Spiritual Awakening: What Informs the Soul’s Experience
Exploring the Role of Awareness, Surrender, and Purification
“Awakening is remembering what the soul already knows.” — Anonymous
By: Camy Gherghescu, NBC-HWC
Published by: Global Conscious Living℠ | December 1, 2024
Estimated Reading Time: 15 minutes
Awakening Beyond the Mind
For centuries, mystics and sages have reminded us that we are more than our thoughts, emotions, or bodies. Now, modern science is beginning to echo what ancient traditions have long understood: much of what we identify with—our preferences, personality traits, and inner chatter—is not the whole of who we are.
Neuroscience offers a window into this mystery through the study of the brain’s default mode network (DMN)—a system active during mind-wandering, self-referential thinking, and mental time travel. When overactive, this network contributes to rumination, anxiety, and the illusion of a fixed self. But during meditation, breathwork, prayer, or deep contemplative presence, the DMN quiets. We become less identified with our egoic narrative and more open to spacious awareness. In this stillness—beyond the noise of the mind—something profound is revealed. When we are no longer identified with thoughts, beliefs, conditions, or desires—what remains is what mystics call pure consciousness, a spacious presence that isn’t created by the mind but exists beyond it. Beyond all mental, physical, and material experience, there is God—pure, unchanging consciousness. Spirit is not the mind.
Spiritual Awakening:
What Informs the Soul’s Experience
Exploring the Role of Awareness, Surrender, and Purification
“Awakening is remembering what the soul already knows.” — Anonymous
By: Camy Gherghescu, NBC-HWC
Published by: Global Conscious Living℠ | December 1, 2024
Estimated Reading Time: 15 minutes
Awakening Beyond the Mind
For centuries, mystics and sages have reminded us that we are more than our thoughts, emotions, or bodies. Now, modern science is beginning to echo what ancient traditions have long understood: much of what we identify with—our preferences, personality traits, and inner chatter—is not the whole of who we are.
Neuroscience offers a window into this mystery through the study of the brain’s default mode network (DMN)—a system active during mind-wandering, self-referential thinking, and mental time travel. When overactive, this network contributes to rumination, anxiety, and the illusion of a fixed self. But during meditation, breathwork, prayer, or deep contemplative presence, the DMN quiets. We become less identified with our egoic narrative and more open to spacious awareness. In this stillness—beyond the noise of the mind—something profound is revealed. When we are no longer identified with thoughts, beliefs, conditions, or desires—what remains is what mystics call pure consciousness; a spacious presence that isn’t created by the mind but exists beyond it. Beyond all mental, physical, and material experience, there is God—pure, unchanging consciousness. Spirit is not the mind.
Mystics have long pointed to a presence beneath thought, a witnessing awareness that observes but is not entangled. Science may track the brain’s activity, but what remains when the brain’s activity quiets down? That silent awareness is the soul’s terrain—and the essence of consciousness.
“The mind is restless, turbulent, strong and unyielding… but it can be controlled by practice and detachment.”
— Bhagavad Gita 6:35
One groundbreaking study from Judson Brewer et al. (Yale University) showed that experienced meditators exhibited markedly decreased activity in the DMN, correlating with a diminished sense of self-focus and increased states of presence and peace.¹ In other words, when we quiet the story of who we think we are, something deeper can be felt. This is not about escaping the mind— but shifting our relationship with it. Instead of letting thoughts define us, we begin to observe them. Rather than clinging to identity, we soften into something more spacious—more true.
What remains when the mental noise fades? Who are we when the inner commentary goes silent—even for a moment? That’s where awakening begins. That’s where awakening begins. But to live from that awareness takes practice. Just as physical strength is built through repetition, spiritual clarity is cultivated through the rhythms we return to—prayer, meditation, breath, stillness, presence. These aren’t acts of performance; they’re acts of remembrance—like watering a seed you know is already there.
The Role of Sacred Practice
Awakening isn’t a one-time glimpse—it deepens through devoted practice. Just as physical strength is built through repetition, spiritual clarity is cultivated through the rhythms we return to— prayer, meditation, breathwork, stillness—and the practice of presence itself. These aren’t acts of performance; they’re acts of remembrance.
Consider the Desert Fathers and Mothers—early Christian mystics of the 3rd and 4th centuries who left behind society to live lives of radical simplicity, silence, and devotion in the deserts of Egypt and Syria. Their core spiritual aim was hesychia (pronounced heh-see-kee-uh)—a state of inner stillness, watchful awareness, and unceasing prayer. “Pray without ceasing.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:17
Their goal was not to “become holy,” but to but to become empty enough to let the Divine fill them. And though they are rarely mentioned today, they were quietly living out the deeper teachings of Jesus—not performing Christianity, but embodying Christ. They didn’t claim to be the Light—only made space for it to shine through.
