My Guru & His Disciple Read Online Free PDF Page A

for instance.
    I doubt if I had already heard, at this time, of the kundalini. But I will write about it here because it is relevant to the subject of sex and chastity.
    According to Hindu physiology, the kundalini is a huge reserve of energy situated at the base of the spine. Its name means “that which is coiled up,” and hence it is sometimes referred to as “the serpent power.” We are told that, when this power has been aroused, it rises upward along the spinal canal. In doing so, it passes through several centers of consciousness, known as chakras. A chakra is not an anatomical organ; its nature is described as “subtle,” as distinct from “gross.” Subtle matter is invisible to gross eyesight and can be seen only in spiritual visions.
    In the great majority of people, the kundalini seldom rises above the three lowest chakras; therefore, its power causes only material desires, including lust. When, however, a person becomes sufficiently spiritual, the kundalini rises to the higher chakras, thus causing greater and greater degrees of enlightenment. In exceedingly rare cases, the kundalini may reach the highest chakra, the seventh, and cause samadhi, which is the ultimate experience of union with what is eternal within oneself.
    Regarded from this standpoint, chastity isn’t even a virtue; it is a practical necessity. By being chaste, you conserve the kundalini power which is absolutely necessary for your spiritual progress.
    I found this image of the kundalini most helpful as a corrective to puritanism. The religious puritan regards certain parts and functions of the mind-body as “pure” and others as “impure.” He refuses to admit that there can be any relation between the two groups. Meanwhile, the anti-religious puritan thinks that he is effectively damning religion when he declares that it is nothing but repressed sex. There is only one kundalini, one power behind all these functions. Why call it either pure or impure?
    *   *   *
    At the end of our interview, the Swami wrote out a sheet of instructions for me—what I was to try to do when I meditated:
    1. Try to feel the presence of an all-pervading Existence.
    2. Send thoughts of peace and goodwill toward all beings—north, south, east, and west.
    3. Think of the body as a temple, containing the Reality.
    4. Meditate on the Real Self. The Self in you is the Self in all beings. I am infinite Existence, infinite Knowledge, infinite Bliss.
    August 5. I find number one the easiest—especially at night. It would be quite easy in the desert. Here, you keep hearing cars, steam hammers, distant radio, the clock, the icebox motor—and have to remind yourself that the Existence is also within these mechanisms.
    Number two is easy as long as I think of typical people in each country. For some reason, it is most difficult to send goodwill toward the South Americans or anywhere south of the equator, perhaps because I’ve never been there. The points of the compass bother me, too. Where is everybody? This would be easiest on top of a mountain or a skyscraper.
    Number three: very difficult. Much involved with thoughts of sex.
    Number four: relatively easy. When I think in terms of writing, I can easily see that the writer taps a great store of universal knowledge. The more daring, the more persistent he is, the more he finds out … “Infinite Bliss”—infinite possibility of bliss inside each of us. Why do I make myself miserable? Fear and desire are simply a blockage in the pipe. Get them out, and the water will run. It’s there all the time.
    This evening, on bedroom floor, in the dark. Unsatisfactory. Stuck at number one, because I couldn’t get over the feeling that everybody was asleep and therefore no longer part of “Consciousness.” Posture is difficult. My back hurts. But I feel somehow refreshed.
    The mention of “posture” in my diary