Sunday, March 21, 2004
Kundalini and Music
It Arrives as Music
When the universe blazes us
into being,
O, what is it we find?
Is it Mozart
patterning our lives
into a crafted tempest of sound?
Mahler, with his rich darkness,
exultant tones
lifting us to those peaks
of celebration
where the sonorous horns
eternally dwell?
Or is it cellos--
think Dvorak,
think Saint-Saens--
think colors
radiant and bold,
infusing us with sudden glory,
token of beatitude,
remembrance of all we left behind.
Dorothy Walters
September 22, 2003
September 10, 2002
So very much has happened since the publication of the book. I mentioned above the trip to Mendocino, but not the absolutely rapturous experience in the orchestral rehearsal tent. One afternoon I was walking on the trail above the cliffs, and heard music coming from the tent. I went up to investigate, and found the Mendocino summer orchestra rehearsing for the night's performance of Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto # 2. First I took a modest seat near the back. Then I slipped down about midway. (The tent was almost empty of listeners.) Finally, I went forward as far as I could go, so that I was all but under the piano.
And there she was, an incredible pianist I had never heard of, (was it Barbara Nisson?) playing with great energy and flair, each stroke a dynamic gesture which aroused impulses of exquisite bliss within my body. Each pore seemed to open, and I felt as though I was literally trying to leave my body in ecstatic levitation. I was totally rapturous, totally ravishing, touching every single cell and membrane. Afterwards, I approached her and told her she had truly opened my charkas. "Me too," she said, "at least on a good day." Here is the poem I wrote:
The Rehearsal
(Mendocino, Barbara Nisson, June, 2002)
'An ornament of the eternal,'
that poet said.
As, indeed, that pianist there
in the huge tent billowing on the cliff
overlooking the sea,
practicing with nothing
but her fingers and notes
and keys laid out over a huge black box,
and the orchestra swelling
against her in the background,
and what that did to
our straining bodies,
every pore illumined by bliss,
our hearts speeding
as if we were being
lifted up,
ascension of levitation,
even our hands opening
to a dense pleasure,
shameless intensity,
hopeless vibration of ecstasy,
the kingdom discovered at last.
Dorothy Walters
July 30, 2002, S. F.
As it turned out, this was but one of a series of intense ecstatic experiences. I talked to a class at UCS on Women's Spirituality, did a radio interview with "Mysteries of the Mind" (Santa Fe, N. M.), and then had a totally transcendent and totally draining two days with Andrew in his class and the next evening as part of a joint performance with Andrew, Eryk, and Mary Ford Grabowsky. The excitement was intense. Andrew included dancing both in the class and at the evening fund raiser. In the class, he performed some rituals, such as prostrating himself at my feet, and having the class surround me and send loving energies. Everything was charged, as if we all entered an energy field together, a field of vital love and sensuous feeling, a preview of the future, perhaps. I think of this state as "group spirit," the sharing and intensifying of energies through common realization.
After that, I was totally exhausted for the next week. When I finally felt a bit more normal, I played the "Trance Tara" tape of Jonathan Goldman (I had been playing it off and on for several days) and had what I could only call "Supreme Ecstasy." All I can say is that it literally went beyond all other experiences, so much so that I had to quit after only 15 minutes, and lie down. But, of course, I felt terrible the next day, and actually thought I would not want to continue this process if the price continued to be so high. So I vowed "Eschew ecstasy...walk more in the park, and eat more strawberries." In other words, follow a middle path between extremes, and enjoy a more "normal" state of being. But of course after a few days, I succumbed once more to temptation, and again felt engulfed in exquisite bliss waves--intense but not at quite the same level as before. And since then, I have repeated the experience, always with the same tape, and walking afterward when I could.
Today I started out feeling great, energized and well balanced. I did my laundry, carrying the basket back and forth across the street. Then I decided to try the Trance Tara tape again, but it didn't feel right. I had a few pleasant sensations, but nothing like previous sessions. And I even felt a bit nauseous, so I quit after some 20 minutes. It is as if something else decided. I cannot make the raptures happen. I can simply "show up" and be ready in case "they" decided to manifest. Again, I am groping my way forward, not knowing exactly what or how to approach the experience, hoping that I am doing the right thing.
In any event, my life has been filled with sensuous rapture many times since the entry in late May--the "anniversary" plus the approaching publication date of the book.
