HELP OR HYPE?
„There is a growing number of people in the West who are experiencing Kundalini with much confusion, and turning to medical, psychiatric, parapsychological and new-age healing facilities which are not oriented to or experienced in the handling of the Kundalini process.“ Ajit Mookerjee
As each person’s process develops, they are led through synchronicities, dreams, or seemingly
fortuitous accidents to the teachers, helpers and resources they need. Sometimes these helpers appear
in our lives as a formal guru or spiritual teacher and sometimes in less obvious ways. While those whose
own Kundalini awakening was supervised by a spiritual teacher usually stress the necessity for this kind
of guidance, many people have successfully completed their process without such help. As Swami
Muktananda says: „When Kundalini awakening takes place through grace, it will rise of its own accord,
and become established where it should be established. Kundalini will take care of Herself, for the
Shakti is a conscious and all-knowing power.“ Like many of us who have experienced Kundalini’s innate
intelligence firsthand, the philosopher, Claudio Naranjo, shares this belief: „The Kundalini energy
involves a guiding principle, so that the process of personal development from there on becomes
rather autonomous and spontaneous.“
People whose knowledge of Kundalini rests entirely on religious doctrine or healing theories often
believe they fully understand the process and are quick to judge experiences which are not in accord
with what they „know“ of Kundalini. These are often the people who believe a guru can (and always
does) lead devotees through painless awakening, or that an adept healer can easily balance the
patient’s Kundalini through medicinal herbs, prescribed diets or „energy work.“ Such individuals often
regard the physical, mental and emotional difficulties of Kundalini awakening as „atypical“ and as
demonstration of the hazards of a poorly guided process. But from all the firsthand Kundalini accounts
I have heard, with and without the external assistance of a guru or healer, it seems that to the contrary,
it is completely trouble-free and painless transformation that is atypical.
Since the world is amuck with people claiming knowledge, skills and powers they hardly possess,
finding someone with answers to our spiritual questions or who may be able to help us with our
Kundalini troubles can be an exasperating search. Our Kundalini difficulties often lead us on a wild
goose chase through the ranks of medical, psychological, spiritual, metaphysical and alternative
practitioners whose appraisals of our condition (and recommendations for treatment) miss the mark by
miles.
Friends, family and acquaintances that do not understand our predicament may assail us with
inappropriate advice. Most people do mean well; they genuinely want to help. All the same, good
intentions are no substitute for knowledge. Too many people – especially those professing to be
spiritual counselors or healers – overestimate their expertise in matters of health and spiritual well
being.
Dead-end Doctors
At some point in the process, most of us have sought help from the medical profession. Unfortunately,
traditional health workers who are familiar with and able to recognize symptoms of psychospiritual
crisis are almost as hard to find as Bigfoot.
I know firsthand that Kundalini awakening can be alarming, especially if one has no idea what’s going
on. At the onset of my own awakening, my own alarming symptoms had me in and out of the hospital
for four months, being tested for nearly everything under the sun, including cancer, diabetes and heart
disease. Drawing a blank in every direction, my doctors shrugged off my illness as „probably nothing
serious“ and perhaps caused by an unidentified, lingering virus. But in this I was fortunate. Nearly every
one of the specialists who examined and tested me was a kind and sympathetic human being. Many
individuals seeking medical help for Kundalini symptoms are not so blessed. Spiritual emergence is such
a bizarre and little known process that most M.D.s and too many in the mental health field dismiss it as
dilusion or mental illness. I have heard repeated stories of callous and contemptuous doctors who,
failing to find a medical explanation for the illness, have accused patients of everything from secret
drug addiction to hypochondria.
Aside from the ubiquitous virus diagnosis, a common medical catchall is stress. I was initially told that
stress was the likely cause of my breathing and swallowing difficulties. A woman concerned about the
peculiar vibrating sensation in her body was assured by her doctor that this was simply stress. While
there are physicians who believe that stress can trigger physical illness, others seem to use the word
the way „psychosomatic“ was once intended: „It’s all in your head, get over it, nothing is really
happening to you.“
Often, spiritual emergence patients are misdiagnosed. A young man experiencing typical Kundalini
symptoms of convulsive body movements (kriyas), spontaneous vocalizations, and bouts of emotional
distress was diagnosed as having simultaneous „sub-epilepsy“, Tourette’s syndrome, and bi-polar
disorder. A woman was told by neurologists that her spontaneous trance states and mystical
experiences were seizures. She was put on Dilantin, which did nothing but complicate her problems.
Another woman undergoing a lengthy awakening was informed by a doctor that she had „genetic
psychosis.“ For eight years, a man had been having periodic episodes of psychic experiences
accompanied by headaches. This pattern is frequently encountered in sixth chakra openings. His
psychiatrist irrationally insisted the phenomena (which included hearing beautiful music and celestial
voices in his mind) was entirely the result of a head injury he sustained six years into this process!
Those in the midst of difficult transformation may be coerced into taking psychoactive medications.
Although short-term use of these drugs may be necessary for those in extremely disassociative altered
states (particularly if they are in danger of harming themselves or others), in most instances, these
medications are not required. Many people have told me that such drugs have prolonged, complicated
and even worsened the difficulties of their process. (See more on this in Chapter Fourteen.)
Lost in the Maze
The metaphysical and alternative healing fields are more likely to acknowledge the possibility of
spiritual emergence, yet even here, genuine firsthand knowledge of these processes is meager. When
my doctors were unable to find a medical cause for my illness, I sought other help. Although I was not
yet consciously aware that my Kundalini had risen, I strongly suspected spiritual factors were involved. I
went to three different psychics who gave me three different explanations for my sickness – none of
them accurate. Because I mentioned to one of these psychics that I was still awaiting the results of
medical tests for possible autoimmune diseases, she proclaimed in the reading that my symptoms were
attributable to – surprise – an autoimmune disease. She told me this was caused by a depletion of my
life force. (Only later, when I learned that risen Kundalini greatly increases life force energy, could I
appreciate the colossal inaccuracy of her statement.) Another said my illness was psychosomatic,
stemming from my „fear of my feminine nature.“ He sent my heart into my throat by confidently
declaring that my illness would destroy my marriage. He predicted Charles would leave me within the
year.
Charles had actually suspected Kundalini before I was willing to seriously consider that this could be
causing my physical problems. I asked this male psychic point blank, „Could my illness possibly be due
to Kundalini? My husband thinks it might.“ To which he emphatically replied, „No, you have a
psychological condition. There are no spiritual connections.“ (This ought to have made me immediately
suspicious of his skills, since I know there are no illnesses without some spiritual significance. But I was
too anxious for an explanation for my condition to analyze what he was telling me.)
