Kundalini Splendor

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Friday, November 30, 2007

The Holy Longing (poem) 


The Holy Longing

Tell a wise person, or else keep silent,
because the massman will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.

In the calm water of the love-nights,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you
when you see the silent candle burning.

Now you are no longer caught
in the obsession with darkness,
and a desire for higher love-making
sweeps you upward.

Distance does not make you falter,
now, arriving in magic, flying,
and, finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.

And so long as you haven't experienced
this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled guest
on the dark earth.

Goethe (tr. Robert Bly)

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Dark Night of the Soul 

Many of my friends (and doubtless others as well) are currently reporting intense bouts of depression, pain, grief, disturbing dreams, and the like. Given the current state of the world (especially for those of us living at present in this country), such disturbance of the psyche is clearly understandable. Anyone who reads the news will know that things are not good, here or elsewhere.

The various symptoms being reported also remind me of Evelyn Underhill's description of the "dark night of the soul." The dark night comes, according to her, not before awakening, but after illumination. It is then that the soul experiences the sense that God has turned "his" face away, that the joy and exaltation of the earlier stages of the journey have fled, leaving the subject in despair and darkness. What have I done to causes this? he or she may ask. Why has the sense of divine connection left me?

Evelyn Underhill, herself a mystic, is recognized as one of the great writers on the subject of the inner journey. Her classic work is called "Mysticism," and it details in comprehensive fashion the various stages the soul must pass through before it reaches its goal of final union. She is writing about the Western mystical path, but the description applies equally to any deep spiritual transformation, be it East or West, and hence includes the profound transformation brought on by kundalini awakening.

The following excerpt is taken from Wikipedia, and seems to me to be true to her original writings on the subject.

Finally, one wonders whether or not the earth itself is now undergoing such purgation, to prepare it for planetary initiation.

Author and mystic Evelyn Underhill recognizes two additional phases to the mystical path. First comes the awakening, the stage in which one begins to have some consciousness of absolute or divine reality. Purgation and illumination are followed by a fourth stage which Underhill, borrowing the language of St. John of the Cross, calls the dark night of the soul. This stage, experienced by the few, is one of final and complete purification and is marked by confusion, helplessness, stagnation of the will, and a sense of the withdrawal of God's presence. It is the period of final "unselfing" and the surrender to the hidden purposes of the divine will. Her fifth and final stage is union with the object of love, the one Reality, God. Here the self has been permanently established on a transcendental level and liberated for a new purpose.[4]

Monday, November 26, 2007

Going (poem) 


Pass from this world lightly,
air returning to air.

Ascend gently,
as if you were a bit of mist
returning to the cloud.

Let your spirit wash softly
outward to where the sea
becomes sky.

Let nothing remain.
Leave behind only
those things
you brought with you
when you came.

Dorothy Walters
November 26, 2007

Sunday, November 25, 2007

O My Lord 

O My Lord, Your dwelling places are lovely

By Judah Halevi
(1075? - 1141)

English version by Solomon Solis-Cohen

O My Lord, Your dwelling places are lovely
Your Presence is manifest, not in mystery.
My dream brought me to the Temple of God
And I praised its delightful servants,
And the burnt offering, its meal and libation
Which rose up in great pillars of smoke.
I delighted in the song of the Levites,
In their secrets of the sacrificial service.
Then I woke, and still I was with you, O Lord,
And I gave thanks -- for to You it is pleasant to give thanks!

-- from A Treasury of Jewish Poetry: From Biblical Times to the Present, Edited by Nathan Ausubel / Edited by Marynn Ausubel

(and from Poetry Chaikhana)

Friday, November 23, 2007

Chakras and Enlightenment 

Nepalese painting, 18th century.
Image from Ballabene's Paranormal Pages

The above image as well as the following article are taken from:


Keep in mind that there is a vast library on chakras, written by many masters over several centuries. Often you will find contradictory information and sometimes confusing description. In general, there is agreement that there are chakras ("wheels") in the body located at the site of various nerve plexuses. Some contend that these sites are imaginary,simply metaphors for various human attributes. I know that they are real, for I have felt blissful energies in each of them at one time or another.

Some teachers insist that the purpose of the rising kundalini is to clear the blocks in the chakras in order that they may open and the energies rise to the crown, where enlightenment is attained as "ten thousand petals unfold." Others say that the rising kundalini simply "dissolves" the chakras, so when all are dissolved, enlightenment occurs. (In fact, some "energy healers" seek to dissolve the chakras and thus speed the client's progress to enlightenment, a process which I confess seems to me to confuse result with the cause.)

