Kundalini Splendor

(picture by Dorothy)

The Heron Listening

The Mystic reels, yes,
from passion to passion,
plummets
from one discovered
radiance to the next.

The heron listening
at the edge of the water,
flame of whiteness,
purity translucent, unstained.

The deer peering curiously
from forest darkness,
delicate observer,
wonder lit
by caution.

Pebbles flung
into the random
light
of a mountain stream,
colors flowing
like melting lapis
shot with gold.. .

Any small thing,
insignificant token
is enough,
sufficient
for the moment
to unmask.

Dorothy Walters
February 26, 2007

I Will

If you want me
to fling myself in,
yes, I will do that,
this fire does not burn.

If you want me to linger
along the edges,
in a stance of contemplation,
probing the Mystery--
oh, what does it mean?

If you want me to
speak to multitudes,
to utter
your hidden syllables
to masses of hearers,
I will clear my throat
and begin.

If you want me to be still,
say nothing,
eyes shut to all
but where the radiant
darkness dwells,
I will open my heart
to silence,
let my spirit
swell with compassion,
become love.

Dorothy Walters
February 26, 2007

Burning Clay

It is almost like this:
a code, a waiting key,
perhaps a still tone
awakening the within.

To step now
into arms of darkness,
to open to what awaits,
the love, the fury,
command and echo,
summoning
and release.

Something about lifetimes
of getting ready,
the voice from a past
lost forever in cycles of light,
cones of burning clay.

What will you give for this?
What will you give?

Dorothy Walters
February 26, 2007

I have long been interested in aroma therapy, but really haven't studied it in depth. I just finished a phone conversation with a friend, who told me about a friend of his who has recently been using this technique for pain (which she has had a great deal of in recent years). She was relieved of all pain almost instantaneously after trying the essences prepared for her by a very gifted aroma therapy healer (who is also psychic). She shared her essences with friends (who were also experiencing similar pain) and they too had quick relief.

Is such near magical healing possible? I think so, under the right circumstances. Those circumstances would involve the sensitivity level of the subject (how closely in touch they are with their own subtle bodies) and the skill of the practitioner. I think that this field is like any other--some are more accomplished than others in their abilities. And it may not be a matter of textbook accuracy. Conceivably, it could involve that magical element simliar to whatever it is that gives some people a "green thumb" in gardening, or others the ability to cook outstanding dishes from the same recipes that some find difficult to use successfully.

Some years ago, I attended a workshop in which the leader brought us all into extremely heightened states of awareness. At one point, she demonstrated aroma therapy by passing a vial of essence across our nostrils. I remember very clearly the blissful sensation which wafted through my body from this brief encounter with such exotic odors (for me, frankincense and myrrh were the most powerful agents).

So--since I have experienced the effects of such delicate substances, I am a believer that there is indeed inherent "magic" in the aroma of such elixirs.

And so, once again, we are willing to believe what we have confirmed in our own experience. As the experience of kundalini spreads, more and more will believe in its powers. And perhaps their friends and families will also be more open to such knowledge as well.

A few years ago I met someone who was convinced that he had "caught" kundalini from his wife. She had experienced major kundalini awakening over several years, and was at the time well known in kundalini and spiritual circles. He had been totally supportive of her during many times of crisis, and was active in the various workshops and other activities she presented.

I thought this notion (that kundalini was contagious) was quite interesting, but had not heard of similar cases until just a day or so ago, when someone who is currently undergoing a significant awakening told me that his wife is now also experiencing telling kundalini symptoms. She is feeling waves of bliss sweep her body, seeing auras and beginning to write poetry for the first time in her life.

Is kundalini indeed contagious? Can one person be so deeply affected by another's experience? Apparently, the answer may be yes.

Obviously, the results are not the same in all cases. Oftentimes, the mate or partner of the aspirant will in fact be quite disturbed by the other's opening to new spiritual dimensions. Sometimes the consequence can be a rupture in the relationship, as the two draw further and further apart.

I suspect that what happens is dependent to some degree on the partner's own openness to unexplored realms, and the willingness to maintain connection as the two move together into new areas.

Many highly sensitive people can "pick up" on someone else's vibrations, both good and bad. Followers of spiritual leaders often report such responses, and so do others who can "feel the vibes" of the ordinary person sitting next to them. Once we open to the universal vibratory field, we become susceptible to all kinds of novel experiences. We can feel the "hit" from an energy healer as he/she infuses us with the energies of love. Something inside "knows" through actual feeling who has good vibes, who bad.

