence our brain's capacity to feel present. When we don’t feel safe, the brain remains in survival mode, scanning for threats, making it difficult to connect, trust, or relax. As I often say, safety is a prerequisite for receiving light. Without safety, our brains cannot truly settle, and we continue to live in a vortex or matrix of hyper-vigilance, anxiety, fear, and an unintegrated self.

In his seminal work The Body Keeps the Score, Dr. Bessel van der Kolk explores how trauma alters the brain, impacting our emotions and sense of self. Trauma doesn’t just exist in the mind—it is stored deep in the body’s musculature, fascia, and nervous system. This is where mindfulness becomes essential. It’s through practices of awareness, rest, and intentional presence that we can create the conditions for true healing.

  • Trauma resulting from the impact of oppression, racism, or systemic violence against a specific cultural group.

  • Collective trauma experienced over generations by a particular group due to major societal events (e.g., slavery, genocide, colonization).

  • Trauma experienced in medical settings (e.g., invasive treatments, misdiagnosis, or medical neglect).

  • Trauma passed down from one generation to the next, often due to unresolved trauma experienced by ancestors.

  • Trauma affecting mental health due to overwhelming fear, helplessness, or emotional pain (e.g., witnessing violence, emotional manipulation).

  • Trauma that occurs in relationships where there is a violation of trust or attachment (e.g., betrayal, abandonment).

  • Trauma related to environmental disasters or sudden environmental changes (e.g., floods, fires, climate change).

  • Trauma experienced by a large group of people or society as a whole (e.g., war, pandemics, mass violence).

  • Trauma that arises when an individual feels they have violated their own moral or ethical code (e.g., soldiers in combat, medical professionals in crisis situations).

  • Results from a single, distressing event (e.g., accident, natural disaster, assault).

  • Ongoing exposure to distressing situations over an extended period (e.g., abuse, bullying, domestic violence).

  • Repeated exposure to multiple traumatic events, often involving betrayal, abandonment, or abuse, typically in a caregiving relationship.

  • Trauma that occurs in early childhood, affecting emotional and cognitive development (e.g., neglect, attachment disruptions).

  • Trauma experienced indirectly by witnessing or hearing about someone else’s traumatic experiences (common in caregivers, therapists, or first responders).

  • Results from overwhelming emotional experiences (e.g., verbal abuse, intense relationship conflicts, or betrayal).

  • Bodily harm or injury that impacts both physical and emotional well-being (e.g., accidents, assaults, surgeries).

  • Trauma related to any non-consensual sexual act or unwanted sexual experiences (e.g., sexual abuse, assault, or harassment).

Reclaiming Wholeness Through Presence, Emotion & Integration

Rest and mindfulness are essential acts of reclamation—especially in a world that thrives on urgency, productivity, and disconnection. In the chaos of modernity, under the weight of systemic oppression and inherited survival strategies, many of us have forgotten how to simply *be* in our bodies. We’ve become fragmented, pulled away from our center, conditioned to ignore or override our own truth.

Mindfulness, somatic awareness, and altered states of consciousness invite us back home.

They offer a return—not only to the present moment but to the fullness of our emotional and spiritual landscapes. Whether through meditation, breathwork, psychedelics, or deep rest, these practices help us access the parts of ourselves that have been silenced or dismembered by trauma, patriarchy, colonization, and gender norms.

As **Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen** once said, *“The mind is the last to know.”* The body is often the first to feel. Emotions live in our muscles, fascia, and nervous system—long before we can name them. Stored trauma shows up as chronic tension, numbness, pain, or emotional overwhelm. These bodily states are not dysfunctions; they are intelligent responses to systems and conditions that have denied us the right to feel, to rest, to grieve, to rage, to be whole.

But our relationship with emotion has been distorted by cultural narratives and gendered expectations.

In patriarchal systems, the **feminine** qualities of softness, slowness, receptivity, and emotional expression have been undervalued or shamed—while **masculine** traits like control, logic, and forward motion are overemphasized. Men are often taught to suppress vulnerability and grief, while women are encouraged to be caretakers but shamed for anger or assertiveness. Queer, trans, and nonbinary individuals often face even more complexity navigating societal projections that don’t make space for fluidity, contradiction, or emotional truth.

These gendered roles create inner fragmentation. They teach us that certain emotions are dangerous, unproductive, or weak. But **emotions are not problems to be fixed—they are messengers**. Anger reveals where our boundaries have been crossed. Guilt can point to a disconnection from our values. Sadness makes space for release and rebirth. Grief is an initiation. Every emotion carries a thread back to wholeness—if we learn to listen.

