This is extremely timely for me. So much so, that I hesitated to try and respond. The term numinous was just given to me to explain something that was consuming my thoughts. In a previous post I mentioned a “dream” I had during a very dark time. It was the most beautiful “constellation” moving through the sky. (A serious of circles and lines in motion). I tried to recreate it in a drawing with poor results. But, the effect was overwhelming peace and reassurance. The original “dream” was about 40 years ago and I still look for it in the night sky. Several months ago I came across a picture of it in an article. It was labeled “Metatron”. Please know that I am a very practical and “linear brained” individual. Accounting is my thing. 🥴. That said, I am processing and learning and continue to be comforted and grateful for this peaceful gift in my life. I find your current question very significant in this, as well. Thank you.
I was at a 10 day silent retreat about a dozen years ago. I was quite new to images and letting in the numinous with poetry. It was in February on an island in Canada. The season was not one of going to the beach, but my soul craved the largeness of the ocean. I decided to pack my lunch in a big grocery shopping bag along with my pen, journal and blankets to wrap myself in while I sat on long driftwood log. I had, a few days previous, been given the image of myself being 'the rose'. It was an odd thought to me. I spoke to my spiritual director and she affirmed what I was sensing by saying "of course, you are the rose". I found I still couldn't accept this revelation. So, sitting on the log, my grocery bag at my feet, wrapped in blankets and looking at the grey ocean, my journal on my lap with pen in hand, I had a very active interaction with my creator and the environment. I asked, "Am I The Rose"? and recorded the question in my journal. Then I felt a breeze pick up and proceeded to write what happened in real time. "A breeze has just picked up and now there is a bee that has just landed on the tip of my pen, now it is exploring my grocery bag and now my legs and...just doing what bees do." I started to doubt that it was significant to me being the rose. And then the doubt was erased by what happened next and I wrote "the bee now flew up and hit me right between the eyes (on the centre frame) of my reading glasses. I wrote "Ok, I believe and will not doubt any more. I am The Rose". That was in February in Canada and not the season for bees by any stretch of the imagination and the breeze came just as I asked my first question. I long for more of these luminous experiences. Thank you Susan for this opportunity to remember and share.
Thank you for asking. It was a few things together. 1) The song, The Rose by Bette Midler: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Wsqdfwthmk. My beautiful, adventurous daughter who is full of life and love, and is also my hero, made a CD recording with her own voice and a musician friend, of The Rose for me. I cry every time I hear the words of this beautiful song. 2) I had a bathing suit at the retreat, the fabric of which had red roses on it and it kept speaking to me! 3) The favourite flower in my garden is a beautiful red rose with the most amazing scent. I am drawn to it every time I see it in bloom and I watch it and wait for it to blossom. I spoke to one of my sons today and was sharing about hearing from you and my response in this discussion. He confirmed that, of course, I am the rose as well as being my nickname Herzi....which means heart. He said that I can not separate the two. The other song of England's Rose by Elton John also moves me to tears. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1o9rLDCfO6o. Do you like these songs?
Jung's seem to point toward duality, which it seems we humans can't escape. If only stepping into numinosity could release us from our pathologies....we live in the dance in between, aspiring toward one pole while being transfixed by the other. I think we seek the person who is seeking, not some constant state of bliss, and our "pathologies" are probably our best teacher, if we are listening and can accept their lessons.
I love this from T.S. Elliot, and it perhaps points toward numinous:
"At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.”
I have had a few experiences or shifts that I would probably describe as numinous - one came after a silent retreat with Thich Nhat Hahn. I had been very stressed at work in healthcare and was drawn as directly as I have ever been into presence at the retreat. As I rode my bike to work the day after the retreat I suddenly heard many crows screaming in a tree (it felt like at me - was it real or just my story? Mystery..) and I looked up and was pulled into their presence, or presence itself. The moment was intense and hard to describe. I had passed that tree a thousand times without ever noticing it. The crows took all flight and I was released from the spell and felt awe and fear. That moment felt like it was between two worlds. The symbolism of their flight to me was that I was stepping out of a period of profund presence and consciousness with a spiritual teacher back into the chaos of US healthcare, and that I would face great challenge in not losing that level of presence again, of devolving back into ego trance and role play. The series of events that followed, including a staggering bout with anxiety, deconstructed me into signifigant vulnarability and mortality, helped me shift my relationship with my career and with life itself, and probably saved mine.
