Kundalini Splendor

One of the abiding needs for the person who has undergone deep spiritual transformation (and also for those who are dedicated seekers) is a chance to tell their story. Something has occcurred which will change their lives forever. They need friendly ears, caring listeners, supportive audiences. Too often this hunger is not satisfied. Friends turn away, spouses and partners insist the problem is hallucinatory, a defect of the nervous system, some mild psychosis.

And, for a writer, the problem is even more acute.

I know, because for many years I had no one to hear my story, no person to read the many pages I had written.

The other day, I ran across this scribbled entry in the back of a lovely book by a distinguished and well known author. Here is what I had written thirteen years ago:

"Here I am, 64 years old, and still you do not know me. You have cast your words wide, set them up like nets to flare in the mind, for all the world to witness, to applaud or jeer. I have buried mine in a cistern so deep its bottom is only a myth, sent them through the tunnel in the black hole into another universe (my imagination), pickled them like little corpses, or else exotic fruits, waiting, waiting, for the arrival of the precious visitor, for whom they are to be exhumed and--at last--revealed in thier lucent splendor."

This passage was written in 1992, when I was eleven years into my kundalini experience. I felt like someone who was carrying a child, and could find no way to give it birth. (Milton said, "I have some thoughts that rove about, and loudly knock to have their passage out.")It was the next year, l993, that I met Andrew Harvey, who became my mentor and guide, who helped me find release. Through publication, I was at last able to complete the final stage of my voyage, "bringing the gift back home" (as Joseph Campbell puts it in "The Hero's Journey.")

As a result, I have met many others on similar odysseys. We have become comrades and friends, shared our adventures, and in fact become teachers to one another on this rare and difficult passage.

Thank you, Andrew, for this indescribable gift. And thank you, as well, for all you have given to others, who have also benefitted immeasurably from the wondrous openings you have provided for their lives.

Recently, I mentioned the book titled "The Field," which contains some fascinating information about new disocoveries in frontier physics. Lately I have been having some interesting discussions with some friends about seeming parallels with ancient lore contained in certain early Kashmir Shaivite texts. The latter seem, to me, to predict the discoveries coming along at present about the makeup of our "material" world.

Here is some of my reply to earlier responses on this topic:

Many thanks to you both for your responses--especially to Dick for forwarding his friend's comments. I very much appreciate all that was said on this topic,which, despite all warnings, I continue to find a fascinating subject.

I won't pursue this too long, but I do want to add that when I mentioned the apparent similarities in recent discoveries in quantum physics and ancient Eastern wisdom literature, I was thinking more or less specifically of the text named the "Spanda Karikas" (with its commentary the "Spanda Nirnaya"--the English title is "The Yoga of Vibration and Divine Inspiration" in case anyone wants to locate it. Dick, you mentioned earlier you were reading this in the Daniel Odier version, which I do not know.)

My translation is the Jaideva Singh (from the State U. of N. Y. Press) with an intro by Paul E. Muller-Ortega. And I realize that much of my grasp (however limited) of this work is based on his (to me) most masterful introductory comments.

Here are some that stand out, and seem to me to be associated with several of the concepts presented in "The Field" (which, along with other books written for the lay audience, I must rely on for my scattered knowledge of what may be coming up in current theory).

"Long before the discoveries of modern physics, the Shaivite concept of spanda intimates a view of reality as composed of a vibratory web of infinite complexity."

(Muller-Ortega continues going into the metaphysical implications....most physics hasn't reached this point yet):

"Moreover, the Shaivite tradition suggests to us a unifying continuity between our physical reality, the activities of sense perception, and all forms of interior awareness. All of these are seen as phenomenal manifestations of the ultimate consciousness, enmeshed in a complex vibratory matrix/"

Muller once more summarizes the text:

"Employing a variety of metaphors, the tradition often glosses the spanda by the term sphurra, the scintillating pulse of the supreme light which continuously trembles with its own incandescence. In sonic terms the spanda is glossed as the nada, the subtle but powerful resonance that echoes through the supreme silence...."

(Now, more extension into metaphysics): "The supreme spanda releases a vibrating spectrum of energies that originate within the supreme (anuttara). As the infinitely fast vibration of the supreme systematically coalesces and condenses into progressively slower and thicker vibrations, tnagible perceptible forms emerge from the void and formlessness of the ultimate consciousness. These apparently solid appearances are called "cognitions" (puramasa) and they are complex and sustained interference patterns which arise in the intermerging cross-swirl of energies created by the interaction of the vibratory consciousness with itself."