In my own very long process of unfolding kundalini (now in its twenty-sixth year), I have in fact found that at this stage I seldom feel energy in the chakras per se. Rather, I feel a kind of distributed energy flowing in various places, often in hands and arms and chest. Have my chakras "dissolved"? I have no idea.

Everyone's prcess follows a different pattern. The energies seem to have a consciousness of their own, and lead you where it is best for you to go.

Kheper's site is quite interesting and contains a wealth or information. Here, as always, we should read with a critical mind, and not accept any statement as true just because someone has said it.

Here is Kheper's article:

The Shakta Theory of Chakras

Developed Shakta doctrine postulates seven chakras (see image). These are called the Muladhara or "Root Support" at the base of the spine with four "petals", the Swadhishthana or "Own Abode" at the root of the genitals with six, the Manipura or "Fullness of Jewels" at the level of the navel with ten "petals", the Anahata or "Unstruck Melody" at the heart-centre with twelve, the Vishuddha or "Complete Purity" at the throat with sixteen, and finally the Ajna or "Guru's Command" at the brow with two "petals". The Crown centre, the Sahasrara=Padma or "Thousand Petalled-Lotus", located at the very top of the head, is technically speaking not a chakra at all, but the summation of all the chakras.

The chakras are strung along the central or Sushumna channel (usually located at the spine). In the lowest chakra, the Muladhara, at the base of the spine, there lies the kundalini-shakti, the latent consciousness-energy, the microcosm of the cosmic creative shakti. When this is aroused, it can be made to ascend the sushumna, either activating or dissolving (depending on the yogic tradition) each chakra in turn, until it reaches the highest or crown chakra, the Sahasrara, where dwells the Godhead or Supreme Shiva (Paramashiva). As the Kundalini-Shakti unites with Paramashiva, the original transcendent equilibrium is restored, and the yogi returns to the state of oneness with the Absolute.

The chakras are described as stations or centres of pure consciousness (chaitanya) and consciousness-power. They are focal points of meditation; iconographic structures within the occult or "subtle body". Apart from the Sahasrara, each chakra is described by means of a whole lot of symbolic associations or correspondences. Building upon the initial later Upanishads speculation, each chakra, as well as having a specific position in the physical body, element, mantra, and deity, also has a particular number of "petals", each associated with one of the letters of the Sanskrit alphabet, a corresponding colour, shape, animal, plane of existence, sense-organ, mantric sound, and so on.

As is usually the case with intellectual esoteric systems, a lot of these correspondences are arbitrary, for example, smell and feet with Muladhara, taste and hand with Swadhishthana, sight and anus with Manipura, etc. These associations are all based on the Samkhyan sequence of tattwas and their attributes.

In addition to the seven major chakras arranged along the spine there are also chakras in the hands, feet, genitals, and so on. Also in addition to the seven major chakras, there are also a number of other chakras along the spine which are sometimes referred to. In his exhaustively detailed and definitive work on the chakras according to the traditional Indian understanding, Layayoga - an Advanced Method of Concentration, Shyam Sundar Goswami, citing numerous references, describes thirteen chakras altogether;(in addition to) the seven standard chakras there are six minor ones.

Reference is also made in all Tantric texts to the nadis or channels of vital)force (prana). According to the traditional Tantric teachings, the seven chakras are strung like pearls or jewels along the brilliant thin thread of the sushumna nadi, which is the primary nadi in the body. On either side of the sushumna are the two main secondary nadis: the white moon-like ida on the left, containing descending vitality (apana), and the red sun-like pingala on the right, containing ascending vitality (prana in the narrow sense of the term). The tantric yogi aims to direct the subtle airs from these two primary side channels into the central sushumna nadi, and so activate the latent Kundalini energy. This then ascends through each of the chakras in turn, and when it reaches the top of the head, the yogi attains Liberation

The understanding of the chakras and kundalini in the West derives largely from Sir John Woodroffe's The Serpent Power, a very technical work, first published in 1919 under the psuedonym Arthur Avalon. The first (and still one of of the only) serious books on the chakras and Kundalini yoga to be published in the West, it is actually a translation of two sixteenth century Bengali texts and their commentaries, together with Woodroffe's commentary.

