Kundalini Yoga -- as Envisioned by the Ancient Yogis

An amazing energy, known as

kundalini

, is said to lie coiled at the base of the spine, dormant, like a sleeping snake. This snake energy can be awakened from its slumber by practicing certain

yoga

postures, breathing exercises and mantras. Awakened by these practices,

kundalini

surges upward through an invisible network of nerves and pierces six lotus-shaped chakras, releasing waves of ecstasy. When he reaches a magnificent thousand-petalled lotus at the crown of his head, kundalini is said to merge into pure consciousness and grant enlightenment to the practitioner. What is this extraordinary yogic practice and its so-called snake energy? And where did these esoteric teachings come from?

My name is Swami Tadatmananda. Beginning in 1981, I studied with a traditional Indian guru, Swami Dayananda, who ordained me as a Hindu monk. I would like to invite you to join me in this unique exploration of kundalini

yoga

. We will search for the roots of this tradition and explore the complexities of its practice. We will examine certain controversies and misconceptions. And I will share my own personal experience of practicing kundalini yoga. For almost 30 years, I have taught the deep spiritual truths of Advaita Vedanta, the intricacies of the Sanskrit language, and meditation. Because meditation helped me so much, I developed a great love for guiding others to discover its benefits.

Over the years, I have learned that no meditation technique is equally effective for all meditators. Each person is unique. For this reason, I teach a wide variety of meditation techniques. But somehow, I never taught kundalini yoga. Because? There are two main reasons. First, my guru strongly warned us about a problem he called "experience seeking." He said that conventional life is driven by the endless search for new and better experiences. People love to watch new movies, dine at trendy restaurants, and travel to exotic places. But experiences like these can never lead to perfect peace and contentment. As a young man, Swami Dayananda observed the problem of experience seeking when he lived in Rishikesh, a sacred city in the foothills of the Himalayas.

In the 1960s, he was sought out by American and European hippies, who had indulged in sex, drugs and rock and roll, and now wanted to experience meditation. But, if meditation is just another experience to enjoy, then it's not that different from sex, drugs, or anything else. In this way, some kundalini yoga practitioners might simply be seeking exciting new experiences, rather than seeking spiritual growth. It's easy to fall into the trap of experience-seeking, especially when this yogic practice seems to promise happiness and ecstasy. The other reason I have avoided teaching kundalini yoga is that I am completely discouraged by the way contemporary Western

yogis

have distorted and misrepresented it.

I'm tired of seeing chakras and bodies dazzling with rainbow hues that emit light sources from every pore. Images like these portray a practice that has virtually nothing in common with its

ancient

origins. However, people seem attracted to dazzling illustrations and modern new age beliefs. On the other hand, kundalini yoga is an authentic spiritual tradition whose roots go back at least two thousand years. In

ancient

India, holy sages, known as rishis, sought enlightenment by exploring the interior of their bodies and minds to discover the supreme divinity hidden deep within. Their remarkable ideas and the special techniques they devised were recorded in Sanskrit scriptures called Upanishads.

A total of 108 Upanishads are included in the Vedas, the primary scriptures of all Hindu religious and spiritual practices. Twenty of these upanishads are dedicated to the theory and practice of kundalini yoga. Those yoga upanishads are the fundamental source of the entire body of teachings on kundalini yoga. The separate tradition of Advaita Vedanta, which I follow, is based on twelve other upanishads, which focus on gaining spiritual knowledge rather than yogic practice. The 108 upanishads contain the sacred revelations of the rishis, so it seems hypocritical to me to study only the twelve Vedantic upanishads and ignore the twenty yoga upanishads, as I have done for decades.

I had to admit the narrowness of my studies, and this led me to begin a research project, a project that evolved into the film you are watching now. This project has two parts. First, thoroughly explore the teachings of kundalini yoga, drawing exclusively on the 20 yoga upanishads and studying them in the original Sanskrit, along with their Sanskrit commentaries. By leaving aside all the yogic teachings that evolved later, I can focus on what the rishis themselves taught. The second part of the project is to personally undertake the practice of kundalini yoga, as conceived by the rishis. When I started this venture I asked myself, what will I discover?

Will I hear heavenly sounds and see inner visions like some practitioners? More importantly, I wondered if my research would confirm or contradict the teachings of Advaita Vedanta that I have followed for so long. Right now, I don't know what the outcome of this experiment will be, but that's the idea of ​​an experiment, right? This is the book I have been studying in preparation for this project. Contains the 20 yoga upanishads and their commentaries. It will serve as a travel guide for the path we are about to explore. I haven't started my formal kundalini yoga practice yet, but when I do, I will share those experiences with you.