You are the second person recently to recommend Burnt Norton- and now I can’t recall the context of the first recommendation but I do recall that it really struck me.
Numinosity often hits me when I should be sleeping. I awake with creative energy and ideas I didn't have before - and I have to get up and act on it. Something very different, but fitting in with the "idea of the Holy," is when I notice human-made things, inventions, etc. and wonder about the person(s) who came up with the ideas and those who did the actual work that brings such order and beauty into our lives. And I say - thank you.
I just wrote a piece on my Substack (I am new to posting my writing) about my experience over 50 years ago, finding awe in the Sinai desert. I shared the narrow passage between terror and transcendence. I described it as a 'Sacred Ache.'
Today, I am in Kilkenny, Ireland and reading Niall Williams' This is Happiness. Such a juxtaposition. In the Sinai I felt a hair's breadth away from death and all the edges of fear. Here in Ireland, reading Willliams' magnificent prose, I am so very close to the numinous quality of awe. Verdant, glistening and so alive.
Thank you for the suggestion. I will need to explore that more. It's a worthy try as I loved the violin, saxophone, drums, Beethoven, taught piano lessons and yet I no longer play. I do have a profound hearing loss and am scheduled for a hearing specialist on Oct. 2. I seem to hear now in the silence and through story and images. I love the vast images, the ocean, the fire in the fireplace, the beauty of creation, sunshine, life and growth.
I have loved pondering the numinous since I was in divinity school. Rudolf Otto certainly captured my attention then and continues to do so as his words help me understand my own experiences better & the experience of others. As an episcopal priest I was curious about the numinous, and now as an EMDR therapist, I find myself even more so for the very statement you shared from Carl Jung. I've been fortunate to have several numinous experiences in my life. Most of them come in the form of dreams that feel like a real connection between the Divine and my soul. Except for a brief time when someone was preying upon my connection with the Divine, I've been humbled and blessed by how the numinous has touched my soul and my life. Thank you for sharing this topic!
Numinous is one of my favorite words! Numinous Nature is a mantra for me. I often find transcendent moments in nature and music. I believe that all things in nature are imbued with spirit, which has made all the difference in my life.
I had a near death experience driving in Wyoming in an accident with a semi-truck. All 3 of us survived magically. As our vehicles came to a stop, we were too stunned to get out of the car & truck. Literal white tunnel...I started to go there, very compelling, and then didn't. Still alive, still stunned & profoundly grateful. Also, no fear of dying :)
Thank you for this Susan. It usually takes me a while to ponder the subject. Sometimes it seems too much in the middle of my "day". I checked out the definition of numinous first, and then had a memory of an experience come to me right away.
Most of my thinking, searching, growing, has been in the time after my son died in the Iraq war 21 years ago. I feel I need to start there, as it helps me feel that my thoughts are not reckless and all over the place. It can look like that on the surface after the loss of a loved one, but underneath, the bricks are being put back into place, and one thought leads to a new chapter of thinking. I'll always be on this path as healing is ongoing. It is a new mix each day.
The experience that came to mind happened 3-4 years after my son died. We had moved, stressful in itself, and I was adjusting, and grieving at the same time. Many agree grief is two steps forward one step back (or any combination of steps), so sometimes big things reveal themselves at times when we are stuck.
My son was 21 at the time he died. Young, seeking, brave. I believe he "grew up" in his short time in the military. I worried about physical and mental harm from war, and hoped that I had given him a safe upbringing, and feeling of being loved. In honest prayer, I did not want to ask for "signs", but needed to know that my son had been "ok and well" during his deployment. I asked for HELP to know and feel that was so. At that moment, through tears, I looked up (I was on a neighborhood walk), and was standing in front of a street sign that had an arrow pointing UP next to "7th St". It was backdropped by the most illuminated sunset with clouds, color, and shining from the sun...on the clouds and in rays. It just stopped me, and I felt peace. I consider that my answer, and sign. I knew it wouldn't be the same, but I vowed to come again when the weather was close to looking like that (end of the day) and take a photo of that sign with sunset to remember. I don't think I can attach a photo here, but I will try, so I can share. It is one of my heart's treasures.
