Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroscientist, a postdoctoral fellow at Harvard Medical School, and spokesperson for the Harvard Brain Bank, experienced a life-altering event in December 1996 when a sudden rupture in her left brain artery caused a massive stroke. Over the course of just four hours, she witnessed, with the keen observation of a neuroscientist, her brain gradually losing its ability to process certain information. By the end of this period, she had lost the capacity to walk, talk, read, write, and even recall her own life.

Despite the traumatic event, while her left brain was shutting down, Jill’s experience and internal reality started to shift. Her right-brain remained conscious through a remarkable inner journey. She felt more alive. 

“Life! I am life! I am a sea of water bound inside this membranous pouch. Here, in this form, I am a conscious mind and this body is the vehicle through which I am ALIVE!”

“Without the traditional sense of my physical boundaries, I felt that I was at one with the vastness of the universe.”

“In the absence of the normal functioning of my left orientation association area, my perception of my physical boundaries was no longer limited to where my skin met air. I felt like a genie liberated from its bottle. The energy of my spirit seemed to flow like a great whale gliding through a sea of silent euphoria.”

Normally, the result of the failure of any cognitive function is devastating. However, in Jill’s case, her brain failed in the “right” way, so she experienced phenomena that typically occur only in spiritual or mystical experiences. 

“I have come to understand how it is that we are capable of having a “mystical” or “metaphysical” experience-relative to our brain anatomy.”

Eight years later, after a long and challenging rehabilitation process, she made a miraculous full recovery. She chronicled her extraordinary journey in her book My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist's Personal Journey. 

“I felt as though I was suspended in a peculiar euphoric stupor, and I was strangely elated when I understood that this unexpected pilgrimage into the intricate functions of my brain actually had a physiological basis and explanation. I kept thinking, Wow, how many scientists have the opportunity to study their own brain function and mental deterioration from the inside out? My entire life had been dedicated to my own understanding of how the human brain creates our perception of reality. And now I was experiencing this most remarkable stroke of insight!”

A Brain is a Computer Runs with various Neural Programs

The brain functions much like a computer, running on a variety of neural programs that govern our thoughts, sensations, behaviors, and emotions. Each neural circuit is like a specialized program, working together to create our perception of reality. In Jill's case, a stroke severely affected her left hemisphere, flooding it with blood and essentially shutting it down. The left brain, responsible for logical thinking and analysis, is malfunctioning. As a result, she was left grappling with fragmented thoughts and scattered images, much like a major crash of the computer system, unable to process information coherently.

“As I looked at the top card, I realized that although I retained a clear image in my mind of what I was looking for, I could not discriminate any of the information on the card in front of me. My brain could no longer distinguish writing as writing, or symbols as symbols, or even background as background. Instead, the card looked like an abstract tapestry of pixels. The entire picture was a uniform blend of all its constituent pieces. The dots that formed the symbols of language blended in smoothly with the dots of the background. The distinctions of color and edge no longer registered to my brain.”

The damage to the left brain affected the language center, leaving her unable to understand or produce language.

“I could hear him speak, but my mind could not decipher his words. I thought, Oh my gosh, he sounds like a golden retriever! I realized that my left hemisphere was so garbled that I could no longer understand speech. Yet, I was so relieved to be connected to another human being that I blurted out, “This is Jill. I need help!” Well, at least that’s what I tried to say. What exactly came out of my mouth was more akin to grunts and groans…I was shocked, however, when I did realize that I could not speak intelligibly. Even though I could hear myself speak clearly within my mind, This is Jill, I need help!, the sounds coming out of my throat did not match the words in my brain.”

Since the left brain went down, it no longer suppresses the right brain. Other parts of the brain began to emerge. Programs that had been restrained were now free to run and no longer bound by former cognitive frameworks. The right brain stepped in with new perspectives. 

“Programs that had been inhibited were now free to run and I was no longer fettered to my previous interpretation of perception. With this shift away from my left hemisphere consciousness and the character I had been, my right hemisphere character emerged with new insight.”

The left and right hemispheres of the brain handle cognitive features slightly differently. For instance, the left hemisphere handles a great deal of linear thinking and logical reasoning, and the right hemisphere takes care of perceiving and feeling. 