Once I knew for certain that it was Kundalini, I paid an astrologer to help me interpret possible
obstacles I sensed from what I could see of my upcoming transits. He told me I was finished with my
Kundalini process and nothing of further impact was on the horizon. As it turned out, the transits
coincided with major health crises for me (although I doubt even a more perceptive astrologer could
have helped me avert them). But all was not in vain. As it turned out, my desperation-driven trek into
the world of soothsayers and stargazers was an eye-opener. I had never before consulted a
professional astrologer, and had little experience with psychics, beyond a few $10, five-minute readings
by neo-gypsies at street fairs. My lack of patronage of practitioners of these arts had nothing to do with
skepticism; I simply had never been able to afford them. Amazing how fast budget constraints fly out
the window when one’s life is on the line. And while I am still steamed by the psychic who charged me
$125 for an hour’s reading in which the only clairvoyant pronouncement she came up with was that I
had borne two children, she and the rest of them unwittingly precipitated a healing I had not known I
needed. I was cured of my long-standing mis-assumption that my intuition and self-taught astrology
skills were far inferior to that of the „professionals.“
In all fairness, I should say that although the third psychic was also off the mark on many of her
impressions. She scored a hit when she added, „I am not sure how this is going to happen, but
somehow this illness is going to clearly reveal to you the presence of God in your life. That is one of its
main functions.“
As I began to seek specific information to help me understand and cope with Kundalini, I came up
against a glut of occult, esoteric, metaphysical and other material, which was often worse than useless.
In my early attempts to find a therapist who was knowledgeable, everyone I spoke with made it
obvious that he/she hadn’t an inkling of what I was experiencing. Several, however, claimed to be
informed about Kundalini. One made a point of stressing a book she relied on exclusively in her work
with spiritual emergence clients. I already owned this book and had read it several times; it touched
upon Kundalini experiences, but its scope fell far short of what I was encountering in my process. When
I tried acupressurists and other healers, I came up against the same wall. From the tone of several of
their voices, I could sense they thought I must be some kind of weird-cult fanatic.
One might imagine that gurus, swamis, roshis and other adepts of Eastern religions would be the
perfect resource for help in navigating the choppy seas of spiritual emergence. In my experience, and
from innumerable reports I’ve received from others, this has not often been the case. Of the hundreds
of therapeutic, alternative and holistic health, psychological, metaphysical, New Age and spiritual
groups and organizations to whom we mailed letters explaining the purpose of Shared Transformation
newsletter, the ones I imagined might respond with some words of wisdom or kindly advice were the
ashrams, yoga and meditation centers, and other Eastern religious organizations. As it turned out, no
other group was as unresponsive as the Eastern religious community.
One Western woman whom we had not solicited (and who had declared herself a guruji after her
Kundalini awakening) did contact us to give us instructions for referring new students to her. I wrote
back, thanking her for her interest and saying that although we did not make referrals, she was
welcome to list her name in our „Confidants“ column. Confidants, I explained, were individuals with
firsthand Kundalini experience who volunteered their support through mail or phone to those in need
of an understanding friend to help them weather the process. We never heard from this guruji again.
Religious leaders can be quite territorial about matters of the spirit, and may refuse to acknowledge
the awakening process when it occurs outside their select sphere of influence. Eastern exponents rival
the most judgmental and wildly proselytizing Christian fanatic when it comes to pushing their
conceptions of Kundalini or the teachings of Baba so-and-so. Even one of Muktananda’s students was
reprimanded by another swami who happened to observe the student’s autonomous yoga
movements. „Brother, I am warning you,“ the swami told him, „I have attained full samadhi and what
you are doing has nothing to do with it. You’ll either go crazy within a short time or die.“ (This dire
prophecy proved wholly false.) And when the Christian contemplative Bernadette Roberts sought a
Zen master to help her understand her transcendent ego-dissolution experiences, he could not believe
her capable of having the experiences because she was untrained in Zen and thus „too ordinary, and
too common.“
Inept Advisors
Trying to find someone who really knows how to work with Kundalini can be exasperating. Even with
my membership in SEN and KRN, I have had no luck in this department. When my back pain was most
agonizing, I called everywhere before I was given a referral to a body worker who assured me that she
had taken courses in working with the Chakras and Kundalini. In my desperation for help, I had a
session with her in which she „slowed down the energy“ and „raised“ my „vibration“ (which is in itself a
contradiction), and in the process, made my injured spine hurt considerably worse. Although I tried to
reserve judgment in the faint hope that increased pain was part of the fabled „healing crisis,“ the only
change in „vibration“ I noticed in myself was outrage at having allowed her to lay her hands on me.
While the situation is slowly improving, there are still relatively few people who know much about
psychospiritual transformation. Those who think they know are rarely as well informed as they imagine.
Whenever there is public discussion of Kundalini difficulties, someone is sure to pop up and proclaim
that such-and-such an occult practice, guru, religion, or esoteric healing technique is the true panacea,
which will solve all Kundalini problems. The moment anyone guarantees his system/method/nostrum is
100% safe and effective, a red flag goes up in my mind. Nothing in life carries this kind of guarantee, and
no responsible healer or counselor would make such a claim.
This seems to be a problem universally encountered in countries caught up in the New Age movement.
In a 1995 report issued by Denmark’s Kundalini – Network Information, they told of being „overrun with
various alternative therapists and healers, all claiming authority on the subject,“ but all but a few guilty
of gross „exaggeration and overestimation“ of their talents and grasp of the Kundalini process.
In indigenous cultures there were occasional charlatans whose boasts of special powers, wisdom and
healing abilities were bogus, but they were soon found out and lost their credibility. These impostors
turned up with increasing frequency, as anthropologist A.P. Elkin observed, during times of „tribal and
cultural disintegration, when cunning persons might think there is an opportunity to gain some position
of privilege.“ As Elkin pointed out, even the authentic Shamanic practitioners were susceptible to
corruption by „unthinking and credulous white men“ who would „encourage the medicine man to play
on their desire for mystery“ with offers of money.
Our current social situation of transitionary upheaval invites this same kind of exploitation. In our
isolate society, where clients and students of various practitioners have little chance of meeting with
each other to compare notes, community accountability is lost. I suspect this situation may be
remedied as the Internet becomes more widely available, just as online patient support groups are
springing up to provide a long absent monitoring of mainstream medical practices. It will not be
licensing and regulatory boards, but shared anecdotal stories from pleased or angry customers that,
like in times of old, will weed out the genuine healers and teachers from the frauds.
Too many ersatz experts have narrowly preconceived ideas about what spiritual experiences are, or
how they should manifest. A woman who was experiencing a wide spectrum of Kundalini phenomena,
including occasions where she was bodily levitating, was informed that she could not have an
awakened Kundalini because she was not experiencing heat in her body. Others, clearly undergoing
Kundalini awakenings, were told they were not in a Kundalini process for equally dogmatic reasons:
they had no guru; they were not sitting in a lotus position when the process began; they did not follow
the „correct“ spiritual practices or doctrine; they had not attained an instant state of bliss or
enlightenment; the energy was not moving in the „right“ direction; the process was taking far too long;
there should be no experience of pain on any level, and so forth.
