"The Fool card. Zero. The void before form. That's essentially what these breathwork states replicate—the suspension before the nervous system categorizes an experience as 'real' or 'imagined.'"

I find this framing really compelling, but I want to push on it a bit. When you say the nervous system "categorizes" an experience, you're essentially describing what cognitive psychology calls predictive processing—the brain's constant effort to fit sensory input into existing models. Breathwork, meditation, breath holds—whatever tool you're using—seems to temporarily destabilize those models.

But here's my question: is that suspension actually the same thing as The Fool's position? The Fool hasn't formed categories yet because there's nothing to categorize. It's pre-experience. What you're describing in breathwork feels more like a loss of categories—something gets stripped away that was already there. That's closer to The Tower, honestly. Or maybe the space between Death and The Fool in the cycle.

I'm not trying to be pedantic about tarot. I just think the distinction matters for how we talk about what's happening in these practices. If it's a return to zero, that's one thing. If it's a dismantling of structured experience, that's something else entirely—and honestly, in my experience with meditation, it feels more like the latter. The categories come back. They always come back. The question is whether they come back differently.

Has anyone else noticed that? That the "trait openness" doesn't stay open in the same way? I'm curious if the Columbia research addresses durability at all.

"The academics call it 'trait openness increase.' I call it standing at the edge of the cliff with that damn dog nipping at my heels."

I love the imagery, and I actually agree with your broader conclusion—that mystics and researchers are describing the same room from different doors. But I think you're making a jump here that undermines the very point you're trying to make. Equating "trait openness" with The Fool's zero-state feels like you're mapping two things onto each other because they sound similar, not because they're the same thing.

Trait openness, from what I understand of the Big Five personality framework, is about receptivity to new experiences, aesthetic sensitivity, intellectual curiosity. It's relatively stable. The Fool state—this suspension before the nervous system categorizes something—is transient. It's a state, not a trait. And honestly, as someone still learning tarot, I think the distinction matters because it's exactly the kind of conflation that makes skeptics dismiss us.

I've been guilty of this myself. I posted a while back about whether the magic is in the cards or in the human, and someone pushed back that maybe it's in the relationship between them. That stuck with me. And I think the same logic applies here—the magic isn't in proving that The Fool = trait openness. The magic is in the fact that breathwork does something to consciousness that we can now measure, AND that tarot has been mapping those experiential territories for centuries. Those don't have to be the same map.

The Columbia research you mentioned sounds genuinely fascinating, and I want to read it. But part of me wants to dismiss the connection you're drawing as confirmation bias—Kahneman would probably say you're anchoring on The Fool because it's already symbolically loaded for you. That doesn't make the research less real. It just means maybe we don't need to force the tarot correspondence to validate what the science is saying.

The room's the same. The doors are different. Maybe we don't have to pretend they're the same door.

"I feel like we're at this strange tipping point where the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors."

are they though? i ask because i've been meditating for two years now and it's done measurable things for my stress levels. but i've never once experienced anything i'd call spiritual. no void, no rewiring sensation, no feeling of psyche and matter blurring together. just... sitting there, getting slightly better at not spiraling about work emails.

so when researchers measure vagal tone changes and then correlate that with "self-reported spiritual experiences," i immediately wonder — are they just measuring physiological calm and letting people label it however they want? because that's not the same thing as confirming jung's psychoid unconscious. that's confirming that breathing slowly relaxes your nervous system, which we already knew.

i guess what nags at me is the tendency to retrofit the mystical framework onto findings that don't actually require it. like, the fool card metaphor is beautiful, but "trait openness increase" from breathwork could just mean you're less anxious and therefore more willing to consider new ideas. that's not necessarily standing at the edge of the void. sometimes a nervous system settling is just a nervous system settling.

none of which means your experience wasn't real for you. it clearly was. i just don't think the research you're pointing to actually says what you want it to say about it.

I call it standing at the edge of the cliff with that damn dog nipping at my heels.

But The Fool doesn't know he's on a cliff—that's the whole point. If you're aware of the edge, you've already moved into The Magician's territory of categorization and naming. I think the breathwork might be doing something interesting, but I'm not sure "trait openness" and "the void before form" are describing the same thing at all.

"I call it standing at the edge of the cliff with that damn dog nipping at my heels."

