Friday, August 16, 2013

Kundalini




Kundalini
© Tuesday May Thomas 2013

We all have our own unique Kundalini stories.... And if you have yet to experience one- it could sneak up on you when you least expect it- as it did with me. Om and Love <3

The year is 1991. I live in Ireland. I'm 19 years old and proud to have spent several years back-up singing in a funk band called 'The Way It Is'.

Tuesday May back-up singing with
The Way It Is circa 1990
I meet my (then) boyfriend at the Rock School in Balleyfermot. He's a bass player with such a thick Dublin accent, the Irish along the countryside have trouble understanding him.  We form a band together, write songs, play gigs- and I move from back of the stage to 'front and center' as a lead vocalist. In our time together, we drink 5,000 pints of Guinness (I know- you thought that was impossible ha ha), and explore l.s.d. Three years later we are still together. I'm twenty-one, going to yoga class, and busking on Grafton Street. Busking is a term used to describe a person performing music on the street. My boyfriend is recording an album with a popular artist in Wales, and invites me to stay for a while. A Rock & Roll-Yoga Lifestyle, a goat, and a flat rock (perhaps a vortex) in Wales ignites my first Kundalini experience...

Before we go on, let me explain something. Some of you have responded to this post, to me personally by stating "how can you be 'spiritual' while drinking beer, smoking hash and taking l.s.d. You are setting a bad example etc." Remember this blog is called Confessions of a Spiritual Apprentice. Some folks think this particular story takes away from my credibility as a spiritual teacher, versus gaining me some pedestal. Some come from a background where social drinking and drugs were the norm; as was my life growing up in Ireland. It doesn't make us bad people, nor does it stand to make our stories of spiritual transformation invalid. It is truth. Please humor me as I paint a picture of 5,000 pints of Guinness!..  

One's past inevitably leads to one's present. In my stories, I stumble onto a path of spiritual studies while 'socializing' in the above fashion. A warrior is allowed to have a past-we all do. I know reiki masters and spiritual teachers with great integrity who have come from heavy drug addiction, or an unpopular past-time (to some) such as stripping etc. This does not take anything away from their credibility. In fact this may allow teachers  a wider spectrum of compassion and understanding, as they hold space for students of similar backgrounds. This is how enlightenment works (sometimes). I do not advocate my route of experience to be the way for others to follow. I merely offer a colorful palate to reflect upon.


While visiting in Wales I have plenty of downtime. I practice yoga and meditation daily, atop a flat rock away from the recording studio and cottage area. A friendly goat accompanies me, and continues to visit each day.  I decide he is a time traveller goat- because one moment he is not there at all, and the next he is standing less than three feet away. I am never startled, but more impressed by his quiet passage and posture. His ability to hold 'standing goat pose' for two hours (minimum) is encouraging. I attempt to copy his stillness while balancing on one leg in Vriksasana/Tree Pose.

On the final evening of my visit, we (my boyfriend, the band, and the record producer) walk through pitch black dirt roads to the local pub. It is here I realize just how far out in the wild we are. This tiny town has less than two hundred inhabitants. There are no street-lamps, few cars, and no lights shining from a far and away city I can see, no matter what direction I look. I enjoy having a pint (which often means having at least five over the duration of pub-time. This is warm up for the afters. The 'afters' are the drinks you drink after the pub closes!

Back at the cottage we blast Oasis on a 'kicking' stereo system (remember it's the early 90's) and begin the afters with tall cans of luke warm Heinekin and cigarettes, while the guys make hash joints. These band mates are crazy drunk! There is much horse-play and laughter accompanied by dancing on the pool table. I am inebriated and can barely get up to pee. In a drunken~stoned haze I wonder about my goat friend. I leave early tomorrow morning, before my usual visit to the flat rock. Maybe I won't see him again. I decide I must make an escape from the craziness of this mini party and go out into the wild to see my goat one last time. I duck away and push at the heavy wooden door sloppily. I don't remember it being this hard to open, but then again I'm plastered. I check to see if it's locked and it's not. I gain all my strength and push the door so hard I end up falling to the ground on the other side of it. At this moment Alice in Wonderland has nothing on me.