Too often, people are given blanket formulas, such as being told to eat red meat and sweets (when this
is not appropriate to their present biochemical needs), or to exercise heavily (when they are too sick,
weak or exhausted to do so). This can be confusing and even damaging to the person who acts on this
advice. Those whose own process was overseen by a spiritual teacher usually insist that such a teacher
is necessary, adding to the fear and insecurity of those whose paths do not include an external Big
Brother to watch over them. New Age advisors who are moralistic and judgmental compound guilt,
fear and self-doubt for the person in spiritual crisis. Instead of being given help to deal with her fears, a
woman struggling through terrifying psychic plunges was coldly reprimanded by her healer, who told
her she was to blame for this because „You create your own reality.“
Over-confident healers present another hazard. We have heard from quite a few people whose
Kundalini was unwittingly triggered by body-workers, chiropractors, and other practitioners. Many of
these health workers underestimate the magnitude of the forces they are dealing with, and are at a
loss to offer assistance to their client once the Kundalini has been unleashed.
Understandably, former clients and patients feel angry and betrayed by healers who visited upon them
a rash of Kundalini disturbances. While the healer or bodyworker may have freed up channels (in some
cases, releasing too much energy too fast), I doubt these people are causing Kundalini to erupt in their
patients. It is not so easy to rouse dormant Kundalini; most people who deliberately attempt Kundalini
awakening are unsuccessful. I suspect that whatever problem prompted the individual to seek the
healer’s help in the first place was, in fact, the early rumblings of an emerging Kundalini. The
bodyworker or healer may have served as a catalyst for the massive energy release, but unconsciously
and unknowingly, the patient/client was already moving toward spiritual awakening. The healer simply
gave the process an unexpected boost. Some healers believe that every bodily problem can be
ameliorated by transmitting energy to the patient, but anyone with an extremely active Kundalini
already has more energy than he/she can handle. The last thing such a person needs is additional life-
force energy! Quite a few people experiencing Kundalini awakening have told me that after being given
energy by healers, they suffered at drastic intensification of their symptoms. The adage „A little
knowledge is a dangerous thing“ could be updated to „A little skill in energy-transference is a
dangerous thing.“ In The Black Butterfly, Richard Moss tells of a father with an activated Kundalini who
was regularly giving energy to his friends and family through prolonged hugging. This practice
inadvertently catalyzed a serious eye disease in this man’s five year old son. (The disease went into
remission once the father realized his error and stopped flooding the child with energy.)
While it is true that yin (energy-deficient) conditions can be helped by channeling more energy into the
system, the yang (energy-excess) conditions are worsened by such treatment. Many healers know how
to effectively transfer energy, but not all know when or why this would not be appropriate, and fewer
still can accurately distinguish between a yin and yang imbalance.
After I suffered an immediate increase in pain – and no discernible improvement in my Kundalini
symptoms – in the aftermath of treatments from three different body-workers, I decided to stay away
from them altogether. This is not to say that anyone whose Kundalini has risen must avoid healers,
body-workers or spiritual advisors! I also know of people whose Kundalini difficulties were greatly
relieved by such practitioners. The important thing is to be very discerning. There is a wide range of
modalities and specialists whose techniques and skills can be of assistance. Healers, therapists,
teachers and other facilitators who are familiar with Kundalini and who are respectful and sensitive
both to the client and to the energies can help immensely.
People suffering from Kundalini afflictions have been helped by self-hypnosis, meditation, yoga,
bodywork, dietary changes, homeopathic and herbal remedies, art therapy, process work, Chi Kung
(aka Qi Gong) practice, transpersonal counseling, Shamanic healing, prayers and much more. What
becomes apparent from this spectrum is that there are many ways to approach Kundalini disorders, but
no one method which is 100% effective for everyone, nor for the same individual at different stages of
the process.
Separating the Wheat from the Chaff
Basically, Kundalini authorities fall into three types:
(1) People who have had Kundalini experiences themselves;
(2) Those who have studied read or heard about Kundalini experiences;
(3) Self-proclaimed „enlightened“ but deluded teachers and healers, or
(3a) The outright con artists who figure that no one really has had a Kundalini awakening anyway, so
nobody will catch on that they are fabricating the whole of their expertise on this subject.
The first type can be a joy to behold or a source of disappointment. Those who have had
transformational experiences themselves are equipped to give wonderful encouragement and
guidance to others. But some among these true graduates turn around and concretize their own
process into a litany of „do’s and don’ts,“ like Moses returning with stone tablets from the mountain.
Instead of supporting the uniqueness of another’s process, these pontiffs attempt to correct anyone
who is experiencing transformation differently than they did. The third category – the posers – is
unfortunately rampant. Leaders from various traditions say the proliferation of false teachers has been
prophesied as an unavoidable bad element in this epoch of rapid change. Collectively, their spurious
and sometimes dangerous teachings add to the general public ignorance of Kundalini awakening.
To me, a spiritual teacher has a sacred calling. For years, it seemed to me that teachers of phony
„wisdom“ were committing the worst kind of sacrilege, leading gullible seekers astray. It took a long
time for me to understand that just as there are false teachers, there are false seekers. There are
people who pursue spirituality only if it makes no real demand for inner growth or change. These
individuals are drawn to teachers who ingratiate themselves by presenting nothing that might disturb
their students’ myopic fantasies or challenge their preconceptions. While I understand this better now,
this kind of faux-spirituality still disturbs me, particularly when its advocates disparage the struggles of
people engaged in genuine spiritual work.
I have come across a number of purported Kundalini books whose distinguished authors – therapists,
swamis, doctors of metaphysics and so forth – may understand their own discipline or tradition, but
their writing reveals a rote and pitiful knowledge of Kundalini. There are Kundalini classes being taught
by occult, metaphysical, New Age and spiritual „masters“ who have neither experienced nor studied
any authentic literature on Kundalini. Adding to their ranks are the numerous meditation and yoga
instructors (including those teaching Kundalini yoga) who haven’t the slightest idea how the risen
Kundalini manifests and do not recognize classical signs of it in their own students. There seems to be
no shortage of people who, after attending a dozen workshops and having some mystical experiences,
are convinced they’ve figured out all there is to know about existence. One wishes these folks would
take a vow of secrecy, along with their esoteric-blathering ilk who boast that their self-induced
Kundalini awakening was a cinch. (Invariably, they claim to be in possession of secret techniques by
which Kundalini can be mastered more easily than whirling a hula hoop.) Since we created our Shared
Transformation site on the Internet, we have been regularly hit upon by hard sell types who assure us
they have the formula (or magic touch) to set all Kundalini problems aright. They usually swear by the
efficacy of Aryuvedic-this and homeopathic-that, of energy-grounding techniques that range from the
obvious to the inane, of mind-reprogramming regimes, austere dietary restrictions, carefully spelled out
breathing practices and meditation techniques, etc. I am not saying that none of these things have
merit; some of them might be quite helpful. But approaching spiritual awakening with a bag full of
potions, platitudes and exercises reduces it to a mechanical process instead of acknowledging it as the
living, mercurial and deeply personal transformation it actually is.