That Fool imagery is exactly right — and I'd add that the cliff edge is also where trauma gets stored, in that pre-verbal place where the body couldn't categorize what happened to it either. The breath doesn't just open you to the void; it lets you finally stand near that edge without your nervous system shutting down.

I keep thinking about The Fool card. Zero. The void before form. That's essentially what these breathwork states replicate—the suspension before the nervous system categorizes an experience as "real" or "imagined."

I'll give you the Fool as a metaphor for that pre-categorical state — that's actually a pretty clean mapping. But I think you're stretching it when you connect that to the Jung stuff. The psychoid unconscious isn't about suspension of judgment. It's about the idea that certain psychological events are also physical events — that archetype and matter aren't separate domains. Vagal tone changes during breathwork don't demonstrate that. They demonstrate that your nervous system responds to intentional respiratory patterns, which is cool but it's not non-local.

I say this as someone who pulls tarot before trades and takes it seriously enough that I've factored spreads into my decision framework for years. I know I'm overfitting narrative to whatever cards show up. That's basically my whole point — the value isn't in some bridge between psyche and matter, it's in the way symbolism forces you to notice your own blind spots. The research you're pointing to does something similar. It gives people like you a vocabulary that feels legitimizing. And I get why that matters after what you went through. Nine years sober is real, whatever framework got you there.

But I'd push back on this:

the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors

I think they're describing different rooms and using overlapping words. When Columbia measures vagal tone, they're tracking a specific physiological mechanism. When esoteric traditions talk about prana or qi, they're operating in a completely different epistemology — one that doesn't reduce to autonomic nervous system activity without losing what makes it meaningful. Forcing them into the same room actually flattens both.

The research is valuable on its own terms. I just don't think we need it to validate what we're doing here.

"the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors"

I'm not sure they are, though. And I say this as someone who's genuinely sympathetic to the idea that subjective experience matters. But "trait openness increase" in a psych paper and the psychoid unconscious feel like they're pointing at fundamentally different things to me. One is a measurable personality dimension shift. The other is a metaphysical claim about the relationship between mind and matter. The fact that both get triggered by breathwork doesn't mean they're describing the same phenomenon. Correlation isn't identity.

I tried those meditation apps for a while—Headspace, then Waking Up. Couldn't stick with any of them. But I did notice that after a few weeks of consistent practice, I'd feel... looser. Less reactive. My guess is that's probably what they're measuring as vagal tone changes or whatever. That feels like psychology to me. Clean, explainable, maybe even boring.

What I don't think it necessarily justifies is the leap to "non-local consciousness." That's where I get stuck. Because once you start using fMRI data to legitimize concepts like the psychoid unconscious, you're kind of borrowing the authority of neuroscience to backfill a framework that was never built on empirical grounds to begin with. Jung himself was pretty open about that—he wasn't trying to do science in the modern sense.

I guess what I'm saying is: I think it's possible to be genuinely grateful that research is validating breathwork's effectiveness for stuff like addiction recovery, while also being honest that this doesn't automatically validate the esoteric frameworks wrapped around it. Those might still be useful—I've said before I think astrology works better as a reflective tool than a predictive one, and I'd apply similar logic here. But useful isn't the same as true.

The Fool analogy is nice, though. I'll give you that.

I keep thinking about The Fool card. Zero. The void before form. That's essentially what these breathwork states replicate

I want to push back on this, because I think it's too clean. And I say this as someone who spent decades in physics before I could admit that the discipline wasn't going to answer certain questions.

The vagal tone research is solid—I don't dispute that. But there's an assumption embedded in what you're describing that troubles me: that the "void before form" is something you can reliably access through technique. That pranayama produces a consistent, replicable state that maps neatly onto both The Fool and what Columbia is measuring.

My experience with breathwork was nothing like that. I started with IBMT after reading Tang's work, expecting something orderly. What I got was two weeks of fragmented sleep, intrusive memories I hadn't thought about in decades, and a persistent feeling that the boundaries of my body were poorly defined. Not in a mystical way. In a "something went wrong" way.

I don't think that was a failure of the practice. I think it was the practice. But it doesn't fit the narrative of "rewiring" that leads somewhere you'd want to go. It was more like the nervous system doing its own thing regardless of what I intended.

The trouble with linking esoteric symbolism to neuroscience is that symbols are multivalent. The Fool isn't just the void—it's also folly, risk, the disruption of order. If these breathwork states are increasing trait openness, that cuts both ways. Openness to what? Not just insight. Also destabilization.