When the universe blazes us
into being,
O, what is it we find?
Is it Mozart
patterning our lives
into a crafted tempest of sound?
Mahler, with his rich darkness,
exultant tones
lifting us to those peaks
of celebration
where the sonorous horns
eternally dwell?
Or is it cellos--
think Dvorak,
think Saint-Saens--
think colors
radiant and bold,
infusing us with sudden glory,
token of beatitude,
remembrance of all we left behind.
Dorothy Walters
September 22, 2003
September 10, 2002
So very much has happened since the publication of the book. I mentioned above the trip to Mendocino, but not the absolutely rapturous experience in the orchestral rehearsal tent. One afternoon I was walking on the trail above the cliffs, and heard music coming from the tent. I went up to investigate, and found the Mendocino summer orchestra rehearsing for the night's performance of Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto # 2. First I took a modest seat near the back. Then I slipped down about midway. (The tent was almost empty of listeners.) Finally, I went forward as far as I could go, so that I was all but under the piano.
And there she was, an incredible pianist I had never heard of, (was it Barbara Nisson?) playing with great energy and flair, each stroke a dynamic gesture which aroused impulses of exquisite bliss within my body. Each pore seemed to open, and I felt as though I was literally trying to leave my body in ecstatic levitation. I was totally rapturous, totally ravishing, touching every single cell and membrane. Afterwards, I approached her and told her she had truly opened my charkas. "Me too," she said, "at least on a good day." Here is the poem I wrote:
The Rehearsal
(Mendocino, Barbara Nisson, June, 2002)
'An ornament of the eternal,'
that poet said.
As, indeed, that pianist there
in the huge tent billowing on the cliff
overlooking the sea,
practicing with nothing
but her fingers and notes
and keys laid out over a huge black box,
and the orchestra swelling
against her in the background,
and what that did to
our straining bodies,
every pore illumined by bliss,
our hearts speeding
as if we were being
lifted up,
ascension of levitation,
even our hands opening
to a dense pleasure,
shameless intensity,
hopeless vibration of ecstasy,
the kingdom discovered at last.
Dorothy Walters
July 30, 2002, S. F.
As it turned out, this was but one of a series of intense ecstatic experiences. I talked to a class at UCS on Women's Spirituality, did a radio interview with "Mysteries of the Mind" (Santa Fe, N. M.), and then had a totally transcendent and totally draining two days with Andrew in his class and the next evening as part of a joint performance with Andrew, Eryk, and Mary Ford Grabowsky. The excitement was intense. Andrew included dancing both in the class and at the evening fund raiser. In the class, he performed some rituals, such as prostrating himself at my feet, and having the class surround me and send loving energies. Everything was charged, as if we all entered an energy field together, a field of vital love and sensuous feeling, a preview of the future, perhaps. I think of this state as "group spirit," the sharing and intensifying of energies through common realization.
After that, I was totally exhausted for the next week. When I finally felt a bit more normal, I played the "Trance Tara" tape of Jonathan Goldman (I had been playing it off and on for several days) and had what I could only call "Supreme Ecstasy." All I can say is that it literally went beyond all other experiences, so much so that I had to quit after only 15 minutes, and lie down. But, of course, I felt terrible the next day, and actually thought I would not want to continue this process if the price continued to be so high. So I vowed "Eschew ecstasy...walk more in the park, and eat more strawberries." In other words, follow a middle path between extremes, and enjoy a more "normal" state of being. But of course after a few days, I succumbed once more to temptation, and again felt engulfed in exquisite bliss waves--intense but not at quite the same level as before. And since then, I have repeated the experience, always with the same tape, and walking afterward when I could.
Today I started out feeling great, energized and well balanced. I did my laundry, carrying the basket back and forth across the street. Then I decided to try the Trance Tara tape again, but it didn't feel right. I had a few pleasant sensations, but nothing like previous sessions. And I even felt a bit nauseous, so I quit after some 20 minutes. It is as if something else decided. I cannot make the raptures happen. I can simply "show up" and be ready in case "they" decided to manifest. Again, I am groping my way forward, not knowing exactly what or how to approach the experience, hoping that I am doing the right thing.
In any event, my life has been filled with sensuous rapture many times since the entry in late May--the "anniversary" plus the approaching publication date of the book.