The idea that all the pain of awakening can be mollified through herbs, pills, massages and the like
keeps us from addressing the real inner problems that Kundalini works so hard to unveil. Generally,
once Kundalini has risen, we can’t get away with Band-Aid solutions for long. Eventually, the deeper
issues force themselves upon us in a way we cannot escape. When Kundalini awakens, our experience
of life and of our own reality is greatly intensified. Many proffered solutions to Kundalini difficulties,
from prescription medications to holistic remedies, are intended to reduce the intensity of the process.
We may eagerly reach for these nostrums in the mistaken belief that intensity is in itself an unhealthy
state. Yet peak intensity is where the greatest breakthroughs in consciousness – and concomitant inner
healing – occur.
Letting Nature Lead the Way
„The safest way to channel Kundalini-energy is through deep commitment to transcendental love.“ –
Nik Douglas
Although they can be helpful, some who come by their knowledge of Kundalini entirely through
outside sources are poorly informed. Gopi Krishna lamented these „parrots“ who could only quote
information they had read or heard, much of it erroneous and of little use to anyone actually
undergoing a Kundalini awakening. For example, Meredith, a woman who was experiencing blissful
energy rushes and spiritual visions, could not relate to what she was being told about Kundalini by
someone limited to pedagogical descriptions of a snake uncoiling and sending searing heat through the
spine as it bored its way through „plugged“ Chakras. To Meredith, this sounded like absurd mumbo
jumbo, and served only to add to her confusion about her own experiences. Regurgitation of
secondhand fact is highly prized in the West. Much of the misinformation and poor counsel afforded by
even sincere would-be-helpers arises from our cultural bias toward external authority. It is the nature of
patriarchal society to deny its members the validity of their own perceptions. We make the clergy, the
doctors, the therapists, the scientists and the scholars the arbitrators of truth. These professionals
decide for us which thoughts, feelings and experiences are legitimate and which are delusional,
dysfunctional and wrong. For millennia, this was an effective way of creating a theoretically
manageable reality. People who would not or could not submit to the official parameters were
dismissed as crazy, ignorant or evil and subjected to public humiliation and punishment.
While this system produced a certain degree of order and security for the population at large, it
stripped individuals of inner continuity and self-reliance. The modern epidemic of low self-esteem is not
so much the result of personal trauma as of an inculcated belief that we cannot trust the counsel of our
own bodies and minds. How can I feel confidence in myself when I am continually told that I am
mistaken in whatever I know and feel; when I am told, in effect, that my heart and mind are liars?
We are indoctrinated with the idea that what is tangible and outside ourselves is valuable and what is
invisible, interior and most creative is rubbish. The body, the indwelling spirit, the intuitive and the
psychic are all manifestations of the divine feminine, and trust in the innate wisdom of the feminine is
cultural heresy. (Thank God and Goddess, this is gradually changing!) I have been pushed to take yoga
classes and do pranayama practices taught by instructors whose sole claim to expertise was the
impressive number of years they had been teaching. Never mind that the transcendent intelligence of
the arisen Kundalini was already producing involuntary pranayama breathing patterns and spontaneous
yoga asanas in my body. From the masculine vantagepoint of mastery-through-will- and-effort, our
amazing inborn feminine power is seen as unreliable, amateur, and woefully inadequate. Wisdom hewn
from direct experience is generally regarded far inferior to the skills won from academic education and
long training supervised by others. Bradford Keeney met a traditional Chinese healer who was very
frustrated with this Western approach; when he tried to teach American doctors, „they were more
interested in memorizing the acupuncture points than learning to hear the patient’s body calling them
to a specific spot.“
Only in the last decade or so has there been a growing recognition in the West that actions based
entirely on ideas, theories, opinions and beliefs (the abstractions of the intellect) are out of synch with
the deeper issues of life. Older, more mature cultures were experientially based and revered wisdom
acquired through direct participation and intimate observation of life. Only that which we know
through the immediacy of our own hands, hearts and bodies is our firsthand truth; the rest is hearsay.
During the intense stages of my process, two people tried to intervene by advising me to „let go“ of my
experience. This Buddhist emphasis on detachment is a technique designed to quiet the mind so as to
invite expansion into an egoless state of higher consciousness. When one is already in the egoless
expanded state, there is nothing further to release! Trying to „let go“ of the transcendent experience
while it is occurring will not make it go away. Furthermore, no matter how uncomfortable these blown
out states may feel (and the intensity of them can be hard to bear), trying to push them away or
struggling to „come down“ from them only increases one’s distress.
For a six-week period, I experienced myself, and everything in my environment, as a unified,
boundariless, overwhelmingly powerful force field. In this hallowed but blasted-out condition, I was
barely able to function, and I wondered if I was going to remain in this expanded state for the rest of
my life.
During this phase, I was not experiencing mental or emotional breakdown, nor was I wildly manic or
self-inflated. To the contrary, this and other heightened planes of consciousness strip me down to a
childlike awe and receptivity. And despite being out of commission (in the sense of being unable to
focus on, and attend to, ordinary details of daily living), I felt supremely safe and unafraid while in this
heightened state. Eventually and gradually, through no effort on my part, I returned to normal
consciousness. Since then, I sometimes find myself shifting into altered states which last anywhere
from a few minutes to a few days. I realize now that this fluidic dancing back and forth between
ordinary and heightened states of consciousness is a natural part of the process. When encountering
difficulties, it’s hard enough to be going through psychological or physical pain without the additional
wound of being told that one is somehow defective or doing something wrong. The pressure to
interpret our distress as evidence of personal dysfunction cannot be overestimated! It comes at us
from all directions: from the medical and psychiatric podiums, from religious, New Age and holistic
spokesmen, from our neighbors, acquaintances and friends echoing society’s contempt for its most
vulnerable members. It comes from within us as well, from our loss of self-trust and self-love. The
process of spontaneous awakening is not within our conscious control, nor does it easily lend itself to
external manipulation. Body-workers, chiropractors, healers, therapists, spiritual counselors and others
who are experienced with Kundalini can help open up the body, enabling the energy to flow better, or
they can give us support to work through psychological issues that come up. But unwise counsel and
self-appointed critics often exacerbate rather than alleviate problems for us.
Maybe I have harped too much on this subject, but I constantly hear this same complaint from others.