These insights weren’t limited to one tradition. Across time and culture, awakened beings offered different paths toward the same truth: higher consciousness, union with Source, and freedom beyond the mind and body.
Global Wisdom on Awakening
These teachings come from vastly different times, places, and cultures—but they seem to point toward a shared truth.
- Jesus pointed inward, teaching that “the kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21)—a call to direct, inner union with the Divine.
- Islamic wisdom honors surrender to God’s will (“Inshallah”) not as passive, but as alignment with a loving Divine plan.
- The Buddha offered the Middle Way through the Noble Eightfold Path—a balanced life of ethical action, mindful awareness, and inner stillness.
- Krishna encouraged Arjuna to act without attachment to outcomes, aligning his duty with the Eternal Self.
- Lao Tzu revealed that spiritual depth arises from humility and flow, not force: “The Way is effortless for those who are not full of themselves.” He also taught, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” — Tao Te Ching, Ch. 44
- Rumi, drawing from Sufi mysticism, taught that divine longing is the soul’s compass: “What you seek is seeking you.”
- Ramana Maharshi and Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj described the true Self as pure awareness—beyond body, mind, and all passing form.
- Jewish mysticism (Kabbalah) invites devekut—cleaving to God—through contemplative prayer and mindful mitzvot (sacred actions).
- Indigenous traditions (e.g., Native American) honor the sacredness of nature, ancestral bonds, and a spirit-infused relationship with all life.
Taken together, these voices form a kind of chorus. What did all these paths hold in common? They led to higher states of consciousness—what mystics call God‑realization. Their purpose? Not to create a better life, but to awaken us to eternal life within the now.
And why does this matter? Because when we connect with that same field of awareness—even briefly—we touch something eternal. Something unshakable. The mystics didn’t awaken to escape this life. They awakened to know Life itself, unfiltered. And through that knowing, they lived with deeper compassion, clarity, and peace. Their path wasn’t just theirs—it was left open for us to walk too. It was a mirror. A map. Left open for us to walk, too.
Modern research supports what these wisdom traditions modeled. Studies show that long-term meditation increases gray matter density in brain regions tied to emotional regulation and self-awareness.² Breathwork and prayer help lower cortisol and shift us from stress-reactivity into receptivity.
In a culture driven by doing and endless getting, sacred practice offers something rare: the chance to stop, to open, and to give ourselves back to the Sacred. Not to earn awakening, but to remember the stillness it comes from.
The Invitation of Surrender
Of all the spiritual practices, surrender may be the most countercultural—and the least embraced. In a culture built on striving, independence, and control, surrender is often mistaken for weakness or passivity. But to the mystics, sages, and awakened teachers across time, surrender was not giving up—it was giving over. To surrender is to release the illusion that we are the sole architects of our lives. It’s to trust that there is wisdom greater than our will, and that peace arrives not by controlling the moment, but by cooperating with it.
In the 16th century, Teresa of Ávila, the Spanish mystic and Carmelite nun, wrote of the soul’s union with God as a journey of progressive surrender. Her metaphor of the “interior castle” revealed that each room closer to the Divine required more trust, more letting go of personal control. “Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you. All things are passing; God never changes,” she wrote, pointing to a peace that comes not from circumstances, but from release.
Centuries later, Ramana Maharshi, the Indian sage, said, “Surrender is giving up oneself to the original cause of one’s being. Do not delude yourself by imagining such source to be some God outside you. Your source is within you.” Surrender, for him, was not kneeling before a deity—but dissolving the false self that stood between us and the Real.
The way modern science supports what these teachers lived is subtle—but powerful. Research in psychology and neuroscience suggests that the act of letting go—of control, resistance, or tightly held goals—activates a state of increased parasympathetic tone, leading to reduced anxiety and greater emotional regulation.³ One study even found that those who practiced acceptance-based coping showed lower cortisol levels in stressful situations, compared to those trying to problem-solve their way out.⁴
These softening calms both the nervous system and the soul. It is the sacred pause that says: “I no longer need to force this. I trust the unfolding.” And in that softening, what is true often rises—unobstructed, clear, enough. In coaching, this moment of surrender often shows up as the shift from “How do I fix this?” to “What am I being asked to learn, to see, to release?” It’s not resignation—it’s revelation. Not giving up, but giving way to the deeper current beneath the surface.”
Inner Purification and the Dissolving of Ego Structures
Many seekers imagine awakening as a blissful endpoint—an effortless arrival into peace and clarity. But nearly every tradition reminds us: before the light pours in, something within must be cleared. Not punished. Not rejected. Simply no longer needed.
