Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Art and Kundalini
Many have observed that there is a connection between erotic energy and artistic inspiration. Energy seems to be energy, and takes on various forms according to its uses. Kundalini energy also has a somatic, often sensual, tone, yet it is distinct from sexual feeling as such, although the boundaries are not exact. One person said that kundalini was "like sex, only different," and that is an apt description.
In San Francisco there is an amazing workshop for process painting in which participants are invited to pour out their feelings on paper and then gather to discuss and share their responses. One woman was surprised when she felt something she identified as erotic arousal during her painting session. Like many, she was shy about revealing to others the intimate nature of her reaction.
My hunch is that what she felt, and what many other creative people feel in the state of heightened aesthetic awareness, is in fact Kundalini, the goddess of creation herself, allowing them to know consciously some of the vast energies which eternally pour through the universe. When the mind chatter (left brain) is still, the right brain (the realm of feelings) awakens, and we are able to open to a different consciousness, often in the form of bliss. We and "it" (the energies which fuel the universe) are one, but the discovery of that fact as literal truth is often a big surprise. And because our society still often frowns on feelings as such, especially anything which is related to the erotic, we tend to repress such sensations when they arise, and experience a certain guilt about revealing them to others.
Here is how the workshop participant described her experience. (Note the reference to snakes near the end. She identified them with the feeling of hate, but snakes as symbol are often associated with kundalini awakening. Further, increased sexual feeling often accompanies the beginning stages of kundalini arousal.)
(Profound thanks to the writer of this description, who preferred to remain anonymous.)
Tolerating Aliveness
I paint my "fast one" (which takes the majority of the night). As soon as I
take down my lady and start this painting I am in bliss. There is so much
pleasure in putting color on paper. So much freedom, ease. Each time my brush
touches the paper it is like a mini orgasm. My whole body is alive, turned on,
ecstatic. (The facilitator) comes by to check in. I tell her I'm fine. Still not
able to say what's really happening: "I'm bursting with orgasmic ecstasy!" But
that's okay. I think back to the first time I had a sexual response while
painting. I FLIPPED OUT. It totally overwhelmed me. I thought I had to stop. I
felt so vulnerable, so exposed. I had a melt down. Painting tonight feels
like my task is to tolerate the pleasure, which I'm able to do surprisingly well.
Building muscles to tolerate this aliveness that pours through, that is SO
threatening to some part of me and so painful when it's not there! (I spent a
week . . .at a workshop on the divine feminine: exploring our essential
nature of pleasure, celebration, abundance-I think that helped with the
sense of being able to have these feelings of pleasure without attaching meaning to
them or feeling I have to do something with them-enact them or reject them.
Sound like painting?)
When it's time to go back to my Lady the flow stops on a dime. I am back,
caught in a story of hate. (The facilitator) encourages me to enter gently, but even
that seems impossible. She asks what would hate look like? Black. Black snakes.
I am back to that. And the moment I start painting them the flow, the
pleasure rushes in. So curious. What about those black snakes? Another
discussion.
In San Francisco there is an amazing workshop for process painting in which participants are invited to pour out their feelings on paper and then gather to discuss and share their responses. One woman was surprised when she felt something she identified as erotic arousal during her painting session. Like many, she was shy about revealing to others the intimate nature of her reaction.
My hunch is that what she felt, and what many other creative people feel in the state of heightened aesthetic awareness, is in fact Kundalini, the goddess of creation herself, allowing them to know consciously some of the vast energies which eternally pour through the universe. When the mind chatter (left brain) is still, the right brain (the realm of feelings) awakens, and we are able to open to a different consciousness, often in the form of bliss. We and "it" (the energies which fuel the universe) are one, but the discovery of that fact as literal truth is often a big surprise. And because our society still often frowns on feelings as such, especially anything which is related to the erotic, we tend to repress such sensations when they arise, and experience a certain guilt about revealing them to others.
Here is how the workshop participant described her experience. (Note the reference to snakes near the end. She identified them with the feeling of hate, but snakes as symbol are often associated with kundalini awakening. Further, increased sexual feeling often accompanies the beginning stages of kundalini arousal.)
(Profound thanks to the writer of this description, who preferred to remain anonymous.)
Tolerating Aliveness
I paint my "fast one" (which takes the majority of the night). As soon as I
take down my lady and start this painting I am in bliss. There is so much
pleasure in putting color on paper. So much freedom, ease. Each time my brush
touches the paper it is like a mini orgasm. My whole body is alive, turned on,
ecstatic. (The facilitator) comes by to check in. I tell her I'm fine. Still not
able to say what's really happening: "I'm bursting with orgasmic ecstasy!" But
that's okay. I think back to the first time I had a sexual response while
painting. I FLIPPED OUT. It totally overwhelmed me. I thought I had to stop. I
felt so vulnerable, so exposed. I had a melt down. Painting tonight feels
like my task is to tolerate the pleasure, which I'm able to do surprisingly well.
Building muscles to tolerate this aliveness that pours through, that is SO
threatening to some part of me and so painful when it's not there! (I spent a
week . . .at a workshop on the divine feminine: exploring our essential
nature of pleasure, celebration, abundance-I think that helped with the
sense of being able to have these feelings of pleasure without attaching meaning to
them or feeling I have to do something with them-enact them or reject them.
Sound like painting?)
When it's time to go back to my Lady the flow stops on a dime. I am back,
caught in a story of hate. (The facilitator) encourages me to enter gently, but even
that seems impossible. She asks what would hate look like? Black. Black snakes.
I am back to that. And the moment I start painting them the flow, the
pleasure rushes in. So curious. What about those black snakes? Another
discussion.