Perhaps the time is coming when larger and larger numbers of people will "catch" kundalini as it moves through the greater society. In Rupert Sheldrake's terms, perhaps a "morphogenetic field" is being prepared, and as a result, greater numbers will undergo the kundalini experience, possibly earlier in life and with more ease. I like to think so.

Who knows, it may in fact be happening right now.

Today, Ivan Granger (see www. poetry-chaikhana.com) offered the following description of the Indian poet/saint Kabir. Kabir, like Ramakrishna, was unwilling to restrict divinity to a single sect or religion. Instead, as his poem indicates. he asserted that "god" is to be found everywhere, outside conventional institutions and practices, and within the human heart.

Kabir is not easily categorized as a Sufi or a Yogi -- he is all of these. He is revered by Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs. He stands as a unique, saintly, yet very human, bridge between the great traditions that live in India. Kabir says of himself that he is, "at once the child of Allah and Ram."

He was born in Varanasi (Benares), India, probably around the year 1440 (though other accounts place his birth as early as 1398, giving him a total life span of well over 100 years), to Muslim parents. But early in his life Kabir became a disciple of the Hindu bhakti saint Ramananda. It was unusual for a Hindu teacher to accept a Muslim student, but tradition says the young Kabir found a creative way to overcome all objections.The story is told that on one particlar day of the year, anyone can become a disciple by having a master speak the name of God over him. It is common for those who live near the Ganges to take their morning bath there in the sacred waters. The bhakti saint Ramananda took his bath as he did every day, by arising before dawn. On this special day, Ramananda awoke before dawn and found his customary way down to the steps of the Ganges. As he was walking down the steps to the waters, a little hand reached out in the predawn morning and grabbed the saint's big toe. Ramananda taken by surprise and he expressed his shock by calling out the name of God. Looking down he saw in the early morning light the hand of the young Kabir. After his bath in the early light he noticed that on the back of the little one's hand was written in Arabic the name Kabir. He adopted him as son and disciple and brought him back to his ashrama, much to the disturbance of his Hindu students, some of whom left in righteous protest.

It is said that what really made this meeting the most special is that in this case it, was only after Kabir's enlightenment that Ramananda, his teacher, became enlightened. Not much is known about what sort of spiritual training Kabir may have received. He did not become a sadhu or rununciate. Kabir never abandoned worldly life, choosing instead to live a balanced life of householder and mystic, tradesman and contemplative. Kabir was married, had children, and lived the simple life of a weaver.

Although Kabir labored to bring the often clashing religious cultures of Islam and Hinduism together, he was equally disdainful of professional piety in any form. This earned him the hatred and persecution of the religious authorities in Varanasi. Nearing age 60, he was denounced before the king but, because of his Muslim birth, he was spared execution and, instead, banished from the region. He subsequently lived a life of exile, traveling through northern India with a group of disciples. In 1518, he died at Maghar near Gorakhpur.

One of the most loved legends associated with Kabir is told of his funeral. Kabir's disciples disputed over his body, the Muslims wanting to claim the body for burial, the Hindus wanting to cremate the body. Kabir appeared to the arguing disciples and told them to lift the burial shroud. When they did so, they found fragrant flowers where the body had rested. The flowers were divided, and the Muslims buried the flowers while the Hindus reverently committed them to fire.

(copyright, Ivan Granger)

Here is one of Kabir's best known poems:

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine
rooms, nor in synagogues, not in cathedrals,
not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding
around your own neck, nor in eating nothing but
vegetables.
When you really look for me, you will see me
instantly--
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says, Student, tell me, what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.

(tr., Robert Bly, "The Kabir Book")

(Dorothy's friend in the park)


NOTE: Shri Ramakrishna (1836-1886) was a noted Indian bhakta (lover of God) who could barely write. Yet his presence and avowed beliefs left an indelible mark on Hindu thought and practice. He stood outside all the traditional schools, preferring his own simple and highly devout dedication to the goddess herself in the form of Kali or Shakti.


(The following quotation is taken from "Vedanta, Heart of Hinduism,"
by Hans Torwesten.)

In Ramakrishna's case, all aspects of the divine reality were equally valid, not because of indifference but because his intense love embraced them all--including even Christ and the God of Islam. He did not just "tolerate" them. Quite the contrary! He lived with them, became totally absorbed in them, and in turn discovered each to be a gateway to the impersonal absolute, in his eyes their common ground.

