Kundalini Splendor

Here is another poem from Jeannine Keenan. Jeannine is my oldest "kundalini buddy." We met once years ago, and have kept in contact, mainly through telephone and e-mail, ever since. Jeannine is a gifted artist and poet, one who deserves to be more widely known. She is immensely creative. When a fire took out a few acres of forest near her house, she smahed glass into small pieces to hang as necklaces on the charred remains until the land recovered and new growth appeared.

Wings

I woke from that deep shelter of night
into a wood of my own stillness
near a chasm where I had slept
unknowing. My body's dawning.
Rain in my eyes, I stretch to loose
old scars. Let them be.
Root-foot deep in earth.
At last enough water.

I wake in a spiral nest of vines.
A forest of dendrites dazzles light.
My white bird feeds on empty air, eyes
a dance with fire. A sudden wind shifts
through the translucent canopy of green
wind shadows on fallen leaves.
A white swell of feathers lifts the air.
At last the wisdom and terror of wings.

copyright, Jeannine Keenan

Witness


I do not even know if it matters whether the gods under the sea

are blue or if the triune God is one or three. Only this:

here in this wilderness I sense a presence in the soft green

haze of trees, the air heavy with the scent of jasmine--

although it is yet too early in spring for blooming.


The long shadow of the moon bleeds into light.

And in this new day there will be nothing here that was not here

yesterday, only the spring a little riper and perhaps

a thrush in a tamarack tree calling

for a mate that will not hear or come.

Fallen seeds carried in the bellies of birds to a fallow

or fertile ground, and fireflies drifting on currents of wind

their small lights invisible in the glare of sun.

Caterpillars woven in sack-like layers of leaves.


But after this long night of wondering I move into a silence

that becomes sound. From inside my body the awful whirling

of wings, the chattering of beaks, and I am opened,

at last, yield myself to the light, and birds

nestled so long in my head take flight.


copyright, Jeannine Keenan

Like Flowers Blooming at Midnight

I know all about
living in caves
with candles and scented prayers,
crossing the desert which never ends
seeking the One who is always near,
spreading my deerskin
in the forest depths
where the spirits of the blue bodied gods
hang like shadows of watching birds.

With the others, I wove
a story of connection,
something mysterious and inscrutable
we called to appear
with our fires and recitations
our songs of supplication and praise . . .
a voice spoke through us
as we sang
and the centuries passed.

This time I came in other garb.
I roamed the avenues,
mingled in the market
with the restless crowds,
watched and listened in alarm
as the world reeled and
spun down
toward its approaching dark.

And I saw that that this
was the time
to take on new knowledge,
move through different space,
hear with unfamiliar ears,
speak with strengthened voice,
atoms transfigured,
senses restrung,
it is happening to us all,
blazing illumination,
beauty erupting in the midst of squalor,
splendor unveiled
on a field of pain,
we are being filled with light
we do not comprehend
lifted toward essence
assaulted by nameless love
at this juncture
of the finalities,
intersection of the unimaginables . . .
this is why we came.

copyright, Dorothy Walters

The Pilgrim at Auschwitz

Each day, scores of pilgrims come to pay homage and ask forgiveness from those who perished there.

I will bring them
into my body.
I will know how they felt,
because that is the way
I will feel,
pain piercing every pore,
each organ and ligament
shattered to light.

I will hear the cries,
the wails of the mothers
rising with the smoke at dusk.

I will go with them
as they approach the flames,
stunned as they were,
bewildered,
pleading with God,
waiting for an answer.

Lately, a small group of friends and I have been exchanging views (via e-mail) on kundalini and its implications. Here are some reflections from "J" and Elizabeth Reninger, whose poetry I have published several times on this blog.