Well, I won't continue, but I do think these excerpts offer material for interesting reflection, in and of themselves, but also I sense echoes with some of the more modern material coming forth from some contemporary physicists. Many of the words and themes seem to resonate, one with the other, such as:

light and vibration ---(doesn't string theory posit a vast sea of infinitesimal dangles of light as the basis of all material reality? Aren't we now told that everything which seems to be material and solid is in fact a deception, since there is nothing, really, but dancing particles of charged energy--something akin to samsara or maya?

Resonance--Here again, resonance seems to be an underlying concept in both areas. McTaggart speaks of the universal resonance of virtually everything with everything else--a constant process of both resonance and exchange of energies.

Interference--spoken of by McTaggart as extremely important--a central concept.

Now, there is much more, and of course the Shaivite texts proceed to link their world view to a total, more metaphysical system. But there are indeed seeming parallels, and I would indeed welcome a review by someone versed in both areas.

I of course have no such knowledge, and hence am forced to rely on what bits and pieces I can pick up from those who write for a general audience. And, indeed, I would never think to try to convince "science" of anything--a futile task, indeed. I would merely like this mythical writer to inform and enlighten me (and kindred souls) beyond my present limits.

And--I would not "tie these investigations to an every shifting scientific world view." I would readily agree that all we could hope to do would be to get a firmer grasp of seeming parallels, not for all time, but for the present moment, which is, I think, a time of possible opening and discovery, not in terms of literal and total concurrence, but some very fascinating similarities.

And, as a final note, I would add that I, of course, tie such discussions to the experience of kundalini bliss, in which one becomes, in effect, a pulsating body of light, an infinitesimal particle dancing in the endless sea of divine consciousness.

I wrote these poems last spring, and had forgotten them until I happened to come across them again yesterday. (If I have published them previously, my apologies--it is sometimes hard to keep track.) They are poems of ecstasy, which, according to the Tibetan Buddhists, is the companion of wisdom and compassion. This notion was confirmed for me again this morning when I looked at an illustration from the wall of the Dalai Lama's secret temple in the Portala. The wall mural depicted a seated Buddha in samadhi beside another picture of wild dakinis with heads of animals, dancing in furious rapture.(See "The Dalai Lama's Secret Temple" on Amazon to look at the illustration.) These wall paintings are said to reveal the innermost secrets of the Tibetan path to illumination. They have been carefully guarded from the public eye, lest viewers misunderstand the message. Clearly, the message pertains to the ultimate union of opposites--inner rapture and compassion.

When I wrote "Unmasking the Rose," I referred often to the "meditation of tranquillity" and the "meditation of ecstasy." I think I was attempting to understand the difference as well as the connection between these two states of being.

Someone Is Saying Mantras

When the body
is tuned to the spirit,
they both lie down together
and make naked love
for a thousand years,
in the night which passes
like a single inbreath
of time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
All I can say is,
I know who you are.

You have been here,
beside me,
from the very first,
o, so long ago.

Now you are touching
my wrist again,
stroking my cheek
with you invisible hand
to tell me you have come.

Once again, in terror,
I enter your
secret dwelling.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
All night long
we two made shameless love.

Kissing and embracing,
we unveiled each other’s
hidden heart.

Now it is daylight
and you are still here.

Soon the mistress of the house
will come
to open the courtyard gate.

Someone is already
saying mantras
in the next room.

copyright, Dorothy Walters

Recently, several of my friends have been talking about "following their bliss" (and some are doing it). Some are, for one reason or another, hesitant to take the "big step," which may change their lives dramatically. Here is a post from Patricia Lay-Dorsey's blog (www.windchimewalker.blogspot.com) This amazing woman, now in her sixties, is beginning yet another new chapter in her event filled life:

Monday, August 22, 2005
An inkling of what comes next...
Do you, like I, find you have to give up the old before there's space for the new to come your way?

This morning before putting up my blog, I'd emailed Kathy and Nancy of the Raging Grannies to tell them of my decision to take time out from being a Raging Granny. Actually I'd told Kathy in a phone call maybe a week ago, but today seemed to make it official, especially after I'd posted it on my blog. By the way, it was a decision I'd been sitting with for months and had suspected for a long time before that.

It was simply time to go forward. But to what?