From my experience, when meditating and working to release certain habitual thought patterns, I often feel expansion on the left side of my head, particularly around the area above the left ear, and sometimes in other areas. When I focus on letting go of specific emotions, I sometimes sense a swelling sensation on the right side of my brain, between the front and middle regions inside the head. I'm not entirely sure what causes these sensations of expansion—perhaps due to increased blood flow or the dilation of blood vessels.

Disintegration of the Sense of Self and Body Boundaries

On the morning of her stroke, Jill experienced a series of profound changes, starting with a sudden headache and gradually losing control over her physical and cognitive abilities. The stroke primarily impacted her left hemisphere, causing the left brain's capabilities to flicker in and out. One of the first things she noticed was the dissolution of the sense of bodily boundaries:

“I was aware that I could no longer clearly discern the physical boundaries of where I began and where I ended. I sensed the composition of my being as that of a fluid rather than that of a solid. I no longer perceived myself as a whole object separate from everything. Instead, I now blended in with the space and flow around me.” 

Each neural program is responsible for specific cognitive functions. If the brain region controlling spatial awareness shuts down, you lose the ability to perceive three-dimensional space, distinguish distances, and sense boundaries. As well as the concept of an identity. 

“My entire self-concept shifted as I no longer perceived myself as a single, a solid, an entity with boundaries that separated me from the entities around me. I understood that at the most elementary level, I am a fluid. Of course I am a fluid! Everything around us, about us, among us, within us, and between us is made up of atoms and molecules vibrating in space. Although the ego center of our language center prefers defining our self as individual and solid, most of us are aware that we are made up of trillions of cells, gallons of water, and ultimately everything about us exists in a constant and dynamic state of activity. My left hemisphere had been trained to perceive myself as a solid, separate from others. Now, released from that restrictive circuitry, my right hemisphere relished in its attachment to the eternal flow. I was no longer isolated and alone. My soul was as big as the universe and frolicked with glee in a boundless sea.

…My eyes could no longer perceive things as things that were separate from one another. Instead, the energy of everything blended together. My visual processing was no longer normal.”

Similarly, if programs that handle the concept “self” stop, the brain stops projecting the identity of “self.” As a result, the perceptions of the “self” that we know suddenly disintegrate and vanish. Realizing the “self” we once identified with was never real but merely a holographic creation of the brain. Realizing the actions, perceptions, personal history, and beliefs were merely fabrications of the brain.

“One of the jobs of our left hemisphere language centers is to define our self by saying “I am.” Through the use of brain chatter, your brain repeats over and over again the details of your life so you can remember them. It is the home of your ego center, which provides you with an internal awareness of what your name is, what your credentials are, and where you live.”

Gradually, her mind became quiet: 

“Those little voices, that brain chatter that customarily kept me abreast of myself in relation to the world outside of me, were delightfully silent. And in their absence, my memories of the past and my dreams of the future evaporated. I was alone. In the moment, I was alone with nothing but the rhythmic pulse of my beating heart.”

The “Self” is a Fictional Character

The cognitive functionalities on the left hemisphere went down, but the right hemisphere is still intact thus she is still conscious of what’s happening the entire time. 

“You may be wondering how it is that I still remember everything that happened. I remind you that although I was mentally disabled, I was not unconscious. Our consciousness is created by numerous programs that are running at the same time. Each program adds a new dimension to our ability to perceive things in the three-dimensional world. Although I had lost my left hemisphere consciousness containing my ego center and ability to see my self as a single and solid entity separate from you, I retained both the consciousness of my right mind and the consciousness of the cells making up my body. Although one set of programs was no longer functioning-the one that reminded me moment by moment of who I was and where I lived, etc., the other parts of me remained alert and continued processing instantaneous information. In the absence of my traditional left hemispheric domination over my right mind, other parts of my brain emerged.”

Our perceptions and relationships with the external world are all products of our neural circuits. In reality, “I” is just a fictional character made by our imagination. 

“And I must say, there was both freedom and challenge for me in recognizing that our perception of the external world, and our relationship to it, is a product of our neurological circuitry. For all those years of my life, I really had been a figment of my own imagination!”

Losing the interpretation of the left hemisphere, the understanding of “self” starts to shift. 