We never have the impression that Ramakrishna consciously labored to achieve this synthesis of the different religious traditions; he quite simply experienced them without the slightest sectarian prejudice, then in the end declared that each revealed a certain aspect of the divine reality. He compared God to a chameleon which constantly changes color, saying that people get into arguments about it because each has seen the chameleon only briefly and one asserts that it is a beautiful red, the other that it is a bright green; that only the one actually living under the tree where the chameleon also lives knows that it takes on different colors--even sometimes seeming to be without any color at all. "God has many names and innumerable forms, through which we can approach Him. . . . Just as water is called by different names in various languages...so is the one Sat-chit-ananda called by some 'God,'
by others 'Allah,' by some 'Hari,' and again by others 'Brahman.'"

Note: I now have a digital camera, and from time to time will be posting my early pictures, such as the one above.

The following poem was written (or "channeled") by Cloud of Unknowing, whose work has previously appeared on this site.

The Liturgy of Light
Transcribed by Cloud of Unknowing
Under the guidance of the Congregants of Her Divine Love
February 16, 2007


In the Hall of Light the Congregants gather
Those who see the Divine in the form of the Goddess

There is one Divine Spirit
Eternal, the Spirit that grounds all form
This Spirit is Love
Eternal, undying love
Love of infinite names
God of all Souls
All gods are a facet, a reflection of this Spirit

This is the liturgy of the Congregants of Divine Love
Those who see this Spirit in the form of the Love Goddess
The Spirit takes the form best-suited for each of us
For some this is God, some Allah, Buddha, Christ, Atman, Krishna , Ahura Mazda, Shiva, Zeus
All names for facets of the One
A facet for every one, all cells of the Greater One
The Congregants of Divine Love experience the Spirit as Love Goddess
This is how we worship

Oh, Goddess, great Mother,
Goddess of Light
Goddess of Love
Goddess of Mercy
Goddess of Compassion
Goddess of Passion
Goddess of Sex
And Goddess of Chastity

Bless us as your children
Bless us as your lovers
We worship you
We give you thanks
We thank you for your glory
Revealed to us in the Divine Feminine

Makes us instruments of your love on all the planes
The Material, the Ethereal, the Astral, the Heavenly
Your gardens, your playgrounds
Make us instruments of your mercy and compassion
Help us to heal those in pain
Help us to heal those in sorrow
Help us to see You in All Things
For you are in All Things
Because You Are All Things

Goddess of Divine Love
Goddess of Passion, Goddess of Desire
And Goddess of Restraint
You are Athena, Wisdom in form, strategy, knowledge, justice
You are Aphrodite, Passion in form, love, sexuality, warmth
Athena and Aphrodite are two of your faces
Some of us see you as Mother
Some of us see you as Lover
Draw us closer to you
In whatever way is best for each of us

We pray now for all in pain
All women, all men, all children, all animals, all beings
All are reflections of You
You created us to Love us
And you call us back to you through Love in all its forms

Oh, beautiful Goddess
Woman of Heavenly Light
Take us, love us
Help us to love others
Help us to love ourselves
For in others and ourselves
We see the reflection of You
Whatever we do to others
We do to You and ourselves
Help us give others love and pleasure, knowledge and mercy
So that we give You love, pleasure, knowledge, and mercy
Your desire is mercy and love, not judgment
Help us be like You
Help us Be Love

Your fruit is ecstasy
Your milk ambrosia
Take us and love us in whatever way You will
We are your creations
Our tears drop gladly down our cheeks
Flowing from the infinite well of your blessed eternal Love

After the song is sung
We Congregants Embrace
Her love flows between us
There is Bliss beyond knowing in Her smile as She watches Her Congregants Love one another
Accepting the Ecstasy of Being, Tasting Divine Love in each others souls

This is the Liturgy of Light of the Congregants of Divine Love
Do you remember it?
If you do, if it warms your soul, you are one of us
If you don't, if it does not resonate in your being, you see the Spirit in a different form than we do
But remember that there is only One Spirit, Eternal and Unchanged
We each understand a tiny part of this spirit, based on what is best for us
This is the form we understand best
Find the form best-suited to you
And love God however you can

(copyright, Cloud of Unknowing)

Flying so Carelessly

Do you know them?
those days
when you ask
what's it all for,
this struggle and strive,
this trying to make things
sharpen,
come clear
the way you feel they should.

