Kundalini lowering (rooting)

Kundalini rising? Some of us open up to the all well before our bodies are fit to hold it. We need to, instead work on becoming grounded. Perhaps we can call it Kundalini Lowering. 😎 (edit and update: a reader suggested the term Kundalini Rooting rather than lowering. I think it’s perfect…)

It’s taken me years to articulate this. I have been aware of this phenomenon in my own experience for a long time but I’m finally saying it. Some of us don’t have significant egoic development and then we open up to an explosion from above and have to bring it down. We are often pathologized but it’s just a different way of being and there are different skills and talents involved but it’s all very similar too. We are doing a whole lot of transmuting of darkness because it seems to me most of us who go in this order have severe and complex trauma that we are healing.

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17 thoughts on “Kundalini lowering (rooting)

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  1. I just read the article from the link “Spiritual emergency: one way of interpreting activity of the psyche that is often labeled psychotic”
    I have such pent up rage after two decades of degrading stigmatization, primarily initiated by my mainstream psychologist toxic biological mother. (Whew! Had to get that out. My phenomenal experience of spiritual emergence and transformation to a beautiful loving clown doing backwards somersaults down the hospital hallway in Truth or Consequences, NM, in the days surrounding the winter solstice of 2003. I laughed as they handcuffed me, loaded me in the back of the sheriff’s car, so I snored a bit with my arms cuffed, all the way to Mesilla Valley Hospital in Las Cruces, NM . . . of course it was lockdown. I had nothing but paper pajamas and a blanket. It was transformative, and that sacred clown in me is trying to find her place. New Mexico is truly the Land of Enchantment, and I drank hot water from 40 feet underground, and floated and floated, outside! I was saying mantras one night, alone, in the 4th of 4 outdoor tubs at the hostel where Geronimo’s progeny come to visit for the winter solstice. I could go on and on and someday I’ll finish that book about my experience, but I’ve become more invalid-ated as a result of cobalt poisoning from hip replacement failures.
    A couple of years ago, I was working up a plan to get back there (or to Magdalena, my original calling), but the climate change extremes have made TorC an oven. The cobalt poisoning makes me heat sensitive. I could never live there. Enough babbling. I notice sometimes you are up and writing at 4:30 in the morning. Been there. Doing that. It is agony for me because it is a time of cortisol surging (because of low blood sugar). I’m wakened in the dark and nothing will get me down again because I start thinking! Only saying long mantras helps, after I’ve staggered like a drunk to the bathroom in utter vertigo (think cruise ship in a storm: that’s vertigo. The floor comes up to my waist. All from the cobalt poisoning (or cobaltism; NOT metallosis which implies an allergic reaction that only those who are allergic will be harmed. Cobalt is as toxic as arsenic. “You must be allergic to arsenic” Duh.
    So you’re up and writing while I’m spending 60 minutes of morning doo dass in the darkest hell. So I’m fucking back on valium and neurontin and Benadryl and Tylenol for Arthritis and propanolol for the tremor and the Tardive Dyskinesia (parkinsonianism) in my head, face neck . . . o yeh, cobalt got fattened up in for 4 years in my blood stream, eating bone and flesh (necrosis, like crankcase oil), messing with the heart, gave me 5 lesions on the brain. BASTA. I’m looking for the essence of life. And yes, addressing your initial concern, even the cobalt is to blame for what looks like psychosis, but to me I talked like Tourettes, had HUGE peripheral neuopathy that blossomed into cranial neuropathy (i.e. cobalt ate the myelin sheath around the nerves and there was a storm of angry wasps in my head. It doesn’t help PTSD to have called 911 4 or 5 times. Immediately they put me in lockdown, Monica, to get back to your original well-written piece, I am frightened that no one knows or cares to know. Enough. I know well enough that I had a shamanic initiation that night in the waters on the edge of a bend in the Rio Grande, and across from Turtle Mountain facing northwest . . . a place of asking for help. LIKE THE DOUGH WE BOTH DESPERATELY NEED.
    peace and contentment with what we have,
    mickey morgan


    1. Mickey, I’ve got parasites in my brain along with all the other stuff I routinely talk about and it ain’t a pretty process (managing the internal ecosystem as I am calling it these days). I don’t dwell on the hell when I can avoid it and when I need to be I dive deep into it as I continue to heal this body. People project everything on to me…including and mostly their healthy selves…we are all doing the best we can and that is all there is. I continue to practice surrender. Surrender. Surrender.


      1. Parasites! I bet you could teach your doctors. Yes dwelling is helling. The mudslingers are only appearances that WE project because a kind universe offers us an opportunity to learn from hell, and rise above it. I thank you for your teaching. Surrender.


      1. Did he write “Autobiography of a Yogi” or something like that? I have an old paperback of about 450 pages! But I haven’t read it in 20 years! I’ll check out the video now.


  2. Most of us are out of our bodies, detached, in some kind of disconnected spiritual world. I would say that bringing our Heaven to Earth is exactly what you describe here. Spirit into the body as one. Maybe Kundalini rises and then must come down again to complete the circuit!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You are close to my reality and I am close to you.
      You are now where you can be close to people you know nothing about, and bring them your reality.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I had this experience some years ago. Started getting alot of messages and a whole new way of living was opening up. The earth transformed into heaven. It was all light. When I asked what I guess you could call my higher self what to do next, the answer was “clean”. I understood then I needed grounding, get my self into the dirt. I was too far up there. So started cleaning – the house, the garden, later the streets and then also my self from within. The cleaning saved me, I honestly think. No doctor needed… Im still dedicated to cleaning, years later. The beaches most recently, and my self. Cleaning is an absolutely essental part of that spiritual journey Im on. And I now that Im now close to be all clean from that old, false, self abusive me that I used to identify as me. Im not up or down any more. Im Here.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Monica, I want to give back to you, and I ache in sadness that I cannot, at least in monetary help. I live on the poverty line and Trump just grabbed $179/mo from me in food stamps, but left me with $15 so that he can say MILLIONS of people are getting food stamps. And then there’s the family desertion thing and the vertigo and the hidden secret that I and thousands of others are at this moment being poisoned by cobalt from grinding hip replacements, etc., etc., etc. (throw in strokes, and flat falls on the sidewalk . . . a toxic mother psychologist(!) 3 miles away who I haven’t seen since Christmas. BASTA.
    I do have words I can give you. From a dream teacher, a male voice:
    “Love is the Crowning Glory of Understanding”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey! Mickey. You’re fine…the last thing I want to do is cause others stress. I mean it…this is the gift economy I’m shooting for…we do what we can when we can. We give without expectation and we honor our own needs first. Love to you, dear sister.


      1. Naw, you didn’t cause me stress! I have so many times been soothed by your words, and developed more conviction in my inner core. Millions of dollars can’t buy that. Love to you too, sister always



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