In his own long and detailed introduction. Woodroffe's book - his own chapters cover Shakta metaphysics and cosmology, Patanjali Yoga, and Tantric practice, as well as the chakras themselves - is unfortunately very difficult for the beginner, but it served as the inspiration and chief reference text (usually without acknowledgment) for many Western occult-esoteric writers

Most Indian gurus incorporate the idea of chakras into their teachings; as part of a watered-down or westernised form of tantra.


Although the more widespread opinion places the Sahasrara chakra at the very top of the head, Goswami argues instead that this chakra (and another one below it called the Guru chakra) is actually located above the head, and the top-of-the-head position is taken instead by another chakra called the Nirvana chakra, with one hundred petals. Sri Aurobindo, although only referring to the standard seven chakras, likewise locates the Sahasrara above the head.

P. S. And, to add to the debate, the certain Tibetan Buddhist texts refer to five, rather than the usual seven, chakras.

Personally, I think this whole subject (like kundalini itself) deserves much more study. The bottom line is : When we feel bliss in the body, it is bliss and it is real, no matter what the theories may say.

After Death, Like Flows to Like 

After Death, Like Flows to Like

(for Denise Levertov)

I often think of them
streaming together
to form one being,
those who kept stroking
reality alive with language,
who did not separate
word from thing.

Carolan with his harp,
stricken Dante, flaming rose,
Li-Po and his jug,
unsteady moon lifting
through shadow,
everywhere a constant singing,
a music beyond our hearing.

Once we called them muses.
Sometimes we catch glimpses of them
in blossoming summer skies,
or say their names
when we begin.

from Marrow of Flame

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Wishing all a happy holiday! (I have been putting together what I hope will be the final revision of a new poetry book--I'll have more to post on the blog once that is finished--soon, I hope!)

Life As It May Be

You do this, you do that
You argue left, you argue right
You come down, you go up
This person says no, you say yes
Back and forth
You are happy
You are really happy

- Ikkyu

And here is a quote especially for the "elders" of this day:

"To me, old age is always fifteen years older than I am."
- Bernard Baruch (1870- 1965)

Thursday, November 15, 2007

This Womb (poem) 

This Womb

Even as darkness
comes seeping in,
there is a voice
which keeps us alive,
which says,
as long as there is light
by day,
music drifting through
the branches at night,
you must sing,
you are the womb
of new creation,
your song the heartbeat
of the world.

Dorothy Walters
November 11, 2007

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The leaves which spilled their gold 

Once, when I was more into a more "oracular" mode, a voice within said, "The purpose of poetry is to beget other poetry." I have long believed this to be true, and often reading a poem will inspire me to write a poem on a similar topic, though not the same.

This morning I read a wonderful poem by Mary Oliver, and immediately wrote my own poem which follows below.

The leaves which spilled their gold

What I want mostly
is just to be here
before this tree
with no name,
what does it matter
what species
the flower is,
who cares where
the tall grasses come from
the leaves which
spilled their gold
like a libation
down the mountain side
here in this silence
I claim you,
I am yours.

Dorothy Walters
November 14, 2004

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Two Poems to the Beloved 

You have forgotten everything.

When the secret of secrets
how can you find words?

You have forgotten
except the shape
of the beloved’s
the touch of the
beloved’s kiss.

Dorothy Walters
November 12, 2007

Who Can Say?

There is a turning inward.

Who can say,
the rapture of the

What was once your beloved,
there, waiting for you,
so slender and pale,
now has no form
or name,
is only “the one,”
your secret of secrets.

Dorothy Walters
November 9, 2007

Monday, November 12, 2007

Novalis (poem) 

(picture from source)

NOTE: This poem by Novalis appeared on Ivan Granger's poetry chaikhana site this morning. Ivan's notes tell us that Novalis was the son of German aristocrats. He himself was a mystic, and often wrote of nature, love, and spiritual yearnings. He fell in love, but his sweetheart died soon thereafter, and he himself died of tuberculosis at the age of twenty-nine.

Novalis is considered an important forerunner of the entire Romanic Movement in literature and art. Today, romantics are more or less out of fashion in the higher circles of literary criticism. But the tradition remains strong among those who still seek connection with transcendence through poetry and art (think Rumi, Mary Oliver, Denise Levertov, Robert Bly and many others.) Try as they will, these condescending critics are unable to stifle the human urge toward meaningful connection with the sacred and all that that implies.

