While Freud interpreted oceanic feelings as regressive, Jung’s analytical psychology provides a more integrative perspective. Although Jung did not explicitly use the term “oceanic feeling,” his accounts of mystical experiences, encounters with the Self, and ego dissolution during the process of individuation resonate strongly with Rolland’s description. For Jung (1969), such states emerge when the ego engages with the deeper layers of the collective unconscious, often triggered by symbolic or numinous material. He viewed the numinosum a concept adopted from Otto’s (1923) notion of the mysterium tremendum et fascinans as central to understanding spiritual experience: an encounter marked by awe, transcendence, dread, and fascination. Far from being pathological, these moments signal the psyche’s attempt to achieve wholeness, bridging the ego and the archetypal matrix of the unconscious. In contrast to Freud, oceanic states thus become markers of transformation rather than regression—essential components of the individuation process and of personal development (Jung, 1969).

Expanding beyond classical psychoanalytic interpretations, Anton Ehrenzweig—an Austrian-born art theorist and psychoanalyst—offered a compelling view of oceanic feelings as central to the creative process. In The Hidden Order of Art, Ehrenzweig (1967) argued that artistic insight often arises through a temporary collapse of structured, linear thought. This disintegration, far from pathological, allows for a more fluid and undifferentiated mode of perception, in which the unconscious mind can reorganize fragmented impressions into meaningful wholes. He associated this state with the oceanic feeling—a moment of perceptual and psychic boundlessness, in which ego boundaries dissolve to reveal a deeper psychic order. For Ehrenzweig, such moments are not regressive but generative, enabling access to layers of meaning inaccessible to rational cognition (Saarinen, 2014). This interpretation opens a broader view of the oceanic feeling as a liminal state—one that may give rise to both intense creativity in line with profound disintegration.

The artistic lives of figures like Louis Wain, Vincent van Gogh, and Antonin Artaud illustrate this tension. Wain’s progressively abstract cat portraits, with their swirling patterns and collapsing form, suggest a loss of structured reality—a perceptual fusion evocative of psychotic fragmentation and oceanic immersion (Robins, 1992). Vincent van Gogh, in works such as The Starry Night, channeled intense sensory and emotional energy into visionary landscapes that hover between ecstatic transcendence and psychic instability (Blumer, 2002). Antonin Artaud, through his theatrical and literary explorations, described states of cosmic absorption that closely resemble oceanic experiences—though often accompanied by terror, dread, and disintegration (Artaud, 1995). These cases highlight the precarious and paradoxical nature of oceanic states: not merely mystical or redemptive, but psychologically charged experiences situated at the unstable boundary between visionary insight and psychic collapse (Fink et al., 2014).

Existentialist thinkers have long grappled with the nature of consciousness and the self, providing a powerful framework for interpreting oceanic states. Sartre (1956) famously argued that the self is not a static entity but a project—an ongoing act of self-transcendence. For Sartre, to exist is to commit oneself in a continual movement toward the future, in the shadow of freedom and responsibility. The experience of ego dissolution, then, could be seen not as a loss of identity, but as a confrontation with the nothingness that grounds consciousness itself. Martin Heidegger’s existential ontology deepens this perspective.

In Being and Time, Heidegger (1962) presents Dasein—the human being—as fundamentally being-toward-death, situated in a world of meanings, always already embedded in Being. Moments of boundary dissolution, as found in oceanic states, may act as existential ruptures -interruptions of everyday existence—that allow for authentic disclosure of Being. Rather than escapism, these experiences might constitute radical awakenings to the groundlessness and mystery of existence itself. Merleau-Ponty (2002), finally, reframed the self not as a disembodied ego, but as an embodied subject embedded in the world. His notion of pre-reflective consciousness suggests that the self is not originally isolated from the world but co-emerges with it in perception. Oceanic feelings, especially those induced through meditative or psychedelic practice, might reflect a return to this original unity—a loosening of dualistic boundaries that reveals a more primordial, embodied mode of being. Together, existentialist perspectives invite a reconsideration of oceanic states not as aberrations, but as meaningful experiences that reveal the dynamic and constructed nature of the self (see also Barrett, 1958 for an enhanced introduction).