I had no idea except to know it would involve more than simply dissent or resistance to what I see as destructive/damaging/wrong-headed choices by those in power. I knew my new focus must address the realities of WHAT IS while offering ways to move beyond these realities. I need to be part of creating the world I want to leave to those who will come after us. I must be PRO-active not just RE-active. But how?

Three gatherings this summer have brought forward pieces of the puzzle of who I am and how I can best impact the world for good. At the Continent In Song in Saskatchewan in June, I learned that I have a gift for speaking in front of groups in a voice that moves the listeners deeply. At the Writers' Workshop at Leaven Center in July, I saw that I have the capacity to see inside the experiences of others and bring that forward in words. At the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival a week ago, the young women and womyn of color helped me see that I can bridge differences between generations, races and abilities just by being myself. And underlying those three awarenesses is the fact that I have been committed to justice and respect for ALL beings since I was a small child.

So where does that lead me? As of a couple of hours ago, I now have an inkling.

On Thursday morning at festival, I was visiting with Andrea, a DART sister-camper who works as a social worker in Boston. I have always admired her intelligent, truth-telling way of being in the world. As we talked, she was rushing to get dressed for a workshop facilitated by a woman whom she said was excellent. The workshop, which was being held right next door in the DART Workshop tent, was called "Where Do I Have Privilege?" and was being facilitated by Jona Olsson of Cultural Bridges. I decided to go. By the way, it was the ONLY workshop I attended the entire week.

Perhaps 30 women showed up. As we soon discovered, we were a wonderfully diverse group. Jona started by showing us what she called the Cage of Oppression, a drawing that identified things like racism, classism, homophobia, sexism, ageism, lookism (how we physically look to others), and ableism. She spoke briefly about each of these before asking that, in this workshop, we focus more on our places of privilege rather than staying stuck in where we feel oppressed. For many of the women that meant looking at something besides sexism and homophobia.

Her technique for helping us see our places of privilege was first to ask three women who identified as heterosexual to come forward and dialogue among themselves about what it meant day-to-day to be heterosexual in a culture that values that way of being in relationship. The rest of us were to listen and try to take in what was being said. After five minutes or so, those women went back to their places and three different women were asked to come forward. These women, self-identified lesbians, were to dialogue on THEIR day-to-day experiences of being gay in our culture. This same process was repeated for each type of oppression and their respective places of privilege. What an eye-opener!

After the workshop I spoke with Jona about the possibility of bringing her to Detroit and Ann Arbor to facilitate such workshops with groups that were coming to mind, workshops not just on privilege but on other topics regarding cultural diversity and dismantling oppression.

Two days ago I received an email from Laurel, a young activist from Ann Arbor with whom I'd talked at the beginning of the workshop when Jona had invited us to go up to someone we didn't already know. In it she told me that Jona would be coming to Michigan State University this autumn to facilitate a workshop on challenging homophobia, and would I like to join her in trying to set up other workshops in the Detroit and Ann Arbor areas. Of course, I said YES!

So this morning I called Jona at her home in New Mexico to get more information. As we talked I heard her mention something about training trainers around the country to do this work where they live. I immediately knew that was what I wanted to do. Jona said they're looking at holding a Cultural Bridges training session in 2006, perhaps at a retreat center in New Mexico. I am now on her list of persons who would like to be trained.

It feels SO RIGHT.

copyright, Patricia Lay-Dorsey

And it is! Thanks, again, Patricia, for serving as an inspiration to us all, and showing us that it is never, ever too late to "follow your bliss!" (for those of you who don't know Patricia, she is an elder who lives with her husband in Michigan. Formerly a social worker, she has for years been an ardent peace activist, an artist and writer, a mover and shaker in many, many ways. She herself is "other abled" and travels to peace rallies and jazz concerts and choral workshops all over the country in her special van. Her journal on her website (www.windchimewalker.com) is read by hundreds (perhaps thousands) of people all over the world. Her site is dedicated to "creative disability" and includes many beautiful examples of her own artwork and photography as well as insightful essays on social issues and accounts of her many, many daily activities, from swimming laps to volunteering at schools in the inner city of Detroit.
Patricia, once again, I am proud to call you my friend!