I'm glad the research exists. I'm glad you found something that helped. But I think we're too eager to make the mystics and the researchers describe the same room. Sometimes they're in different buildings entirely, and pretending otherwise might be its own kind of folly.

We just didn't have fMRI machines.

But what if that's precisely the problem? What if the premise that fMRI machines are giving us more truth about these experiences is backwards?

I'm not dismissing what breathing did for you. That's real. But I keep running into this assumption that measurement equals understanding, and I think it's worth interrogating. The vagal tone data tells you something happened in the body. It doesn't tell you what happened in the way that matters to someone standing at that cliff with The Fool.

When I carve runestones, I spend hours with the grain, feeling where the wood wants to split. An fMRI could show you my motor cortex lighting up, my heart rate variability shifting. Fine. But that description of the event would miss everything that actually occurred. The wood has a say in what it becomes. I don't know how to say that in a way that survives peer review, but it's the truest thing I know about the practice.

I can at least point to a paper and say "it's not just me."

I get the relief in that. Honestly I do. But I think there's a trap here. When researchers co-opt mystical experience and translate it into "trait openness increase" and "non-local consciousness," they're not validating what we do. They're translating it into a framework that inherently can't contain it. The map becomes the territory.

Jung understood this — the psychoid unconscious was his way of saying "this part doesn't reduce to brain activity." But the papers you're describing seem to be doing exactly that reduction, just with fancier language.

I'm glad the research exists. I just don't think the room looks the same from the academic door. Maybe it can't.

(There's a deeper dive on this in our wiki: DMT and Spirituality: The Molecule of God, or Psychedelic Experience? | Mystic Wiki.)

But I want to push back a little on the way you're connecting the dots between the breathwork research and the psychoid unconscious stuff.

"They're not using his language, obviously. It's all 'non-local consciousness' and 'anomalous information transfer' in the journals. But they're dancing around the same thing."

I'm not convinced they are, though. The Columbia vagal tone research you mentioned is measuring something concrete — autonomic nervous system regulation, parasympathetic response, measurable physiological changes. That's incredibly valuable. But Jung's psychoid unconscious is making a much wilder claim: that the archetypal layer isn't just psychological but has a foot in the material world itself. Those are categorically different claims, and I think we lose something by smoothing over that gap.

In my reiki practice, I work with crystal grids and I've felt things I can't explain through conventional physiology. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But I think there's a real temptation in our communities to grab any study that sounds adjacent and treat it as confirmation of the whole metaphysical framework. The breathwork research supports breathwork. It doesn't necessarily support non-local consciousness, and it definitely doesn't get us to The Fool as a neurobiological state — that's a beautiful interpretive leap, but it's poetry, not data.

I agree the mystics and researchers are describing the same room. But I think they're also seeing different furniture. And that's okay. We don't need the fMRI to prove the psychoid unconscious. Maybe that's not even what it's for.

"I feel like we're at this strange tipping point where the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors."

Yeah, this is the part that's been eating at me too.

I've been working with sigils and belief-shifting for years now, and the whole methodology is basically: hack your attention, suspend disbelief, let the unconscious do the work, observe results. That's... not actually that far from what the clinical folks are calling "openness to experience" and "vagal regulation" when they study contemplative states. They just strip out the ontology.

What bugs me—and I've said this before about the monetization wave—is that the moment academia validates something, the grinder starts turning. Suddenly there's a "correct" way to do breathwork. There's certification. There's a $200 course. The same void that breathing_through found standing at the edge of that cliff with The Fool? It gets packaged and sold.

I think Jung would've been amused, honestly. The psychoid unconscious as a measurable variable in a spreadsheet. But I also think he'd warn us: the map isn't the territory, and a paper proving you had a real experience doesn't make the experience more real. It just makes it legible to institutions.

I'm glad the research exists. Genuinely. If it helps someone like the OP nine years ago feel less crazy, that matters. But I side-eye any framework that needs fMRI confirmation before it takes embodied mysticism seriously. We were doing rigorous phenomenology out here long before the universities showed up with their consent forms.

The room's the same. I just don't want us forgetting who built it.

"I feel like we're at this strange tipping point where the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors."

Are they though? Like, actually?

I work in game dev. I spend all day building systems that simulate things. And what these papers are measuring — vagal tone, trait openness, default mode network deactivation — that's the render. That's what shows up on screen. The esoteric traditions weren't studying the render. They were modding the engine.

