Guest guest Posted March 21, 2000 Report Share Posted March 21, 2000 [This is not about K. psychosis; it's about the differences between the Kundalini process and psychosis.] [Lee Sannella, M.D. Kundalini Experience. Lower Lake CA: Integral Publishing.] Chapter 9 THE KUNDALINI CYCLE: DIAGNOSIS AND THERAPY Diagnostic Considerations The clinical data at hand indicates a clear distinction between the physio-kundalini complex and psychosis. These findings also furnish a number of criteria for distinguishing between these two conditions. In some of the cases presented in this book, we have seen that a schizophrenia-like condition can result when the person undergoing the kundalini experience receives negative feedback either through social pressure or through the resistances created by earlier conditioning. Evidence that these conditions are distinct and separate is supplied particularly by two of my cases. The first is the case of the female artist, which I outlined in Chapter 6. The other case is not included in this book. It involved a person who became ''psychotic'' after being confined to a mental institution for inappropriate behavior. Each of them reported that during their stay in their respective mental institutions they were quite sure that they (and several of the other patients) could tell who among them were "crazy" and who were just "far-out and turned on." Possibly this is a situation where "it takes one to know one," and a person whose own kundalini is active can intuitively sense the kundalini state of another. This is of special interest, as such people could be consulted when assistance is needed to decide which way the balance lies between the two processes in any particular case (see Appendix 2 on the Masts of India). Clinicians usually have a finely tuned sense of what is psychotic. For the most part, it is this sense for the "smell" of psychosis that tells us if a patient is unbalanced or whether he or she is instead inundated with more positive psychic forces. Also, trained clinicians generally have a feeling for whether a patient is dangerous to himself or herself and to others. Individuals who experience hostility or anger in the early phases of kundalini awakening are in my experience rarely inclined to dramatize their violent emotions. Furthermore, those in whom the kundalini elements predominate are usually much more objective about themselves and have an interest in sharing their experiences and troubles. Those on the psychotic side tend to be very oblique, secretive, and totally preoccupied with ruminations about some vague but apparently significant subjective aspect of their experience that they can never quite communicate. My clinical data together with Bentov's model allows me to highlight several more distinguishing features. Sensations of heat are common in kundalini states but are rare in psychosis. Also very typical are feelings of vibration or fluttering, tingling, and itching that move in definite patterns over the body, usually in the sequence described earlier. But these patterns may be irregular in atypical cases or in those who have preconceived ideas of how the kundalini energies should circulate. In addition to this, bright lights may be seen internally. There may be pain, especially in the head, which arises suddenly and ceases equally suddenly during critical phases in the process. Unusual breathing patterns are common, as well as other spontaneous movements of the body. Noises such as chirping and whistling sounds are heard, but seldom do voices intrude in a negative way, as is the case in psychotic states. When voices are heard, they are perceived to come from within and are not mistaken for outer realities. My clinical findings support the view that the kundalini force is positive and creative. Each of my kundalini clients is now successful in his or her own terms. They all report that they can handle stress more easily and have become more relational. The classical cases indicate that special capacities (known as siddhis or "powers"), as well as deep inner peace, may result from the completion of the kundalini process. But in the initial stages, stress induced by the experience itself, coupled with a negative attitude from oneself or others, may be overwhelming and cause severe imbalance. Experience suggests that such cases are best approached with understanding, strength, and gentle support. Earlier I described the case of the writer whose spontaneous trances had disturbed him greatly. They ceased altogether when I encouraged him to enter a trance state voluntarily. By making a distinction between psychotic and psychically active, I had communicated to him the attitude that his trances were valid and meaningful. Because of my own acceptance of his experience, he was also able to accept it. The trances ceased to control him as soon as he gave up his resistance to them and their underlying forces. Similarly, the female psychologist suffered from severe headaches, which stopped as soon as she ceased trying to control the process, accepting it instead. The pain, in other words, did not result from the kundalini process itself but from the person's resistance to it. I suspect this is true of all the negative effects of the physio-kundalini mechanism. Symptoms caused by the physio-kundalini will disappear spontaneously over time. Because we are dealing essentially with a purificatory or balancing process, and since each person represents