Kundalini yoga became widely known in the West largely as a result of a 1967 book in which Gopi Krishna described his amazing experiences with kundalini. Gopi Krishna was a government employee from northern India whose intense meditation had awakened his dormant kundalini with surprising and sometimes heartbreaking results. His book reached the shores of America just at the time when hippies had become very interested in both Hindu mysticism and the psychedelic experiences derived from hallucinogenic drugs such as LSD. Gopi Krishna's hallucinatory encounters with kundalini seemed to resemble the LSD experiences of hippies, and this perhaps attracted them to kundalini yoga.

As a rebellious teenager, I also experimented with LSD back then, but I didn't read Gopi Krishna's book until years later. When spiritual teachings leave their homelands and are retold in different cultures and in different languages, they are subject to being revised or altered in various ways. Some changes are necessary, such as the translation of Sanskrit scriptures into English. But other changes can confuse or distort the meaning of the original texts. And, all too often, spiritual teachings become completely corrupted when they are misinterpreted by people whose perspectives are completely foreign to the original ones. For example, a famous book on the seven chakras written by C.W.

Leadbeater was full of Western occultism and doctrines of the Theosophical Society of which Leadbeater was a member. Carl Jung, the famous psychoanalyst, gave a seminar on kundalini yoga as a method of individuation, which is a special therapeutic process that he devised. More recently, Yogi Bhajan brought his highly personalized version of kundalini yoga from India to the United States, replacing his traditional Sanskrit mantras with others from his own Sikh religion. Swami Muktananda also introduced kundalini yoga to Westerners, teaching a widely adapted version of the Kashmiri Shaiva tradition to which he belonged. Now, I do not want to say that all these derived teachings are useless.

Many spiritual seekers have benefited from them. I myself meditated with disciples of Swami Muktananda when he was young. But these modern derivatives are not at all aligned with what the ancient rishis taught, and as a result, something of great value has been lost. As kundalini yoga became increasingly integrated into Western culture, it began to lose its original identity and was eventually completely reshaped through the process of cultural appropriation. When a famous model wears a Native American war bonnet, or when a popular singer wears bindis, which are sacred to Hindus, these cultural forms are appropriated and adapted, without due respect for their time-honored traditions.

The original meanings of these cultural forms are stripped away and replaced by current fashions. Kundalini yoga has also been a victim of cultural appropriation. Westernized versions of the chakras present them in rainbow hues rather than their traditional colors, and associate them with emotions, something the rishis never intended. Chakras even blend into other cultures, like this Greek symbol and this ancient Egyptian figure. The New Age movement has commodified chakras, using them to advertise crystals, colorful stones, scented oils, and self-improvement seminars. On a more serious note, a very harmful adaptation of kundalini yoga has emerged due to the experience-seeking problem we discussed earlier.

There is an interesting story about this. Years ago, my guru asked me to take him to an ashram in upstate New York to meet an elderly swami who taught kundalini yoga. We were invited to a large room where the guru and his students sat to meditate. After several minutes of perfect silence, one of the meditators suddenly screamed and his body shook violently. Swami Dayananda was so surprised that he almost fell off his chair. Over the next half hour, several other meditators had similar reactions. After our visit, I asked Swami Dayananda about this. He said these students were taught that whenever a chakra is pierced, kundalini will produce vocalizations and spontaneous body movements.

This is not taught in the yoga upanishads. But when students are led to believe that occasional screaming and shaking are sure signs of progress, a suggestion is planted in their minds that can trigger subsequent reactions. Psychologists say suggestions like these work the same way placebos do. A patient's trust in a doctor allows a placebo to actually produce desirable effects. Similarly, the student's trust in a guru allows meditation to produce reactions like those we observed. Swami Dayananda was highly critical of the way kundalini yoga is normally taught and placed the blame on the problem of experience seeking.

He said that many modern gurus put too much emphasis on acquiring spiritual experiences and not enough on acquiring spiritual wisdom. All experiences are temporary, including Kundalini experiences. After a powerful spiritual experience comes and goes, you may remain unchanged unless you really learn something from that experience. That's exactly what happened to me when I experimented with LSD as a reckless teenager. I had transcendent experiences and a sense of complete oneness with the cosmos. But after the drug wore off, I found myself no wiser than before. I couldn't learn anything from those experiences. For this reason, the ultimate goal of spiritual practice is not to produce short-lived experiences, but rather to reveal the true divine nature of consciousness within us.

