by Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.

(The soul) doesn’t see joy and sorrow
as two different feelings.
It is with us
only in their union.
We can count on it
when we’re not sure of anything
and curious about everything.

W. Symborska (“A little bit about the soul”)

The great quantum physicist, Neils Bohr, used to say that there are two types of truth.  In the shallow type, the opposite of a true statement is false; in the deeper type, the opposite of a true statement is equally true.  In generative trance work, these two levels correspond to the conscious mind and the creative unconscious.  We see the conscious mind as being tied to a specific position in a systemic field (of many positions), while the creative unconscious rests in the field (of all positions).  We further see the conscious mind as being helpful when we want to repeat previous patterns, while the creative unconscious is better when new patterns or understandings are needed.

Of course, it is easy to get stuck in the rigid positions of the conscious mind, and thus repeat the past.  A main focus of generative trance work is thus how to free consciousness from fixed positions, so that new learnings may occur. A central method in this regard is the process of complementarity, wherein attention is simultaneously attuned to multiple (often contradictory) positions—for example, I am wounded AND I am whole and unwounded, or I am connected with others AND I am separate. When held in a centered, open way, these “both/and” patterns break the “tyranny of the single truth” and open the gateways into the “infinite possibilities” of the creative self.  However, these same patterns, when held in a disintegrated context (such as stress), can throw us into the abyss of symptoms and sufferings. This blog explores how these general understandings constitute a cornerstone of generative trance work.

1.  Duality is the basic psychological unit underlying experiential realities.

At its core, the cognitive mind is organized around dualities.   Everything contains its opposite, and reality is constructed through a dynamic relationship between these opposites: Breathing in and breathing out, self and other, stillness and movement, etc.  One of the basic differences between the conscious mind and the creative unconscious lies in this relationship between opposites: The conscious mind organizes around “either/or” relationships and gives preferential focus to one side of the complementarity over the other, while the creative unconscious holds a “both/and” relationship in which both sides are simultaneously engaged.

2.  When opposites are held in rhythmic balance, life goes well.

In that the conscious mind can be seen as the managerial facilitator of the vision of the creative unconscious, a balanced shifting between positions makes sense.  For to create anything in the world, one value must be chosen over another at any given point.  To walk, for example, we need to put one foot forward, then the other, then back to the first, etc.  As long as there is a rhythmic balance, there is no problem.  We work hard, then we rest, then we work again; we connect with others until we need solitude, which then brings us back into connection with others; we have a stable map that eventually becomes untenable and unstable, which leads to a new stability.  In this way, the conscious mind realizes the vision of the creative unconscious (see McGilchrist, 2010).¹

3. When opposites are held in rigid opposition, with one side represented as “good” against another labeled “bad,” problems and symptoms develop.

While each side of a complementarity can be used in either positive or negative ways, and can be experienced and expressed in a virtually infinite number of possible forms, it is easy to get locked into fixed values and judgments.  This blocks the rhythmic shifting between opposites that is crucial to creative unfolding, and thereby creates symptoms.  For example, Claire grew up in a family where a core rule was, “Always work hard,” with the corollary injunctions to “never rest” and “never take it easy.”  The family was exceptional, most members being highly successful people who also did significant community work.  They resembled the old Kennedy family clan, where vacations were spent engaged in vigorous, mandatory athletic competitions.

In this family, the fixed values were around the complementarity of “active/rest”–being active was “good” and meant always work and be successful in the world, while rest was “bad” and meant sitting around and feeling guilty and worthless. This is an example of the conscious mind biasing one side over the other, which if held in neuromuscular lock will produce a rigid imbalance. Jung used to say that the unconscious is always compensatory to—i.e., trying to balance—the imbalances of the conscious mind. Thus, it was not surprising that Claire developed a symptom involving not being able to be active, i.e., a strange type of chronic fatigue that left her bedridden and unable to work.  In the generative trance model, the symptom is in a negative form because its core pattern is being held in a negative human relationship.