But many of us were never taught how to listen. In the absence of deep attunement, we build survival strategies—what some might call **ego defenses**—to protect ourselves from overwhelm, shame, and powerlessness. These might look like:

  • Hyper-independence or overachieving

  • People-pleasing and caretaking

  • Controlling everything to feel safe

  • Dissociating or numbing out

  • Constant productivity to avoid stillness

While these strategies may have once kept us safe, **they are not sustainable**. Over time, they lead to exhaustion, disconnection, and a sense that something essential is missing.

This is often when people begin to feel the pull toward **altered or expanded states of consciousness**—not to escape, but to *remember*. Something deep within knows there is more to life than managing, performing, or surviving. In expanded states, we catch glimpses of the mystery: the soul’s memory, ancestral stories, the archetypal terrain beneath the surface.

These states can reveal grief we’ve buried, desires we’ve disowned, or visions of who we are beneath all the armor. They can also awaken awe, love, and the sacred interconnectedness we crave in a fragmented world.

But the journey doesn’t end with the insight. It begins with **integration**.

Integration is the sacred act of *living* the vision—not just remembering who we are in ceremony, but embodying it in our relationships, choices, and rituals. It’s the slow and holy process of translating soul-language into daily life. A serpent in a dream may reveal our power. A voice in breathwork may call us to rest. An image from a journey may remind us to forgive. These aren’t just visions—they are messages that long to be woven into form.

Through **mindfulness, somatic integration, and active imagination**, we create space to *be with* what arises—without collapsing or bypassing. We begin to see our protective patterns for what they are: brilliant but outdated strategies. In their place, we cultivate a new way of being—one that is more honest, more attuned, and more alive.

By reclaiming the **wisdom of our bodies** and embracing the **full spectrum of our emotions**, we begin to dismantle the internalized oppression that keeps us small. We make space for rest as resistance, for grief as teacher, and for presence as liberation. In doing so, we remember that wholeness is not a destination—it is our birthright.

The Power of Altered States: Portals to the Sacred

In my work, I honor altered states of consciousness—whether accessed through meditation, breathwork, dreams, psychedelic experiences, or spontaneous moments of awe—as vital portals to healing and wholeness.

Drawing inspiration from Stanislav Grof’s cartography of the psyche, I recognize that the human experience is far more expansive than the biographical narrative. Grof’s framework acknowledges four major domains:

  • the biographical (our lived experience),

  • the perinatal (womb and birth imprints),

  • the transpersonal (experiences beyond the individual ego),

  • and the unconscious (the unseen realms influencing our thoughts, behaviors, and emotions).

In altered states, we can access deeper layers of consciousness that are often inaccessible in ordinary waking life. These states invite us to re-negotiate early imprints, integrate ancestral wounds, connect with archetypal wisdom, and touch the timeless aspects of our being.

Whether through holotropic breathwork, psychedelic integration, somatic attunement, or meditative depth, my work supports clients in gently exploring and integrating what arises in these expanded spaces. I believe that altered states, when met with intention, safety, and embodied presence, offer profound opportunities for insight, transformation, and the retrieval of soul.

These states can be overwhelming or disorienting without compassionate guidance. In our work together, I offer a grounded, non-pathologizing, and trauma-informed container to help you explore these realms with reverence. You are not broken—you are in the process of remembering.

Integration: Weaving the Journey into Wholeness

The altered state is only the beginning. The real work—and the real magic—happens in integration.

After a psychedelic experience, breathwork journey, or dream vision, we return not just with insights, but with symbols, images, and somatic truths that speak in the language of the soul. These experiences are not meant to be consumed—they are meant to be honored, metabolized, and lived.

Like the hero returning from the underworld with a boon for the village, integration is the process of weaving these revelations into your daily life. Without integration, a powerful vision may fade like a forgotten dream. With care, however, even the most fragmented image or fleeting sensation can become a guiding star—a map back to your deepest self.

In our work together, I offer space to explore:

  • Myths and metaphors that arise in your journey—What archetypes visited you? What landscapes or ancestors appeared?

  • Somatic wisdom—How did your body speak during or after the experience? What does it need now?

  • Unfinished or overwhelming content—What feels incomplete, tender, or unresolved?

  • Practical embodiment—How do you live the medicine? What needs to change in your relationships, rhythms, or rituals?