“A consciousness that was different from the one I had known before, however, because my left hemisphere had been packed with details about how to make sense of the external world. These details had been organized and ingrained as neuronal circuits in my brain. Here, in the absence of that circuitry, I felt inanimate and awkward. My consciousness had shifted. I was still in here I was still me, but without the richness of the emotional and cognitive connections my life had known. So, was I really still me? How could I still be Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, when I no longer shared her life experiences, thoughts, and emotional attachments?”

The “self” or Jill she had known died that morning, and she no longer felt bound by the old self’s decisions or self-imposed limitations.

I understood that that Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor died that morning, and yet, with that said, who was left? Or, with my left hemisphere destroyed, perhaps I should now say, who was right? 

Without a language center telling me: “I am Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor. I am a neuroanatomist. I live at this address and can be reached at this phone number,” I felt no obligation to being her anymore. It was truly a bizarre shift in perception, but without her emotional circuitry reminding me of her likes and dislikes, or her ego center reminding me about her patterns of critical judgment, I didn’t think like her anymore. From a practical perspective, considering the amount of biological damage, being her again wasn’t even an option! In my mind, in my new perspective, that Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor died that morning and no longer existed. Now that I didn’t know her life-her relationships, successes and mistakes, I was no longer bound to her decisions or self-induced limitations.

The brain houses our memories, thought frameworks, moral codes, experience, conditioning, and habitual patterns. However, in Jill’s case, after her stroke, her brain lost access to all that information. As a result, all her preconceived notions were wiped away. It was as if she were operating in a "clean slate" mode, free from the influences of prior experiences or knowledge. A good portion of her personality and personal identity simply disappeared.

Although I experienced enormous grief for the death of my left hemisphere consciousness-and the woman I had been, I concurrently felt tremendous relief. That Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor had grown up with lots of anger and a lifetime of emotional baggage that must have required a lot of energy to sustain. She was passionate about her work and her advocacy. She was intensely committed to living a dynamic life. But despite her likable and perhaps even admirable characteristics, in my present form I had not inherited her fundamental hostility. I had forgotten about my brother and his illness. I had forgotten about my parents and their divorce. I had forgotten about my job and all the things in my life that brought me stress-and with this obliteration of memories, I felt both relief and joy. I had spent a lifetime of 37 years being enthusiastically committed to “do-do-doing” lots of stuff at a very fast pace. On this special day, I learned the meaning of simply “being.”

The stroke profoundly reshaped Jill’s cognitive operations, stripping away her emotional baggage and granting her an unexpected sense of freedom. No longer anchored to her former self, she experienced a newfound joy in simply being present. This transformation offers a glimpse into how the brain constructs and frames our reality. It raises the question: Are our identities, perceptions, and beliefs truly our own, or just the neural patterns?

From a healing and awakening perspective, this is precisely the case. Rewiring the brain changes how it operates, leading to shifts in both perception and perspective. In fact, healing and awakening are not just cognitive transformations but also profound physiological changes. The brain's restructuring alters physical, emotional, and mental responses, fundamentally changing how one experiences and interacts with the world. 

Oneness with the Universe

This dissolution of physical and spatial boundaries led to a sense of oneness: a profound detachment from the world.

“I understood that my body was, by the magnificence of its biological design, a precious and fragile gift. It was clear to me that this body functioned like a portal through which the energy of who I am can be beamed into a three-dimensional external space."

“This amazing brain had been capable of integrating literally billions of trillions of bits of data, in every instant, to create for me a three-dimensional perception of this environment that actually appeared to be not only seamless and real, but also safe. Here in this delusion, I was mesmerized by the efficiency of this biological matrix as it created my form, and I was awed by the simplicity of its design.

I saw myself as a complex composite of dynamic systems, a collection of interlacing cells capable of integrating a medley of sensory modalities streaming in from the external world. And when the systems functioned properly, they naturally manifested a consciousness capable of perceiving a normal reality.”

She lost not only her sense of spatial awareness but also her perception of time.

“Without the linearity associated with the constant brain directives of my left brain, I struggled to maintain a cognitive connection to my external reality. Instead of a continuous flow of experience that could be divided into past, present, and future, every moment seemed to exist in perfect isolation.”

Jill’s journey began with a left-brain hemorrhage that shut down normal brain functions, yet her experience closely mirrored the spiritual experience many describe during deep meditation or altered consciousness—the feelings of “egolessness,” “oneness,” and “unity with the cosmos.” 

