Or why people who’ve never written, published, or promoted a book should rethink their perspective.
The other day, I was discussing the fun and foibles of self-publishing with fellow writer Brian. I brought up the topic of criticisms—the assertions that bubble up from minds who know nothing of the subject.
“Remember,” he said, quoting Marcus Aurelius, “The opinions of ten thousand men is of no value if none of them knows anything about the subject.”
I’d mentioned several criticisms I’ve received, one in particular, that said I knew nothing about Kundalini. Compared to the totality of what we have yet to learn about the World, the Universe, the Cosmos, our beings, and consciousness, I know relatively little. Even after an eruption of evolutionary energy in my body in 1971, an awakening occasioned by the distillation and combustion of psychic fuel, I know very little. Yes, after much research, I did find out what had happened had a name— kundalini. That much I do know.
People who troll the internet are like fruit flies: they hover over the peelings, narrowly escaping the adhesive behind the blue light. They’re off—until one day. Zap!
The six books I’ve written about this topic don’t amount to much more than Plato’s allegory of the cave… Anyone who tells you that they know it all—is mistaken.
Brian cited a passage from Michael Bradford’s, Consciousness: The New Paradigm.
“One of the most amazing aspects of the Kundalini process is the way in which the psychic fuel is carried from the base of the spine to the brain. Gopi Krishna called it the reversal of the reproductive system, and it is mentioned in some of the ancient Sanskrit texts on Kundalini, which used the term urdhvaretas.
“Although the literal translation of this term is 'upward flowing semen or seminal fluid', it is generally understood to mean the transmutation of the sexual secretions into the psychic fuel ojas, and its transmission to the brain via the spinal cord."
The Chinese tradition calls it the Backward-Flowing Method. For the fifty-plus years I’ve spent observing the psychic fuel coursing through my body, I’ve made it to the mouth of Plato’s cave. Barely.
Brian: I dare say it’s a bit more than that. I’ve read The Biology of Consciousness, the bit about defying Kundalini by what it’s not:
“Because many people are confused by Kundalini’s real nature, we must do more to define it accurately, starting with what it is not. For example, it isn’t devil worship or a supernatural cult. Neither is it a religion nor a sect. It’s a biological process. You can’t be converted to Kundalini any more than you can be converted to a heart attack or an orgasm; they just happen. That’s the nature of biological processes: They just happen.
“Recently, there’s been a tidal shift as more and more people recognize the term Kundalini and practice some form of yoga related to it. As more and more people are living Kundalini awakenings, we’re past the point of saying we don’t know much about Kundalini, that it’s too mystical, too occult. We know a great deal, most of it derived from personal accounts. Scientists may question these accounts and tell us these experiences aren’t conducted according to the scientific method in a laboratory at some university. We tell them this surge in Kundalini experiences is more than proof of concept; it is a working hypothesis. We’ve used our bodies as laboratories to prove it. We know there’s more to it. It’s not only about bliss or magical powers; it’s about accelerating evolution.
“As more and more people explore Kundalini, we are able to examine the process in scientific terms. I like to break the process into two steps: triggers and effects. The aim of the trigger step is to activate a biological process that entails distilling sexual energy and guiding it to the brain. The triggers I used were meditation and yoga. Other triggers include drugs, rituals, sex, energy transference. It can even occur while minding one’s own business. The most reliable trigger I know of is meditation. And although most meditation systems have religious roots, we now have nondenominational meditation methods based on stress and relaxation research that consist of breathing and concentration exercises akin to aerobics. In the coming years, I predict we will also see physiological methods for activating Kundalini that are completely divorced from any religious influences.”
It might sound like I’m contradicting myself about my knowledge of Kundalini. I’m not. I’m at the mouth of the cave after eons in darkness. I look back; I see groping and infighting as advocates of one faith-based system excoriate the apostles of other belief systems.
From the mouth of the cave, I can see both what’s beyond and, looking back, what’s behind, in the darkness. I visualize my ordeal and how I struggled against it. In vain sometimes. Looking outward, I can see the slow movement of evolution.
If I’ve learned one thing after fifty-plus years of living with Kundalini, it is found in this line from PD Ouspensky’s The Fourth Way:
“There is no question of faith or belief in all this. Quite the opposite, this system teaches people to believe in absolutely nothing. You must verify everything that you see, hear, or feel. Only in that way can you come to something.”
To better understand how experience turns into dogma and doctrine, I’m a fan of Margaret Dempsey’s, Female Kundalini. The lessons she learned about top-down, authoritarian systems, that the dictionary defines as: “favoring or enforcing strict obedience to authority.”
The holes the authoritarian leader got his followers into. The holes he dug for them. How they fell right into them. She was the first to become suspicious.
That’s what’s so great about her book: how easy it is to become a follower, until…