Integration is not a checklist. It is a conversation with the unconscious, a return to the body, and a slow blooming of the soul into form. It may look like dancing, resting, crying, writing, setting boundaries, tending your altar, or learning to say no.

You are not meant to walk this path alone. Whether your journey brought awe, confusion, grief, or ecstasy, I am here to help you make meaning, move gently, and remember what matters.

The most primitive part of the brain, responsible for basic survival functions like heart rate, breathing, and the fight-or-flight response. This part of the brain operates automatically to ensure survival and is deeply activated during trauma.

Mindfulness helps calm the reptilian brain, which is responsible for our most basic survival responses like fight, flight, or freeze. Through regular practice, we train the brain to shift out of this reactive mode, creating space for calm and rational thinking.

The Reptilian Brain (Survival Brain)

The Prefrontal Cortex (Thinking Brain)

This is the rational, executive part of the brain that governs decision-making, self-awareness, and impulse control. In trauma survivors, the prefrontal cortex often becomes underactive during stress, making it hard to think clearly or regulate emotions.

Mindfulness enhances the function of the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for decision-making, emotional regulation, and self-awareness. Trauma can inhibit this part of the brain, making it difficult to think clearly or control emotions, but mindfulness strengthens its ability to function, allowing us to respond to life with more calm and clarity.

The Limbic System (Emotional Brain)

Amygdala: Trauma can lead to an overactive amygdala, where we become hypervigilant and overly reactive to perceived threats. Mindfulness practices help us recognize and name these emotional states without becoming overwhelmed, calming the amygdala's alarm system. Compassion for ourselves and others reduces emotional reactivity, making it easier to face emotional triggers with understanding and gentleness. Love fosters a sense of security, helping us manage fear and anger with more stability.

Hippocampus: The hippocampus processes memory and helps differentiate between past and present. Trauma can blur this distinction, leading to confusion or flashbacks. Mindfulness helps us ground ourselves in the present moment, which can strengthen the hippocampus and aid in memory processing.

This area of the brain is involved in speech and language. Dr. van der Kolk highlights how trauma can "shut down" this area, making it difficult for survivors to put their traumatic experiences into words, a phenomenon known as speechlessness or "speechless terror."

Mindfulness practices encourage non-judgmental observation of internal states, which can gently open pathways to articulate those emotions. By practicing compassion and self-love, we create a safe inner environment where we feel less fear or shame about expressing our feelings, thus unlocking the ability to communicate more freely.

Broca’s Area

Insula

The insula is involved in the awareness of bodily sensations. Trauma can disconnect individuals from their bodies, impairing the insula's function. This disconnection from bodily sensations can make it difficult to process emotions or feel safe within one’s own body.

Mindfulness practices like body scanning reconnect us with our physical sensations, making us more aware of our emotions and inner states. Approaching these sensations with compassion helps us embrace even difficult emotions, while love reassures us that it’s safe to feel and express what arises.

How Meditation and Expanded State Awareness Impacts the Brain

Mindfulness, compassion, and love doesn’t just feel good—it has real, measurable effects on the brain. Here are some key areas impacted by these practices:

Vagus Nerve

Although not technically part of the brain, the vagus nerve plays a crucial role in the mind-body connection. It regulates the parasympathetic nervous system (rest-and-digest response), helping the body calm down after stress. Trauma can disrupt the vagus nerve, making it harder to return to a state of calm after triggering events.

Mindfulness techniques that focus on breath work, such as deep breathing or loving-kindness meditation, stimulate the vagus nerve, promoting relaxation. Compassionate touch, self-care, and connection with loved ones activate the vagus nerve, creating a sense of calm. Love itself is a powerful activator of the vagus nerve, fostering deeper relaxation and emotional well-being.

These neurons are involved in empathy and connection, helping us understand and reflect the emotions of others. Trauma can disrupt this system, making it difficult to connect with others or feel empathy, which can result in social isolation.

Mindfulness enhances our ability to observe and reflect emotions without judgment, helping to re-establish connections with others. Compassion for ourselves and others strengthens our empathetic capacities, making it easier to understand and feel with others. Love fosters connection, breaking down barriers of loneliness and restoring our ability to relate.

Mirror Neurons

Default Mode Network (DMN)

The DMN is responsible for self-referential thinking—how we see ourselves and reflect on our past. Trauma can distort this, causing negative self-talk or fragmented identity.

Mindfulness quiets the DMN, allowing us to step out of negative loops and see ourselves more clearly. Compassion helps us meet our thoughts with kindness, and love promotes a more integrated and positive sense of self, reducing the harmful effects of self-criticism and shame.