Spiritual purification isn’t about moral perfection. It’s about making space for truth. What we often call ‘ego death’ isn’t the destruction of the self—it’s the soft unraveling of roles, identities, fears, and illusions we mistook for the Self. St. John of the Cross called this the Dark Night of the Soul—a spiritual passage where God’s presence feels distant, and the soul feels stripped of certainty. Yet, as he wrote, “The soul that is attached to anything, however much good there may be in it, will not arrive at the liberty of divine union.” His point wasn’t that we must suffer—it’s that union requires emptying. The Buddha taught the same principle through the lens of attachment. Liberation didn’t come from gaining—it came from releasing: grasping less, identifying less, clinging less.
Purification isn’t punishment—it’s preparation. And while it may surface as disorientation, emotional upheaval, or ego resistance, these aren’t signs of failure. They’re signs of movement. Clearing. Rearranging. It’s a bit like unpacking an overstuffed suitcase. You may have carried those beliefs and identities for years, even decades. But at some point, to travel farther, you have to take things out. Examine them. Ask if they still serve your journey. “When all desires that dwell in the heart fall away, then the mortal becomes immortal and attains Brahman.” — Katha Upanishad 2.3.14
Research in transformational psychology now mirrors this journey. As people shift core beliefs or undergo identity-level change (such as after trauma, deep therapy, or spiritual practice), they often experience a temporary destabilization of self-concept.⁵ One study found that letting go of old self-identities—even voluntarily—activates brain regions tied to threat response.⁶ In other words, even positive change can feel threatening to the ego. That’s why purification must be met with compassion. These ego structures aren’t villains—they were built to protect us. But they can’t carry us where we’re going. In coaching, this shows up in the space between “I thought I knew who I was” and “I’m becoming someone I’ve never been.” Clients often feel stuck—not because they’re doing it wrong, but because they’re shedding layers that were never truly theirs.
Awakening isn’t about climbing higher—it’s about releasing what weighs us down. And purification is the process that loosens our grip on the false, so the Real can rise. “Indeed, the successful are those who purify themselves.” — Qur’an 87:14
What Informs the Soul’s Experience?
After walking through awareness, surrender, purification, and sacred practice, we begin to see what truly informs the soul’s experience:
- Consciousness — our timeless nature, beyond thought, body, and form
- Sacred Practice — the rhythms of stillness, devotion, and presence
- Letting Go — softening the ego and releasing what no longer serves
- Divine Alignment — surrendering to God’s will and inner guidance
- Awareness — both witness and quiet catalyst for transformation
This is the distilled essence of what the great spiritual paths—and now science—are all pointing toward: not the adding of more, but the unveiling of what’s already true.
Conclusion: Awakening as a Return, Not a Destination
Spiritual awakening is often misunderstood as a peak moment or final goal. But in truth, it’s a return. A return to presence. To awareness. To the part of us that has always been watching—always been still, always been home. The mystics and sages didn’t speak of awakening as something we must earn or attain, but as something we uncover. They knew: the soul doesn’t awaken by becoming more. It awakens by remembering what it already is—consciousness expressed through form.
Through sacred practice, prayer, surrender, and the gentle shedding of ego, we begin to experience a deeper dimension of Self—not just as personality, but as Presence. Not just as thought, but as witness. And not just as seeker, but as the space where all seeking dissolves.
This is the soul’s journey: to awaken not into answers, but into awareness itself. And as that awareness becomes our way of being, life no longer feels like something to master. It becomes something to meet—moment by moment—with reverence.
A Gentle Blessing for the Path
May you remember the light within you—and walk gently in its glow.
May the stillness within guide your becoming.
May you release what no longer serves and soften into what is true.
May your awareness steady your steps, and your breath return you to presence.
May peace meet you in the pause.
And may your journey—however winding—bring you home to yourself, again and again.
References
¹ Brewer, J. A., Worhunsky, P. D., Gray, J. R., Tang, Y.-Y., Weber, J., & Kober, H. (2011). Meditation experience is associated with increased cortical thickness and decreased activity in the default mode network. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 108(50), 20254–20259
² Holzel, B. K., et al. (2011). Mindfulness practice leads to increases in regional brain gray matter density. Psychiatry Research: Neuroimaging, 191(1), 36–43.³ Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, Self-Regulation.
⁴ Shallcross, A. J., et al. (2010). Let it be: Accepting negative emotional experiences predicts decreased negative affect and depressive symptoms. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 48(11), 921–929.
⁵ Mezirow, J. (2000). Learning as Transformation: Critical Perspectives on a Theory in Progress.
⁶ Bartz, J. A., et al. (2009). The effects of self-construal on neural responses to emotional stimuli. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, 21(10), 1997–2006.
Awakening is personal—but it doesn’t have to be solitary. If you’re on the path and ready to be met with presence, guidance, and compassion, you may want to explore The Spiritual Journey page and the coaching option for this service from my coaching packages here.