The birds, swirling so carelessly
outside your city window,
they don’t care,
they just love
the crazy dip
and swoop
of their sunlit days
high above
the shimmering frenzy below.

The rosy fish,
dozing or circling in the pond
or creek,
they frivol
their days away
waiting for the next bite
to flow along,
they don’t waste a thought.

And that sheep
that swollen woolly balloon
that your friend
rescued
and took home to join
her band,
the one who had stood so long
sad and lonely at the gate
(the owner didn't know
that one sheep is not
a flock,
a sheep needs others
of its kind
to find out who it is)--
that sheep never worried about
its future state,
only its present need.

And then there are the butterflies
weaving their colored silks
as they do their wobbly dance,
or even the waves
bursting against
the cliffs
with their airy fire,
do they worry about
who is watching,
or remembering
the shapes they take?

But you--you wonder if your name
will be included
in the book they talk about,
the one that keeps tabs
on everything
you ever said or did,
all the small whirling emblems
of your life
gathered onto a final page--
acknowledgement at last!--
or if you will slip away,
unnoticed,
as if
you were never here.

Dorothy Walters
February 3, 2007

A Hinge in Time

And then there was the pain,
so vast it was like
a hinge in time,
an antediluvian landscape
where memories burned the breath
of all that moved
scalded the restless hours,
kept us quivering
and still.

There were no recipes
or ancient nostrums to heal, potions
or sages to dispense counsel,
our agony kept us burrowing
ever deeper
into the crevasses of our soul
seeking answers.

Which did not come.
Until at last
we made
final surrender,
leapt into the abyss
of waiting darkness,
gave up trying to know
or fathom
with our riddled minds,
relinquished everything,
even the last scattered particles
of who we were.
And then
the sweetness
moved again.

Dorothy Walters
February 13, 2007

Ivan Granger offered a beautiful commentary today on the ancient Indian poet Jayadeva's classic spiritual work called the Gitagovinda:

Something from the Gitagovinda to get the lover's pulse racing on this Valentine's day...

Jayadeva's Gitagovinda is quite passionately erotic, but it is also considered a highly spiritual work, sung daily in many Indian temples dedicated to Krishna.

For many in the Krishna bhakti tradition, the Gitagovinda is revered in a way similar to the Song of Songs in the Judeo-Christian tradition.

Through song, it tells of the love play, separation, and union between the God-man Krishna and the cowherdess Radha.

On an esoteric level, Radha is understood to be the individual soul that petulantly feels abandoned by God (Krishna) who, in turn, loves all souls (and is therefore accused of infidelity by Radha). But Radha finally overcomes her hurt and rejoins her lover in passionate union. Using the hugely magnetic power of desire, this bhakti classic describes a pathway to return to Oneness with the Divine.

Jayadeva's name can be translated as "God triumphs" and he plays with that in this poem, where the refrain "Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!" becomes a signature line.

Whoever your beloved may be, may you be with the Beloved!
(Ivan)

Here is an excerpt from the poem itself:


[2] You rest on the circle of Sri's breast, (from The Gitagovinda)

By Jayadeva
(12th Century)

(English version by Barbara Stoler Miller)



You rest on the circle of Sri's breast,
Wearing your earrings,
Fondling wanton forest garlands.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

The sun's jewel light encircles you
As you break through the bond of existence --
A wild Himalayan goose on lakes in minds of holy men.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

You defeat the venomous serpent Kaliya,
Exciting your Yadu kinsmen
Like sunlight inciting lotuses to bloom.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

You ride your fierce eagle Garuda
To battle demons Madhu and Mura and Naraka,
Leaving the other gods free to play.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

Watching with long omniscient lotus-petal eyes,
You free us from bonds of existence,
Preserving life in the world's three realms.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

Janaka's daughter Sita adorns you.
You conquer demon Dusana.
You kill ten-headed Ravana in battle.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

Your beauty is fresh as rain clouds.
You hold the mountain to churn elixir from the sea.
Your eyes are night birds drinking from Sri's moon face.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

Poet Jayadeva joyously sings
This song of invocation
In an auspicious prayer.
Triumph, God of Triumph, Hari!

As he rests in Sri's embrace,
On the soft slope of her breast,
The saffroned chest of Madhu's killer
I stained with red marks of passion
And sweat from fatigue of tumultuous loving.
May his broad chest bring you pleasure too!