A major focus of generative trance is how to hold both sides of a relationship in positive ways, and then see how they can “make love, not war.”  Thus, Claire was helped into a generative trance and invited to welcome the part of her that was experiencing chronic fatigue.  When I asked this part her intention and need, the heart-touching response came:

I just want to surrender.

After a few moments of silence, she added,

But I love my work so much.

To her fixed understandings, these complementary needs—the yin of surrender and the yang of work—were mutually exclusive, thereby generating a symptom.  In generative trance, we explore how the conflicting sides of a symptom may be experienced as parts of a deeper unity, such that their balanced integration allows creative breakthroughs, rather than destructive breakdowns.  Claire was thus invited in trance to allow her creative unconscious to develop new ways to experience and express integrated forms of this complementarity, i.e., to BOTH do good work AND stay connected and relaxed. Finding a balance between the two sides became the integral part of her healing process.

4. When both sides of a complementarity are held negatively and activated simultaneously, deep splits and negative symptoms occur.

While usually one side of a complementarity is more dominant, periodically both sides are simultaneously and equally activated.  This produces a strange and powerful effect: The conscious mind falls apart and the quantum field of the unconscious opens.  This could be something as simple and enjoyable as a good joke.  One of Milton Erickson’s favorites was the following:

Mr. and Mrs. Bigger had a baby and everybody wanted to know who was the biggest Bigger.
Of course, the baby was a little Bigger.

The laughter from a joke occurs when the two different positional frames—in this case, Bigger and bigger—are simultaneously held.  The bindings of the conscious mind are popped and the creative unconscious releases with the musicality of laughter.

In generative trance work, we see the holding of opposite sides of a complementarity as a succinct formula for generating a trance. An equally important premise is that the unconscious can be positive or negative, depending on the human relationship with it; thus, some of the resulting trances can be decidedly negative.  For example, Bateson’s (1955/1972)² research with schizophrenia led him to propose a “double bind” communicational theory in which schizophrenic experience and behavior was a response to contradictory messages given in a negative context.   Thus, a mother might repeatedly implore her child to come closer (as a verbal message) while also insisting he stay away (as a nonverbal message).   These double messages would be accompanied by three unspoken rules : (1) You can’t meta-comment on the double messages; (2) Whichever message you respond to, you’re wrong, and (3) You can’t leave the context. According to Bateson, this schizophrenogenic double bind pattern would evoke a structurally similar response in the recipient, namely, “schizo” (split) “phrenos” (mind).

More recently, a similar sort of negative double bind has been proposed by Peter Levine (2010) in his ground-breaking work on trauma.³  He describes a cross-species response to traumatic threat, a sort of “trauma trance” where an animal gets locked in frozen immobility or folds into helplessness.  He especially emphasizes how the initial response to threat is either to run away or fight back.  If neither of these limb-based responses are available, it sets up a sort of “negative double bind” that produces the “trauma trance.”

In a more general way, we can see most symptoms in terms of a violent clash between opposites.  A simple representation of a problem is,

I want X but Y happens instead.

In such cases, X and Y can be seen as complements that, when activated in a mutually inhibitory relationship, overwhelm the single position of the conscious mind and create a disturbed (unintegrated) experience of the “both/and” unconscious, i.e. a negative trance or symptom.  As we will see, trance provides a safe and resilient context in which conflicting parts can be untangled and then integrated into a complementary unity.

5. When both sides of a complementarity are held positively and activated simultaneously, creative integration and new consciousness occurs.

One of Bateson’s (1955/1972) most extraordinary contributions came in his elaboration of the “double message” communication beyond schizophrenia, in which he suggested that all distinctly human communications contained double messages.  This includes humor; play; mature love (where two partners create a space that includes the different individual position, plus a third “we” position); and hypnosis (where there are two levels of experience, the conscious and unconscious minds).  In these contexts, the “both/and” quality of the communication opens a deeper dimension beyond the single frame of the conscious mind.  In his later work, he emphasized how any ecological map must minimally carry “double description”—that is, at least two different, even contradictory perspectives.  When the different descriptions are aesthetically combined, a deeper dimension is opened, much like the process of binocular vision or stereophonic listening.

