Wednesday, September 08, 2010
(Image from Wikipedia)
Surprise Blissout and a Taste of Zen
This is another description of a surprise visit from the Beloved. If you have already read sufficient descriptions of my experiences with such bliss, then you may wish to skip this part of today’s entry. (I like to keep a record of such sessions--for some reason I find it useful, perhaps the way a sea captain might keep a log of the day’s weather on the voyage just to record conditions for future reference, but also because I think we are all trying to unravel the mystery of Kundalini, and thus we strive to capture its many nuances in words, however futile that attempt may be.)
It was already two o’clock on Saturday, and I still had not eaten. I was in my kitchen browsing through some sample menus from nearby restaurants, when here it came--the familiar sweet stirring of energies within--as so often, the bliss flows came initially in the hands and arms, and, more delicately, through the torso. I did move my hands some, but don’t remember how.
Then slowly, slowly, so as not to lose focus, I made my way into the living room, where there was more space to do stretching and movement . I tried the new position my friend had taught me the other day--consisting of simply holding out the arms outward (horizontal) from the shoulders, bringing the latter down, fingers also stretching outward. And--the bliss then moved upward to my neck, upper back, cheeks and even ears--just the flow I had been seeking, for I have constant upper back difficulties, and need to get the chi going there.
And so it did--chi bliss in all those places where I have felt almost nothing for a very long time.
I call this chi bliss, as opposed to Kundalini bliss (which is often more pronounced.) Whatever it is, it feels superb!
A Zen Monk
The previous night I had attended a presentation which included a Zen monk who gave us instruction in Zen meditation. He stressed the need to attain a “one pointed focus” in order to reach the desired goal of--”objectless awareness”--to do this, one must sit perfectly still and, with eyes open, focus on some particular thing or object for a rather extended period of time. He explained that we might not have immediate results, and added that he himself had spent seven years looking at a wall in order to attain this state.
He was quite delightful, and extremely devoted to his practice and was sincere in his efforts as a teacher to impart such knowledge to others.
But personally, I would much prefer to spend seven (or thirty, as it now is) years standing (or sitting) in my living room feeling the glorious embrace of the “Beloved Within.” Indeed, nothing focuses your attention like bliss. Following it is not a chore or obligation, but a delight that we treasure like a sacred jewel, a secret shared. (Of course, my journey was not one of unbroken delight--I spent many years of “ups and downs,” balancing as best I could the inner energies, trying to untie the “knots” within, years of accumulated emotional and psychological issues that came forward and intermingled with times of ecstasy and produced an array of physical and mental symptoms as I moved forward.)
If I could, I would give the gift of embodied bliss to others--but I have no idea how to do this, other than to encourage each one to follow their own path, open to their own inner joy, and seek always to remember that the Beloved is ever there, just waiting to be welcomed into your heart.
Perhaps what I felt today came in part from being in the presence of the monk and others in this group of spiritual seekers--perhaps there is a transmission of sacred energy even when it is not felt at the time, but “kicks in” later.
The Zen approach, with its emphasis on mental facility and extreme discipline, seems to me to reflect masculinity, in its desire to control and direct the inner process. Indeed, there are many rules and protocols to follow in its practice (including the famous Zen stick of earlier times, to keep nodding pupils alert).
Kundalini--as I know it--seems much more a “female” approach, for it is based on acute receptivity, a willingness to follow the energies rather than to direct them. Spontaneity is a key factor here. There really is no rule book or accepted protocol. There are a “thousand ways to approach the throne”--and I myself much prefer bliss rather than strict disciplinary practices as a way into the mystery.
“Be a light unto yourself.”
(September 4, 2004; Dorothy Walters)
P. S. Honesty compels me to add that later--after my encounter with bliss-- I returned to the computer, and after an hour or so the upper back pain returned. Oh, well.