Here are lines from the poet Ghalib:


"Let the ascetics sing of the garden of Paradise --
We who dwell in the true ecstasy can forget their vase-tamed bouquet"

Ghalib
(1797 - 1869)

English version by Jane Hirshfield

(You can find the full text of this poem on www.poetry-chaikhana.com )

These lines offer a lovely metaphor for the experience of the ecstatic as opposed to that of the ascetic. The ecstatic seeks a wild joy (kundalini?), and seeks his/her god with an intent of passion. She unleashes the senses in order to experience the divine in its full flavor. (I am not speaking here of orgiastic or chaotic experience--rather a reclaiming of our inner birthright of joyous feeling.) The ascetic wishes to control the senses--to repress them in order to purify the self and make it acceptable for divine favor.

And here is another thought, a remark made by a friend yesterday: "There is no dark night of the soul...only the dark night of the ego."

There is much truth to that statement. It gives one much to ponder. Often, it is indeed ego which is clinging to or creating circumstances to maintain its own self-important role. But, I would have to add that sometimes, when great tragedy occurs, there is a night in which the soul indeed seems darkened--the occasion is not of our own making, but comes from external circumstances over which we have no control, and a sense of deep grief or despondency is an appropriate response. The feelings must not be repressed but acknowledged for healing to occur.

A final note: I have thought at length about the relationship of bliss and compassion. I recently visited the current exhibit of Tibetan Buddhist art at the S. F. Asian Art Museum. On display was the familiar depiction in statue form of the god and goddess in union, interpreted as the perfect union of bliss (masculine) and profound emptiness (feminine.) Again, in another display, the famed sacred bell (feminine) is interpreted as "emptiness and perfect wisdom" while the companion instrument (the vajra or thunderbolt--masculine) embodies bliss and the universal compassion that frees all beings from misery.

I think this connection is important. Bliss is thus not merely a narcissistic diversion, but an active companion and possibly even a component of compassion. That bliss which is experienced as a gift of the divine can (and should, I think) become an offering to all in need, to all sentient beings, just as a quiet sitting meditation might be. There is no need to shun bliss. It is part of our acceptance of our own place in the divine scheme, to acknowledge that we too can receive and give unconditional love.

Recently I mentioned an intriguing book I am now reading called "The Field," by Lynne McTaggart. One of my friends warned me that the book did not "hold up" well. He felt that in the last fourth of the text the author relied too strongly on materialistic science, and abandoned her earlier more metaphysical approaches. At this point, I can make no judgment on his criticism, since I have read only the first half of the book.

However, I continue to be impressed by flashes of insight and fascinating information she offers along the way. For example, she includes a long discussion (perhaps too long) of recent investigations continuing the esp studies of the Rhine Institute, famous for its efforts to show that it was possible to affect results of "random chance" experiments by thought alone. With the use of computer technology, the experimenters can cover as much territory in one day as Rhine did in a lifetime (he wrote out his results by hand, and the experiments took a great deal of time.) The results (of recent studies) are impressive--the subjects did clearly influence the results in a statistically significant manner. Moreover, when those who were closely connected in a personal way (such as husbands and wives) worked as a team, the results increased dramatically.

But--there is more. Some experimenters devised a mechanical device to test the responses of chickens and rabbits to this improvised "thing." The chickens imprinted on it as if it were a mother, and the result was that the robot(programmed to approach and retreat from the chicks in random order) actually approached more than chance could account for. The rabbits, however, were fearful of the frightening object. The results in their case were just the opposite. The robots actually avoided the rabbits more often than chance would explain.

So it would seem that when we say that we can influence our environment by our thoughts, we must include animal consciousness and feelings as well as human responses.

Who knows what further mysteries will be unlocked as we move ahead in our studies of consciousness?

And, to add a kundalini note, is it not possible that the very presence of someone balanced in kundalini energies can help establish an overall atmosphere of joy and positive feelings? And, if enough people are captured by this web of bliss, will they not resonate together to effect widespread, perhaps universal, transformation? Once again, I reflect, anything is possible, anything at all. As the film asks, "What the (bleep) do we know?"

Lynne Bachleda, gifted anthologist and impressive poet/writer, includes the following reverie on nature as divine reality, in her latest book titled "Canticles of the Earth: Celebrating the Presence of God in Nature." This exquisite collection includes striking excerpts from many writers, from ancient times to the modern era. It is a highly inspiring volume, beautiful in design and execution. I recommend it highly. (It is readily available from Amazon and others.)

The big star has retired after a glorious day. Dragonflies swoop to navigate the lesser winds of a cooler sky. An anhinga, heron, or crane (so much has slipped under the tide) stands at the ready beside his old fisherman, the buddy who slipped him a whole fish. After pausing to savor his luck, the bird tossed it back like a shot of tequila. Their simple relationship dominates this patch of shore. The old man now oblivious, the creature devoted. Soft dianthus pink and slate and dusky green hold their bond.