Novalis' poem inspired me to write a response.

When Geometric Diagrams...

By Novalis
(1772 - 1801)

(English version by Robert Bly)

When geometric diagrams and digits
Are no longer the keys to living things,
When people who go about singing or kissing
Know deeper things than the great scholars,
When society is returned once more
To unimprisoned life, and to the universe,
And when light and darkness mate
Once more and make something entirely transparent,
And people see in poems and fairy tales
The true history of the world,
Then our entire twisted nature will turn
And run when a single secret word is spoken.


He was a young man,
not yet thirty when he died.

What he sought
was the very thing
we still yearn for—
a world not circumscribed
by measurements and
a reality emerging
from transcendence,
like birdsong
which drifts through
not asking
particulars of fixed
not concerned
with who might hear.

Dorothy Walters
November 12, 2007

Sunday, November 11, 2007

The Awakening (poem) 

(above photo by N. M. Rai)

The Awakening

After the angel came,
she more and more discovered
she had strange powers.

Things began to look different,
change appearance,
as when the cat
seemed cradled
in a brilliant colored egg
and its energies
flew upward
from its head.

Sometimes she felt waves
of sensuous feeling
flow through her body,
what they call ecstasy
when it happens
to a saint.

Other times
she wept
for no reason.

When she wanted to turn on
the t. v. or
make the screen brighter
or more dull,
she simply pointed her finger
in that direction.

One morning
all the clocks in the house
stopped together
for no known reason.

If she wanted to summon
her husband from the field
to have sex,
she sent him a mental message
and he would appear.

Once she saw a ray extend
from her hand to the wall
and bounce back again.

Once she saw the map of
the universe
on her husband’s body
as he lay sleeping
beside her in bed.

Dorothy Walters
November 11, 2007

Saturday, November 10, 2007

The Dilemma of Age 

The following is from a description in the New York Times of Norman Mailer, the notorious American writer, who has just died:

Increasingly, he said, he was engaged in “less of an exploration and more of an occupation of territories I reconnoitered years ago.”

“What happens is you become the hat on your own head,” he said. “You’re not having the pleasure of enjoying your own mind the way you used to when you were young, but you have the product of your mind to work with. You know, I ran into Henry Kissinger years ago, and I asked him if he enjoyed the intellectual stimulation of the work, and he said in effect: ‘I am working with the ideas that I formed at Harvard years ago. I haven’t had a real idea since I’ve been on this; I just work with the old ideas.’ I certainly know what he means now — I think there are just so many ideas you can have in your life, and once you have them, you have to develop them.”

Norman Mailer was, among other things, an arch opponent of women's liberation (as the movement was then known) and to many represented the "mail chauvinist" in its worst embodiment. In his writing, he was the antithesis of the romantic or mystical approach (except for certain bizarre topics he embraced, such as power, violence, death). I agreed with almost nothing he said or stood for, except for the idea embodied in the above quote. I understand fully what he meant here.

In terms of the spiritual path, there are indeed certain fundamental "wisdoms" to be encountered and assimilated before real progress can occur. Aldous Huxley summed up many of these in his fundamental work "The Perennial Wisdom." These are the basic premises found in virtually all religions and creeds: there is a divine power; humanity has a necessary connection with it; a moral foundation is the basis of all good action; concern for one's fellows is paramount. The list goes on.

All of these ideas are good and right. However, once one has fully explored them and integrated them into one's one intellectual structure, one can fall into the habit of simply repeating them without thought, more like mechanical exercises than living truth. One looks about for new perspectives, fresh approaches--and for the most part finds duplication of the once fresh discoveries. The beginner is excited by these (to him or her) novel notions. Often this novice will go about proclaiming his/her new discoveries to the world, as if he were the first to uncover them. It is as this point that the elder has to hold a straight face and withhold judgment. This newcomer may in fact find great revelations in some emergent (or established)spiritual teacher's offerings, which, when examined, are in fact, old truths repackaged.

None of this is wrong. We all must step into the river somewhere. We must master the fundamentals before we can hope to move on to the advanced stages.

But--after we have followed our minds to the limit of (our) thought, something more is requisite to carry us to the next plane. For me, this is where kundalini comes in. It is experiential rather than mental. It requires no external validation, for it is a "self-validating experience." It changes everything on every level of our lives. It rips the veils from our eyes, and we see with renewed vision.