No one has ever said to me, „My healer (therapist/teacher) was too humble and supportive,“ or told of
a bad reaction due to trusting themselves or Kundalini. I realize that not everyone can or should be as
much of a spiritual anarchist as I am, but it is better to err on the side of caution than to
unquestioningly submit to regimens that may harm us. As Roberto Assagioli points out, „If the people
in the individual’s environment are enlightened and understanding, they can help a great deal and
spare him much unnecessary friction and suffering.“ Yet the ignorance and harsh criticisms from others
can also be seen as a „test on the path of Self-realization,“ he tells us. „It teaches a lesson in
overcoming personal sensitiveness, and is an occasion for the development of inner independence and
self-reliance…“
Like physical gestation, spiritual rebirth happens at its own natural pace. Of course, some of the stages
are difficult to endure. But there is no safe way to speed up the process. Once it has begun, even if it
has been initiated by spiritual transmission from a guru, it cannot be controlled by the guru because it is
not of his/her creation; the guru is only a vehicle for the energy. In birth and rebirth, neither the
development of the fetus nor the blossoming of the psyche can be directed by human intervention. In
both processes, a far greater intelligence than the limited human ego is at work.
Who Can Help?
When my son became interested in learning martial arts, he was advised by a man who had mastered
multiple forms, to sit in on different classes to get a feel for the different arts before deciding which to
pursue. More important, he said, was the feeling my son got from the Sensei. I told my son that this
man seemed wise. I know from experience that a potentially scintillating course can be ruined by a
poor teacher. Conversely, an inspired teacher can make even the most ponderous subject come alive.
This same principle applies to all fields, including healing. The specific practitioner we consult and the
remedies that work best for us are as varied and unique as the numbers of us undergoing spiritual
emergence. Regardless of the therapy or treatment we seek, the awareness of the healer involved
makes all the difference. Whoever we turn to will be more likely to help us if they have a
compassionate, responsive, open-minded approach. As the more advanced healers already know, all
healing techniques and tools are vehicles for the expression of love. Even invasive methods such as
surgery are far more successful when the physician has a warm and positive connection to the patient.
Psychospiritual evolution makes us hypersensitive to the attitudes and psychic emanations of others.
We instantly detect an uncentered or mentally harsh or uncaring „vibe.“ Therapists or healers with
these attitudes, no matter what their skills or expertise, are not likely to be of benefit to us. Yet a
sensitive and non-judgmental healer or counselor can be a godsend in helping us through painful parts
of our journey.
Once the Kundalini has fully risen, it may take years to complete its biological, psychological, and karmic
restructuring of our systems. As the mystic Mineda H. McCleave points out, Kundalini „is self-directing
and self-healing, and, unmolested, will go in the direction of health.“ Yet even when we know this,
some of us are driven to seek an ever-elusive miracle worker to „fix“ us. Many people run themselves
ragged trying to find someone who will heal them of the process itself.
B.S. Goel followed this same pattern in his own nineteen-year process. „One has a tendency to run to
saints and quacks to seek their help to come out of this trouble,“ he says. And „…even the assurances
of great masters who have themselves passed through this process that no harm would come to the
person fail to produce any relief during the ‘down’ phase.“ Eventually, Goel says, one comes to terms
with what is happening: „One starts understanding this process of ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ and knows that no
human authority can intervene in it. Partly out of understanding and partly out of helplessness one thus
surrenders to it and accepts it emotionally.“
No one can heal us of a Kundalini awakening; the Kundalini is itself a healing. It is no coincidence that
the yogic model of the winding of Ida and Pingala around the central pillar, the Sushumna, bears a
striking similarity to the modern medical symbol of healing, the caduceus, where two entwined
serpents wrap around a winged staff. In antiquity, the caduceus was carried by the Greek god Hermes,
who guided souls to rebirth in eternal life. From time immemorial, the risen Kundalini and healing have
been understood to be an interrelated process.
Finding Our Path
I am sometimes resentful of people but the only time I feel pangs of envy is when I hear about
someone who at an early age had a mentor who shared wisdom with them. A mother, grandfather,
school teacher, kindly neighbor or even a stranger who by word or example showed them something
of the underlying nature of things. Except in books, I knew no one like this until I was nearly forty. The
authors of my books provided me with a spiritual companionship that was nowhere to be found in my
outer life.
Books have been my ashrams, the places where I go to be initiated into the Mysteries. I have learned
from many great souls. The operative word here is „many.“ But I have not found one teacher I could
exclusively hang out with; no osmotic bonding where I received holy transmissions; nobody I could turn
to for answers to my Big questions. Either circumstances snatched them or me away before I could get
too attached, or the wizard turned out to be of the Oz variety, just a little person behind a facade of
flashy stage props. After a number of such disappointments, I began to suspect that I was not meant to
find a personal teacher. For some time, I chalked this up to my anomalous destiny, just one of the many
flukes of my statistically unlikely life.
Now I’ve realized that it points to something else. The kind of soul-wrenching loneliness I’ve felt much
of my life is typical of what I call the paradigm-breaking path. It plays out in its highest form in the lives
of the great innovators: Lao-tze, the founder of Taoism; Jesus, Buddha. These were among the most
pivotal ground-breakers of humanity. In modern times, Carl Jung has been a notable paradigm-breaker.
In a much lesser way, I too have broken my teaspoon of ground. Paradigm-breakers are by necessity
independent of tradition. Theirs is the untread path, the solitary foray into the wilderness. To the
untrained eye they appear to be anarchists, making up their own rules as they go along and heading
nowhere fast. Paradigm-breakers learn to test the wind and check the compass of their awareness to
know in which direction to move. They hold up everything to the litmus test of their experiences, to
their intuition, to their gut-level instincts and to their hearts. Theirs is a journey as venerable as the
followers of tradition, but they have less companionship on their travels.
The more familiar path is that of lineage. Lineage’s are time-honored avenues to the Spirit, be they
Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, Wiccan, indigenous or lesser-known trails. The path of lineage and
the path of the paradigm-breaker are the two archetypal spiritual routes. Both are equally challenging.
One might argue that shamanism is a lineage, but this is only so within the context of a specific culture.
The essence of shamanism pervades all traditions, as does mysticism and Kundalini. (The revelations
that accompany the awakening of Kundalini are said to be the foundation of all religions.)
We are presently in the midst of a global birthing of a new lineage, which is an amalgamation of all that
has gone before. One might say we are ushering in a tradition of Universalism. It is evidenced in a
peculiar thing which has been happening among the wisdom keepers of traditions worldwide.
Previously well-guarded spiritual secrets have been deliberately divulged to the general populace.
Northern and Southern Amerindian holy men such as Black Elk, Fool’s Crow, Don Juan; the African
shamans Malidoma Some and Credo Mutwa; the Sufi guru who told Irina Tweedie to write down every
detail of her Kundalini unfolding; Japan’s Suzuki Roshi, India’s Yogananda: the roster is endless of those
who have in recent years directly taught, or spoken to and through anthropologists, journalists and
cinematographers.
