Sometimes, through body modification and our rituals, we experience something which is hard to describe to others. In fact, it can be difficult for us to understand ourselves. Some people describe it as a detachment from the world while others say they feel a deep union with the entire universe. Is this a mystical experience, some sort of spiritual awakening? Or is it simply the body’s endorphins playing tricks on us?
This question of “Is it spiritual or is it just chemicals?” creates a false choice. It suggests that if we can explain the biological mechanism, the experience is somehow less real, less valid. But the truth is, the physical and the spiritual are not in competition. They are two languages telling the same sacred story.
The Language of the Body
Let’s be clear: the body’s response to intense sensation is powerful and real. During a long tattoo session, a suspension, or a firewalk, our systems flood with adrenaline and endorphins. This is our body’s innate survival kit. It’s a chemical cascade that dulls pain, sharpens focus, and can create a feeling of euphoria and detachment.
To say an experience is “just endorphins” is like saying a masterpiece is “just paint.” It describes the material, but completely misses the meaning. The endorphins are not a trick; they are the physical pathway. They are the ink with which a profound experience can be written upon our consciousness.
The Hallmarks of a Mystical Moment
Over a century ago, the psychologist and philosopher William James took on the task of trying to define these powerful moments. In his book, The Varieties of Religious Experience, he identified four key hallmarks of a mystical experience. As you read them, see if they sound familiar.
- Ineffability: The experience defies expression. It cannot be properly described in words, and it must be directly experienced to be understood.
- Noetic Quality: The person feels they have learned something profound, a deep insight into truths that are usually hidden. It is a moment of revelation.
- Transiency: The state cannot be sustained for long. It is a fleeting, temporary peak.
- Passivity: The person feels as if their own will is in suspension, as if they are being grasped and held by a superior power.
Does this not perfectly describe the feeling of a suspension, when the world melts away and you are held by nothing but the hooks? Does it not echo the state one can enter during a scarification, where a profound clarity emerges from the fire? Our rites often tick every single one of James’s boxes.
Reaching the Peak
Decades later, the psychologist Abraham H. Maslow explored this further in Religions, Values, and Peak-Experiences. Maslow argued that these powerful, transcendent moments, which he called “peak experiences”, were not the exclusive property of organized religion. They are a human birthright, available to anyone.
Maslow believed that peak experiences are moments of intense joy, wonder, and awe, where a person feels more whole, more alive, and more connected to the world. He separated the experience itself from the religious or theological framework people might use to explain it. For Maslow, the peak was the point. An atheist could have a peak experience watching a beautiful sunset, just as a monk could through prayer.
This is where our work finds its place. Our rituals, with the deliberate use of pain, endurance, and the body, are powerful triggers for these peak experiences. We are not praying to an external god; we are creating the conditions for a profound internal event.
The next time you are in a rite and the world shifts, when you feel that unspeakable connection or serene detachment, do not ask if it is real or just a chemical reaction. It is both. The chemicals are the mechanism. The feeling is the truth. You are having a peak experience, a mystical moment, written in the language of your own body.
