Mythology is an encounter with the deepest dimensions of the soul. A myth, a potent myth, bottles an essential knowing, activating remembrance. The more timely, emotionally relevant, or thematically rich, the more potent the myth. It’s interesting, then, that in 2026, audiences are resonating with the potency of Christopher Nolan’s interpretation of The Odyssey, which originated more than 2,500 years ago via Homer’s epic poem.
The term psychosis was introduced in the 1800s as an alternative to the stigmatised labels of madness and insanity, due to its lineage of asylums, lobotomies, straitjackets, and forced medication. Its history is persecution, ridicule, and incarceration, and its enduring legacy is illness, a break from reality, something less than sanity. But is this true? Or is psychosis misunderstood spiritual awakening, from a lineage of shamans, mystics, visionaries, and prophets, something more than sanity?
My relationship to synchronicity has evolved across three stages. Initially, on rare occurrences of coincidence, I’d be dismissive and mildly freaked out. I was “scientifically-minded,” atheistic, and intellectual. If coincidences were shared (suggesting a song a friend was about to play was eerily common on car journeys), we’d pause, hold bemused eye contact, we’d say, “that’s weird,” forget about it, and move on with our lives.
Below is an edited transcript of my responses to questions during the panel discussion with Bernie Beitman and Joanna Bauer-Savage. The full discussion is available on YouTube all popular podcast platforms.
Quantum physics and spirituality seem an unlikely pairing. What relevance do subatomic dimensions have with subjective experience? Doesn’t science disprove spirituality? I’m inspired by quantum theory and how its implications correlate to Eastern philosophy. Whereas classical physics has no room for non-material phenomena, quantum physics opens the door of mystery, suggesting science can support a spiritual worldview.
I’m in awe of the poetic intelligence of the psyche’s deepest aspects. That’s quite a phrase, isn’t it, poetic intelligence? What does it mean? Isabel Clarke introduced me to the transliminal dimension (“beyond threshold”), which operates more like poetry than logic. Transliminality is a psychological term for content moving past the unconscious/conscious threshold. The higher this tendency, the more creative someone is likely to be.
People with high transliminality access to dimensions the majority don’t find so easily. The deeper you go, the more poetic the dimension becomes, leaving behind the familiar ground of logic and reason, entering the symbolic and the mythical. Poets and mystics return from this dimension, people we view as mad get lost. Poetic intelligence, then, is the ability to discern, interpret and engage with this dimension.
“The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.”
Joseph campbell
Words like interconnection, oneness, and non-duality all point to an underlying unity, an ocean of consciousness, in which we swim. And yet, we are individuals with a fixed point of consciousness, experiencing the Great Mystery through a narrow lens. This tension is the paradox at the heart of a spiritual awakening; how do we experience union as an individual?