"I have such a longing to fold myself in prayer, to manifest with my
body worship {what shall I call it} but the need to merge with the
divine, to return to a home I have been too long away from. Last night as I
danced to the chanting in such an uninhibited manner I experienced such a
oneness . . . I disappeared, duality disappeared and it was
wondrous. I have not recovered yet, however the dog seems to feel
he needs a walk and so I am off " J

copyright, 2005


"Yes, i share this longing ... to make of my entire life the sweet
simple un-knowable ecstasy of a prayer ... and find that in certain
venues, in certain langages - poetry, yoga asana, dance - it feels
quite effortless to enter surrender be consumed made love to in this
way ... and in others, not so easy ... so this is part of my
exploration now: how to glide easily between frames of reference, to
inhabit one language and then another, one body and then another ...
in a way which allows that flow, that love, that openness that awe to
be uninterrupted ... to honor/respect schools, traditions, cultures,
tribes, rituals of all sorts, by perceiving them continuously as
transparent to something which joins, not separates ... to celebrate
the play of uniqueness, the dance of lila, while continuously
residing in the bliss which is the mother of all, the core of my/our
Being ... yes

so I don't know, but am hoping to learn ... how to write prose which
has the heart of poetry; how to honor the mind/intellect by having
it fed continuously by the deep belly; how to enjoy the dance of
relationship, the appearance of "other," without falling into a need
for ownership, possession; how simultaneously to "burst at the
seams," to overflow every and all boundaries, and to channel
skillfully my life-force in a way that makes for effective action in
the "worldJ" ...

and am so grateful for this conversation, this matrix of nourishment
support challenge and delight i feel in each moment growing more deep
and vast ..."

copyright, Elizabeth Reninger

I have recently met Michael Black, a shaman,poet, ecologist/energy worker, kundadalini initiate who lives not far from me. He wrote the following beautiful prose poem in response to the question, what is sacred energy?

"I believe that the underlying energy of the universe presents itself to us
in any way that we can perceive it, in realized individuals, in fairies, in
ancient cypress and redwood trees, in mountains, in stones, in oceans and
rivers, in animals, in our own eminence, and last but not least, in the
magnificence of a standing rose.

Our task is to be capable of recognizing, then ecstatically resonating, with
that essence. Opening to that exchange of energy is accomplished in any
number of ways. For instance, among Andean mystics, one opens one's "Cusco"
or spiritual stomach and "tastes" what is there, be it an incoming lightning
cell, the ocean, a tree or a flower. The ensuing vibrational cascade
reminds me that there is no boundary, only Oneness, and in Oneness, we are
each awash in a sea of pulsating, sacred energy.

My life reflects the surface of a pond. Every time my heart beats, all that
I am, all that I feel, is universalic vibrations, energy. These pulsations
emanate inwardly and radiate outwardly. They also emanate outwardly and
radiate inwardly. Macrocosm is microcosm. I am Beloved's Consciousness.
Beloved is my consciousness. I am nothing and I am everything.

For me sacred energy embodies a kind of Consciousness. Its principal axis
are beauty and love, compassion and kindness.

I am drawn to this Consciousness as a manifestation of "Ma, Ma, Ma," or
goddess energy. Ramakrishna certainly thought that it was. Part of me says
"Yes," to such a characterization, and another part of me believes it to be
way, way, way beyond gender. It is simply everything and a trillion
galaxies are but its expression.

I am pure starlight, nothing more, nothing less, that is radiating divine
ripples across the universe. We play together, you and I, whether we know
it or not. We are each of us, after all, old friends trying to navigate our
paths home again. And I am thrilled we are playing together again."

copyright, Michael Black

My dear friend Patricia (I have written about her before) set off yesterday in her van for Washington to take part in the anti-inauguration demonstration there. As I have mentioned, Patricia has a physical "disability" but she is the most abled person I know. Her van is outfitted with hand controls and she carries her scooter with her to ride when she arrives. She is driving through from Michigan in one day (with or without companions). Today she will join the thousands of others who joined to make clear that this adminstration does not speak for them and the policies currently in effect are not of their choosing.

I sometimes think that much of our country is in a trance state, unable to see clearly what is going on around us. There is stirring rhetoric in abundance, but a vast disconnect between what is said and what is being done.

Like Patricia, I deplore what is happening. For me, she is an unfailing inspiration, one who stands up for principle no matter how difficult the circumstances. Thank you, Patricia, for once again demonstrating your courage and commitment,and thanks to all who have taken the trouble to show the world that not all of us have lost our way.

Letter to Issa

Reflectedin the
dragonfly's eye. . .
mountains.
Issa (1763-1867)

O, Issa,
here I am
a person of no consequence
wiritng to a poet
long dead.

Issa, what is a dragonfly’s eye?
Is it a mirror
we walk through
each morning
to enter
our assumed
relied-upon world?

Is it a well
tunneling into
caverns of darkness
and strangely lit hovering landscapes
we travel and call
our dwelling place?