And this is when we can revisit old intellectual terrain, reexamine earlier ideas and explore them with a clearer perspective. A new layer has been added to our psychic scaffolding. We are the same but different. Our world is more complex and simpler at the same time. We are more fully in touch with who we are.

Friday, November 09, 2007

More on Auras 

(The man in the above photo is a Vedic astrologer (from India) whom I met in Boulder. Behind him is the image of Buddha, who (like Christ and other holy figures East and West) is traditionally depicted surrounded by a large halo or full body aura of radiance.)

When I attended the symphony concert in Detroit, I saw lights around various performers and also above the heads of the audience. The latter were glowing blue horizontal discs located just above the crown of each listener. On stage, I saw lights flickering around the various performers and--even more interesting--blue light ascending up the spine of the conductor right from his base or root chakra. (He was very animated.)

Once again, I wonder what these "lights" or auras are, and how they originate. I always seem to see some shade of blue or purple (or a mixture of the two). I have mentioned before seeing such purple light flash across the entire stage when Alice Walker was speaking and again a kind of brilliant purplish pink when the author Isabel Allende was giving a talk in San Francisco. And, I think once more of the time I saw purplish light extend from the diaphram of a solo singer in concert, then subside when she sat down.

Sometimes these lights appear when someone is describing a crisis moment in their lives, as when one woman was describing her experience of being held up and then shot in a city street. Sometimes I see such lights when poets are reading their poems in public with intense concentration.

So--I am left to wonder--what were the glowing purple discs above the heads of the concert audience? Perhaps their energies were dramatically awakened by the dynamic piece being played by the orchestra. Perhaps the energies of those I observe are neutral (clear) as to color and I view them through a purple screen (my own aura?) so that what I see is bright or dull, pink or dark purple according to the energies of the subject.

In search of some answers, I looked up entries on "aura" and "nimbus" in Wikipedia, and found some interesting information.

Though we often think of the halo as associated with Christian or Eastern holy figures, the presence of the halo or nimbus is documented even as far back as Homer, appearing on heroes and demons as well as gods and goddesses.

nimbus, glory or gloriole (light around the whole body)

Homer describes a more-than-natural light around the heads of heroes in battle, and in Aristophanes's (satiric comedy) "Birds" the founder of Cloud-Cuckoo-Land is extravagantly said to outshine stars and sun. Depictions of Perseus in the act of slaying Medusa, with lines radiating from his head, appear on a white-ground toiletry box in the Louvre and on a slightly later red-figured vase in the style of Polygnotos, ca. 450-30 BC, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. On painted wares from south Italy radiant lines or simple haloes appear on a range of mythic figures: Lyssa, a personification of madness; a sphinx, a sea demon, and Thetis, the sea-nymph who was mother to Achilles.

Sometimes the image depicts a whole body radiance, the full aura as we might term it:

The whole-body image of radiance is sometimes called the 'aureole' or glory; it is shown radiating from all round the body, most often of Christ or Mary. Where gold is used as a background in miniatures, mosaics and panel paintings, the halo is just lines inscribed in the gold, often decorated in patterns within the outer radius, and becomes much less prominent. When gold is not being used, Byzantine haloes are usually just a circular line, sometimes dotted. Christ's halo is often inscribed with text or letters.

The writer, a modern skeptic, dismisses the possibility that such aureoles or haloes could be real, an actual phenomenon seen by the observer:

In popular piety, this practice has led to the literal belief that saints have visible halos around their heads, rather than it be understood as a metaphorical representation. Some faithful believe the halo to be equivalent to the Eastern religion aura, and as with the latter, believe that halos are visible to those with perception. Of the many stories about saints, some reports claimed that a saint was literally glowing.

I strongly suspect that the "saint" was indeed glowing, and that someone with "perception" could see the glow--hence the depiction in art. And, of additional interest, we find that the halo or total bodily radiance was not limited to saints and heroes. The fact that these phenomena are associated with "demons" as well as saints, mythological animals as well as humans, suggests that such effects manifest when the subject is someone of great energetic power, for good or evil, and that ordinary humans can also display such visible energies in special circumstances.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

The Guides 

The Guides

Whoever you were,
you companioned me
from early on,
your words falling
into my ears
like drops of sweet oil
to sooth a child's complaint

Always you took me
led me to wisdom books
where each page became
an open passage
through unexplored
revelations lurked
like exotic species,
strange animals peering
from tropical darkness.