a finite system, the process is self-limiting. Disturbances must also not be viewed as pathological. They are, rather, therapeutic inasmuch as they lead to a removal of potentially pathological elements. The kundalini force arises spontaneously from deep within the body-mind, and is apparently self-directing. Tension and imbalance thus result not from the process itself but from conscious or subconscious interference with it. Helping a person to understand and accept what is happening to him or her may be the best we can do. Usually the process, when left alone, will find its own natural pace and balance. However, if it has already become too rapid or violent, my experience suggests that its course can be moderated by introducing a heavier diet and vigorous exercise and by suspending meditation. Those in whom the physio-kundalini process is most readily activated and in whom it is most likely to become violent and disturbing are those with especially sensitive nervous systems - the natural psychics. Many of my cases had had some kind of psychic experience prior to their kundalini awakening. Natural psychics tend to find the physio-kundalini experience so intense that they will not engage in the regular classical meditation methods that commonly enhance the kundalini process. Sometimes, if they do not wish to refrain from meditating altogether, they may adopt some mild form of their own choosing. Much of their anxiety may be due to misunderstanding and ignorance of the physio-kundalini process. Rather than increasing their fear, one should obviously give them the knowledge and confidence to allow the process to progress at the maximum comfortable, natural rate. Clearly, much could be accomplished by changing attitudes, first in those experiencing the kundalini phenomenon, but ultimately in our society as a whole. This would benefit all of us who need viable models in our spiritual quest. Unfortunately, in our Western civilization, spiritual values and attitudes are generally suppressed. Some other cultures are more advanced in this regard, and they recognize the positive contribution made by spiritually or psychically developed individuals. Thus, in Bali the trance state serves an important adaptive function for the children. As Richard Katz (1973) has shown, the African Bushmen use trance as a central ritual that promotes social cohesion. I was informed by J. Scutch (1974) that in South Africa a psychic condition, which Western psychiatry would probably identify as an acute schizophrenic break, is a prerequisite for initiation into the priesthood of one tribe. In the Himalayan countries, trance mediums fulfill an important social function. Many more examples could readily be given. By contrast, how many creative people in our culture are suffering because of diagnostic mistakes! I feel that the healing profession has a special obligation to make every effort to correct these mistakes. Recognition of the kundalini phenomenon as a nonpsychotic process is a part of this. It is tragic that potentially charismatic folks like shamans, trance mediums, and God-intoxicated individuals (similar to the Masts of India) might actually find themselves in custodial care in our society. Possibly there are many now who, despite their eccentricities, should be released so that they can enrich our lives. The problem is to identify them among the other inmates of our mental institutions. Here Meher Baba's work with the Masts, as mentioned in Appendix 2, might serve as a useful precedent (see Donking 1948). If it is true, as I have already suggested, that "it takes one to know one," such people could indeed be invaluable in our diagnosis and therapeutic support of kundalini cases. Of those undergoing the kundalini process without preparation, not a few tend to feel quite insane, at least at times. By behaving normally and keeping silent about their experience, they may avoid being labeled schizophrenic, or being hospitalized, or sedated. But imagine their sense of isolation and the suffering caused by their separation from others. We must reach these people, their families, and the larger culture with the information necessary to help them recognize their condition as a blessing, not a curse. Certainly, we must no longer subject people in the midst of this rebirth process to drugs or shock therapy - approaches which are poles apart from creative self-development and spiritual maturation. Instead, we must begin to acknowledge that these individuals, though they may be confused and fearful, are already undergoing therapy from within - a therapy that is far superior to any that modern medicine could administer from without. Kundalini as Therapy Several of my kundalini cases are especially interesting because they serve as support for my contention that the kundalini process can be looked upon as being inherently therapeutic. A psychologist-writer was hospitalized for three months thirty years ago. He had been diagnosed as suffering from a psychotic break, characterized by disturbances in judgment, flight of ideas, grandiosity, and over-activity. After that episode he was somewhat unstable, suffering from a chronic mild depression. Nevertheless, he made his living as a therapist, occasionally being very effective, but constantly becoming involved in countertransference problems (that is, over-involvement with his clients). At other times, he was unable to provide for himself adequately. In 1974 he