This capacity to experience seemingly contradictory realities in trance is known as trance logic (Orne, 1959⁴), and is generally regarded as one of the defining phenomena of trance experience.  It reflects partly the structure of hypnotic communications, where the paradoxical suggestion is given for the person to do something, but not at a conscious level —for example, your hand will begin to lift all by itself, without your conscious effort. The resulting experience is a paradoxical, I’m BOTH lifting my hand AND I’m not (consciously) lifting my hand.

This trance logic takes many different forms.  For example, when I was 20 years old, I was sitting in Erickson’s office with a friend of mine.  Paul, also 20, had a big mustache at the time.  Erickson guided Paul into a very sweet trance involving age regression.  When asked, Paul reported he was 4 years old, and he really looked and sounded like it!  Ever playful, Erickson then asked Paul what was up on his (mustached) lip.  Paul momentarily looked alarmed, then said in his best 4 year old way, “Nothing!”  Erickson playfully persisted, suggesting that maybe Paul had eaten some corn flakes for breakfast, as something sure seemed to be up on his lip.  His suggestion that Paul reach up and touch his lip to see what was there was met with a staunch refusal. Erickson asked why not, and Paul said, “I know what’s up there!”   “What’s up there?”, Erickson asked. “Hair!”  Paul responded.  “What’s hair doing on the lip of a 4 year old boy?” Erickson inquired.  Paul paused, as if needing to go deeper into trance to consider the question, then brightened and responded, “Oh, that’s easy, that’s when I was older!”  Erickson laughed and agreed, “yes, that’s when you were older.”  He then talked about how in trance you could be both an adult and a child at the same time, in so many ways.

The value of such a possibility is hopefully self evident.  Imagine the creativity of “both sides now”—for example, having the maturity of an adult and the innocence of a child; or feeling a part of something yet also apart from it; or holding feelings of both wanting something and not needing it.

Interestingly, the capacity to enjoyably experience opposites has been found by a number of investigators to be a central characteristic of creative genius.  Arthur Koestler (1964), in his landmark book, The Act of Creation⁵, proposed that central to the creative process was the process of bisociation, where two previously unrelated ideas integrate together.  Frank Barron (1969)⁶ found that creative geniuses were strong in three areas: (1) the willingness/ability to sit in “not knowing” states of active curiosity; (2) a deep sense of unwavering unshakability once a conviction was developed; and (3) the appreciation of paradoxes, contradictions, and other forms of both/and logic.  In another study, this one of 91 creative geniuses, Csikszentmihalyi (1996)⁷ found that these extraordinary individuals shared 10 characteristics, all having to do with “both/and” qualities.  For example, they were intensely active and energetic, but spent considerable time in restful reverie and trance-like states; they were playful but also quite disciplined; and they both introverted and extroverted.

(6)  Generative trance is an excellent context for creatively working with the core complementaries underlying a reality or identity.

Its positive context allows each part of a systemic identity to experience acceptance, respect, and support.  Its deconstructive nature allows the different surface forms attached to a part to be dissolved, and new possible forms to be explored.  Its fluidity allows many new possible connections to be explored.  In a core sense, generative trance is a creative field that carries virtually unlimited potential for new consciousness.  A person shifts from identification with one position (against another) to a field that holds the interplay of all the perspectives in the field.  Thus, conflicting relationships can be untangled and put back into play, allowing new connections to slowly move towards an integrative crescendo that gives birth to new dimensions.

The above comments only faintly hint at the central importance of both/and logic to creative consciousness.  Happiness, health, healing, and creative performance are all expressions of an aesthetic intelligence that integrates the parts and the whole of a systemic identity.  Examples of such aesthetic intelligence include a musical symphony, a good meal, an excellent book, a well-functioning family or business, or a creative person.  In such systems, multiple positions dynamically work to create something beyond the sum of the parts.