"Saltwater sees home.
Stirs itself to recognition,
Surges well in my eyes, sure."

It's easy to tell the worshippers here. They visit all day. In this church frequency counts more than duration. Staring out at the simplest of compositions, the dominant design, we who know are still crawling out or trying to crawl back in. It's a lover's warmth or smiling voice. You know it exists without you, but your need is total and nonetheless.

Last light fades. The page glows, but not for long. The breath of God still moves with power. Stirs these waves and makes music in this haunting night.

(copyright, F. Lynne Bachleda)

And the sun goes down in waves of ether
in such a way that I can't tell if the day is ending,
or the world,
or if the secret of secrets is inside me again.

Anna Akhmatova

Recently, I have begun to read Lynne McTaggart's book "The Field, the Quest for the Secret Force of the Universe." So far, I have only read a few pages but these are indeed fascinating.

Three notions have emerged with special clarity:

The first is that we are not merely random complexes of chemical reactions, but rather centers of electrical energy, literally "points of light." She puts it magnificently in the opening sections:

"What they (certain cutting edge scientists) have discovered is nothing less than astonishing. At our most elemental, we are not a chemical reaction, but an energetic charge. Human beings and all living things are a coalescence of energy in a field of energy connected to every other thing in the world. This pulsating energy field is the central engine of our being and our consciousness, the alpha and the omega of our existence."

The second revelation is the role of resonance in our lives and of everything in the universe. As wee centers of electrical pulsation, we resonate with all the other pulsating foci of energy throughout the entire cosmos. We are part of one gigantic, vibrating web of being, each particle and atom dancing in constant rhythm with all the rest.

The third (not from her book, but from reflection on it), is that as the light spreads, so must the darkness, and vice versa. The two are ineluctably paired, like it or not. In the world of physics, this is merely a condition of positive and negative, each of which helps define the other (yin and yang, the spectrum with opposing but interconnected extremes, et al). In the world of human affairs, this is more difficult to deal with, but the laws of the cosmos apply here as well.

And, I believe, all of these discoveries have a direct bearing on kundalini, and help to explain some of its mysteries.

Kundalini itself, when it comes to consciousness, is an awakening to the energy body of the self, the "body electric" of Whitman, the "divine subtle skin" of the mystics (I made this term up also). In that awakened state, one senses, feels as if with a sixth sense, the dance of the atoms within, whether as ecstasy or (when blocked) as pain. One knows, with conviction and assurance, what is going on within one's own inner system, the electrical grid which sustains the individual being. The field flows through all constantly (it is the life force), but now one is awakened to it in a new way.

As for resonance--surely the concept of human as energetic field explains why many spiritual teachers and gurus draw others to them in such great numbers. These beings seem literally to vibrate with a special, delightful frequency, and their followers are drawn to this blissful resonance within themselves. Likewise, when we are with a group of advanced souls (as in an ashram or perhaps a church which still retains the feeling level of spirituality), we too may resonate with the rapturous vibrations of the whole. Music, poetry, art--these too can set the vibrations going. The gurus offer "transmissions" which are, in fact, simply the coming into resonant harmony with the former's own vibrational patterns. Likewise, lovers are caught up in the magnetism of the beloved's vibratory field.

The last of my "revelations" is the most difficult to deal with. Yet we know from perennial wisdom there is no positive without negative, no white without balancing black, no right without wrong. Our world today seems to illustrate this concept--the sea of light touching and enfolding more and more, often through kundalini itself. Yet our world is set aflame daily by the extremists who use their power to destroy, not build, to decimate, not create. It is the old struggle between love and hate, violence and peace. Kundalini too is an energy which can be used (I believe) for either positive or negative ends. It is up to us to choose which side we align ourselves with (or perhaps our roles were chosen for us before we came, at this most critical time in human history.)

We are waking up to new truths, innovative views linking science and the mystics of all time. We are here not merely to witness, but to allow the energies of creation to touch us in delicate and intimate ways, to "carry this vibration," until we arrive at critical mass. And who knows what massive transformation will then occur?

For a Friend Who Is Dying

Let the mouth of the Beloved
kiss your mouth
in holy embrace.

Let the breath
of the Beloved
flow everywhere
in your body
like nights
of tender love.

