Sitting cross-legged in a room at sunset, I am projecting prana from the palms of my hands. Bright sparkles dance around me, and the experience is exhilarating. All of a sudden, however, this bliss is interrupted by two little hands that tear through my inner vision field. Coming from nowhere, they mold the prana droplets into a pillar of light. The energy rushes upward along my spine, moving from my tailbone towards the top of my head. My head tilts back and the river of light projects out of my mouth like a firework. The sound is deafening, and the power of the energy flow overwhelms me. Something—somebody—is sitting with me in the room. I have no idea of what is happening; I also have no control over my body, and I am terrified by the awareness that something immensely powerful is taking over. Yet the very same infinity fills my consciousness: all of a sudden a veil is peeled off my eyes and I see clearly that this is the TRUTH; in comparison, my everyday self, my life, my worlds are all mere fiction. Seconds or perhaps minutes go by, and for that suspended time I no longer am. Instead, all that truthfully is what I thought was me has become a river of light: a light that runs through the empty shell of my former self with explosive force. That light is a deeper, more authentic version of me, and it is telling me something that I have always known and yet always ignored. While unfamiliar to my earthly self, this deeper truth is authentic to whom “I” am.
There is somebody in the room with me. I cannot see this being, but I perceive an immense power; somehow I realize that this experience has an invisible director. Who or what this being is, I do not know–nor do I understand what they want from me. I am both frightened and awed. All that I had held true up to that point has come to an abrupt end; all I thought I was has ceased to exist. Yet, for a time, “I” am like never before, in a recognition of a deeper, more essential Self that has been hidden from my consciousness for my entire life.
After a time I am unable to quantify, the upward flow of the energy collapses like a water jet in a fountain. I fall forward with my head leaning on my crossed legs. The overpowering energy is gone, and so is the mysterious presence. All I can see now is a bright orb glimmering like the moon against a dark background. I am awed, shocked, and utterly confused: what was this energy rushing through me? Where did it come from? All I know is that I want “it” back. I want to regain that depersonalizing and yet expansive sense of Self. As I slowly come back to my physical senses, my sense of smell is saturated with the scent of cherries and roses. Feeling cold, I wrap myself in a blanket and lie down to process the enormity of the event. I am both shocked and disoriented. What has just happened?
Memories of Gopi Krishna’s own awakening experience come back to my mind. I had read his book about twenty years earlier and had given it little thought ever since. Did I just have a kundalini awakening?
If so, why on earth did this happen to me?
I have no answers. Just like Gopi Krishna, I was neither a saint nor a renunciate. Instead, I am a normal human being with an average life. For a long time before my awakening I had kept wondering whether there was not more to it than meets the eye; a brush with the true nature of things is the answer I received. Yet, the events of that day turned my life around. Gone was the deepest poison of the soul: the lack of meaning that is the scourge of life in the contemporary world. While I remained aware of my flaws and shortcomings as a human being, I quickly became privy to the ongoing kaleidoscope of experiences, visions, and messages emerging from the deepest recesses of the Self. Glimpses of the Infinite began shimmering through my consciousness. The experience drilled into me the desire to know; since that day, this quest has been the driving force in my life.
In case you want to know more, Gopi Krishna’s book details a classic tale of kundalini awakening. Do not let it intimidate you, though! Not all awakenings are so traumatic.
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