The Mystical Side of Meditation: What Happens When We Venture Beyond the Thinking Mind?

I’ve been meditating for more than two decades, and one of the things that continues to fascinate me is how much there still is to explore about consciousness.

Most of us are familiar with the scientifically studied benefits of meditation. Better emotional regulation, reduced stress, improved attention, and changes in how we respond to difficult experiences. As a physician, I find this research fascinating, and it’s certainly part of what drew me to meditation in the first place.

But I’ve always been equally intrigued by the mystical aspects of meditation. The experiences that are difficult to describe, sometimes impossible to explain, and often deeply meaningful to the person having them.

My curiosity about all of this started long before I became a meditation teacher.

When I was in college, I read Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda, and I remember being completely captivated. Yogananda’s accounts of extraordinary spiritual experiences opened up an entirely different way of thinking about consciousness.

Having grown up in India, I was already familiar with stories and experiences that didn’t always fit neatly into a logical framework. Spirituality and mysticism were woven into the culture around me, and I had witnessed things that left me with plenty of questions.

Reading that book gave me even more to wonder about.

Decades later, I still find myself returning to some of those same questions. What is consciousness, really? How much of our experience is shaped by the limitations of our senses? And what might become available to us when the mind becomes very, very quiet?

Those Strange and Beautiful Moments in Meditation

If you’ve practiced meditation for any length of time, perhaps you’ve experienced something unusual.

You might have noticed a soft humming or vibration in your body. Maybe you’ve seen light behind your closed eyes, experienced a sense of vastness, or temporarily lost your usual awareness of time.

Some people describe feeling as though the boundaries of their bodies have softened or disappeared. Others experience a profound sense of love, gratitude, or connection that seems to arise out of nowhere.

I’ve heard many descriptions of these experiences over the years, and what fascinates me is how often people hesitate to talk about them. Sometimes they’re worried that what happened was strange, or they simply can’t find the language to describe it.

These kinds of experiences have been documented across contemplative traditions for centuries. Yogic philosophy, Buddhism, Sufism, and Christian mysticism all contain descriptions of unusual states of consciousness, although each tradition interprets them through its own philosophical and spiritual lens.

There’s also a growing scientific interest in understanding the changes in perception, bodily awareness, and sense of self that can occur during meditation.

I love that we can explore these experiences from multiple perspectives. My medical training makes me curious about what’s happening in the brain and nervous system. My background in yoga and meditation invites me to consider the philosophical and spiritual interpretations that have been around for thousands of years.

And I can hold both of those perspectives with curiosity.

What Do the Yoga Sutras Teach Us About Mysticism?

The ancient Yoga Sutras of Patanjali offer a fascinating framework for understanding meditation as a practice that can lead to increasingly subtle states of awareness.

The last three limbs of the eight-limbed path of yoga are dharana, dhyana, and samadhi.

Dharana refers to concentration, the ability to focus our attention on a single object or point. As concentration deepens and becomes more continuous, we move into dhyana, or meditation.

Samadhi is traditionally described as a state of profound absorption, where the usual distinction between the observer and the object of awareness becomes less apparent.

I find this especially interesting because most of us spend our entire lives experiencing the world through the lens of a separate self. We’re constantly interpreting, evaluating, remembering, planning, and reacting.

Even when we’re sitting quietly, there’s usually a running commentary happening somewhere in the background.

In deeper meditative states, that commentary can become remarkably quiet. Our ordinary experience of ourselves may begin to shift, sometimes in ways that are difficult to put into words.

Patanjali goes even further in the third book of the Yoga Sutras, where he discusses siddhis, extraordinary capacities or unusual forms of perception traditionally associated with advanced contemplative practice.

These include descriptions of heightened intuition, unusual knowledge, and forms of perception that appear to extend beyond the ordinary senses.

There are also accounts in various spiritual traditions of past-life experiences and extraordinary physical abilities. Yogananda’s Autobiography of a Yogi contains plenty of such stories.

Of course, these claims have very different levels of scientific support, and many remain outside what modern science can verify. I think it’s important to acknowledge that while remaining open to the possibility that our understanding of consciousness will continue to evolve.

One of the most interesting aspects of Patanjali’s discussion of siddhis is his warning about becoming attached to them.

And I have a story about that.

When a Meditation Experience Becomes a Spreadsheet

Years ago, when I first began teaching mantra meditation, I had a student who was very enthusiastic about her practice.