All who have shared their sacred knowledge have said in effect that the time for privileged information
has ended. The need is too great now; too many people are being called to awakening, and too few
wise elders remain to continue in the Old Ways. Now this precious heritage of wisdom must be freely
dispensed for all who are able to partake of it. The closed hoop of isolate traditions must be enlarged
to include everyone, no matter what ancestry or creed. The shift from guarded secrecy to open
disclosure is escalating through modern communications technologies. In a way never before possible,
the wisdom of the ages is being synthesized and integrated by people from all cultures. Philosophers
and mythologists witnessing this change say it portends a collective maturation of the human psyche.
We are growing beyond the age of parental teachers because the spirit of the times demands this of us.
We are no longer totally alone. Our new instructors and advisors are more egalitarian than the mentors
of the past. They are our peers, our fellow travelers, no less human or more divine than the rest of us.
We honor and respect what they share with us without subjugating ourselves to them. And if we
remember how we came by our hard won wisdom, we accord others the same courtesy of discovering
for themselves what is right for them, rather than announcing that our truth is The Truth.
The days of long apprenticeship to an exclusive teacher seem numbered. When such a guru/chela
relationship is not in the cards, one can chase around the world in fruitless search of the right teacher.
Those with no outer world guidance or support whatsoever do tend to have a more perilous journey.
But help need not come in the form of a teacher or religion. It is said that when asked the nature of the
path, a Zen master replied, „Walk on.“ Wherever our next step takes us is where we are meant to be.
Whatever is happening now is the nature of the path. We can’t really fall off our own track. We may
take occasional detours or seem to wander aimlessly, but this too is part of the path. The Prodigal son
finds his way back home, the endless miles in the desert lead to the lush oasis; everything eventually
comes around.
Meditation and Other Practices
Reams have been written about the necessity for regular meditation if one is to successfully contain the
Kundalini force, and every school I know that teaches how to arouse spiritual energies includes (or
entirely depends upon) meditation. I don’t know what percentage of people with ascended Kundalini
have a formal meditation practice, but I hear from plenty of people who don’t. Conversely, thousands
of devoted meditators never experience Kundalini awakening.
There are many forms of meditation that are unrecognized as such. When I was healthier, I used
walking as my daily meditation. I would go for long walks, and after about an hour at a steady gait,
something internal would shift. Perhaps it was akin to the „runner’s high.“ It would be as if something
had flipped a switch, and instead of feeling my legs pumping, the walking was coming from a different
level. I seemed to effortlessly flow along. I could keep this up for six hours at a time without draining
my energy. I thought this was an entirely subjective experience until a friend who knew me well
remarked to me, „You don’t walk; you float.“
These float-walks were a wondrous source of renewal for me, physically, psychologically and spiritually.
I mourned having to relinquish them…
Writing has also been a meditative practice for me. Like the walking, it isn’t until I’ve built up a
momentum that something else takes over, and my writing becomes something I’m a part of rather
than something I’m controlling. The same thing occurs with other arts. „Soulful music is not made by
musicians,“ says Bradford Keeney, „it moves through them.“ Anything that allows us to become one
with life’s current is a meditation.
Meditators who have had mild or relatively non-disruptive Kundalini experiences usually claim that
meditation eases spiritual awakening. While in some cases this may be true, in others it is not. Of the
hundreds of people I have heard from whose risen Kundalini caused serious difficulties, quite a few told
me they regularly meditate. Furthermore, many had to stop meditation for extended periods because
their Kundalini problems were intensified when they meditated. This was true for Gopi Krishna, who
suffered severe consequences when he resumed meditation (albeit excessively) after a several year
hiatus.
On the other hand, there are those who have never meditated who have had gentle and predominately
positive Kundalini experiences. Because of the incredible, unpredictable twists to this mysterious
process, as Charles has more than once remarked, „When it comes to Kundalini, all bets are off.“
I have meditated sporadically throughout my life and sporadically throughout my Kundalini process. I
had not meditated for years when my Kundalini erupted, nor have I found meditation a failsafe for
alleviating the difficulties I have encountered along the way. Prayer seems to be more effective for me.
It may be pertinent that I have a curious, introspective and self-interrogating nature. Before and since
my Kundalini rose, Charles and I have daily explored our dreams and psyches with various modalities
we’ve learned to enhance our personal growth. Chief among these is a shared, very active, combination
psychoanalytical and shamanic method developed by Arnold Mindell which he calls „process work.“ I
mention this as an example of other spiritual tools and self-exploration methods, which I believe, are
commensurate with traditional sedentary, solitary meditation.
Of course, if you feel drawn to meditate, by all means, do so. If it doesn’t seem to work for you, you are
not doomed, as so many meditation advocates suggest. There is nothing innately holy or magical about
meditation; it is just one of many tools to lead you to your center. However, I must caution: practices
and techniques recommended to rouse Kundalini can be very risky when the Kundalini is already up and
roaring. I am speaking of methods like pranayama (yogic breath-control exercises), Qi Gong,
Transformational Breath, rebirthing, Holotropic breathwork, and most formal methods of meditation.
These techniques can be healing or destructive, depending on the awareness level of whoever employs
them. Excruciating headaches, infernal heat, seizures, extreme anxiety and psychosis have been the
price paid by many who learned the hard way to respect Kundalini’s natural course. Although any of
these afflictions can also occur during an intense Kundalini episode when there has been no
interference, the system can rebalance itself more quickly when it is not being stressed by over-
stimulating practices.
Controlling the Process
The prevailing but mistaken belief that spirituality is always a positive and uplifting experience does
untold harm to those of us enduring the very real agonies of spiritual evolution. Anyone familiar with
the histories of the most renowned spiritual luminaries of recent times (Krishnamurti, Swami
Muktananda, Padre Pio, Ram Dass, etc.) knows that physical and psychological disturbances are a
commonly reported part of the transformational process. Regardless of whether or not Kundalini is
active, traditional teachings emphasize that suffering cannot be avoided on the spiritual path. „The
spiritual life and its training is hard and crude; it is rough and difficult,“ Sufi adept Irina Tweedie
solemnly admits. „You are humiliated, thrown down; your face is rubbed in the dust and you are beaten
to nothing.“ Those undergoing involuntary Kundalini awakening are not spared these hardships of the
path.
