Kundalini – When the Universe Took Away My Remote Control

When kundalini awakened, I thought the worst was over, once the energy had made its way up through the chakras. I was wrong. Apparently, that was just the introductory course. After that, the real work began. No one told me the universe intended to completely renovate my entire operating system without first asking permission.

I used to love travelling. Now I think Gardermoen sounds like an exhausting chore. I used to look forward to buying things. Now I walk into a store, look at everything, and think: "Right… more stuff." I used to enjoy working out. Now my body just answers: "No." Not "maybe." Just "no." As for the sexual side of things? It's as if someone pulled the fuse. I don't know if the electrician is coming back. The ego, on the other hand, isn't giving up without a fight. Every single day, it protests. "This can't possibly be the point of all this?" "Can't we just go back to being normal?" "Can we at least want to buy a new jacket?" The universe answers with total silence.

I used to be preoccupied with money. Now I think: as long as I have enough for food, housing, and Caruso, I'll probably be fine. Who is this person? I barely recognise her. And the strangest part of all? I feel almost like a robot. A robot with no free will. As if someone has taken over the control room and I'm just sitting in the back, watching. "Oh, we're doing this today?" "Alright then." I just get to tag along. Some people ask if it's entities. No. Those I'd recognise. They've been told to pack their things and leave. They realised a long time ago that my address is no longer worth the trouble. No, this is something else entirely.

I actually know which process I'm going through. I roughly know where I am on the map. I know this is only the first seven-year cycle, where the rest of the karma is supposedly meant to burn off. I just wish the universe had chosen a slightly gentler incinerator. The strange thing is that as old interests disappear, a peculiar sense of calm arrives alongside them. I need less. I chase less. I react less. It's simply incredibly unfamiliar to no longer be the person I thought I was. Maybe that's the whole point. That it isn't "me" who's disappearing. It's just everything I never actually was. But if anyone out there still thinks kundalini is only about light, love, and eternal bliss... then they've probably only read the cover of the book. The rest of the chapters are considerably more... creative.

Namaste.