According to the ancient rishis, our true nature is divine: it is eternal, limitless and untouched by worldly afflictions. If so, why are we still subject to suffering? The problem is that the inner divinity is covered by a veil of ignorance that obscures it and prevents us from recognizing its nature. The goal of spiritual practice, then, is to eliminate that ignorance and discover the innate and ever-present divinity within us. Look at this passage from the Yoga Tattva Upanishad: Suffering is due to ignorance. Spiritual knowledge frees you from suffering. And that knowledge is discovering the true divine nature of your own consciousness.

Enlightenment is the personal discovery of your innate divinity. This discovery takes place when the veil of ignorance is removed. And eliminating that ignorance requires spiritual knowledge, because only knowledge destroys ignorance. But then, where does kundalini yoga come into the picture? If enlightenment is obtained through spiritual knowledge, then what is the point of raising your kundalini and piercing your chakras? To answer this, we have to discern two distinct factors that are required to achieve anything, factors that the rishis call primary cause and secondary cause. If you want to make rotis for lunch with flour and water, the main cause is fire, as the heat of fire can bake bread.

A stove and frying pan are also needed, but they do not produce heat, so they are considered secondary causes. For any objective, primary and secondary causes are necessary; without fire, stove or frying pan, you will not have rotis to eat. This demonstrates an important point: spiritual knowledge is the primary cause of enlightenment, because it can remove the veil of ignorance and reveal the divinity within. But yoga is the secondary cause. So without yoga, enlightenment is impossible. Both spiritual knowledge andyoga, as the Yoga Tattva Upanishad says: Without yogic practice, how can spiritual knowledge free you from suffering?

Without spiritual knowledge, how can yogic practice free you from suffering? Both are necessary for liberation. Many types of yogic practices can help you achieve enlightenment, including karma yoga (selfless service), raja yoga (meditation), bhakti yoga (devotion), hatha yoga (postures and breathing exercises), and, of course, kundalini yoga. Another important yogic practice, closely related to kundalini yoga, is pilgrimage, traveling to a sacred place. The goal of the pilgrimage is to be blessed by the deity who resides in a sacred place, usually within a special temple. However, the rishis taught that the divinity that resides in each temple also resides in you, within your own body.

And they imagined sacred places in the body that would be visited through an inner pilgrimage. This inner pilgrimage is a meditation practice in which you deliberately imagine particular deities and sacred places within your body. The Darshana Upanishad says: The Himalayas are on top of your head. Lord Shiva dwells on your forehead. The holy city of Varanasi is between your eyebrows. Kurukshetra, where The Mahabharata War was fought, is in your chest. Prayaga, where the sacred rivers Ganges and Yamuna meet, is in your heart. The practice of kundalini yoga is a kind of inner pilgrimage. It begins at the muladhara chakra at the base of the spine and concludes at the sahasrara chakra at the crown of the head.

During this pilgrimage, you must meditate on the deity that resides in each chakra and receive the necessary blessings for your next journey. Long before modern medical science, the rishis mapped the life force of our bodies using their powers of intuition. His pre-scientific model called this life force prana and identified five types: prana, in the heart, apana, in the trunk of the body, vyana, which permeates the body, udana, in the throat, and samana, in the throat. stomach. These five pranas circulate throughout the body following specific routes called nadis. Nadi is often translated as nerve, but it is not a physical tube or conduit.

The nadis and pranas are not material in nature; They are subtle, not tangible. Your brain is tangible; It weighs about two pounds. But your mind is not tangible; It has no size or weight. In the same way, the nadis and pranas are intangible, subtle, unlike the nerves and blood vessels of your body. There are three main nadis, the sushumna which rises within the spine from the base to the crown, the ida, which ends in the left nostril, and the pingala, which ends in the right nostril. There are many other nadis in your body. It is said that they number 72,000 in total.

The sushumna nadi unites the 7 chakras. Chakra means wheel, but they are usually described as lotus flowers. According to the Yoga Cudamani Upanishad, the muladhara chakra at the base of the spine has four petals. The svadhishtana chakra above it has six petals. The manipura chakra at the navel has ten petals. The anahata chakra in the heart has twelve petals. The vishuddha chakra in the throat has 16 petals. The ajna chakra between the eyebrows has two petals. And the sahasrara chakra at the crown of the head has 1000 petals. Since chakras are like flowers, they are actually oriented upward, not outward.