While existential and phenomenological thinkers in the West—such as Heidegger, Sartre, and Merleau-Ponty emphasized the fluid, embodied, or projective nature of the self, similar insights have long existed in non-Western traditions. Buddhist philosophy, in particular, posits that the self is not a stable entity but a transient construct—an idea central to the doctrine of anattā (non-self). Contemporary philosophers like Metzinger (2003) have explicitly acknowledged this lineage, arguing that the notion of the self as a model or process rather than a substance has roots in Buddhist contemplative frameworks.

Recent advances in cognitive neuroscience have revitalized interest in altered states of consciousness, particularly those involving ego dissolution, self-transcendence, and mystical unity. Neuroimaging studies of meditation, psychedelic experiences, and flow states have identified recurring patterns of brain activity that correlate with the phenomenology of oceanic feelings (Brewer et al., 2011; Carhart-Harris et al., 2014). The default mode network (DMN) is a large-scale brain network primarily composed of the dorsal medial prefrontal cortex, posterior cingulate cortex, precuneus, and angular gyrus. Central among recent findings is the DMN’s role in self-referential processing, autobiographical memory, and mind-wandering, highlighting its involvement in internally directed cognitive functions (Raichle et al., 2001). Under the influence of substances like psilocybin, lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and N, N-dimethyltryptamine (DMT), activity in the DMN becomes significantly reduced or decoupled, corresponding to subjective reports of ego dissolution, boundary loss, and feelings of unity with the cosmos (Carhart-Harris et al., 2013, 2014), a finding supported by numerous neuroimaging studies (Lebedev et al., 2015; Nour and Carhart-Harris, 2017; Palhano-Fontes et al., 2015; Pasquini et al., 2020; Tagliazucchi et al., 2016). To explain these results, Carhart-Harris and Friston proposed the REBUS model (Relaxed Beliefs Under Psychedelics), suggesting that psychedelics work by flattening hierarchical priors in the brain’s predictive coding system. This temporary breakdown of top-down constraints permits a state of heightened neural entropy and cognitive flexibility—conditions under which previously suppressed emotional or cognitive content may surface and be restructured (Carhart-Harris and Friston, 2019; see also Albert and Back, 2025). Building on this, the Altered Beliefs Under Psychedelics (ALBUS) model suggests that psychedelics can lead to both belief relaxation and reinforcement, depending on factors such as dosage, set and setting, and their modulation of 5-HT2A receptor signaling (Safron et al., 2025). While the ALBUS model offers one promising framework, other explanatory approaches highlight the conceptual diversity in current psychedelic science—such as Gallimore’s (2015) integrated information theory, or the view proposed by James et al. (2022), who question whether psychedelic (oceanic) experiences are the result of altered information processing in the brain or of reduced filtering mechanisms that temporarily reveal a fundamental conscious reality normally obscured by everyday neurophysiological constraints. These neuroscientific frameworks are complemented by psychometric models that seek to quantify altered states of consciousness. One of the most widely used is the Altered States of Consciousness Rating Scale (ASC; Studerus et al., 2010), which includes “Oceanic Boundlessness” as a core dimension. This factor captures feelings of unity, dissolution of ego boundaries, blissful states, and altered perception of time and space—phenomena that align closely with both mystical experiences and the subjective effects of psychedelics. The ASC framework also includes opposing dimensions, such as Anxious Ego Dissolution, helping differentiate between positive and destabilizing forms of ego-loss.

Furthermore, research from affective neuroscience, particularly the work of Jaak Panksepp, supports the idea that oceanic feelings engage primal emotional circuits in the subcortical brain (Alcaro et al., 2017; Hiebler-Ragger et al., 2018). Panksepp’s seven primary emotional systems—SEEKING, CARE, PLAY, LUST, FEAR, RAGE, and SADNESS—represent evolutionarily conserved affective networks that underlie mammalian emotional life (Panksepp, 2004). While oceanic feelings are often linked with spirituality, they need not be religious; they also appear in creative insight, aesthetic absorption, or non-theistic awe (Yaden et al., 2017). Recent findings suggest that such experiences may be accompanied by aesthetic chills, which reliably co-occur with feelings of self-transcendence and unity (Christov-Moore et al., 2024). These states do not map neatly onto any single emotional system but may arise from the integration or modulation of circuits like SEEKING and CARE during altered states of consciousness (see, e.g., Solms, 2021 for an in-depth discussion). The affective core of the self, as theorized by Alcaro et al. (2017) (see also Figure 1), provides a neuro-archetypal foundation for such experiences, rooted in deep midline structures such as the periaqueductal gray (PAG)—a region associated with emotional regulation, spiritual feelings, and existential awareness (Ferguson et al., 2022). Importantly, oceanic feelings have been discussed separately from Panksepp’s discrete primary emotions, as they may reflect broader existential affective tones rather than specific motivational systems (Saarinen, 2014). These distinctions have informed the development of psychometric tools like the OCEANic Scale, which captures individual tendencies toward both the blissful and terrifying aspects of ego-dissolution (Schmautz et al., 2024; Straßnig et al., 2025). The emerging consensus in neuroscience is that oceanic experiences are not inherently pathological, but instead reflect a dynamic reconfiguration of self-processing—which can be therapeutic, destabilizing, or both, depending on context, integration, and meaning-making (Letheby and Gerrans, 2017).