While the exact impact of meditation on brain function remains uncertain, it’s possible that it temporarily suspends certain cognitive processes. Similarly, hallucinogenic substances like LSD, psilocybin, and ayahuasca have been known to induce similar transformative experiences.

“Devoid of language and linear processing, I felt disconnected from the life I had lived, and in the absence of my cognitive pictures and expansive ideas, time escaped me. The memories from my past were no longer available for recollection, leaving me cloaked from the bigger picture of who I was and what I was doing here as a life form. Focused completely in the present moment, my pulsing brain felt like it was gripped in a vice. And here, deep within the absence of earthly temporality, the boundaries of my earthly body dissolved and I melted into the universe.”

Jill marveled at the revelation: 

“As the dominating fibers of my left hemisphere shut down, they no longer inhibited my right hemisphere, and my perception was free to shift such that my consciousness could embody the tranquility of my right mind. Swathed in an enfolding sense of liberation and transformation, the essence of my consciousness shifted into a state that felt amazingly similar to my experience in Thetaville. I’m no authority, but I think the Buddhists would say I entered the mode of existence they call Nirvana.”

The loss of the sense of "self," a fictional character, and the dissolution of bodily boundaries lead to a profound shift in perception. Whether it’s a stroke or spiritual experience, we no longer view ourselves as confined to just this physical body, but instead, experience a connection to something greater, transcending the limitations of form.

“Just before noon, on December 10, 1996, the electrical vitality of my molecular mass grew dim, and when I felt my energy lift, my cognitive mind surrendered its connection to, and command over, my body’s physical mechanics. Sanctioned deep within a sacred cocoon with a silent mind and a tranquil heart, I felt the enormousness of my energy lift. My body fell limp, and my consciousness rose to a slower vibration. I clearly understood that I was no longer the choreographer of this life. In the absence of sight, sound, touch, smell, taste, and fear, I felt my spirit surrender its attachment to this body and I was released from the pain.”

“I am not supposed to be here anymore! I let go! My energy shifted and the essence of my being escaped. This is not right. I don’t belong here anymore! Great Spirit, I mused, I am now at one with the universe. I have blended into the eternal flow and am beyond returning to this plane of life-yet I remain tethered here. The fragile mind of this organic container has shut down and is no longer amenable for intelligent occupancy! I don’t belong here anymore!”

“I wondered how I could have spent so many years in this body, in this form of life, and never really understood that I was just visiting here.”

Interconnectedness and Perceiving

“I yearned to be in a place where people were calm and valued my experience of inner peace. Because of my heightened empathy, I found that I was overly sensitive to feeling other people’s stress. If recovery meant that I had to feel like they felt all the time, I wasn’t interested. It was easy for me to separate my “stuff” and emotions from other people’s “stuff” and emotions by choosing to observe but not engage.”

The right hemisphere of the brain plays a crucial role in processing emotions and perceptions, enabling us to feel, perceive, and experience the world in a more holistic and intuitive manner. By stepping outside of fixed frameworks and beliefs, we gain greater flexibility and openness, allowing ourselves to embrace all possibilities rather than being confined by rigid preconceptions. Thus expanding deeper empathy toward others.

“With this shift into my right hemisphere, I became empathic to what others felt. Although I could not understand the words they spoke, I could read volumes from their facial expression and body language. I paid very close attention to how energy dynamics affected me. I realized that some people brought me energy while others took it away.”

“On an energetic level, if I think about you, send good vibrations your way, hold you in the light, or pray for you, then I am consciously sending my energy to you with a healing intention. If I meditate over you or lay my hands upon your wound, then I am purposely directing the energy of my being to help you heal. How the arts of Reiki, Feng Shui, acupuncture, and prayer (to mention only a few) work remain pretty much medical mysteries. This is mostly because our left brains and science have not yet successfully caught up with what we understand to be true about how our right hemisphere functions. However, I believe our right minds are perfectly clear about how they intuitively perceive and interpret energy dynamics.”

I can also relate to this experience. After crossing the finish line, I noticed a significant shift in my ability to perceive. It’s a peculiar sensation—where perception takes on a heightened form, marked by increased sensitivity, heightened feelings, and a deeper intuition. Unlike linear thinking, which functions like AI, needing vast data points to construct a complete picture, intuition can make connections with just subtle clues. However, since intuition isn’t always infallible, it still requires the support of linear thinking and logical reasoning for verification.