Lotus flowers symbolize purity. Although they are rooted in the slimy, stinking mud at the bottom of a pond, their pristine beauty remains intact. And although the chakras are housed within an impure human vessel, their sanctity remains intact. Before examining the seven chakras in detail, we must consider an important question. Do chakras and nadis really exist within our bodies, or are they just concepts imagined by the rishis long ago? When addressing this question, many scholars and practitioners fall into the trap of treating nadis and chakras identically: either both are real or both are imaginary. But this assumption turns out to be incorrect.

First, the nadis belong to a pre-scientific model of the human nervous system, but the seven chakras are not part of that model, because the chakras are not involved in channeling prana throughout the body. The nadis direct the flow of prana, not the chakras, which have a very different purpose. To understand how the chakras are different, consider this: the nadis are extensively mentioned in the 108 upanishads, but the chakras are mainly mentioned in the 20 yoga upanishads. This shows that the chakras have a more specialized role than the nadis, a role specific to the practice of kundalini yoga. What is that role?

Chakras are richly symbolic shapes that have been imagined by rishis and deliberately superimposed on the body for meditation purposes, like the deities and sacred places of the body imagined during the practice of inner pilgrimage. Deliberate superimposition of this type is widely used, as when we superimpose the God of the cosmos on statues barely three feet high, or when we superimpose monetary value on small pieces of paper. This symbolism is powerful and useful, as it is in kundalini yoga, when the chakras and their associated deities are deliberately overlapped in places along the spine to serve as focal points for meditation.

Now we can see the difference between nadis and chakras. The nadis are part of a model of the human nervous system, which obviously exists. The chakras, on the other hand, deliberately overlap the body and must be visualized during meditation. To explain this difference, scholars say that we have to differentiate between descriptive statements and prescriptive statements. Descriptive statements describe the nature of existing things, while prescriptive statements prescribe or specify what we should or should not do. When we interpret Scripture, it is crucial to correctly determine which statements are descriptive and which are prescriptive. But it's not always obvious.

An upanishad says: The human body is a leathery bag filled with stinking pus, urine and feces. This is not a descriptive statement because its intention is not to give an objective description of the body. This is a prescriptive statement because its goal is to prescribe detachment from our bodies and those of our loved ones. When the rishis portrayed the seven chakras, their intention was not to describe objects that actually exist in the body. Rather, they prescribed a practice in which the chakras, deliberately overlapping the body, were to be visualized for meditation purposes. Of course, not everyone agrees with this.

Many modern practitioners believe that chakras actually exist within their bodies. Fortunately, this belief is of great help in the practice of kundalini yoga. Believing in the divinity of a meter-high statue on an altar helps people pray. Believing that these little pieces of paper are valuable helps us buy things. And believing that chakras actually exist within the body helps practitioners meditate. All of these beliefs are useful. The value of a belief is not in its veracity, but in its ability to help us. Beliefs are neither right nor wrong; They are useful or harmful. And believing in the existence of chakras is an extremely useful belief, which does not need to be questioned or discarded.

The word kundalini means coiled and shakti means power or energy. The rishis prescribed visualizing Kundalini Shakti as a powerful serpent coiled at the base of the spine. Why a snake? Because they are powerful: without arms or legs, they move quickly and attack fiercely. And snakes are deeply revered in Hindu culture. After shedding their skin, they are figuratively reborn and are therefore associated with the rebirth of human souls. Snakes also play important roles in many popular mythological stories. Kundalini shakti is best understood in its philosophical context. The creation of the universe is said to be the result of the union of Shiva, the masculine principle, and Shakti, the feminine principle.

Here, Shiva and Shakti are not the four-armed deities familiar to Hindus. Shiva is the fabric of reality that gives existence to everything, as clay gives existence to pots and bowls. Since clay is inert, it takes a separate creative force to transform it into various objects. Similarly, Shiva lacks the creative force necessary to produce the universe. Only when Shiva is accompanied by the infinite creative power of Shakti can the universe emerge. Shakti infuses energy throughout the cosmos, including every atom in your body. In this way, Shakti is present within you, and it is this inner presence that is called kundalini shakti.

If kundalini shakti is dormant, sleeping at the base of your spine, then how can it be awakened? The Yoga Kundali Upanishad says: The sleeping kundalini is awakened by shaking it, like hitting a snake with a stick. Then he stands up and enters sushumna nadi, like a snake entering its burrow. To awaken kundalini shakti, the yoga upanishads prescribe a variety of asanas, pranayamas, and muscle contractions known as bandhas. It is interesting that a method known as shaktipaat is not discussed anywhere in the upanishads. Shaktipaat is a special blessing from a guru, like a mantra, or even a simple touch or look, which is said to immediately awaken your kundalini.