Thank you, Susan, for providing a prompt for me to put it down in words. And for the word to put with it! Numinous ❤
what a story, Laurie. I'm so sorry for the loss of your son. And I would love to see your photo at some point (it's very frustrating that there's now way to attach images to these comments).
Thank you Susan. I appreciated being introduced to the word Numinous. It is very hard to express the experience in words. I love the spiritual experience, and now have a word to explain it. Just that is numinous! Have a blessed day.
Amazing quote from Carl Jung that I had not run into before. It reminds me of Cal Berkeley Prof. Dacher Keltner's beautiful work on wonder and awe, which we all need and deserve in our lives. Susan, thank you for sharing your story of being graced with numinosity, including the part about how you'd lost the desire to write and then it came rushing back. So encouraging. Well, some may think me crazy, but the unforgettable numinous experience I had concerned double-crested cormorants. At the time we lived across from Almaden Lake in San Jose (which I'd been told was a filled-in quicksilver quarry from the Gold Rush days, when quicksilver (mercury) was trucked up into the Sierra because it was used to separate gold from other ores. Anyway, all manner of seabirds would hang out on Almaden Lake, because it was just over the Santa Cruz Mountains from the Pacific. I would often walk or ride my bike around it and then along the Los Alamitos Creek Trail deeper into Almaden Valley. At other times I would meditate on a bench by the lake that looked across it and the seabirds on it to the coastal hills. So beautiful. During my lakeside times, I started noticing these fantastic, deep-diving fisher birds that would dive down and never resurface in the same place. I loved guessing where they'd pop up. I'd often sit down on the bench in the evenings just to watch them, mostly when they were fishing but also when they were standing around on rocks with their wings spread, unlike other seabirds whose feathers don't get waterlogged. Later, when I was walking along the shored of a Saturday, I noticed a bunch of birders walking toward me and stopped to ask what this bird's name was. Yay! I was delighted I finally knew. Ok, that's the backstory. The numinous part is this.... I'd read Martha Beck's book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World where she described how to "call in" an animal you'd like to spend time with or see more of. There is so much more to the book than this, but this one late afternoon, I thought I'd try to "call in" some cormorants. Martha instructs readers that it works this way: When you're out in nature, simply let the critter you love know, silently, respectfully, that you'd love to see them and then drop it, move on and see what happens. So I got on my bike and, as I was riding around the lake, I let the cormorants know that I'd love to see them when I'm back from my ride. I then went on my beautiful ride along the creek and doubled back to the bench, arriving about 30 min. later. I parked my bike next to the bench and just sat there loving the view before me, free of any expectations. Within a min. or two, I noticed a number of birds flying above me. I looked up, and they were cormorants! I'd never before seen more than 4-5 diving and surfacing before, but this time it seemed like bird fireworks! Around a dozen splash-landed and started diving and surfacing before me. It was pure grace just to sit there and watch their seabird virtuosity, which of course to them was just another sunset fishing session. Wondrous. <3
This is a rich and wonderful topic. It reminded me of a phrase I noted years ago about being an "apprentice to mystery." I also thought of Susan's post "Seven ways to find awe, every single day" from last October. For me, seeking moments of awe, as well as staying open to it, allows experiences of the numinous to occur more often.
I had to look up the meaning of numinous and I found it to be interesting, although I don't consider myself religious I do consider myself spiritual and so I took from the definition that perspective.
And with that perspective I thought about the things in my life that have moved my spirit or spoken to my spirit and in turn became my real therapy. What I find fascinating, for myself only, is that those things were rooted in nature and the nature of being. Being in awe of the majestic mountains. Feeling my heart fill with joy at the sound of a babies laughter. Nothing material or even news worthy just plain and simple and alive and awe inspiring.
I feel very blessed to live in a world where I can still find a spark of numinous in every day life. And I make a choice each and every day to be in awe of the world I get to be a part of.
Ah, numinous! Sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Nothing but water, sky and our sailboat. Predawn sitting alone in the cockpit as the sun rises on one horizon and the moon sets on the opposite horizon.