The expanded consciousness that is the earmark of the risen Kundalini can be ecstatic or tormenting;
either way, it is culturally taboo. Doctors with little or no experience with Kundalini may be convinced
that we are suffering from „religious delusions“ and try to pigeonhole us with demoralizing psychiatric
diagnoses. „Safe and socialized,“ John Nelson observes, „we are allowed but few deviations from
ordinary wakefulness: dreaming sleep, non-dreaming sleep, reverie (daydreaming) alcohol intoxication,
sexual orgasm, and, under special circumstances, hypnosis and meditative states. Orthodox Western
psychiatry assumes that a person who enters any other [altered state of consciousness] is either high
on drugs or seriously mentally ill.“
Reading many Eastern tracts, one comes across repeated caveats that unless Kundalini energies are
controlled, all hell will break loose. Needless to say, such warnings are chilling to those of us whose
Kundalini has risen spontaneously. Upon deeper examination, however, I have found that Eastern and
Western ideas of „control“ are often very different. Westerners are apt to believe that through some
fancy mental jujitsu or application of the will, Kundalini should be forced to operate in a specified way.
Eastern teachers who stress control are generally talking about something else. Robert Svoboda’s guru
Vimalananda, for instance, repeatedly warned him of the dangers of uncontrolled Kundalini arousal. Yet
Vimalananda later claims, „For an ordinary human to control Kundalini is impossible, or nearly so. Only
immortals can properly control Her.“ Since, as he said, almost no one has the strength to control the
cosmic force of Kundalini, it is far better to receive Kundalini as a goddess: „Love her like your Mother,
and then you will be safe.“
I intuitively did so from the moment I realized my Kundalini had risen. While I have not been spared pain
(although I suspect my back problems would have surfaced at some point in my life regardless,
particularly since I have double scoliosis – S-curve – of the spine), my trust and love of Kundalini has
benefitted not only myself, but countless others who have turned to me for help.
Vimalananda also advised: „Always, always remember that the supreme method of mind control, the
supreme intoxication, is the perpetual repetition of the sweet name of God.“ From this it is clear that
„control,“ from the Eastern perspective, is not something that can be done from an egoic level. It is
rather a recognition of the ego’s smallness and helplessness in the brunt of cosmic power, and a
corresponding reach for divine protection and guidance in the form of japa or prayer.
When we are in the midst of this profound transformation of our body/minds, unless we are being
guided by wise and experienced teachers, it is better to trust the innate intelligence of Kundalini than
to attempt to control or push the energies along. I have heard story after story of disastrous results
when individuals with awakened Kundalini tried to force the process in any way.
In his account of his Kundalini awakening, Philip St. Romain tells of his spontaneous passive
meditations, which deepened until he was „melting into the black hole within.“ He attended a Jesuit-
taught Zen retreat, eager to learn more about what was happening to him. To his disappointment and
discomfort, the formal and more aggressive meditation techniques being taught (following the breath,
alternate breathing rhythms and so forth) were of no use to him at all. „The net result was a
monumental headache,“ which could only be relieved by returning to his naturally arising practice.
Others whose Kundalini has risen have told of similar negative results when trying to follow proscribed
meditation practices rather than allowing their inner process to guide them. The idea that a Kundalini
awakening is supposed to be a carefully controlled spiritual exercise arises from yogic literature which
promotes self-induced (and nearly impossible to achieve) awakening. Those of us undergoing
spontaneous emergence know that the process has a life of its own. This does not mean that it has
gone amuck! There is a primal intelligence operative in the rhythms and flows of Kundalini.
The majority of the most vital processes in our lives are not ego-controlled (i.e., digestion, respiration,
blood circulation, bodily chemistry, etc.), yet we don’t find anything objectionable in this. Why, then, do
we demand that the far more mysterious superconscious processes conform to our limited ideas of
what is healthy and productive? Physical or psychological pain are not irrefutable evidence that
something has gone wrong. Childbirth is often very painful; infants suffer pain in teething; hormonal
changes during puberty and menopause can be physically and emotionally uncomfortable. Yet all of
these are natural and necessary processes.
When I hear someone say they can control their Kundalini, I want to ask: Can you control the course of
rivers? Can you control the orbits of the planets? Can you control the force of gravity? I think mastery
and control are misconceptions. We become adept at something by learning its nature and
approaching it on its terms, not ours. Imagining that we have the upper hand with Kundalini is sheer
hubris.
Cooperation is something else altogether. It calls for awareness, respect and basic trust. These can be
hard to come by for those of us born and bred in the zeitgeist of a mechanical and hostile – or at best,
indifferent – universe.
Once Kundalini is awake and active in the system, especially when it has awakened spontaneously and
the individual does not recognize what is happening, the tendency to fight against it is strong. This can
invite new problems. A man who was weary of months of debilitating fatigue (common at certain
stages of the Kundalini process) decided to give himself a boost with amphetamines. This was a serious
mistake; he catapulted himself into a ten-week bout of psychosis.
Another individual had panic attacks trying to resist the seemingly alien force of Kundalini as it twisted
her ribcage and torso into bizarre positions. When she learned that such unusual postures are caused
by Kundalini’s purposeful inner adjustments to allow the energy to flow freely, she relaxed and allowed
the energy to take over. Not only was her fear diminished; she told me that her overall health improved
from that point on.
When the Kundalini awakens, tremendous power is unleashed. The resulting expansion of
consciousness affects every element of our being, from our biological functions to our personal
relationships, to our concept of reality, to our influence in the world. The difficulties of the process are
not proof that we are falling apart; they are signs of profound inner growth and change. Although
sensitive, aware, and competent healers and counselors can help „midwife“ a rebirth, each unique
process will still unfold in its own way, at its own pace. „Even with preparation and understanding,“
says Richard Moss, „the moment of opening is still ineffable and unfathomable and the process of
embodiment as original as every man and woman.“
When easy and pleasant is the measure of the correct way of things, anything that entails difficulty or
discomfort is frowned upon. But nature does not support this view. For instance, baby birds struggle
laboriously to hatch from their eggs. Well-intentioned humans who try to lend a hand by peeling away
some of the imprisoning shell do the chicks no favor. Helping invariably kills them. This suggests that
the birds’ exhaustive efforts to enter the world are in some way vitalizing. (Incidentally, birds are
archetypal symbols for the soul.)
Our culture has twisted the archetypal hero’s journey from a quest for strength and courage to one of
brute conquest, just as we have misjudged nature’s need to be brought to order. Control is a repeating
theme in our social and religious traditions. „Losing control“ is regarded a failure of will, while being „in
control“ is considered mastery. From my experience, the most threatening aspect of the awakening
process is not „uncontrolled“ Kundalini, but judgment and fear. When we can accept the Spirit’s
multidimensional dance within us, whether it is a sensual delight or a violent „dismemberment,“ we
enter into a hallowed relationship with awesome forces. When we ask for – and heed – guidance in
accord with whatever path or tradition we follow, the awakening process becomes a sacred initiation.