Who Would Have Listened?

It wasn’t enough
that it happened,
that our bodies
were torn
by a joy so
deep it
could not be translated,
not even a Biblical
utterance
could have captured
an event
of such proportions,
so rare
as to be
utterly indefinable,
there was no one
to listen,
and besides,
who would have believed
such a story
so unlikely,
vastly improbable,
like a myth
or a hero’s false tale?

Dorothy Walters
February 11, 2007

The Secret that Cannot be Told

I suppose there is no point now
in telling how
the electric charges
surged through our
bodies,
bolts of delight
thrilling us
in every hidden
place,
lighting each secret
recess

until we were delirious
with love
for the world,
for the people we saw
coming toward us,
for the radiant flowers
and trees,
for whatever it was
that was
making this happen,
this sudden
immersion
in Mystery.

Dorothy Walters
February 11, 2007

Taking Refuge

We could, of course,
take refuge in the archetypes,
the sons who rescued
the lost princesses
from the tower,
the frogs who claimed
their true identity

Even the bluebeards,
were they so terrible
after all,
perhaps they too were simply
acting out
their compulsions
their need to be
loved.

But what of the
saviors,
the ones who came down
on clouds of gold
bearing the secret relic,
the saving formula?
Who will take their place?

What must we do
to find our lost treasures again,
even if they are no longer visible
or do not have names,
even if they now live only
inside who we have become.

Dorothy Walters
February 7, 2007

The Oracle at Delphi

I don’t know what to do
but to say what I must say,
to know what I know.

The earth here
is unsteady,
trembling as if to warn.

I have gone through
many disasters,
seen the empires
rise and fall.

The celebrated ones come
from afar with tribute,
eager to learn
their fate,
who will be victorious,
who will not survive.

That was before
everything
shifted,
remnants could be salvaged
from the ruins.

What should I tell them
now?
Are they prepared to hear?

Already there is
echoing in the earth,
the seas are swaying,

Who is ready
to listen,
brave enough to attend
to my fading windblown words. . . .

Dorothy Walters
February 7, 2007

Gopi Krishna was a firm believer in the evolution of human consciousness, as I am also. True, the "outside news" is not good. We often experience a state of anxiety and apprehension, no matter how exciting and fulfilling our inner lives. We feel under constant threat, as if the next event may be worse than the last. These are the realities we live with. To deny them is futile.

Yet, I think there are grounds for real hope. One is the growing spiritual movement, spreading inexorably across the earth. Change itself is possible in astounding ways. Think of the great societal transformations in such areas as civil rights, gay rights, human rights under oppressive regimes. At one point not so many years ago America and the then U. S. S. R. had great weapons of mass destruction aimed at one another. Then the U. S. S. R collapsed , the Berlin wall fell, and the world itself was a different place.

None of these changes was really predictable from the perspective of the preceding years. Yet change did occur.

Last night I watched a DVD from the shaman Alberto Villoldo (from Netflix, "Healing the Luminous Body"). Villoldo told us that the Hopis still pray daily for the right "possible future." As Villoldo explained, the possible future is different from the "probable future," and can be brought into being against what seem to be great odds.

I think that deep spiritual transformation can occur on this planet, and indeed will occur no matter what--even if we are all blasted completely out of our material bodies and amped up into other states of being, such as the subtle body or the luminous body, neither of which requires a material base. As far as we know, such beings already exist and are among us, doing all they can to show us the way.

The following is an e-mail I received recently from my friend Genevieve Levitt, who captues most vividly the widespread sense of unease. It will be followed (tomorrow) by a poem I wrote recently which emphasizes that our best hope now lies within ourselves, for we are the saviors we have been longing for.

Dear Dorothy,

Last night I went to a discussion group called "the Philosopers' Cafe" and the "starting" topic was "Hello, I am Bill and I am suffering from Western Civilization". Anyways, as all good discussions tend to do, the topic was only a starting point. One of the observations made (near the end of the evening) was that, no matter how we viewed the world, in good or bad ways, and no matter how much we had hope for the world, there is an underlying sorrow that most people experience even while doing things they enjoy (such as being in nature, connecting with others, etc.) or when things are going well. Something so deep that it is "in our gut". I said I thought it might be partly because we know that we have the potential to make the world so much better and that, looking at the world the way it truly is today, we know that we have somehow failed to live up to our collective potential.