All parts are not the same in such a system.  In fact, a core pattern is the juxtaposition of opposite parts: point and counter-point, sweet and sour, joy and suffering, etc.  This coming together of opposites is sometimes called the “the magic of conflict” in the martial art of aikido, wherein differences blend to create something new.  (Remember, this is how each of us was created!)   This creative growth requires an underlying context wherein each side is equally respected, valued, and included.  When this does not happen, the conflict creates symptoms and sufferings.

In Generative Trance work, we are always on the look-out for how creative wholeness may be realized.  For every truth or position that is expressed, we are interested in the underlying complementary position(s) that brings consciousness to a greater integrity.  By weaving these opposite positions into a musical mandala within the non-dual field of generative trance, a genuine growth of Self may occur.  And this, to be sure, is a worthwhile experience.

Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.
May 6, 2012

References

¹ McGilchrist, I. (2010) The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. New Haven: Yale University Press.

² Bateson, G. (1955/1972). A theory of play and fantasy: A report on the theoretical aspects of the project for study of the role of paradoxes of abstraction in communication. In G. Bateson (1972), Steos to an Ecology of Mind. New York: Ballantine Books.

³ Levine, Peter A. (2010). In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books.

⁴ Orne, M.T. (1959). The nature of hypnosis Artifact and essence. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 58, 277-299.

⁵ Koestler, A. (1964) The Act of Creation: A study of the conscious and unconscious in science and art. New York: Macmillan.

⁶ Barron, F. (1969). Creative Person, Creative Process. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston.

⁷ Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1996). Creativity: Flow and the psychology of discovery and invention. New York: Harper Collins.

NOTE: Generative Trance is the primary topic of this year’s Trance Camp, held in July in San Diego. You can attend one, two, or all three weeks of this special intensive training. Click here for further information.

by Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.

To remember
the other world
in this world
is to live in your
true inheritance.

David Whyte

In previous blogs, I talked about how the Generative Self approach distinguishes two worlds: (1) the classical world of the conscious mind and (2) the quantum world of the creative unconscious mind.  These worlds are complementary and mutually fulfilling—roughly speaking, the creative unconscious is the visionary, while the conscious mind is the manager.  You need both to live a creative and fulfilling life.

Of course, you don’t need both at all times.  For routine moments, when you just need to do what you’ve done in the past, you don’t really need the creative unconscious.  When you go get a cup of coffee in the morning, for example, you don’t have to be in a highly creative state. But there are inevitably times in life when what you’ve done in the past won’t help you deal with the present challenge.   At such times, you need to create something new—a new way of looking at things, a new way of understanding yourself, a new way of acting in the world.  This is precisely where generative trance is a helpful state, as it allows you to think, experience, and act in new ways.  This blog will explore this understanding of trance.   Five basic ideas will be proposed:

(1)    Trance as absorption in the creative unconscious.
(2)    Not all trances are equal.
(3)    Trance is naturalistic.
(4)    Trance is psychobiologically necessary.
(5)    Hypnosis is one psychosocial context for humanizing and shaping trance.

Trance as absorption in the creative unconscious

In general terms, trance can be defined straightforwardly as:

(1) A temporary suspension of the classical world of the conscious mind, and (2) an experiential absorption into the quantum world of the creative unconscious.

Most adults spend most of their time in the managerial world of the conscious mind.  They are one step removed from direct experience, thinking about things, analyzing and worrying.  The conscious mind is a world defined by, and held in place by, verbal descriptions and verbal rules.  These include beliefs, expectations, ‘shoulds,’ and stories about who you are and why, and what you can expect to happen in your future.  It is easy to get stuck in this ‘identity box’, succumbing to what Henry David Thoreau called ‘lives of quiet desperation.’

Trance is a way out of this, a reawakening into the quantum world of infinite possibility.  When you go into trance, the constraints of the ego-box are temporarily suspended.  You drop the analytical thinking and conditioned perceptions and immerse yourself in the ocean of primitive consciousness, a world of images, feelings, symbols, movements and energies.  Like in dreams or at play, in trance you can go anywhere from anywhere; the normal classical reality gives way to a more subtle quantum field of creative possibility.  All the ordinary structures of identity that are usually fixed—time, meanings, embodiment, memory, logic, brain maps—become variable, free to generate new patterns and identities.