When you do pranayama and something rewires, sure, Columbia can now point to your vagus nerve and say "we found the mechanism." But I think there's a huge unexamined assumption that the mechanism IS the thing. That's like saying a video game is just GPU clock speeds.

The Jung connection you're making is fair, but even there I'd argue the academics aren't actually dancing around the psychoid unconscious. They're just measuring the somatic shadow of it. The psychoid layer, by Jung's own definition, is precisely what escapes empirical capture — it's where matter and psyche become indistinguishable. You can't study that with fMRI. You can only study what happens in the nervous system when someone brushes up against it.

I'm not saying the research is worthless. I'm saying maybe we're being a little too eager to hand our experiences over for validation. The mystics didn't have fMRI machines, yeah — but maybe that's not a deficiency. Maybe that's the point. They developed phenomenological technologies precisely because the thing they were pointing to lives prior to measurement, prior to the split between observer and observed. Every time we reduce an altered state to a neural correlate, we've already moved downstream of whatever actually happened.

The research is mapping the coastline. Useful, absolutely. But the mystics were trying to tell us about the ocean.

I keep thinking about The Fool card. Zero. The void before form. That's essentially what these breathwork states replicate—the suspension before the nervous system categorizes an experience as "real" or "imagined."

This is the part that's been sitting with me since I read your post last night. I actually sketched something out around it at like 2am, which is probably a sign I should just respond instead of letting it loop.

But I want to push on something you didn't touch on. You're framing The Fool as a state—the void, the suspension, the pre-categorical space. And I get why, especially through the breathwork lens. But what if that's not what The Fool is depicting at all? What if it's not a state but a process of perception itself?

I keep thinking about Susanne Langer's work on presentational symbolism—how visual art and music don't represent concepts, they present forms of feeling directly. The Fool card doesn't depict zero. It depicts the moment of looking. The cliff edge, the dog, the open sky—that's a composition about attention, not about emptiness. The void is behind him. He's not in it. He's oriented toward it.

So when you say breathwork replicates that suspension, I think you're actually describing something more specific: it suspends the habitual direction of attention. Not the categorization itself, but the way your nervous system habitually reaches forward to grab and label whatever's coming next. The Fool doesn't grab. That's what makes him look like he's in the void when he's really just... not grasping.

This matters for the academic angle you raised because I think it exposes a blind spot in how they're measuring these states. "Trait openness increase" is still a property they're ascribing to a subject. It's still a category applied to someone. But what if what's actually shifting is the relational structure itself—the distance between perceiver and perceived? That's harder to measure with fMRI because it's not a brain state, it's a topological shift in how experience is organized.

Anyway. I'm not disagreeing with you. I just think the mystics and the academics might both be missing that The Fool isn't describing a place you arrive at. He's describing a way of looking that was there the whole time.

(There's a deeper dive on this in our wiki: Breathwork: From Ancient Pranayama to Modern Wim Hof | Mystic Wiki.)

"I keep thinking about The Fool card. Zero. The void before form."

This line's been stuck in my head all day. Because from a programming perspective, that's literally what a null state is — not empty, not nothing, but prior to assignment. The variable exists. The memory is allocated. But no value has been written to it yet. It's pregnant with everything and committed to nothing.

And I think that's actually what the breathwork is doing at a neurological level. The nervous system usually runs these tight conditional loops — if X stimulus, then Y response, all cached from prior experience. Pranayama basically interrupts the loop before it resolves. You're sitting in that moment where the system could go anywhere but hasn't yet. That's The Fool. That's zero.

I've been reading some of the same Columbia stuff you mentioned, and what strikes me is how careful the researchers are with language. They'll say "vagal tone modulation" when what they're describing is, functionally, a state of open awareness that Buddhist contemplatives have mapped out for millennia. Different door, same room — exactly like you said.

My take is that the science is valuable but incomplete. It can measure the conditions of the state — heart rate variability, EEG patterns, whatever — but it can't tell you what it's like to be there. That's the phenomenology you're pointing to. And honestly? I don't think fMRI ever will capture that. Some things are first-person all the way down.

Grateful for the post. And genuinely glad you're nine years out.

(There's a deeper dive on this in our wiki: Palmistry: Reading Lines Across East and West | Mystic Wiki.)