Reading your poem also makes me aware that there is, inherent in our perception of beauty, or maybe the beauty of nature, such a deep longing that it becomes "sorrow". Like we have a glimpse of something so much more than, what? Ourselves? That which could be? The immensity of the order of things? The way all things should be?

I believe, with every fiber of my being that there is an order to everything that is and, when we sorrow, it is both a longing for that order to be everywhere and in every part of our lives and a recognition that it is not. When there is unkindness, lack of compassion, an ending to a loving relationship, pollution, carelessness, greed, even the smallest act of hurt towards another (life, order, beauty. . .) or a recognition of how things should be, we mourn. As though a mythical Eden was our birthright and we are always on the outside looking in. We create ugliness out of beauty, chose cruelty over kindness, hurt those we love, reject those who need us the most, and then, when we see how things should be, we mourn because we have somehow failed. The absolute rightness of some things illuminates the lack of the rightness of others in the same way the light makes us aware of the lack of light or darkness. Can you imagine a world where kindness, compassion, thoughtfulness, love, consideration, justice, beauty, etc. came before greed, profit, being right, being first, recognition, control, discrimination, prejudice....that is the "paradise on earth" I believe we mourn. There is more I "feel", but it is hard to put in words.

Anyways, just some thoughts that came out of your poem. Thanks!

Love,
Genevieve

(Above copyright Genevieve Levitt)

Recently, I have been perusing (again) some of the writings of Gopi Krishna, the sage who has spoken in such a significant way about the nature and manifestations of kundalini. I was interested to notice that he, too, experienced "dry periods" when the inner connection with the divine reality seemed to be broken. And he also mentions that at times ecstatic states returned unexpectedly after significant absence, a cycle that many of us experience.

I was particularly struck by what he says about bliss. I did not remember that in his first book, "Kundalini: The Evolutionary Energy in Man," he mentioned bliss states as part of his awakening experience. The focus seemed to be more on other areas, such as internal heat and increased levels of mental functioning. As I went through my own early experience, which was marked by periods of intense bodily bliss, I wondered how it was that his awakening was so different from my own. Now, in a later publication, I have discovered that he did indeed address the question of somatic bliss, and in fact, named this as the basis of all spiritual practices.

Sublimation of reproductive energy is the basic level of all spiritual disciplines. What the Tantric tradition openly advocates is the covert behind-the-scenes prompter of all religious practices aimed at God-realization. . . .

A full ascent of this radiant energy into the brain is invariably attended by a chain of startling symptoms, both in the reproductive organs and the head. All the allegoric references contained in the esoteric literature, from the Vedas onward, revolve around these manifestations. . . .

The whole area of this vast ocean of existence is flooded with wave after wave inexpressible super-earthly rapture, of which the highest transport of carnal love can only convey an extremely faint picture to those who do not have the experience. It is the divine ecstasy which the allegorical love-play of Radha and Krishna or the union of Shiva and Shakti is intended to convey.

(quoted material excerpted from "Cosmic Consciousness," pamphlet from Kundalini Research Foundation, pub. 2002)

The inflow of ecstatic bliss in this profound awakening process is indeed a source of mystery and wonder. And even when the rapturous states diminish or seem to vanish over time, there remains the memory, the knowledge of what is possible when the human is fully opened to divine love.

The Two Poets

Two sides of a coin,
twin masks mated forever,
the god who looks in different
directions
at once.

The earth's treasures,
the ocean flooding the marshes,
the shale,
the stars winking
their mysterious code,
the pelicans who come and go
with the seasons,
according to their need . . .

and the rain which washes
the faces of the flowers,
even the shyest buds

one looks and exclaims
Oh, how beautiful!
the other murmurs
I mourn, I mourn.

Dorothy Walters
February 5, 2007

In Gratitude to Mary Oliver

Because she was willing to do that,
because she was willing to step forth
and be the authentic one
the true poet,

let the universe of living things,
the hawk's dark beak,
the bear's ravenous paw,
enter, become part of
who she was . . .