I’ve long loved Uncle Carl. I worked with a Jungian analyst for some time, and Jung’s giant Red Book lives on our coffee table. Every so often—usually when I’m aching for reassurance—I open it at random and land on a line that feels like it was written just for me and just for that moment.
Still, something about this quote on the "approach to the numinous" being the “real therapy” feels unsettling. It feels like it’s missing a crucial nuance.
While I do agree that to fully show up for the loss-laced, impermanent human experience—is nearly impossible without being tethered to something vast and eternal. Numinous. Something that invites us to live our way into a story larger than ourselves. Something that makes the “full catastrophe” of being human not just bearable, but luminous with awe.
And yet—without tending to our neuroses, without building the scaffolding of a sturdy ego and grounded identity—the numinous can become dangerous. A “non-rational, non-sensory state that pulls us outside the self” may look like transcendence, but it can just as easily be dissociation. And dissociation, left untended, can not only “not release us from the curse of pathology,” it can tip into psychosis.
It doesn’t take much. Sufficient lack of sleep can produce this state in anyone. (I’ve been there, don’t recommend it).
That’s why I imagine Jung—and the Kabbalists—warned against diving too deep into mysticism before midlife. There’s wisdom in waiting until the ego is formed enough to withstand the dissolving.
Thank you, Susan, as always, for pulling me out of my day and into reflection. I treasure the chance to engage with you—and with this thoughtful community—in ways that keep drawing me toward deeper clarity on the questions that matter most to me.
Such fascinating reflections, Julia, thank you. (And I think all the time about this warning not to dive in too early in life- a warning which frustrated me when I was in my 20s.)
This is extremely timely for me. So much so, that I hesitated to try and respond. The term numinous was just given to me to explain something that was consuming my thoughts. In a previous post I mentioned a “dream” I had during a very dark time. It was the most beautiful “constellation” moving through the sky. (A serious of circles and lines in motion). I tried to recreate it in a drawing with poor results. But, the effect was overwhelming peace and reassurance. The original “dream” was about 40 years ago and I still look for it in the night sky. Several months ago I came across a picture of it in an article. It was labeled “Metatron”. Please know that I am a very practical and “linear brained” individual. Accounting is my thing. 🥴. That said, I am processing and learning and continue to be comforted and grateful for this peaceful gift in my life. I find your current question very significant in this, as well. Thank you.
I was at a 10 day silent retreat about a dozen years ago. I was quite new to images and letting in the numinous with poetry. It was in February on an island in Canada. The season was not one of going to the beach, but my soul craved the largeness of the ocean. I decided to pack my lunch in a big grocery shopping bag along with my pen, journal and blankets to wrap myself in while I sat on long driftwood log. I had, a few days previous, been given the image of myself being 'the rose'. It was an odd thought to me. I spoke to my spiritual director and she affirmed what I was sensing by saying "of course, you are the rose". I found I still couldn't accept this revelation. So, sitting on the log, my grocery bag at my feet, wrapped in blankets and looking at the grey ocean, my journal on my lap with pen in hand, I had a very active interaction with my creator and the environment. I asked, "Am I The Rose"? and recorded the question in my journal. Then I felt a breeze pick up and proceeded to write what happened in real time. "A breeze has just picked up and now there is a bee that has just landed on the tip of my pen, now it is exploring my grocery bag and now my legs and...just doing what bees do." I started to doubt that it was significant to me being the rose. And then the doubt was erased by what happened next and I wrote "the bee now flew up and hit me right between the eyes (on the centre frame) of my reading glasses. I wrote "Ok, I believe and will not doubt any more. I am The Rose". That was in February in Canada and not the season for bees by any stretch of the imagination and the breeze came just as I asked my first question. I long for more of these luminous experiences. Thank you Susan for this opportunity to remember and share.
Wow, Agatha.
And I am curious to know: from whence came the image of you being "the rose"?
