Friday, December 30, 2011
The Lens You See Through
The Lens You See Through
On the one hand, there are the holocaust and the tragedy of 9/11, and many other such horrific examples of human actions gone awry.
On the other, there are the countless and continuing acts of generosity and compassion by persons and nations and—above all—the awakening of Kundalini energies for many across the planet.
I think of it as a kind of spectrum, or perhaps a see-saw, with negative forces on one end balanced by positive on the other. Many choose only to see one or the other end of the scale, filtering out the opposite. Some choose only to admit the reality of the dark vision—they are often among the most highly educated and intellectually gifted among us. Like Flannery O’Connor’s character in one of her stories, they have “seen through to where nothing is,” and will admit no evidence to the contrary.
Others insist that the shadow is a fiction, and that only the sunny side of the street is real.
To me, both perspectives contain a certain amount of truth. Kundalini bliss leads one to acknowledge that there is more to our human experience than grief and suffering, although certainly these exist. The shadow enters into individual and societal experience, but so does the light, the revelation of ultimate connection with that which is greater than ourselves.
Fortunately, Kundalini awakening does not depend on arguments or conceptual approaches. It is a gut felt, visceral experience that convinces by its bodily/spiritual authority. One cannot deny its power and its presence. One recognizes it as one’s own ultimate destiny, one’s source and end.
I think that the best course is not to deny either pole of experience, to acknowledge the shadow but live in the light. This is the wisdom contained in the ancient Taoist emblem of the yin/yang, opposites eternally balanced, each containing the seed of the other.