The use of shaktipaat is widely accepted by modern teachers, although the rishis never mentioned it. Once kundalini shakti has awakened and begins its ascent, some practitioners, like Gopi Krishna, report having amazing experiences: mystical visions, heavenly sounds, ecstasies. But, if the chakras and the kundalini snake were deliberately superimposed by the rishis and do not really exist, then how could these experiences arise? For practitioners who firmly believe that the chakras and the kundalini serpent truly exist within their bodies, the wonderful power of suggestion of the mind is certainly capable of producing such experiences. The practice of kundalini yoga reaches its climax when kundalini finally ascends to the sahasrara chakra.

The Yoga Kundali Upanishad says: Having passed through the six chakras, kundalini shakti merges with Shiva in the thousand-petalled lotus at the crown of the head. That is the supreme state. That is the cause of liberation. This verse is easily misinterpreted unless we keep in mind our previous discussions. Some hold that kundalini yoga is a self-sustaining means to liberation or enlightenment. But all forms of yoga, including kundalini yoga, are secondary causes for enlightenment. Becoming enlightened solely through kundalini yoga is like making rotis with a frying pan and a stove, but without fire. The main cause of enlightenment is spiritual knowledge, which removes the veil of ignorance and reveals your true nature.

Kundalini yoga helps you gain that knowledge by bringing you into a state of meditative absorption known as samadhi. Samadhi is the goal of many meditation techniques, and rightly so. In that state of absorption, all distracting mental activities are eliminated and all that remains is you, your true nature, stripped of everything that is not you. After emerging from samadhi, you have the opportunity to learn a life-changing lesson from that unique experience: that your true nature is pure consciousness, completely independent of your body, mind, and the world around you. In this way, the state of samadhi produced by kundalini yoga can be a gateway to enlightenment, as the Trishikhi Brahmana Upanishad says: A yogi whose mind is absorbed attains liberation as easily as a fruit that is already in the bud. palm of your hand.

We have just completed a fairly complex investigation. Next, we will focus on the actual practice of kundalini yoga. Until now we have been studying the guide for inner pilgrimage laid out by the rishis. Now is the time for us to begin the real journey and follow in their footsteps by practicing kundalini yoga as they themselves

envisioned

it. This is where I meditate every day. I usually begin with prayer and devotional meditation, which help balance the higher Vedantic meditations I practice next. Starting tomorrow I am going to put this routine aside and focus exclusively on the practice of kundalini yoga.

You can join me in this practice using the teachings that follow as a guide. I'm looking forward to starting this new adventure. But when I reflect on my guru's negative comments about kundalini yoga, I feel a little uncomfortable. If he were still alive, he perhaps would not have undertaken this project. Our inner pilgrimage begins with the muladhara chakra at the base of the spine. Mula means root, and this chakra is the root or starting place of this practice. Each of the five lower chakras represents one of the five elements known in ancient times: earth, water, fire, air and space, from the densest, earth, to the most subtle, space.

Within the muladhara chakra, the earth element is represented by a yellow square. It is interesting that the yoga upanishads specify colors for each of the five elements, but say nothing about the color of each chakra. The colors used here are based on later scriptural traditions. OftenYou will see Sanskrit letters adorning the petals of each chakra, but these letters are not mentioned in the yoga upanishads; They were a later addition. The yoga upanishads specify mantras, not for the chakras, but for each of the five elements. Lam is the mantra of the earth element. Chakras are often represented with these mantras drawn inside them, but the mantras are for recitation, not visualization.

Each chakra is the abode of a particular deity who is meditated on during inner pilgrimage. For the muladhara chakra, the deity is Brahma, God in his aspect as creator of the universe. Thus, the muladhara or root chakra is associated with both the element earth, the root of all matter, and Brahma, the root of existence itself. In meditation, Brahma must be visualized according to the scriptures: sitting on a lotus, with four arms and four heads. I just finished my first meditation. For many years I focused my attention between my eyebrows, so it wasn't difficult to focus on the base of my spine.

With my attention fixed there, I visualized the muladhara chakra while reciting the earth mantra, lam. I reflected on how the element earth is the basis of my physical existence, of every atom in my body. Then, I imagined Brahma residing in the chakra and settled into a deeply prayerful mood, feeling the divine presence of God within me. The ability to become deeply absorbed in devotion is one of the many benefits of regular meditation. I find this state of prayer very enriching and healing. In that state, I sought the blessings of Brahma to succeed in the journey that has just begun.