Thank you for asking. It was a few things together. 1) The song, The Rose by Bette Midler: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Wsqdfwthmk. My beautiful, adventurous daughter who is full of life and love, and is also my hero, made a CD recording with her own voice and a musician friend, of The Rose for me. I cry every time I hear the words of this beautiful song. 2) I had a bathing suit at the retreat, the fabric of which had red roses on it and it kept speaking to me! 3) The favourite flower in my garden is a beautiful red rose with the most amazing scent. I am drawn to it every time I see it in bloom and I watch it and wait for it to blossom. I spoke to one of my sons today and was sharing about hearing from you and my response in this discussion. He confirmed that, of course, I am the rose as well as being my nickname Herzi....which means heart. He said that I can not separate the two. The other song of England's Rose by Elton John also moves me to tears. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1o9rLDCfO6o. Do you like these songs?
Thank you for this.
I really identify with Einstein's words.
Jung's seem to point toward duality, which it seems we humans can't escape. If only stepping into numinosity could release us from our pathologies....we live in the dance in between, aspiring toward one pole while being transfixed by the other. I think we seek the person who is seeking, not some constant state of bliss, and our "pathologies" are probably our best teacher, if we are listening and can accept their lessons.
I love this from T.S. Elliot, and it perhaps points toward numinous:
"At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.”
I have had a few experiences or shifts that I would probably describe as numinous - one came after a silent retreat with Thich Nhat Hahn. I had been very stressed at work in healthcare and was drawn as directly as I have ever been into presence at the retreat. As I rode my bike to work the day after the retreat I suddenly heard many crows screaming in a tree (it felt like at me - was it real or just my story? Mystery..) and I looked up and was pulled into their presence, or presence itself. The moment was intense and hard to describe. I had passed that tree a thousand times without ever noticing it. The crows took all flight and I was released from the spell and felt awe and fear. That moment felt like it was between two worlds. The symbolism of their flight to me was that I was stepping out of a period of profund presence and consciousness with a spiritual teacher back into the chaos of US healthcare, and that I would face great challenge in not losing that level of presence again, of devolving back into ego trance and role play. The series of events that followed, including a staggering bout with anxiety, deconstructed me into signifigant vulnarability and mortality, helped me shift my relationship with my career and with life itself, and probably saved mine.
And on and on we live and dance and seek.....:)
what a beautiful reflection - and T.S. Eliot's words too - which poem are they from?
Four Quartets 1: Burnt Norton:)
You are the second person recently to recommend Burnt Norton- and now I can’t recall the context of the first recommendation but I do recall that it really struck me.
Numinosity often hits me when I should be sleeping. I awake with creative energy and ideas I didn't have before - and I have to get up and act on it. Something very different, but fitting in with the "idea of the Holy," is when I notice human-made things, inventions, etc. and wonder about the person(s) who came up with the ideas and those who did the actual work that brings such order and beauty into our lives. And I say - thank you.
I so relate to this, Joanne.
How the universe conspires.
I just wrote a piece on my Substack (I am new to posting my writing) about my experience over 50 years ago, finding awe in the Sinai desert. I shared the narrow passage between terror and transcendence. I described it as a 'Sacred Ache.'
Today, I am in Kilkenny, Ireland and reading Niall Williams' This is Happiness. Such a juxtaposition. In the Sinai I felt a hair's breadth away from death and all the edges of fear. Here in Ireland, reading Willliams' magnificent prose, I am so very close to the numinous quality of awe. Verdant, glistening and so alive.
Goosebumps - thank you.
The "sacred ache" - that is it, exactly.
Unfortunately, not in awhile. It’s been too long.
I feel your pain, Angela. I long for more of the numinous too. I pray we both experience more of what we long for!
Angela and Agatha, I wonder, have you tried listening to music that moves you, alone in the evening?
Thank you for the suggestion. I will need to explore that more. It's a worthy try as I loved the violin, saxophone, drums, Beethoven, taught piano lessons and yet I no longer play. I do have a profound hearing loss and am scheduled for a hearing specialist on Oct. 2. I seem to hear now in the silence and through story and images. I love the vast images, the ocean, the fire in the fireplace, the beauty of creation, sunshine, life and growth.
No but I will!
I have loved pondering the numinous since I was in divinity school. Rudolf Otto certainly captured my attention then and continues to do so as his words help me understand my own experiences better & the experience of others. As an episcopal priest I was curious about the numinous, and now as an EMDR therapist, I find myself even more so for the very statement you shared from Carl Jung. I've been fortunate to have several numinous experiences in my life. Most of them come in the form of dreams that feel like a real connection between the Divine and my soul. Except for a brief time when someone was preying upon my connection with the Divine, I've been humbled and blessed by how the numinous has touched my soul and my life. Thank you for sharing this topic!