She spent days beside
the pond
teeming with its watery life
of dragonflies
bits of darting light
stitching the surface
into a crisscross of transparent fire,
the floating blooms
and the oddly lovable
amphibians
with their bellies
and hanging mouths
and their insistent, awkward hellos--
who else could cherish these in such measure...

reckless nights in the woods
with its stealthy prowlers
and haunting melodies
owl screech
and lonely night bird
chorus of snarls and growls
moving near
crackling underbrush
heavy falling limbs
oh, such sweet terror,
such delicious fascination...
who knows what could have happened
there
in the center
of so much mystery

All of this
she sang in our ears,
gave to our awakened eyes,
as she became god’s messenger,
the vessel to make us whole.

Dorothy Walters
February 3, 2007

The following information is taken from the website for the Kundalini Research Foundation, which has made such a major contribution to the preservation of the writings of Gopi Krishna and to the spread of information about Kundalini. This foundation has depended to a large extent on the contributions of both money and time by those who founded and have sustained this project, some of whom have participated in it for 30 years or so. Gene Kieffer is foremost among these. He traveled for years to India to record the voice of Gopi Krishna, this key figure. Tom Kay (who recorded the "Last Interview") has also made a major contribution. His website also includes much significant material on this subject.

We should all extend our gratitude to Gene Kieffer and those such as Tom who have devoted themselves to this project.

For more, see:

www.kundaliniresearch.org

http://www.ecomall.com

About the Kundalini Paradigm


The kundalini paradigm hypothesizes that the operation of a psycho-somatic evolutionary mechanism in the human frame, sometimes called kundalini, is responsible for genius, creative expression, psychical perception, inspiration, and other paranormal phenomena, when its workings are benign, and insanity when the mechanism goes awry.

All systems of Yoga are based on the observation that living bodies owe their existence to the agency of an extremely subtle substance pervading the universe and designated as Prana, which is the cause of all organic phenomena. Prana --known in various cultures as chi, vital life, bio-energy, orgone, astral light, manas, spereima, the breath of life, and the holy spirit-- is not matter, nor is it mind or intelligence or consciousness, but rather an inseparable part of the cosmic energy or Shakti which resides in all of them and is the driving force behind all cosmic phenomenon, as force in matter and vitality in living organisms.

Carl F. F. von Weizsacker, the eminent physicist, has written that the concept of prana is compatible with present-day physics. Pointing out that prana is spatially extended and vitalizing, Weizsacker compares this "moving potency" to the "probability amplitude" of quantum theory. (please see Carl F. F. von Weizsacker's introduction to The Biological Basis of Religion and Genius, by Gopi Krishna, New York & London, Harper and Row, 1971: 42-3.)

Kundalini, a Sanskrit term meaning "coiled up," is the evolutionary potency of Prana. The term kundalini designates a force which is normally latent or dormant, but which can be activated by spiritual disciplines and made to act like a spring when it is released.

In the individual human being, Prana is thought to be concentrated in the sex-energy as a biochemical essence composed of the subtlest elements, existing as radiation on a subatomic level. According to the kundalini paradigm, the reproductive system also functions as the evolutionary mechanism. By "the arousal of kundalini" is meant the reversal of the reproductive system, as a fine stream of nerve-energy is sublimated and transmitted up the cerebrol-spinal system, irradiating the brain.

The kundalini paradigm also states that the evolutionary transformation can be duplicated and verified, in the same manner as any scientific demonstration. The procedures and conditions are elaborated in the sacred literature of every culture, and include all forms of yoga and meditation that attempt to harmoniously develop the whole personality --the physical, mental, ethical, aesthetic, and spiritual.

"By each of these disciplines," says Plato in The Republic (VII:527e), "a certain organ of the soul is both purified and reanimated which is blinded and buried by studies of another kind; an organ better worth saving than ten thousand eyes, since Truth is perceived by it alone."

The purpose of the Kundalini Research Foundation is to encourage the scientific investigation of "these disciplines" and of the ensuing evolutionary transformation of consciousness. This is an important step in the development of a unifying world view that is capable of guiding humanity to a more healthy, peaceful, and prosperous future.

copyright, Kundalini Research Foundation

Naming God

The Protester:

Who can name god?
Confine the infinite
in a shell, shrink
the immeasurable
to a bounded thing?

The ancients spoke of
that which was above all else, but
without name or form.

The secret lover,
the friend,
the stealthy presence,
all anonymous to the end.

The Response:

Yet, what do names matter?
One chooses and is chosen
by one's divine,
the passion which overtakes
us in the night:
to be carried on
the swift currents of love
to where lover and beloved are one,
that is the key,
the secret path
to the heaven within.


Dorothy Walters,
January 1-2, 2007