Not all trances are created equal

However, immersion in this new world does not guarantee the generation of new possibilities.  Some trances are low quality – spacing out, television trances, numbing out – that may give you a break from active ego processing, but don’t do much to refresh or transform your consciousness.  Other trances are downright negative – such as depression, anxiety, addiction, resentment, self-pity.  We’ll see how what makes these trances negative is the human relationship with the unconscious, and how by changing this relationship to a positive one you can transform them into positive trances.   Other trances are positive but non-transformative—you relax and get a genuine feeling of security, but it doesn’t really shift anything in your core patterns.  They’re ‘nice’ experiences that don’t really make a lasting difference.

I studied with Milton Erickson, while at the same time doing my graduate work in psychology at Stanford University, which then had the largest hypnosis laboratory in the world, run by the great experimental psychologist, Ernest Hilgard.  My graduate research used hypnosis, so I worked in this laboratory under Hilgard’s supervision.  This is where the famous standardized hypnotizability tests were developed.  So I had this interesting experience of running the standardized hypnotic inductions in the university lab, then visiting Erickson and experiencing a whole different type of trance.  To me, they are apples and oranges: the trances developed by standardized suggestion produce a qualitatively different type of trance experience compared to what you can and should be developing in a therapeutic setting, where the unique aspects of each client are the main ingredients for the ‘trance soup.’

The standardized inductions completely ignore the unique elements of a person, and rightfully so: they are primarily concerned with developing a relatively uniform experiential state so that traditional research can be done.  In therapy, of course, the goal is the opposite—you want to create a space where the unique strengths and dimensions of a client’s identity can be accessed and creatively worked with for transformation and healing.  You want to develop a trance where a person can go beyond their previous limitations and create something entirely new in their life.

This is ‘generative trance’.   It is an experiential state in which you’re deeply connected to the creative unconscious, but still have an intelligent conscious mind-presence to hold intention and creatively work with experiential patterning and re-patterning. Generative trance unites the unconscious mind and the conscious mind into a third ‘creative unconscious’ or ‘generative trance’ mind that has extraordinary properties and potentials.

Trance is naturalistic

Listen, are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?

While the soul, after all, is only a window,
and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the awakening from a little sleep.

Mary Oliver

Trance is fundamental to the nature of consciousness.  It is a state that humans must drop into periodically in order to renew, protect, re-create, and transform their identities.

This idea, central to Erickson’s work, is radically different from the traditional view, which defines trance as an experience that comes from something called ‘hypnosis.’  It’s thought to be a very artificial thing, an artifact of hypnotic technique or suggestion.  In other words, it is generally assumed that trance happens because a hypnotist says ‘Booga-booga-booga’ and because of these magical incantations, some strange exotic state begins to develop.  This state, in this way of thinking, is caused by, and controlled by an external person, the hypnotist.

Therapy is supposed to be a process of learning a greater sense of your own control and skills, of being able to take back projections, to claim responsibility for one’s way, of finding one’s own voice. The traditional idea of hypnosis is totally incongruent with that; it is another example of someone else defining your life or telling you what to do. So it is not surprising that many people, if you mention hypnosis to them, will be at least a little bit afraid, thinking, ‘I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be controlled by somebody else.  That’s the problem, not the solution.  I’m here to get beyond that, not to do more of it.’

This is why I generally no longer use the word hypnosis: it carries too many connotations of one person’s conscious mind controlling another person’s unconscious mind.  We are looking instead to open a creative, mutually respectful relationship between the conscious mind and creative unconscious, both between and within people.

In English, we have two different words for learning.   The first is ‘instruction,’ which means ‘to pack in.’  The second is ‘education’, which means ‘to draw out that which is already there.’  Generative trance, continuing Erickson’s tradition, orients to this second view.   So rather than seeing trance as some strange artificial state, we become curious about the many trance-like experiences that a person already has.  For example, it can be helpful to ask:

When you need to really connect with yourself, what are some of things that you do?

