Tuesday, March 17, 2015


Alchemical literature (Paracelsus, Jacob Boehme, Julius Evola) speaks of the "etheric light," the source of space and time. Seeing in, or with, the etheric light is difficult. It is the "second sight" of traditional wisdom. You're walking along a street. You hear an unexpected burst of laughter. You glance up from the pavement at the approaching faces. You have the sensation that you've glimpsed something immense and completely other than what you're looking at — two pedestrians passing you on the sidewalk, sharing a joke. You've glimpsed something vast and radiant which has shut itself out of your mind too quickly for you to register, and left you with a mere visual, aural and spatial impression. You have a feeling that you're given this glimpse every second of every day, but that something keeps blocking it out of your awareness. You've seen the etheric light, but the brain's been unable to retain it.
Natalie Chinese ceremonial wedding
Chinese Ceremonial Wedding

As Kundalini works on altering the neural pathways in the brain, these instances of second sight become more frequent. There's a more constant presence of radiance around the head and throat, as well as an increased sensitivity to sounds. Clocks ticking and the rustle of truck tires in the street create spaces outside your mind for you to expand into. As well as filling your visual field, other people open a space inside you, like a tuning fork touching your coccyx. All this is normal, or meta-normal.

The depth, however, of this space/time dimension of the etheric light is vast, and can, perhaps, be taken way beyond glimpses and resonances, as Kundalini opens the higher chakras in the throat and forehead.

There are well-documented accounts of precognition, of living for a split second in a future moment of space/time, sometimes in the coming life of others, sometimes in one's own future life. What separates such real seeing from mere fantasy or dream? I think there are two things — firstly, a degree of physical detail, a quality of light, and a three-dimensional solidity to the vision that's not present in dream or fantasy; and secondly, a sense of threat, of being endangered. This feeling of being at risk is understandable — the approaching moment of space/time that we dread the most, and which is the most inevitable, is the time and place of our own physical death. Precognitions are rare, and varied, but they all have the nature of an ending. They share a similarity to dying. This is why they can be easily misread. The mind, in its effort to wriggle out of the impact of its own ending, can misinterpret its momentary transference to another time and place, and become trapped in highly-energized illusion, particularly when it's sexual desire that switches on the etheric light. I describe one such precognition, and its consequences, in Natalie, A Kundalini Love Story.

The physicist, John Wheeler, said: "No one ever saw a place except at a time, or a time except at a place." According to Einstein, this space/time continuum is static. All the events that have ever been, or ever will be, are present in the here and now. Quantum mechanics states that the act of observation is continuous with the event observed. The apparent randomness of particle events could well be a manifestation of a deeper "implicate order" (David Bohm), the action of an underlying consciousness. All this accords with the anecdotal evidence of precognition. We shouldn't let our awe of the physicists' braininess and the complexity of their maths, or even our fear of highly-energized illusion, prevent us from approaching this fundamental state from the angle of shared human consciousness.

1 comment:

  1. My wife says she is honored to feature on the Kundalini Consortium.