THE MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE
The Paths
It is indeed, and by definition, an oxymoron (a figure that consists of uniting contradictory concepts) to try to "objectively define" the "ineffable mystical experience"; it is ineffable because it does not fit, in its totality, within the cognitive context where logical thought and language, reason, occur — something well recognized by Stace:
«It is evident that our investigation of whether mystical states have common characteristics is empirical; we cannot expect any universal or a priori absolutism as in mathematical models… Any honest writer familiar with mystical experiences knows that the common rules of human thought are entirely irreconcilable, that they break the rules of logic» — Stace, W. T., in "Mysticism and Philosophy".
This special state of consciousness seems to be achievable in distinct ways: spontaneously, through contemplative, meditative states, and also "artificially" — with the aid of psychoactive substances that, in indigenous cultures, are used in a ritualistic and controlled manner. As Bergson describes, while the analytical mind fragments reality, intuition apprehends it as a totality — and this would be, in essence, the form of knowing proper to the mystical experience.
The role of intention is fundamental: the mystical experience does not happen "by chance" — it requires an internal attitude of openness, of surrender, and of seeking. It is a state of "expanded and dilated consciousness"; and this praxis can be contextualized and oriented in an "internal" or "external" manner.
We can perhaps speak of "paths" or "ways": the "inner path", that of those who meditate, of philosophers, hermits and theists; and, on the other hand, the "outer path", that of contemplatives, artists, naturalists, and pantheists.
I use the word "contemplation" in the sense of the absorption of the gaze and the mind; for example, in the beauty of a flower.
«Running through the garden, I suddenly noticed a lily. I stopped abruptly, fascinated by the brightness and beauty of this floral being. The deep blue and yellow of the flower spread into sky and sun in the creative universe of the child, all orchestrated by the song of the nightingale and the cicada. Awakened by the rain, I forgot what I had to harvest and went back to my mother: — I saw a flower! — Go get the radishes right now, my son!»