V I S I O N S E E K E R
by Hank Wesselman, PhD
(Hay House, 2001)
Reviewed by Jane Hughes Gignoux

In chapter seven of Visionseeker, Hank Wesselman, describing his “shamanic journeywork,” writes, “There comes a point when things begin to happen that I am not creating with my intentionality, and it is then that I understand quite clearly that I have shifted into a level of reality and experience that has its own existence separate from myself. This is what it means to vision.”  Readers of Visionseeker will need to integrate this statement if they are to fully appreciate the many levels at which this extraordinary narrative invites our conscious and unconscious assumptions to slide off the comfortable couch of “I know” and dance naked (but not alone) in the shimmering glare of “what if?” For “explorers” committed to venturing into the myriad uncharted realms of the mind, this is indeed rich territory.

   Visionseeker is paleoanthropologist Wesselman’s third book describing his altered-states-of-consciousness experiences that began spontaneously and unexpectedly in the early 1980s. It is not necessary to have read the earlier books, Spiritwalker and Medicinemaker, however, to enjoy this new work, because in his introduction Dr Wesselman gives a concise overview of the first two volumes. As he makes clear, “Nothing in my academic training as an anthropologist had prepared me for these experiences, and I responded to them with an intense curiosity. I was not one of those worthies who had spent decades at the knees of the wisdom masters, practicing meditation and yoga, hoping for visions and transcendent experiences, nor was I a member of the psychedelic explorers club. In those days, I worshiped solely at the altar of science.” Wesselman has spent much of his life among traditional people in the Great Rift Valley of Eastern Africa working with several scientific research expeditions in search of answers to the mystery of human origins.

In Visionseeker, Wesselman finds himself inside another man’s body with full access to this person’s thoughts, feelings, and memories. This is not unheard-of among those who have advanced intuitive powers. When I was studying with a clairvoyant healer in the early 1980s, she reported waking up inside another person. I recall that she didn’t welcome these incidents but knew of no way to stop them.

What is significant about Wesselman’s experience is that Nainoa, the man he shares consciousness with, is living 5000 years in the future. At first Wesselman thought he might be dreaming, or possibly losing his mind. Being the consummate scientist that he is, however, he took copious notes and began studying the world of shamanic altered states of consciousness through intense research and apprenticeship. Aside from the riveting story line, there is one compelling aspect of Wesselman’s observations in this future time that place this trilogy, and particularly this new volume, at the center of noetic inquiry.

In Nainoa’s world, everything of today’s civilization is gone. Given what we know of past civilizations, this is not surprising. What these people do have, however, is a clear understanding of the complexities of perennial spiritual laws. This I take as very good news!

While Nainoa is continually receiving spiritual teachings, he and Wesselman find a way to meet and share what they are learning on their parallel journeys. “They were shown that living beings of varying degrees of complexity exist everywhere in the Universe. . . . The creation of life is what the Universe is designed to do, and it is through the medium of living beings that the Universe is creating its own mind-spirit, a process that is going on everywhere.”

And what of science is in all this? In chapter 13, Wesselman reveals how he was contacted by Norman Don, PhD, codirector of the Brain Function Laboratory and a member of the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Don had read Spiritwalker and wanted to run tests on Wesselman's brain waves. The resulting series of EEG recordings demonstrated that Wesselman can now induce the altered state in which his visionary experiences occur at will. In each of a dozen trials, his brain waves achieved radical hyperarousal states, sometimes referred to as the gamma rhythm. Previously, it had been recorded only in an Indian yogi and in a handful of Brazilians who have had the alien-abduction experience. Clearly, Visionseeker lies right at the center of noetic inquiry, bringing together science and spirituality.

Both Wesselman and Nainoa are concerned with what all spiritual traditions have proclaimed: Consciousness is causal and nonlocal. In Visionseeker we encounter this great mystery in ways that challenge the intellect, stimulate the imagination, and feed the soul.

Jane Hughes Gignoux is the author of Some Folk Say: Stories of Life, Death, and Beyond, past president of FIONS in New York, and an IONS Board and Stewardship Council member.

M I N D   S C I E N C E
by Charles T. Tart
(Wisdom Editions, 2001)
Reviewed by Tobias Bodine

It really isn’t news to readers of this journal that introducing scientists to meditation can be likened to stepping into the lion cage at the zoo right before feeding time. There’s probably enough New Age rhetoric around that passes for “science” to keep dogmatic skeptics occupied for the next few decades. Nevertheless, one cannot deny that the emergence of an almost-mainstream consciousness-studies community has encouraged researchers to take a second look at the value of refined, systematic introspection.

As one effective means of presenting mindfulness practice to this small segment of the general population, former IONS Fellow Dr Charles Tart has put out a brilliant little book entitled Mind Science: Meditation Training for Practical People. Despite the obvious orientation of this work toward the scientific community—after all, the book is actually a summary of an all-day workshop Tart led at the 1998 Tucson Toward a Science of Consciousness conference—I highly recommend this book even to nonscientists who wish to start a meditation practice.