To proceed, we have to consult the Yoga Chudamani Upanishad which says: Within the muladhara chakra there is a yoni, and within that yoni there is a great linga. The words yoni and linga often denote the female and male sexual organs, but here yoni means kundalini shakti, the feminine principle we discussed earlier, and the word linga means Shiva as pure consciousness, the masculine principle. In the muladhara chakra, kundalini shakti is represented as a powerful snake... and Shiva is represented as a rounded linga surrounded by that snake. The intimate contact between the snake and the linga is said to generate heat or fire.

According to the rishis, certain yogic practices can light that fire until it becomes hot enough to awaken the sleeping kundalini serpent and draw it out of the muladhara chakra, upward toward the sushumna nadi emerging from above. To light the fire in the muladhara chakra, the yoga upanishads prescribe various asanas, pranayamas and bandhas. One is mula-bandha, which involves contracting the muscles of the anus. Another is a type of pranayama known as bhastrika, which involves rapid, forceful exhalations, along with pulsations of the abdominal muscles. These techniques are said to force prana into the muladhara chakra, fanning the flames, so to speak, to produce enough heat to force the kundalini upward.

In tomorrow's meditation I will try these techniques. While meditating today, I visualized a roaring fire within the muladhara chakra while practicing mula-bandha. After each inhalation, I briefly held my breath and contracted my sphincter muscles. After a while, those muscles got tired, so I switched to bhastrika pranayama. It is often called bellows breath because of its vigorous exhalations. Bellows are used to force air into the fire and raise its temperature. Bhastrika pranayama certainly raised my temperature; It is very energizing. With each exhale, I also pulsed the muscles in my abdomen, which shook the organs within the trunk of my body, where the muladhara chakra is located.

This shaking is said to help wake up the snake that sleeps there. Have you ever noticed how sensations like itching, hunger, and thirst become stronger when you focus your attention on them? This is due to the power of suggestion, which can actually be used as a valuable tool for meditation. A long time ago, I discovered that by focusing my attention on any part of my body, such as between my eyebrows, I could produce various sensations there. Today, while visualizing a fire burning in the muladhara chakra, I began to feel a warm sensation at the base of my spine.

This physical sensation arose due to the combined effects of mula-bandha, bhastrika pranayama and the power of suggestion. Since kundalini yoga is based on chakras that have deliberately overlapped, the power of suggestion is crucial to its effectiveness. Skilled meditators intentionally exercise this power in their practice. For those meditators who believe that the chakras actually exist within their bodies, the power of suggestion works unconsciously and is in fact strengthened by their beliefs, making their practice more effective than for someone like me who doesn't. Share your beliefs. This is the nature of the power of suggestion. Every day I practice, the warm feeling at the base of my spine seems to become more intense.

So today I shifted the point of my concentration upwards, away from the muladhara chakra and towards the svadhisthana chakra above it. Not surprisingly, the warm feeling at the base of my spine also moved up. Could this modest experience be the initial rise of Kundalini Shakti? Shouldn't it be something more dramatic? Some practitioners report having intense and even tumultuous experiences when Kundalini begins its rise. But each practitioner is different. Furthermore, what rises from chakra to chakra is energy, like heat, not a snake. The snake is a deliberate superimposition of the rishis who prescribed that meditators should shift their point of concentration upward, from one chakra to the next.

However, for many practitioners, kundalini appears to begin its rise spontaneously and continue to rise without any deliberate effort. Without a doubt, all these experiences can be caused by the power of suggestion of the mind. Today I started meditating on the svadhisthana chakra. Since my kundalini has apparently begun its rise, there is no longer any need to light the fire in the muladhara chakra, so I stopped practicing mulabandha and bhastrika pranayama. Instead, I visualized the svadhisthana chakra, also known as the sacral chakra. Svadhisthana means the seat of existence, and this chakra is appropriately located in your seat, the sacrum.

It has six petals and is associated with the water element, which is represented by a white crescent moon. Vam is the mantra of the water element. The deity that inhabits this chakra is Vishnu, God in his aspect as sustainer of the universe. Just as the water element sustains life, Vishnu sustains the world. Vishnu is usually depicted with blue skin and four arms. I visualized the svadhisthana chakra as I recited the water mantra, vam, and reflected on how water sustains my life. I then imagined Vishnu residing in the chakra and once again settled into a deeply prayerful mood.