Inflation vs. Honoring Ourselves
One must already have a sense of oneself as a person with boundaries before one can begin to dissolve
those boundaries, because the point isn’t to end up in a state of mind where you literally can’t
remember your name or set limits for yourself or say no. – Joan Tollifson
A therapist I called upon for help early in my own process responded to me with exaggerated boredom
which seemed intended to convey his detachment from the dazzle of mystical experience. I was
extremely psychically sensitive at the time and could feel a lot of aggressive, anxious energy beneath
his feigned tranquillity. I hadn’t simply caught him on a bad day, which might have accounted for his
semi-depressed tone. Later I read an article he’d published stating that true Kundalini awakening was
evidenced by a complete absence of ego (a feat which he had presumably achieved).
The more we are given, the more difficult it is to keep our balance and find a way to relate to heaven
and earth without getting totally knocked out or swollen-headed. The religious traditions are not
always too helpful with this. On the one hand, many teachings about Kundalini and spiritual discovery
warn the initiate about the dangers of inflation, while on the other hand these texts and teachers wax
ebullient over the superb level of attainment of one who has come so far in his journey. A strange
double message emerges in which the initiate must behave in a self-deprecating manner while secretly
convinced of his advanced spiritual status.
There are stages of Kundalini awakening that are quite simply spectacular and invoke genuine awe and
reverence in the recipient. Advisors who warn against inflation frequently discourage people involved
in spiritual emergence from feeling there is anything special happening to them, but it is this very sense
of the extraordinary that breaks through our habitual ideation and sustains us through more turbulent
stages of the process.
While for some, self-importance is a problem, for those who have long lived with an ingrained sense of
personal insignificance, their newfound self-worth is immensely healing. Feeling valuable does not
necessarily entail feeling superior to others, nor does it invariably tarnish one’s spiritual beauty. It may
simply be a healthy recognition of our unique and blessed place in the great scheme of things.
This is beautifully stated by one of Rachel Naomi Remen’s patients, a CEO who made this healing
discovery while recovering from prostate cancer: „I am shocked to have discovered this morning that I
am the only me there is. I think this is the key to everything – compassion, kindness, trust of life,
mystery. A genuine and not inflated sense of importance and self-value. I’ve spent most of my life
comparing myself to other men. Are they ahead of me in Forbes? Do they sit on more powerful boards?
Are they smarter? Sexier? Do they have more hair? And all the time there is this other way of seeing
things. I am not one of the motors my company produces by the hundreds of thousands. I am
handmade. Less than perfect but more a work of creation than a product of technology. And I am not
alone in this. Everyone is the only ‘me’ there is.“
At the other end of the scale, as more of us are networking and forming Kundalini support groups, it is
a source of dismay to be confronted by Kundalini brethren with egos the size of the Great Pyramid. An
awakened Kundalini, alas, is no antidote to egomania – many otherwise highly evolved teachers have
had this character failing.
Inflation often masks feelings of alienation and essential worthlessness. The impetus behind the
inflation is a healthy one – the need to matter, to have one’s existence be meaningful. But this impulse
goes astray when one has no real appreciation for oneself or others – no path with heart. Then the
desire to be valuable is used to create a larger-than-life identity to compensate for core feelings of
nothingness.
For some people, a cycle of inflation and deflation has been a lifelong dilemma. In the extreme, this
manifests as a manic-depressive syndrome. Pomposity and holier-than-thou posturing is a smoke
screen which distracts from submerged feelings of sadness, vulnerability, rage and despair. The cure for
this type of inflation is not admonitions to be more humble, but encouragement to explore and release
the buried emotions.
Social denial of the psychic and spiritual realms paves the way for inflation of another type. The
individual who has a spontaneous mystical experience then thinks, „No one in the history of the world
has ever known what I have just encountered!“ We need to respect the sacred nature of our
experiences, but we go overboard when we deem them the apex of enlightenment, endowing us with
the whole truth. Overestimating one’s experiences in this way is isolating and alienates others. The
remedy in this case is exposure to spiritual literature and contact with others who have had equally
extraordinary experiences.
We may mistakenly think our spiritual experiences have elevated us to a transcendent station. From
this „higher“ level, we may believe we are expected to be fearless, exceedingly wise, unfaltering in
faith, spiritually powerful, and pious in every thought and deed. It may seem that God or the Universe is
testing us, demanding a new standard of purity and excellence from us, and failure to embody the
requisite qualities will weigh heavily against our souls. In the latter case, we are not imagining ourselves
superior to others so much as superior to who we really are. We may think we have shed our human
traits, such as uncertainty, ignorance, conflict, and so forth, or we may believe we are being divinely
called upon to instantly transcend all these things and must obey. Either way, we have lost sight of our
actual situation. Being fearful, having doubts, reeling before the magnitude of profound awakening
experiences – these are all natural and authentic responses, which in no way constitute spiritual failure.
Admitting to ourselves that we are still learning and still caught in our human limitations keeps us
honest and grounded.
In my opinion, the more insidious danger is in concluding that transcendent experiences confer moral
and religious authority over others. While many Kundalini veterans are in a position to offer guidance, a
few spout their beliefs as if they were gospel. Some go so far as to create cults around themselves,
encouraging none too subtle deference to their „higher wisdom.“ There is an adage that speaks to this:
„Keep company with those who are seeking the truth, and run away from those who have found it.“
Until the rest of the populace goes through an awakening, our heightened sensitivity, awareness, and
mystic realizations are special, in the same way that being a born athlete or having a green thumb is
special. I don’t see how there can be anything spiritually correct in pretending this is not so. The
mistake comes when feeling special turns into expecting homage from others.
At a deeper level, transcendent awareness does not incline us toward feelings of specialness so much
as it endows us with knowledge of our holiness, and of the holiness of all existence. Attempts to
convey this realization to those who have not consciously experienced it are usually futile. When I
joyously exclaimed to a friend, „Everything is holy,“ he shot back, „That means nothing is holy.“
I understood his point. He was hearing my words from the plane of intellect and logic, wherein
perceptions are relative and dependent on oppositions: without an up, there can be no down, without
an in, there can be no out, etc. This is a valid way of understanding the world, but there are equally valid
means of apprehension, which do not take a linear and discursive route. There is no explaining this to
someone who has never experienced a transcendent view of reality. Only when we have been granted
a numinous vantage point do we see, if only briefly, that some things, like truth and love and Spirit,
have no real opposites. They are complete in themselves, and their apparent absence in certain
situations is actually a failure of perception. If we know how to look, and if we are blessed with greater
vision, we find them everywhere.
In the course of my Kundalini process, the advisors who have helped me most have been those who
have encouraged me to respect my own physical, emotional and psychic instincts. I’m learning to
deeply listen and respond to the messages of my own body and psyche. The „treatments“ which have
benefited me most have been love, patience and faith. Gradually, I’m letting go of my – and anyone
else’s – ideas of what my reality should be. Floating in the endless mystery of being, I’m learning to
trust in my own experience.
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