Located in the midbrain, the periaqueductal gray (PAG) has traditionally been studied in the context of pain modulation, autonomic control, and survival responses (see also Figure 1 for further illustration). However, recent findings have implicated the PAG in a much broader array of functions, including emotional regulation, attachment, and spiritual or mystical experiences (Ferguson et al., 2022; Linnman et al., 2012; Unterrainer, 2025a). In particular, lesion network mapping studies have identified the PAG as a central node in the neural circuit of spirituality, correlating with traits such as awe, ego-dissolution, and altered self-awareness. These are precisely the affective and perceptual dimensions associated with oceanic states of consciousness. The PAG’s involvement in both threat defense and care-related affect suggests that it operates at a basic, embodied level of experience—where boundaries between self and world, safety and surrender, can be radically reorganized. This is especially salient in mystical or psychedelic states, where feelings of unity, timelessness, and transcendence may coexist with dread, ego death, or annihilation. From this perspective, the oceanic feeling may not emerge from purely cortical or abstract cognitive processes, but from a subcortical, somatic re-tuning of affective processing—rooted in evolutionarily ancient neural regions like the PAG (see Alcaro et al., 2017). Furthermore, in oceanic states, the DMN may loosen its regulatory grip, allowing subcortical affective signals from the PAG to rise into awareness. This bottom-up/top-down interplay may underlie the unique blend of visceral intensity and ego transcendence that characterizes mystical or creative states of consciousness (Carhart-Harris et al., 2014).

This insight carries significant implications for creativity and the psychotic spectrum, long understood to exist in a delicate tension (Claridge, 1997; Unterrainer and Lewis, 2014). The same threshold affective shifts that open access to transpersonal or archetypal experience may also render the ego vulnerable to disintegration. The periaqueductal gray (PAG), by mediating the basic feeling-tone of being alive—through fear, care, awe, or surrender—may play a key role in facilitating this affective threshold crossing (Panksepp, 2004). Indeed, as seen in artists like Vincent van Gogh, Louis Wain, and Antonin Artaud, the collapse of structured perception into swirling, symbolic, or ecstatic forms often mirrors descriptions of both mystical union and psychotic fragmentation (Laing, 1967). These cases exemplify what Koestler (1964) termed the “act of creation” as a “bisociation”—a clash between habit and insight. In this model, oceanic states may represent moments of neural and psychic instability where new configurations of meaning can emerge, but only at the risk of losing contact with consensus reality. Thus, the PAG may be understood as a neurobiological pivot between embodiment and transcendence, between the affective core self (Panksepp, 2004) and the symbolic re-imaginings of self found in art, mysticism, and madness. It offers a potential somatic foundation for what Ehrenzweig saw as the integration of unconscious form, and for what Jung described as the numinous eruption of the Self.

This fluidity has both clinical and creative applications. Psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, meditation, and transpersonal approaches increasingly use oceanic states to break rigid cognitive patterns, process trauma, and restore a sense of connectedness (Ko et al., 2022; Roseman et al., 2018). These interventions mirror psychodynamic insights: unconscious material must surface to be integrated. The OCEANic Scale developed by our group (Schmautz et al., 2024) reflects this duality, capturing both the bliss and terror of ego-transcendence. While mystical unity and psychotic fragmentation may appear phenomenologically similar, they are existentially distinct. However, these states also carry risks. For every instance of healing, there are reports of derealization, spiritual crisis, or psychotic collapse (Grof and Grof, 1989). The PAG—central to survival circuits and affective tone—may act as a neurobiological gatekeeper between psychic coherence and chaos (Damasio and Carvalho, 2013).