Today, after visualizing the svadhisthana chakra as I did yesterday, I became aware of the sensation of warmth in my sacrum. The sensation grew stronger as I focused on it more intensely. And when I shifted my attention upwards to the manipuura chakra, the feeling of warmth also rose. I'm a little surprised to progress from chakra to chakra so quickly, but it's likely that all my previous meditation practice has helped me a lot. For the last two days I have been meditating on the manipura chakra. Manipura means abode of gems. It is also called nabhi chakra, because it is located behind the nabhi or navel.

It is not accurate to call it the solar plexus chakra, because that plexus is located far above the navel. The manipura chakra has ten petals and is associated with the element fire, which is represented by a red triangle. Ram is the mantra of the fire element. The deity that inhabits this chakra is Rudra, a fierce aspect of Shiva, usually depicted as a warrior or hunter. In meditation, I visualized the manipura chakra and recited the fire mantra, ram. As I reflected on the element of fire, it became clear how the expression fire in the loins found its way into the English language.

This region seems to be associated with power, will, and assertiveness. I could feel these qualities with my attention focused there. It is not surprising that a powerful deity like Rudra dwells in the manipura chakra. For me, meditating on Rudra is like watching a violent storm that evokes great awe and respect, mixed with a little fear. In today's meditation, after visualizing the manipura chakra, I focused on the sensation of warmth behind my navel. Like before, the more I watched him, the stronger he became. Then, I shifted my attention upward to the center of my chest where the anahata chakra is located.

The warm sensation rose from the navel and gradually expanded, filling my chest. For three days I have been meditating on the anahata chakra, the so-called heart chakra, located along the spine at chest level. Anahata means that which cannot be hit, wounded or killed, referring to the soul. This chakra has twelve petals and is associated with the air element, appropriately being close to the lungs. The air element is represented by a six-pointed smoky figure. Yam is the mantra of the air element. The deity that dwells in the anahata chakra is a beneficent form of Shiva, depicted looking in all directions simultaneously, to bless all.

Shiva is often called the god of destruction, but it might be more accurate to call him the god of transformation, purification and growth, since all of this depends on the destruction of a previous condition, so that a new state can arise and better. When I visualized the anahata chakra, my attention was focused on the air moving in and out of my lungs. The air is in constant movement and it is this movement of air that fills us with life. When I meditated on Shiva, I felt deeply grateful for the gift of life we ​​receive with every breath.

In today's meditation I focused on the feeling of warmth that filled my chest. Once again, it grew stronger and rose as I shifted my attention upwards to my throat, where the vishuddha chakra is located. I completed two more meditations, focusing on the vishuddha chakra, located in the throat. Vishuddha means pure, spotless. This chakra has sixteen petals and is associated with the element of space, which is represented by a transparent circle. Ham is the mantra of this element. The deity inhabiting the Vishuddha chakra is the bisexual form of Shiva, whose right side is male and the left side is female.

This form of Shiva reminds us that none of us is exclusively male or female; Nature is exuberant in its diversity and avoids such absolute divisions. Meditating in this way helped me accept the feminine qualities that are as much a part of me as the masculine ones. In today's meditation, I observed the sensation of warmth in my throat and, as before, it moved upward when I shifted my attention to the ajna chakra, between my eyebrows. Ajna means order or order, showing the association of this chakra with the mind, our so-called command center. Although the ajna chakra is located between the eyebrows, calling it the third eye chakra is problematic, since the yoga upanishads do not refer to a third eye.

The ajna chakra is completely different from the others. It is not associated with a particular deity or any of the five elements. And since it is not associated with any element, it has no mantra, although later traditions associate it with the om mantra. The ajna chakra is located at the threshold between the five elemental chakras of the lower body and the higher transcendent sahasrara chakra. From muladhara upwards, each chakra has an increasing number of petals, but the ajna has only two. The yoga upanishads are curiously silent on the symbolic meanings of these petals. In fact, the rishis provide surprisingly little detail about any of the chakras.

Many of the details and elaborate symbolism that exists today were established by later generations of

yogis

and compiled in Sanskrit texts, such as the famous 16th century work, Exposition of the Six Chakras. The rishis appear to have deliberately left many details to the imagination of the practitioners, and this suggests that the creative use of deliberate superimposition by the rishis could also be used legitimately by later practitioners. Based on this, modern adaptations such as rainbow-hued chakras could certainly be considered acceptable, so I have to reconsider my previous condemnation of what I called distortions and misrepresentations of contemporary Western yogis.