When were times when you lost track of time and all your worries?

Can you remember times when you felt a sense of wonderment?

For most people, the answers are not surprising: they include relatively low-cost, ordinary activities like reading, walking in nature, cooking, meditating, listening to or playing music, and so forth.  Each of these activities is an aesthetic practice for letting go of the control structures of the conscious mind and opening to the experiential absorption in something beyond your ego, namely, the intelligence of the creative unconscious.  That’s what we’re doing in trance work.  We attune to natural experiences and create a safe and resonant unified field that allows all parts of a systemic identity to be safely present.  We then add other ingredients—for example, resources and other positive experiences–and then stir the soup to discover how these different experiential patterns can blend together to make nourishing and transformational food for the soul.

Erickson’s understanding of trance did not come primarily from intellectual or conceptual awareness, it came from his own experience. It came from his immense curiosity and from his having to deal with the unusual set of challenges he faced in his life.  He decided that the best way to deal with his challenges was to accept them deeply, in a way that allowed him to become affectionate and curious about how each of these unique patterns could be gifts rather than curses; how they could really be positive aspects of his life rather than negative.

For example, when he developed polio, the doctors told him he would never move again.  He thought that was an interesting ‘suggestion’, and began a series of deep inner explorations.  He was 17, he knew nothing formally about ‘hypnosis’ or ‘trance’, but he knew how to use his imagination.  So he would go into these deep states of inner absorption and become curious about what he could learn.  He would find himself attuning to long-forgotten pleasurable experiences—for example, a memory of throwing a ball with his brothers when he was a child.  He didn’t know why he was remembering that, but some inner resonance seemed to encourage him to deeply immerse in that memory.  After weeks, sometimes months of doing so, something amazing would begin to happen: the muscles involved in that childhood memory began to reactivate in his present body.  In other words, the natural memory of throwing a ball became a central resource and reference structure for re-activating the same pattern in his present life. His trance was developed from simple, unforced experiences, and natural memories became the basis for a new learning.

Trance and other non-rational processes are psychobiologically necessary

I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I’ve been circling for thousands of years
and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?

Rainer Maria Rilke

In generative trance work, we are assuming that symptoms and all so-called pathologies are not only potentially positive, they are necessary for meaningful growth.  They are what in Gaelic is called anam cara, or ‘friends of the soul.’  The brain needs to go into non-rational states; a person needs to lose control at least occasionally.  Each life is an unfolding spiral of death and rebirth cycles.  Empires rise, empires fall; ego identity is stable, ego identity becomes unstable; you are in control, you are not in control.  When ego identity destablilizes, trance occurs spontaneously.  The main question is whether this happens in a positive or negative way.  In generative trance work we see how this can be done positively, including how seemingly negative trances can be turned into positive ones.

The idea that altered states of consciousness are integral to growth and health is beautifully expressed by Michael Ventura, an American writer who spent a year teaching poetry to high school students.  In recounting his experience, he talks about the central importance of art to human consciousness.  (In the quote, I have inserted the words ‘symptoms’ and ‘trance’ in brackets, because they apply perfectly.)  Here’s what he has to say:

“Why does art (and symptoms and trance) exist at all? In part at least art (and symptoms and trance) exists because normal daily life isn’t enough for anybody and it never has been. The student (like the client in the consulting room) isn’t wrong, isn’t a freak, to be frustrated with the limits of daily life. Everything that humanity is proud of, and many of the things that it has good reasons to be ashamed of, comes from testing and breaking those limits. Something in the world, something that human beings both express and shape and store in art (and symptoms and trance) is constantly communicating to us that there’s something more. And it doesn’t merely invite us to change, but tells us that we must. That’s the starting point, that’s the central point of art’s (and symptoms’ and trance’s) spiritual geography – that at any moment you can step out of the state that you’re into and do something more intense, even exalted. In this way, poetry (and trance) is a preventive medicine against the incredibly debilitating disease of the idealization of the normal. At the least poetry and art (and trance and symptoms) are teaching that it is normal for the normal to be fragile, to break apart at any moment into one or more of its many paradoxical elements. Poetry (and trance) teaches you always to be on the lookout for the extraordinary in the so-called ‘normal.’ And this indeed is a healing knowledge.”  (words in italics added)