Is it a map of our own
features,
etched immutable
on a scarf of gold,
something to carry with us,
a reminder,
a talisman,
conundrum daring us
to solve?

copyrght, Dorothy Walters

After I wrote the above entry, I discovered that my experiences paled beside those of some of my friends. J., for example, told of simply looking at an illustration (from "The Secret of the Golden Flower") of a Buddha with five Buddhas seated over his head, each of which had five more Buddhas rising above him. After she saw the picture, she discovered that she too could project the energies upward in five channels which emerged over her crown. When she felt of them, they were like waving feathers. When she taught her sister the same technique, J. could feel only four of the channels above her sister's crown. At this point, her sister explained that she hadn't sent the fifth one up yet. J is the friend who also feels extreme energy when she simply holds hands with two others in her kundalini circle. Her energies run constantly.

J. also described a form of "color therapy" with a practitioner who simply applied "color essences" to her own hands before giving J. an energy treatment. J. later spoke of seeing pink at the time the practioner was using the pink essence (unbeknownst to J.)

My other friend, who teaches chi gong, described circulating the energy through various parts of her body by mentally doing various chi gong postures. I had heard of older yogis in India who do yoga mentally once they get too old or fat to do the physical asanas. But I had not heard of this friend's approach to chi gong before.

So it seems one does not have to be an advanced yogi in some obscure part of the world to have very unusual energetic experiences. I think that more and more people will experience such states as kundalini becomes ever more prevalent among us.

I might add that both of my friends approach all energetic phenomena as sacred practice. It is not a mere amusement for either, for each feels she is part of a process larger than the individual experience.

I feel that such accounts reinforce the idea that we are collectively raising the vibrational level of ourselves and of the earth, as part of the ongoing process of human evolution, even in the midst of the widespread chaos and disorder on the planet.

Like many people, I got so caught up in holiday activities that I seemed to "lose touch" with the inner world, that place of magical connection and wonder which sustains us through all. Indeed, there were lovely visits with friends, long walks with others and our dogs in the park, evenings spent watching foreign films on DVD. But it seemed virtually impossible to find time alone to be with the inner presence.

This morning was my first time to be truly alone in quite some time. I really wasn't expecting much; indeed, I was just hoping I hadn't lost the connection irretrievably (you can't step in the same river twice, after all.) But as I was getting dressed after a long and very hot shower, I noticed something like delicate energies here and there in my body. It was still cold in the house, so I stayed where I was, in front of a warm current of air coming from the vent in my bedroom, and paid attention.

Immediately, I realized that soft energies were stirring in the root. I decided to play with them, to see what I could do with mind alone. And, voila, I discovered I could send these gentle, but quite sweet, flows of delicate bliss down through my legs, now one, now the other, with intention alone. This was new. Before,I had been able to move the energies by rotating my eyes or flexing my fingers, but this movement occurred in utter stillness. I thought of the Zen masters who can direct the energies into their big toe just by thought, and wondered if I was moving toward a similar level of ability.

Then, I used mental intention to open the chakras, one by one, and felt a kindling of soft bliss in each. I went as far as the sixth, but did not attempt to open the crown; perhaps that will come later. In any event, I felt like this experience marked a new stage in my development.

It occurred even though I had not been doing any sort of practice, no meditation or movement or chi gong or deep listening to music. It emerged on its own, as if the processes continue within, even when we are not conscious of them. They will rise into awareness at the proper moment, when we are ready.

Now, one may ask, what difference does all this make? How is making consciousness move through the body as energetic awareness going to help the world with its many critical problems? My answer is this: if we are, as many of us are convinced, undergoing a widespread spiritual awakening, an opening of the planetary energetic body as part of humanity's emergence onto a new stage of evolution, such experience is one more aspect of this common process . Our bodies are becoming much more than a physical container. We are becoming beings of infinitely subtle sensibility and capacity. We are literally being made new.

We are like scientists observing an experiment taking place in our own bodies. The new and the novel continue to unfold and never cease to capture our interest. The process continues, no matter where our attention falls or what activities preoccupy us.

And, for me, it is a welcome salute from an old friend, a signal saying, "Hi, guess what, I'm still there, still your guide, still your companion, on this amazing journey you have chosen to take."

And my guess is that I am not the only one "reconnecting" at this time.