Meditation and Psychedelic Medicine: Expanding States of Awareness

Meditation and psychedelic medicine share a profound commonality: both invite us to experience life through an expanded state of awareness, teaching us to witness our thoughts, feelings, and sensations without becoming overly identified with them. This process is the opposite of how trauma interacts with the brain, where the mind often becomes stuck in loops of hypervigilance, dissociation, or rumination, keeping us disconnected from the present moment.

Trauma tends to hijack the brain’s default mode network (DMN)—the system responsible for self-referential thoughts and mental time travel—keeping us trapped in repetitive narratives about the past or fears of the future. Both meditation and psychedelics disrupt this cycle, quieting the DMN and fostering a state of rest and openness. In meditation, we deliberately slow down, cultivating awareness and presence that helps soothe the nervous system and rewire the brain. Similarly, psychedelics often dissolve rigid patterns of thought, creating space for insights and a fresh perspective on ourselves and our experiences.

These practices create states of rest and expanded awareness, allowing the brain and body to step out of survival mode. By softening the grip of the DMN, they help us reconnect with the deeper intelligence of the body, integrate stored trauma, and access a sense of peace and wholeness. Through these processes, we learn to witness our internal landscape with curiosity and compassion, unlocking profound healing potential.

Accessing the Collective Unconscious as a Source for Self-Object

Within each of us lies the collective unconscious—a reservoir of shared human experience, archetypal imagery, and cultural symbols that hold profound meaning. This rich internal landscape serves as a Self-Object, offering a source of guidance, light, and encouragement to heal and grow. Carl Jung described the collective unconscious as a universal layer of the psyche, containing the archetypes that shape how we experience life and connect to the larger whole.

In medicine journeys, such as those involving psychedelics, we often encounter these transpersonal symbols and experiences directly. They emerge not as abstract ideas but as vivid, living realities—a mythological figure, a powerful ancestral presence, or an archetypal scene. These encounters tap into the deeper layers of our psyche, providing insight, emotional resonance, and the recognition that our personal struggles are part of something much greater.

The experiential nature of these journeys is transformative. By engaging with the symbols and meanings that arise, we are invited to see ourselves not in isolation but as participants in an ongoing story that spans generations and cultures. This symbolic dialogue fosters a sense of connection, purpose, and the capacity to move beyond individual pain into collective healing.

However, the process doesn’t end with the experience itself. Integration is essential to anchor the insights gained from these encounters into everyday life. Without integration, the transformative potential of these symbols and archetypes can remain abstract or overwhelming. By reflecting on what we’ve experienced, journaling, engaging in therapy, or participating in community, we ground these transpersonal insights into practical changes in how we live, relate, and heal.

Accessing the collective unconscious reminds us of our intrinsic connection to the greater human story. It helps us rediscover parts of ourselves that were lost or fractured, offering inspiration and strength to move forward with clarity and compassion.

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” - Rumi

It's important not to let past traumas prevent you from being fully present. Each of us has a rich inner world—a complex ecosystem where all parts of ourselves coexist. In our work together, we will explore this landscape, creating space for you to feel your emotions and uncover the unconscious thoughts and limiting beliefs that may be keeping you stuck.

“Healing occurs not through what we know, but through what we experience, what we feel, and how we relate at the deepest levels of our being.”

Together, we can work toward a deeper understanding of yourself and foster a sense of well-being.

  • Trauma is not just an event that took place sometime in the past; it is also the imprint left by that experience on mind, brain, and body.

    Bessel Van Der Kolk

  • Everything we speak creates... Opening our voice, we open the many layers of self. And through this opening, we begin to dance with all that has stood in our way. The obstacles become the opportunity for transformation.

    Ayla Nereo

  • The human mind is a judgement making machine. Part of our task is to get to know the machine and understand the mechanics of our mind... Between the stimulus and the response is the gap and in that gap is your freedom. When you are triggered there is no gap. It's just the stimulus and the response.

    Gabor Mate

  • The way to begin is with ourselves. From being open and honest with ourselves, we can also learn to be open with others.

    Chogyam Trungpa wrote in 'Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior

  • It's the human condition to want to be understood and to experience belonging, and when we achieve that, it’s as if our emotional circuits have been plugged in, and the switch is turned on.

    Diane Fosha - The Transforming Power of Affect

  • Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic

    Frank Herbert - Dune

  • The mind is the last to know.

    Bassel Van Der Kolk - The Body Keeps the Score