There is great wisdom in these words.   Whenever the limitations of the conscious identity state are too strong, the creative unconscious will step forward to bring new experiences and resources.  The specific form, meaning and value of the experience is determined by the human connection to it.  One of the crucial ideas of generative trance is:

An experiential pattern from the creative unconscious can be positive or negative, depending on the human connection to it.

In other words, there is no innate meaning or value to any experience.  To reiterate from an earlier blog, reality is constructed by an observing (human consciousness) interacting with the quantum world of the creative unconscious.  More plainly stated the state you’re in when you connect with an experiential pattern determines its meaning, value, form, and subsequent folding.

If an experience seems to have no positive value, it reflects a relationship history in which the pattern was not positively valued.

For example, let’s consider sexuality, a core energy and pattern of each human being.  At its core level, it is beyond “good” or “bad”, it just is.  Let’s now imagine that sexual energy first awakening in a young boy, and it being witnessed by his family and social environment.  If met with negative human presence (e.g., hostility, anxiety), that relational connection will create a negative experience of sexuality in the boy.  That resulting identity image may be further reinforced, leading to a negative sexual identity that plays out in various ways as an adult.  But the negative sexual behaviors as an adult doesn’t mean his sexuality is inherently bad, just that the previous human relational connections with it were negative.

This is where trance work can be helpful: it allows the previous psychological frames to be released (this is what an induction is for), and new frames to be developed, resulting in a more positive identity map to be experienced and expressing.  This allows us to distinguish (1) the psychobiologically necessary experience of trance from (2) the psychosocial human relational context (such as hypnosis) used to shape it and give it value.

Hypnosis is a context for humanizing and shaping trance

At every moment a new species arises in the chest –
Now a demon, now an angel, now a wild animal.

There are also those in this amazing jungle
who can absorb you into their own surrender.
If you have to stalk and steal something,
steal from them.

Rumi, “A goat kneels”

Trance can be negative or positive, depending on the human presence connecting with it.  It can take many forms: In Africa, trances often involve wild shaking; in Bali, they are expressed as sensual possession trances; in the West, trances most often involve an immobile or slumped body following the verbal commands of the outside expert (‘’hypnotist”).

This infinite variety of forms and functions of trance allows us to see clearly the difference between trance and hypnosis.  Trance is the psychobiologically essential experience of human consciousness that occurs whenever ego identity is destabilized, while hypnosis is one of the psycho-social rituals that give human shape and form and meaning to the trance.  Trance is the experience, hypnosis is the context.  And of course as this context changes, the experiential form and meaning of trance changes.

Seeing that the quality of a trance experience is a function of the human context in which it is held, we can then see the “negative trance” of a symptom reflects the degraded state of consciousness in which the creative unconscious is being held. For example, if you are caught in the neuromuscular lock of “fight, flight, or freeze”, any experience that arises will tend to be experienced and expressed in a negative fashion.  More important, if you can put primary emphasis on developing and then maintaining a high level generative state of “creative flow,” any experience that arises can be “invited to tea” and met with confidence, curiosity, resourcefulness, and transformational skill.  This is the core underlying premise of Milton Erickson’s principle: that a negative experience can be transformed into a positive one by virtue of bringing it into a high state of consciousness—that is, a generative trance—where it is engaged with creative acceptance, skillful sponsorship, and genuine respect and curiosity.  This is the promise of the work, and the beauty of the practice.

Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.
May 10, 2011

NOTE: Generative Trance is the primary topic of this year’s Trance Camp, held in July in San Diego.  You can attend one, two, or all three weeks of this special intensive training. Click here for further information.