Tart’s approach to meditation instruction includes three integral techniques that he taught to workshop participants and now gives to us readers. These three techniques for quieting the mind, explained with Tart’s usual panache and trademark humorous style, are: 1) concentrative meditation (anapana, from the Buddhist tradition); 2) insight meditation (vipassana); and 3) self-observation (Gurdjieffian self-remembering). In other words, if scientists (or nonscientists) want to catch at least a glimpse of what really goes on in the mind beneath the near-constant chatter of habitual living, they need to 1) sit down and shut up; 2) impartially observe what happens in their bodies moment to moment; and 3) observe multiple bodily sensations while undertaking any other activity . . . in other words, split their attention. Practicing these techniques, or at least something comparable, is a basic requirement for accurate mind-perception, according to Tart. As he intimates metaphorically, attempting to collect any data that might be useful for consciousness research prior to quieting the mind is like trying to identify microorganisms through the dusty, unfocused lens of an old microscope.

Readers might already recognize these techniques from his earlier work, Living the Mindful Life, which also drew from workshops he has taught to spiritual groups. Although much more compact than Living the Mindful Life, his newest book reflects his willingness to proactively present mindfulness to the scientific community, both as a research procedure and as a means to self-insight. In Mind Science, Tart maintains the same combination of expository monologue, real-life Q & A sessions, and experiential instructions. He then pares down any language that might somehow suggest that mindfulness is an exotic practice, reserved for those souls who are either extremely spiritually dissatisfied or spiritually advanced.

The numerous instruction books on meditation published by teachers these days seem to fall into one of two categories. Either they are so full of metaphysical jargon that emerges from accessing “higher” or “more transcendent” realms, which immediately creates a vast experiential gulf between the teacher and the beginning student, or they are reduced to feel-good, “here’s-the-magic-key” techniques devoid of the wisdom that has been cultivated by serious meditation practitioners over the ages. Charles Tart, on the other hand, is a master at teaching meditation without really claiming to be a teacher. In reading his books, I get the sense that he has plenty of experience in the spiritual arts, but it hasn’t gone to his head. It’s as if he can truly remember what it was like to be a beginner in meditation, and thus offers reassurance to those who are newly embarking on the path of contemplative practice. He seems to be saying, “Yes, it’s difficult to remain mindful throughout the day; you just have to look at my habits to see that. But no, it is not necessary to surrender your authority to something or someone outside of yourself in order to cultivate mindfulness.”

One doesn’t often come across a book that combines scientific rigor, a dedication to spreading mindfulness to the masses, and an infectious, irresistible warmth. Furthermore, one rarely comes across a book that presents meditation to scientists without reverting to reductionist notions of why and how. Charles Tart has done it here, though, and if you’ve got a few consciousness researchers in your neighborhood who are in need of a good dose of quieting down, this is the book to get them.

Tobias Bodine is an associate editor for IONS Review. He currently practices somatic bodywork and meditation in San Anselmo, California. He can be reached via email at tobias@noetic.org.

T R A N S P E R S O N A L   K N O W I N G: 
Exploring the Horizon of Consciousness

by Tobin Hart, Peter Nelson, & Kaisa Puhakka, eds.
(SUNY Press, 2000)
Reviewed by Danielle Van Deventer

What is transpersonal knowing? The answer is subject to much interpretation, but in this anthology, respected thinkers in the field of transpersonal psychology respond to the question with insight and fervor. According to coeditor Kaisa Puhakka, transpersonal knowing is different from possessing knowledge. Possessing knowledge is the ability to state information on the basis of common knowledge or knowledge supported by theory. Transpersonal knowing, on the other hand, can be defined as a brief moment of clarity and awareness that occurs when the knower comes into contact with the known.

Though the contributors to this anthology have differing ideas about what constitutes attainment of transpersonal knowing, the authors all agree that knowing is not reserved for a guru or an “extraordinary” transcended being, but may be accessed by any person. As Tobin Hart proposes, “spiritual and transcendent insight happens within the mundane.” The contributors seem to agree that such knowing cannot be defined through words, but can be fully understood only through experience, and the fruit of transpersonal knowing is the transformation of one’s self and mind.

The first portion of the book discusses the essential mystical qualities of transpersonal knowing. The central chapters examine epistemology and how one’s knowing actually develops. The book concludes with a discussion of alternative means of knowing, such as transformative sexuality (by Jenny Wade), and transpersonal cognition (by Michael Washburn).

Two chapters stand out: Jorge Ferrer’s “Transpersonal Knowledge: a Participatory Approach to Transpersonal Phenomena” and Arthur Deikman’s “Service as a Way of Knowing.” Both address the perils and pitfalls of the spiritual path.

Ferrer discusses the idea that transpersonalism may lead to so much introspection that one may fall prey to “spiritual narcissism,” which is “the misuse of spiritual practices, energies, or experiences to bolster self-centered ways of being.” He believes that by minimizing self-introspection and maximizing personal and community-oriented transcendent experiences, we can become truly aware of our connection to ourselves and our world in a transcendent way.

Deikman suggests that service can be a form of knowing, for it can help us to connect deeply with a “reality much larger than ourselves.” He addresses the argument that service merely meets the giver’s need for receiving accolades for serving. According to Deikman, survival needs are selfish per se. To move beyond such selfishness and obtain true knowing, one needs a perception of contribution and connectedness with someone or something outside of one’s self.

The innovative thinking and challenging perspectives on transpersonal knowing make this book worthy of ongoing contemplation. Transpersonal Knowing suggests that we are capable of experiencing a higher, “knowing,” power within ourselves. If this is the case, then what we humans are up against is not ultimately answering to a distant, unknown power or deity, but answering to ourselves, a task that requires the great responsibility of self-knowledge.

Danielle Van Deventer, MA is a therapist working with adolescents in a therapeutic community treatment facility in Redwood City, California. She is presently completing her doctoral work at the of Institute of Transpersonal Psychology.