She was also an exceptionally organized person.

At one point, she started keeping a spreadsheet documenting the occasions when she believed she’d experienced turiya, a state of pure awareness described in Vedantic philosophy, or had caught a glimpse of her soul.

Yes, an actual spreadsheet.

I remember finding this both endearing and incredibly revealing.

Because if you’re a high-achieving person who’s spent much of your life setting goals, tracking progress, and working toward measurable outcomes, it’s almost inevitable that some of those habits will find their way into meditation.

You have an extraordinary experience and naturally wonder how to recreate it. Maybe you meditate longer the next day. Perhaps you start paying closer attention to the conditions that led up to it.

Before long, you might find yourself evaluating each meditation based on whether something special happened.

I’ve seen variations of this many times over the years, and I understand the temptation.

A beautiful meditation experience can leave us wanting more.

But one of the central teachings of yoga is vairagya, or non-attachment. It’s paired with abhyasa, the commitment to consistent practice.

We continue showing up, day after day, while learning to loosen our expectations about what should happen.

Some meditation sessions feel incredibly peaceful. Others are filled with thoughts, distractions, and an almost comical amount of mental activity.

And every once in a while, we might experience something that feels extraordinary.

The practice is to keep showing up through all of it.

What Do We Actually Do With Mystical Experiences?

Let’s say you’ve had one of these experiences. Maybe you’ve felt a profound sense of unity or connection. Perhaps something happened during meditation that seemed to transcend your ordinary understanding of time, space, or awareness.

Now what?

I encourage my students to approach these experiences with curiosity and gratitude. You can reflect on what happened, perhaps write about it, and notice whether it changes anything about how you experience yourself or the world.

And then you go about your life.

You eat lunch. Walk the dog. Answer emails. Deal with the inevitable challenges that come with being human.

I think the integration of these experiences into everyday life deserves far more attention than it usually gets.

After all, what happens when we return to our relationships, responsibilities, and ordinary routines?

Perhaps we find ourselves responding with a little more patience during a difficult conversation. Maybe we’re less consumed by the anxious voice in our heads. We might notice that we’re becoming more compassionate toward ourselves or less reactive when things don’t go according to plan.

These are meaningful changes, and they’re also much easier to recognize in the course of everyday life.

The yogic teachings place tremendous importance on qualities such as friendliness, compassion, and equanimity. These are wonderful ways to observe how our contemplative practice is influencing the way we live.

I also think grounding is important, particularly after an intense or unusual meditation experience. Spending time outdoors, moving your body, eating a nourishing meal, and connecting with other people can help us integrate what we’ve experienced.

And from my perspective as a physician, it’s worth remembering that unusual perceptual experiences can have many causes. If meditation experiences become frightening, destabilizing, or interfere with everyday functioning, seeking guidance from an experienced teacher or qualified healthcare professional is wise.

Making Room for Mystery

One thing I’ve noticed over the years is how uncomfortable many of us are with uncertainty.

We want explanations. We want to understand why something happened, what it means, and whether it will happen again.

I certainly understand that impulse. I’ve spent much of my professional life practicing medicine, where asking questions, gathering evidence, and looking for explanations are essential.

And yet, meditation has helped me become increasingly comfortable with the possibility that I won’t understand everything I experience.

There are aspects of consciousness that science is still working to understand. There are spiritual teachings that have explored these questions for thousands of years. And there are personal experiences that can feel deeply significant even when we don’t have a clear explanation for them.

I find that incredibly interesting.

I also think there’s something beautiful about allowing ourselves to experience wonder.

When was the last time you encountered something that left you genuinely amazed?

Maybe it was during meditation. Maybe it was standing outside looking at the night sky, listening to music that moved you to tears, or feeling an unexpected sense of connection with another human being.

Those moments remind me how rich and mysterious this experience of being alive really is.

And I wonder whether our meditation practices help us become more receptive to them.

You don’t need decades of meditation experience to begin exploring this. You can start exactly where you are, with a few minutes of quiet attention and a willingness to notice what arises.

Some days, that might be a profound sense of peace. Other days, you’ll spend the entire meditation thinking about your grocery list.

And occasionally, something might happen that leaves you with more questions than answers.

I hope you’ll allow yourself to be curious about all of it.

Because after more than twenty years of meditation, I still feel like I’m discovering new dimensions of this practice.

And I suspect I always will.