Let the Beloved
go with you always,
fill you completely,
become who you are.

copyright, Dorothy Walters

The Dawn-Song Of His Mouth (from Stay With God)

By Francis Brabazon
(1907 - 1984)

(Francis Brabazon was a follower of the Sufi mystic Meher Baba. Meher Baba encouraged his followers to deeply meditate upon the great Sufi poets and to compose new works of devotion and insight. Francis Brabazon is one of Meher Baba's best known poet-devotees. This is another poem discovered on Ivan Granger's site
www.poetry-chaikhana.com Thanks once more, Ivan.)

But it is no good talking to you, Baba -- you are just too-much love.
Whatever we say, you just smile with your smile of divine kindness
as much as to say, "Ho, these children of mine, Myself, --
why did I ever wake up and start singing?" This singing of your smile
stretching out and supporting the nothingness of us-of-the-Nothing.
Oh, and the Dawn-song of His mouth. -- I only hope I am still around then.

It's no good talking to One who is the SAYING of the say which one says,
because he doesn't listen because he knows exactly what he is going to say. --
Tired and tired am I of myself. For the wide expanse of the sky
of your bosom I cry. Awake in my heart that I may love you with service --
or else be dust before your feet: anything but this not-even-nothing,
nor a place in your Everything; something, O my Child and my Father.

-- from "Stay with God: A Statement in Illusion on Reality"

Yesterday afternoon, I read this poem and immediately felt an infusion of divine bliss. Authentic sacred poetry can do this--literally fill your being with a sense of exquisite love and otherworldly connection. (Alas, I did not know this during my long career as a teacher of English lit, including poetry.)

After some weeks of "nothing," my own currents seem to be flowing once more. And I have discovered that others of my friends are also experiencing this delightful "awakened" state. Is it the New Moon? Or is it some mysterious force hitting earth with its "rays" as we move always toward higher and higher vibrations? Whatever it is, it feels wonderful, even though we do not fully understand its source or implications.

Thie lovely poem by Walt Whitman expresses quite effectively the relationship between the shifting world of external events and the unchanging spirit within. It is particularly appropriate for the tumultuous times we are living in.


Trippers and askers surround me (from Song of Myself)

By Walt Whitman
(1819 - 1892)

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionate, idle, unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.

(from Ivan Granger's www.poetry-chaikhana.com )

The following poem is from a group of devotional verses called "To My Devi, Poems of the Heart."

The mountain stands steady in its grandeur,
rising from the mists of the lowlands,
summit shrouded in clouds of unknowing.
A hidden path winds its way up from the jungle,
lost to all but one in love.
Blessed by the Devi,
she endured the hardships,
followed her inspiration
and entered the cave of the heart of the mountain.
Her sanctuary found
she shed the coarse garments of the world
and surrendered to the quiet ecstasy of utter stillness
deep within her mountain,
unaware that at that moment,
a thousand birds rose from the mountainside,
taking flight in joy!

Kali Das

(copyright, Lawrence Edwards, Ph. D)

Lawrence Edwards is a Jungian therapist, meditation workshop leader, poet and writer, scholar of yogic philosophy, and generous friend and supporter to many seekers. For many years, he lived with Muktananda in India and the U. S., and continues to maintain a very close and loving connection with the Goddess, whom he calls "His Devi." He is a very wise and compassionate man, truly a model of what a devotee should be. He is active in the Kundalini Research Network, and has served as Director of the Board of that association.

A visionary since childhood, he has written his life story as "The Soul's Journey," available on Amazon.com His website www.thesoulsjourney.com is a bountiful source of information and inspiration.

I am honored to claim him as my friend.

Recently, I saw the movie, currently playing in many theaters, titled "The March of the Penguins." This movie is awe inspiring. Watching it is like making a journey into the very heart of Mystery. The penguins, who live in the coldest climate in the world, endure unimaginable ordeals in order to bear their young in the brutal Antarctic regions. Somehow, dedicated and skilled cinematographers managed to capture the essence of their journey, and create from these precious materials one of the most beautiful and majestic movies ever filmed.

As you can tell, I was deeply moved by this documentary. It made me wonder why we don't spend more time as a people loving and photographing the amazing creatures of nature, rather than going forth with weapons and machines to exploit and destroy them.

Experiences like this refresh the soul. We need to discover such renewals of spirit as often as we can in these difficult times, when so much of the culture which surrounds us is so focused on spirit-denying subjects.