Numinous is one of my favorite words! Numinous Nature is a mantra for me. I often find transcendent moments in nature and music. I believe that all things in nature are imbued with spirit, which has made all the difference in my life.
I too believe all things in nature, all of creation is imbued with spirit.
I had a near death experience driving in Wyoming in an accident with a semi-truck. All 3 of us survived magically. As our vehicles came to a stop, we were too stunned to get out of the car & truck. Literal white tunnel...I started to go there, very compelling, and then didn't. Still alive, still stunned & profoundly grateful. Also, no fear of dying :)
Thank you for this Susan. It usually takes me a while to ponder the subject. Sometimes it seems too much in the middle of my "day". I checked out the definition of numinous first, and then had a memory of an experience come to me right away.
Most of my thinking, searching, growing, has been in the time after my son died in the Iraq war 21 years ago. I feel I need to start there, as it helps me feel that my thoughts are not reckless and all over the place. It can look like that on the surface after the loss of a loved one, but underneath, the bricks are being put back into place, and one thought leads to a new chapter of thinking. I'll always be on this path as healing is ongoing. It is a new mix each day.
The experience that came to mind happened 3-4 years after my son died. We had moved, stressful in itself, and I was adjusting, and grieving at the same time. Many agree grief is two steps forward one step back (or any combination of steps), so sometimes big things reveal themselves at times when we are stuck.
My son was 21 at the time he died. Young, seeking, brave. I believe he "grew up" in his short time in the military. I worried about physical and mental harm from war, and hoped that I had given him a safe upbringing, and feeling of being loved. In honest prayer, I did not want to ask for "signs", but needed to know that my son had been "ok and well" during his deployment. I asked for HELP to know and feel that was so. At that moment, through tears, I looked up (I was on a neighborhood walk), and was standing in front of a street sign that had an arrow pointing UP next to "7th St". It was backdropped by the most illuminated sunset with clouds, color, and shining from the sun...on the clouds and in rays. It just stopped me, and I felt peace. I consider that my answer, and sign. I knew it wouldn't be the same, but I vowed to come again when the weather was close to looking like that (end of the day) and take a photo of that sign with sunset to remember. I don't think I can attach a photo here, but I will try, so I can share. It is one of my heart's treasures.
Thank you, Susan, for providing a prompt for me to put it down in words. And for the word to put with it! Numinous ❤
what a story, Laurie. I'm so sorry for the loss of your son. And I would love to see your photo at some point (it's very frustrating that there's now way to attach images to these comments).
Thank you Susan. I appreciated being introduced to the word Numinous. It is very hard to express the experience in words. I love the spiritual experience, and now have a word to explain it. Just that is numinous! Have a blessed day.
Amazing quote from Carl Jung that I had not run into before. It reminds me of Cal Berkeley Prof. Dacher Keltner's beautiful work on wonder and awe, which we all need and deserve in our lives. Susan, thank you for sharing your story of being graced with numinosity, including the part about how you'd lost the desire to write and then it came rushing back. So encouraging. Well, some may think me crazy, but the unforgettable numinous experience I had concerned double-crested cormorants. At the time we lived across from Almaden Lake in San Jose (which I'd been told was a filled-in quicksilver quarry from the Gold Rush days, when quicksilver (mercury) was trucked up into the Sierra because it was used to separate gold from other ores. Anyway, all manner of seabirds would hang out on Almaden Lake, because it was just over the Santa Cruz Mountains from the Pacific. I would often walk or ride my bike around it and then along the Los Alamitos Creek Trail deeper into Almaden Valley. At other times I would meditate on a bench by the lake that looked across it and the seabirds on it to the coastal hills. So beautiful. During my lakeside times, I started noticing these fantastic, deep-diving fisher birds that would dive down and never resurface in the same place. I loved guessing where they'd pop up. I'd often sit down on the bench in the evenings just to watch them, mostly when they were fishing but also when they were standing around on rocks with their wings spread, unlike other seabirds whose feathers don't get waterlogged. Later, when I was walking along the shored of a Saturday, I noticed a bunch of birders walking toward me and stopped to ask what this bird's name was. Yay! I was delighted I finally knew. Ok, that's