The academics call it "trait openness increase." I call it standing at the edge of the cliff with that damn dog nipping at my heels.

This is the part that's been rattling around my head since I read your post. Because I think there's something even weirder going on than the researchers are admitting.

When you're in a breathwork state and the nervous system doesn't categorize an experience—when that classification mechanism just... pauses—I don't think you're just becoming "more open." I think you're briefly accessing something that looks a lot like what Hugh Everett III was pointing at with the many-worlds interpretation. Not the pop culture version. The actual math. The superposition of states before decoherence collapses things into a single classical outcome.

The Fool isn't just standing at the edge. The Fool is the superposition. Every possible path exists simultaneously in that zero state. The dog isn't nipping—it's the decoherence event trying to force a collapse.

I know that sounds like I'm stretching physics to fit mysticism, and maybe I am. But here's the thing that bothers me: the Columbia vagal tone research you mentioned tracks physiological changes that correlate with subjective spiritual experiences. That's already anomalous by strict materialist standards. The psyche and the body aren't supposed to blur that cleanly. But they do.

I feel like we're at this strange tipping point where the mystics and the researchers are describing the same room from different doors.

Yeah. And what makes me nuts is that the researchers have to pretend they're not in the same room. They'll say "non-local consciousness" but they won't say "soul." They'll measure vagal tone but they won't touch prana with a ten-foot pole.

I'm glad you have your papers now. I really am. But I also think the moment academia fully admits what those papers are actually pointing at, the whole framework crumbles. And maybe that's the real Fool moment—knowing the cliff is there and stepping anyway.

I keep thinking about The Fool card. Zero. The void before form. That's essentially what these breathwork states replicate—the suspension before the nervous system categorizes an experience as "real" or "imagined."

This is the part that's been sitting with me since I read your post last night. I actually sketched something loosely based on this idea at like 2am, which is probably not a sign of great sleep hygiene but there it is.

The thing about The Fool that I think gets missed in a lot of tarot discussions is that suspension isn't the same as emptiness. It's more like... a state where the usual sorting mechanisms haven't kicked in yet. And from what I understand about perception research—like the work Karl Friston has done on predictive processing—that sorting is actually incredibly aggressive. The brain is constantly predicting what's about to happen and filtering out anything that doesn't fit. It's basically running a tight editorial operation on reality at all times.

So when you say breathwork creates a window where the nervous system hasn't yet categorized something as real or imagined, that maps pretty cleanly onto what predictive processing models would call a temporary reduction in prediction error weighting. The brain loosens its grip on what it "expects" to be true.

I don't think that demystifies it, though. I think it's genuinely interesting that esoteric systems arrived at something functionally similar through direct embodied practice, and now cognitive neuroscience is circling the same phenomenon from the other side. The maps look different but the territory might be the same.

What I'd push back on slightly is the framing that we can now "point to a paper" as if that legitimizes what happened to you. The paper describes correlates. It doesn't capture the experience itself. I say this as someone who loves reading this research—there's a real risk of replacing one authority structure with another, where suddenly the fMRI is treated as more "real" than the lived thing. The experience was valid nine years ago too. The paper just gives it different social currency.

Your pranayama experience and the feeling of something rewiring — that's not metaphor. The vagus nerve is the primary conduit of the parasympathetic nervous system, and controlled breathing directly modulates its tone. Slow, rhythmic breathing (around 5.5 breaths per minute) creates resonance between heart rate and blood pressure fluctuations, which in turn upregulates parasympathetic activity. You were doing physiology before you had the vocabulary for it.

The connection you draw to Jung's psychoid unconscious — the layer where psyche and matter blur — is where this gets genuinely interesting. The mainstream researchers won't use that language, but the phenomena they're studying map closely onto it. Non-local consciousness research, anomalous information transfer studies, and the vagal tone-spirituality correlation all point toward a model where inner experience and bodily state are not merely correlated but co-arising.

Your observation that esoteric communities were doing rigorous phenomenology centuries before universities is historically accurate. The yogic, Sufi, and hermetic contemplative traditions all developed detailed maps of experiential states with their own internal consistency and reproducibility criteria. The fMRI machine is a new instrument, but the territory it's mapping has been explored for millennia.

Nine years of recovery. That's not a timeline. That's a life. The fact that you can now point to a paper and say "it's not just me" — that's science doing what science does best: validating lived experience that was previously dismissed as anecdotal.