If a particular adaptation is really useful to practitioners, then there is no need to criticize it. But we cannot be naive; Not all adaptations are useful. Some could even be harmful, such as modifications introduced by unqualified teachers or by gurus with ulterior motives, such as those who charge a fee for shaktipaat. OK. Let's go back to the ajna chakra. Although the rishis do not specify a deity for this chakra, they do prescribe visualizing a linga of light, by which they refer to a form of Shiva as pure consciousness within the ajna chakra. Now I am back on familiar ground, because meditating on pure consciousness is fundamental to Advaita Vedanta.

But here's a misnomer: you can't actually meditate on theconsciousness because, as a meditator, you are that same consciousness. You can only meditate on objects in your mind that are illuminated by the light of consciousness. So in Vedanta, meditating on consciousness means meditating on the meditator, that is, reflecting on your own essential nature as pure consciousness. Today, as I visualized the ajna chakra between my eyebrows, I reflected on how I can observe my mental image of a two-petaled lotus because it is illuminated by consciousness, the same pure consciousness that is my true nature. That consciousness is completely independent of the mind, the body and the world; transcends them all.

Having achieved this elevated perspective, I believe I am ready for the final stage of practice, when kundalini shakti ascends to the sahasrara chakra. Sahasra means one thousand, which is the number of petals of the sahasrara chakra at the crown of the head. The rishis do not give more details about this chakra. In fact, in many texts, the sahasrara is not considered a chakra at all. It is located beyond the chakras, outside the body; It is usually depicted on the outer surface of the head, not inside it. In Hindu scriptures, the number one thousand represents infinity, suggesting that the sahasrara chakra is infinite in height and breadth, infinite in brilliance, infinite in splendor.

When Kundalini Shakti finally reaches this limitless expanse, her amazing journey will be complete. According to the rishis, after ascending to the sahasrara chakra, kundalini shakti merges into pure consciousness and loses its individuality completely. But the rishis say little about the meaning and symbolism of this culminating event, because its meaning is best understood through the meditation itself, not through words. I began today's meditation by visualizing the ajna chakra and focusing on the feeling of warmth between my eyebrows. I let that feeling grow stronger and then shifted my attention upward to the top of my head. As before, the warm sensation moved upward, but as it ascended, it transformed into a bright light that seemed to fill my head and body, and radiate beyond it as well.

Then, almost immediately, that light went out and my mind went deeply silent. I fell into a state of absorption, samadhi, just as I had done many times before using other techniques. Samadhi is something like being blissfully immersed in a deep sleep, except you remain wide awake. When you wake up from sleep, you know that you slept; when you emerge from samadhi, you know that you were absorbed. Anyone who experiences samadhi for the first time will find it a great achievement. And anyone who discovers that their true nature is pure consciousness, completely independent of mind, body and world, will find this recognition completely life-changing.

No doubt, many kundalini yoga practitioners have reached these great heights and have been blessed by their efforts. But my previous practice had already blessed me in this way, so my experience of Kundalini's triumphant rising seemed to lack the tremendous intensity that other practitioners describe. Furthermore, I have a feeling that if I firmly believed in the real existence of chakras, my experiences could have been much more intense. But of course, the ultimate goal of this practice is not to produce enthusiastic experiences, but to support the achievement of spiritual knowledge, enlightenment. I have learned a lot from this experiment.

I have discovered how Advaita Vedanta and Kundalini Yoga actually complement each other. I have learned to be less critical of modern adaptations, such as rainbow-colored chakras. And I have become friends with this often misunderstood snake. Will I start teaching kundalini yoga to my students now? I do not think. This technique is quite complex, so it takes a lot of time to learn and practice it. More than that, kundalini yoga seems like a difficult way to achieve a state of absorption that can be more easily achieved through other techniques. But then, if there are easier paths to samadhi, why is kundalini yoga so widely taught?

Its popularity is most likely due to the problem of experience seeking. The pursuit of worldly experiences can prevent people from seeking spiritual growth. But, if kundalini yoga promises new and exciting experiences, you might consider practicing it. Then your practice might lead you to realize that something much more valuable than exciting experiences is within your reach. Such recognition might lead them away from the pursuit of experiences and toward seeking enlightenment. This so-called bait-and-switch approach could have led many practitioners to find perfect peace and lasting satisfaction. If so, the ability to turn seekers of worldly experiences into authentic spiritual seekers could be the most extraordinary feature of kundalini yoga.