Now your whispered truths
have merged into my cells,
become how I see the
things around me. . . .
the bent tree bowing to heaven,
the bee hovering,
ready to make love to
its waiting paramour,
the scarlet bird caught against
the anguish
of the whitening sky.

And always,
the indefinable bliss
when you appear.

Dorothy Walters
November 6, 2007

Monday, November 05, 2007

The Face of Yehudi Amachi 

(image from source)

The Face of Yehudi Amachi (poem)

(The ecstasy of Kundalini, though it seems to occur in a timeless realm, is nonetheless connected to the world of time and human events, many of which reflect sadness rather than joy. It is, I think, important to acknowledge the "shadow" and to maintain awareness of the dual nature of the reality in which we live, rejecting neither side of the equation.

Yehudi Amachai was one of the major poets of the last century. A Jew born in Germany, his life was touched by many of the significant historical events of that era, and his writing is often imbued with a sense of sorrow at what he witnessed during those chaotic times. I think it is important to recognize the work of such poets, who offer "time filtered through a sensibility," even though we may not always agree with them in their personal viewpoints.

Further, many think that Kundalini itself can be a prime source of creative energy. Hence it behooves us to pay homage to the many artists among us.)

The Face of Yehudi Amachi

His was the open eye
that recorded the storm,
counted the victims.

Saw what happened
when the soldiers
entered the city
and the houses fell.

Nothing is beyond him.
Not rage,
not terror,
not the cry
of the woman
being raped in the night,
the moans
of the six million.

He has lived many years.

Now he knows

Now he is
telling his grief,
his abiding sorrow,
is his own “sad good man.”

Dorothy Walters
August, 2007

Sunday, November 04, 2007

You went before me (poem) 

You went before me

(inspired by Adam Zagajewski)

You went before me.
I keep running over your
faces, like a private showing
of a film, an exhibit of old photos
in a small gallery.
I wasn't ready.

See, I have this new poem
of Rilke which I just
I wanted to show it to you,
tell you what it meant to me,
get your impressions.

You taught me so much.
Gave so much of your beauty.
How can I bear it,
you were that slender boy
standing at the street corner
near campus
waiting to cross
(a man, actually)
in your striking green suede jacket,
your flaming hair,
image permanently etched
on my mind.

And you--the one I
happened to catch sight of
that day as you were
teaching your class--
when I saw you there
so utterly in command
(you could have inspired throngs)
I caught my breath,
felt myself shoved backward
as if from a blow.
I knew you were someone to be reckoned with,
a poet, a presence,
a being destined for higher things
like a female Yeats (your passion)
or Maude Gonne (his)--
your voice still whispers in my ear
almost like a seduction.

How could you and the others
go so soon,
leave me here to contemplate
how it is
to walk through the streets
of this strange city
and not see anyone
you know,
to sit alone in the corner
of the cafe
over your opened book.

The night here
has a voice of its own,
the days grow long
even as the sun pales
and the mist deepens..

Dorothy Walters
November 4, 2007

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Small Monk Haikus (poems) 

Small Monk Haikus

I am a small monk
bowing before
a large being.
And yet, something
streams through. . . .

The mountain stream
tumbles over
the gleaming rocks.
Who has made
such brightness? . . .

Brightness is the key.
Who holds brightness
in his hand
finds the treasure. . . .

The treasure is not
where you might believe.
The treasure is under
your feet,
just where you are now. . . .

Now is the time
to think about all things
Time does not last.
Thoughts perish.
Only longing
survives. . . .

Dorothy Walters
November 3, 2007

Thursday, November 01, 2007

More Animals from the Detroit Zoo 

Here are several more animals (plus a tree) from the Detroit Zoo. Kundalini is not confined to the human realm. It flows through all creation.

Kundalini also sometimes endows us with special abilities. During a recent workshop, I "saw faces" on the workshop leader. I saw her face change three times into that of someone else. Each time she was male, middle Eastern, bearded--and from some earlier era. I recognized each visage as that of a respected and highly developed spiritual teacher. And once I saw her change into a female, also middle Eastern, also a high spiritual teacher.

Later I checked with the workshop leader, and she said, yes, that felt right.

Although such experiences are not the goal of spiritual awakening, it is always fascinating when they occur.

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