the backstory. The numinous part is this.... I'd read Martha Beck's book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World where she described how to "call in" an animal you'd like to spend time with or see more of. There is so much more to the book than this, but this one late afternoon, I thought I'd try to "call in" some cormorants. Martha instructs readers that it works this way: When you're out in nature, simply let the critter you love know, silently, respectfully, that you'd love to see them and then drop it, move on and see what happens. So I got on my bike and, as I was riding around the lake, I let the cormorants know that I'd love to see them when I'm back from my ride. I then went on my beautiful ride along the creek and doubled back to the bench, arriving about 30 min. later. I parked my bike next to the bench and just sat there loving the view before me, free of any expectations. Within a min. or two, I noticed a number of birds flying above me. I looked up, and they were cormorants! I'd never before seen more than 4-5 diving and surfacing before, but this time it seemed like bird fireworks! Around a dozen splash-landed and started diving and surfacing before me. It was pure grace just to sit there and watch their seabird virtuosity, which of course to them was just another sunset fishing session. Wondrous. <3
This is a rich and wonderful topic. It reminded me of a phrase I noted years ago about being an "apprentice to mystery." I also thought of Susan's post "Seven ways to find awe, every single day" from last October. For me, seeking moments of awe, as well as staying open to it, allows experiences of the numinous to occur more often.
what an incredible phrase!!
I love that... "an apprentice to mystery". Thank you!
Thank you for sharing.
I had to look up the meaning of numinous and I found it to be interesting, although I don't consider myself religious I do consider myself spiritual and so I took from the definition that perspective.
And with that perspective I thought about the things in my life that have moved my spirit or spoken to my spirit and in turn became my real therapy. What I find fascinating, for myself only, is that those things were rooted in nature and the nature of being. Being in awe of the majestic mountains. Feeling my heart fill with joy at the sound of a babies laughter. Nothing material or even news worthy just plain and simple and alive and awe inspiring.
I feel very blessed to live in a world where I can still find a spark of numinous in every day life. And I make a choice each and every day to be in awe of the world I get to be a part of.
Ah, numinous! Sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Nothing but water, sky and our sailboat. Predawn sitting alone in the cockpit as the sun rises on one horizon and the moon sets on the opposite horizon.
In your latest installation, you talked about purpose, and the numinous is as good a purpose as they come.
Dear Susan and Friends,
Another good one. 😊
I’ve long loved Uncle Carl. I worked with a Jungian analyst for some time, and Jung’s giant Red Book lives on our coffee table. Every so often—usually when I’m aching for reassurance—I open it at random and land on a line that feels like it was written just for me and just for that moment.
Still, something about this quote on the "approach to the numinous" being the “real therapy” feels unsettling. It feels like it’s missing a crucial nuance.
While I do agree that to fully show up for the loss-laced, impermanent human experience—is nearly impossible without being tethered to something vast and eternal. Numinous. Something that invites us to live our way into a story larger than ourselves. Something that makes the “full catastrophe” of being human not just bearable, but luminous with awe.
And yet—without tending to our neuroses, without building the scaffolding of a sturdy ego and grounded identity—the numinous can become dangerous. A “non-rational, non-sensory state that pulls us outside the self” may look like transcendence, but it can just as easily be dissociation. And dissociation, left untended, can not only “not release us from the curse of pathology,” it can tip into psychosis.
It doesn’t take much. Sufficient lack of sleep can produce this state in anyone. (I’ve been there, don’t recommend it).
That’s why I imagine Jung—and the Kabbalists—warned against diving too deep into mysticism before midlife. There’s wisdom in waiting until the ego is formed enough to withstand the dissolving.
Thank you, Susan, as always, for pulling me out of my day and into reflection. I treasure the chance to engage with you—and with this thoughtful community—in ways that keep drawing me toward deeper clarity on the questions that matter most to me.
With love,
Julia
Such fascinating reflections, Julia, thank you. (And I think all the time about this warning not to dive in too early in life- a warning which frustrated me when I was in my 20s.)
Me too Julia & Susan, I dove too deep, had to come up for air :)