became a disciple of Swami Muktananda, a master of Siddha Yoga. He found that his stay at the Swami's Indian hermitage and the contact with that adept and with other spiritual practitioners proved a very potent therapy. Signs of kundalini awakening began to appear early in his involvement with Swami Muktananda, and it led to, or at least was accompanied by, a prodigious increase in productivity in his writing. He also began to enjoy new depths in his interpersonal relationships and gained a surer grasp on his life. I saw him frequently both before and during this important period in his life and can attest to the dramatic strengthening of his whole personality structure, character, and his ways of dealing with the world, both inner and outer. Another case, a female psychologist, now in her mid-fifties, had been severely depressed for many years and had even made two serious suicide attempts by overdosing on sleeping pills. She remained in a coma for several days following each episode. Her only extended hospitalization occurred prior to these suicide attempts, as a result of her depression following the birth of her first child. For years she held a responsible position as an administrator, and she was also a successful psychotherapist. During this time she herself was undergoing psychotherapy, including a classical psychoanalysis. In 1972 this woman attended a meditation retreat during which she spent many hours each day in meditation. Within a short time she began to have spontaneous kundalini experiences. Subsequently she became a student of Swami Muktananda. I got to know her in 1973. During the first year of our acquaintance she was somewhat withdrawn and reserved. But later she blossomed into a secure, intact, fun-loving person. She tells me that she has not known a day of depression since. My observations confirm her self-appraisal. I recall four psychics, each of whom had been diagnosed as suffering from some sort of convulsive disorder. In each case there was a marked relief in symptoms and in their need for anti-convulsive medication after finding and using their psychic talents. Some other creative pursuit might have proven equally liberating. These four people chose to become professional psychics, and although no claim is made, based on this evidence, for a causal relationship between their new energy investment and the amelioration of their symptoms, it is suggestive. I feel quite certain that at a higher level of functioning, such as may become effective through the kundalini process, there will accrue all kinds of benefits, including better health and emotional balance. Of course, as we have seen, the kundalini process can also be disruptive. If left alone, a person may well suffer doubts and fears that could easily be handled in a supportive environment like a spiritual hermitage or monastery, where the disturbing side effects of a kundalini awakening are rightly understood, accepted, and to some extent even welcomed. Without such a setting, however, those who experience this force may react in a number of undesirable ways. Naive individuals may interpret the experience as an inner change so profound and upsetting as to be a convincing indication of loss of sanity. This is essentially what happened in the case of the female artist and that of the actress described in Chapter 6. Also in at least one instance (that of the middle-aged housewife) the confusion and turmoil arising from a spontaneous kundalini awakening led to psychic inflation and delusions of grandeur. The female psychologist handled her inner disruption by becoming a member of various groups, and by finding supportive teachers and therapists. It was necessary for her to make use of these aids for a year or more before she could continue on her own. The scientist, whose understanding was even more adequate and whose situation was quite supportive, was able to function by simply cutting down on the intensity of his meditations. It should be clear by now that physicians are well advised to be alert for the symptom patterns of an active kundalini when making a diagnosis. Neurologists with diagnostic problems mimicking pathological conditions may gain valuable diagnostic clues by reviewing the patient's meditation history. In this way they may delay or completely avoid harsh and inappropriate diagnostic procedutes. Psychotherapists dealing with hysterical overlays or psychotic reactions to kundalini awakening are reminded that beneath the neurosis, or psychosis, a process is occurring that is far beyond our ordinary understanding of psychopathology and of the kind of ecstatic states described, for instance, by William James (1929). In addition to psychotherapy, if indicated, I recommend that persons suspected of kundalini problems be urged to consult someone with experience in this area. Of course, selecting a helping person may be most difficult. Unless the physician is experienced and has explored the available resources, he or she may be unable to do more than recommend that the patient seek out such an individual. In some cases it may be appropriate to refer the patient to a spiritual teacher who is known to be familiar with the kundalini phenomenon and may even, as was the case with the late Swami Muktananda, be able to induce it by way of psychic transmission. I must, however, sound a word of caution here. I firmly believe that methods designed specifically to hasten kundalini arousal, such as the