At this point in my life, I’m not keen to learn a whole new complicated system.
I may have no choice.
A couple Saturdays ago, my morning meditation saw an unusually intense episode of what I have called “peace of mind.”
Attributes of peace of mind:
- unusual relaxation of the lower abdomen, from the navel to the groin
- a sense of warmth in the same area
- corresponding relaxation of the diaphragm, enabling exceptionally deep breaths and corresponding relaxation of the whole body
- complete presence — attention to the material here-and-now
- complete acceptance of, or peace with, oneself
- complete acceptance of, or peace with, What Is — the world as it is
When this state occurs, I normally wind up thinking, “This is it. This is the best. Everyone should have this. If there were a gift I could give every human being, this would be it.”
On this occasion, this state persisted beyond the end of my meditation and to the point of inconvenience, even discomfort. I wondered if I might have a bladder infection. I wondered if this might be the opening of an unknown chakra.
I went to the Wikipedia page on “root chakra,” and found it utterly useless. It is woefully overloaded with technical terms and concepts — and even nonsense: ” It is said that one who chants the Seed Mantra of [the root chakra] for more than 100,000,000 times can attain all the Siddhis [miraculous powers] of the [root chakra].” Who would ever want to do that?
Then I went here: Wikihow: How To Open Your Spiritual Chakras. This was far more helpful. On the one hand, its description of the sensations, emotions and worldview associated with opening the root chakra, confirmed to me that this is what “peace of mind” really means — though I’m hesitant to say that, even now. It associates this chakra with courage, which seems to confirm my longstanding belief that it is by attending to the material here-and-now that one can really attain courage.
On the other hand, it provides methods for opening any and all of the chakras, which Herbert Puryear, an interpreter of the Edgar Cayce readings, insists one should never intentionally do. Based on Revelation chapter 5, Puryear says Cayce says that opening the chakras is the sole prerogative of the Christ Consciousness, which is normally completely subconscious.
There are more complications. First, the basic teaching of the East is that one needs to find balance among all seven chakras. And there are texts, like The Secret of the Golden Flower, which go into great, complex detail about exactly how to do that. (Puryear was also a great fan of this text.) In the Way of Peace chapter, “Meditation,” I specifically warned against such complication. But the present discovery may completely up-end my intentions for that little book.
Second, as to the affect of courage, all by itself, many more chakras may be involved than just one. Given the root chakra’s proximity to the testes, some folk sometimes feel courage there and call it “balls.” That color is red. Some people sometimes feel courage from the solar plexus, and thus speak of “guts.” Confidence (Netzach) is yellow, and emanates from the adrenal chakra.
The word “courage” itself pertains to the heart (French coeur, Latin cor) and I have had experiences of feeling discouraged as “disheartened,” and encouraged as “heartened.” Moreover, my strongest motivation in life being to encourage folk who’ve been put down (by people, injustice or circumstances) — that comes from the heart.
Then there’s hope, which is blue and emanates from the thyroid chakra. The color pertains to why we feel hope when we view a blue sky.
There are folk who have little choice about studying the occult, doing so not out of curiosity but out of need, being subject from birth to experiences of occult dynamics clairvoyance and telepathy, telekinesis and precognition, energy fields and encounters with discarnate persons.
If I continue to have experiences of opening the various chakras, I may have no choice but to learn a complex new system. I have not yet read what I regard as the best available book on the subject, Carolyn Myss’s Anatomy of Spirit.