breath control exercises known as pranayama, are hazardous, unless practiced directly under the guidance of a competent spiritual teacher, or guru, who should have gone through the whole kundalini process himself or herself. Deliberate practice of yogic breathing techniques may prematurely unleash titanic inner forces for which the unprepared individual has no means of channeling and control. The kundalini can be forced, but only to one's own detriment. Epilogue In scientific circles it is something of a truism that many experiments with surprising and unexplained outcomes remain unpublished, whereas those that support favorite hypotheses get into print. In other words, the business of science is not as objective as scientific ideology would have it. This explains why the more esteemed scientific journals, which of course are also the most conservative, have given very little space to the kind of unusual phenomena that are mentioned in this book. However, there are many stalwart researchers who are not discouraged by this but who continue to dedicate their lives to exploring psychospiritual realities. One of these maverick scientists is Hiroshi Motoyama. He has done much to verify the cakra system and also the acupuncture meridians through his sophisticated electromagnetic equipment. It was at his laboratory in Tokyo, Japan, that Itzhak Bentov and I did a series of experiments that showed amplitude differences in the body's micromotions on the right and left sides of the head. The motion on the left was fifty percent greater. Shortly after we had noted this remarkable difference, we chanced upon another significant discovery: When our subject went into a deep meditative state, this right-left difference was almost equalized. In ordinary consciousness, the EEG amplitude at one side of the brain is greater than at the other. With feedback and patience a person can balance this difference, and at that point he or she feels profound peace and tranquillity. Perhaps our finding is a physical counterpart of this psychological state. J. Millay (1976) observed that subjective reports of peacefulness, centeredness, and light were common among a group of students who achieved 7- to 13-Hz EEG phase coherence between the right and the left cerebral hemisphere. Another confirmation of the link between mental states and physiology is seen in the work of Manfred Clynes (see Jonas 1972). He has shown that an emotion can be recorded by a simple transducer sensitive to lateral and vertical pressure. Clynes had his subjects fantasize a particular emotion and press on the transducer simultaneously. This created a characteristic signature or waveform for each emotion. Sylvia Brody and Saul Axelrod (1970) noted that fetal responses studied by them had pattern, direction, and effect. Later, William Condon and Louis Sander found that the apparent random movements of infants were synchronized with adult speech they heard. Summarizing the work of these two scientists, Joseph Chilton Pearce (1980) stated that as adults we have our own personal repertoire of micromuscular movements coordinating with our use of and reception to speech. These studies, similar to those I mentioned earlier, are further evidence for a sensory-motor link. My colleagues and I, as well as others, have attempted to measure physiological correlates of meditators' reported sensations of heat, light, and sound. As noted in the case histories of meditators undergoing the kundalini awakening, we did observe temperature changes in one case. Such changes could be made visible on recently developed medical thermographic equipment, without the need for attaching temperature transducers to the bodies of meditating subjects. Other investigators, particularly R. Dobrin (1975), have described the use of sensitive photomultiplier tubes to detect low-intensity ultraviolet light from the bodies of experimental subjects, but so far little attention has been paid to correlating such measurements with meditative processes. Our attempts to measure physiological correlates of meditators' sound sensations were unsuccessful. Further work along all of these lines, using improved equipment and experimental procedures, is called for. It will help demonstrate the extent to which there is an objective basis for the subiective reports of meditators. We did an interesting experiment - which has not, to my knowledge, been confirmed or replicated - using Hiroshi Motoyama's electric field sensor, or "cakra measuring device." When the subject sat quietly in this machine, we could observe the usual EEG waveform. After a few minutes of deep meditation, probably at the point where the subject felt he or she had transcended the ordinary consciousness, there suddenly appeared a diminution of these signals and a corresponding increase in amplitude in a higher frequency band, one which our experimenters had not been equipped to detect. To our surprise, this new waveform was in the frequency range of 350 to 500 Hz, much higher than the 0- to 50-Hz frequency range of a normal EEG waveform. These higher frequency EEG signals could be an easily measured physiological indicator of certain meditative states and out-of-body experiences, or of bilocation of consciousness. If so, a subject full of mystery and fascination for centuries can now become a new frontier for science. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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