A staggered fall pushes me to the ground. I lay helpless as the door slams shut behind me. It's hard to focus when your dizzy drunk... and why is it so dark out here? I cannot lift my head, or even feel where my head is in relation to my body. Maybe I have slipped through some wormhole to an unknown land.  Just then I hear a blur of music and shouting from inside the cottage. Feeling relieved I peel my face and palms from the gravel and leaves I lay upon. Momentarily I wonder if I should find the magic door again and go back inside. But wait. What about the goat? He needs me to say goodbye. Gathering my warrior power, I decide I have come too far to turn back, and make my way to the flat rock. I crawl on hands and knees. Using my inner-compass, I slowly navigate the way.

In heavy darkness I sense the goat is nowhere to be found, but I decide to sit atop my special rock anyway. Out of breath and partially exhausted, I do my best to sit up tall and perform a lazy half lotus pose. Just as my foot comes into place, I am transported to another realm where sobriety rules. I am no longer tired, out of breath or  drunk. In fact, every part of my body is now turned on and tuned in- to another part of myself that I find hard to describe because I have never felt this before. A strange tingle at the bottom of my spine causes me to I close my eyes and sit a little taller. A swooping of circular energy begins to swirl around my body. The swirling is accompanied by a deep and rhythmical ‘voom, voom, voom, voom’. The sound gets louder and louder. I feel my hair being blown around and my clothes are flapping in the windy reverberation of this sound. With closed eyes I decide a helicopter has approached and is now hovering above me. This can be the only explanation for this madness. I open my eyes to view the insanity of this chopper. At the precise moment I open my eyes, there is no sound, no wind, no chopper- and no propelling energy. I close my eyes again, and the sounds and feelings return. This time a deep vibration at the base of my spine begins to travel upwards. As it does, I feel the rotation of this helicopter energy swell up around me and through my spine. The vibration moving up my spine becomes more and more intense. It feels like I could possibly be swooped upward into the eye of this energy hurricane.

I again open my eyes. This causes a ‘pause’ to the surge of energy moving up my spine, and it also stops the swirling winds and humming sounds that encircle me. I quickly look around for my goat in this darkness. 'Maybe he knows what's going on'. I think to myself. I close my eyes for the final time, and the 'voom, voom, voom, voom' noise becomes so loud- I feel it (the only way I can describe it is-) pierce me. It's like when I got my nose or nipple pierced, except this piercing is happening on an invisible plane I can feel surging inside and outside of my body. The energy continues moving up my spine, and with a crack- breaks through the top of my head. As it does, the swooping wind and blowing noise that once surrounded and filled me up- finally stops. As it does, I open my eyes again and softly fall sideways. My face gently meets with the cooling smoothness of the flat rock. Again? I say out loud in a humorous tone, remarking on my ability to fall more than once on this evening. I then lay in stillness for some time and begin to quietly sob. I touch the crown of my head, where the energy whirlwind broke through me, and feel the bump from diving into the shallow end (see blog post entitled Shallow End) of the pool at the age of ten.

Five years later while working at the Bodhi Tree Bookstore, I share my helicopter/whirlwind/spinal shock experience with a fellow employee who responds; “That, my friend was the Kundalin rising in you!” He then tracked down several passages from a variety of metaphysical and spiritual books and told me to "Read". While they all certainly reflected similar experiences to mine, not one of them mentioned anything about a goat.~ Om © Tuesday May Thomas 2013



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© Tuesday May Thomas 2013

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Shallow End


Shallow End
(c)TuesdayMayThomas

I got such gluff about my weight when I was a kid. Anytime I would jump in the pool during summer, all the kids would scream and run for cover because they complained I was a ‘big fat whale’. Apparently my belly-flops caused them to get splashed, even though they were already wet from swimming.

One day I felt confident diving into the shallow end of my new babysitter's pool. I was over 5'5 and the shallow end was only 2 foot deep. I dove straight in, smacked my head on the bottom- and blacked out. My poor babysitter was un-nerved. She said they pulled me from the pool and I was out cold for ten minutes. I was apparently breathing, yet lifeless. It was 1980. People didn't call ambulances or 911 the way they do these days. I was a kid with a concussion. Happens all the time, right? I figure the concussion was an attunement of sorts. A seventh chakra awakening that came early on.

 The only reason why I had a babysitter and got a concussion by diving into the shallow end of the pool was because of that weird phone call; which I still say sounded like my step-sister's husband, Miller (See previous blogpost entitled 'Latch Key Kid'). (c)TuesdayMayThomas




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Sunday, July 21, 2013

Latch Key Kid




Latch Key Kid
                                                              (c)TuesdayMayThomas

For two years, at the ages of 8 through 9, I was a latchkey kid- meaning my parents dropped me off to school in the morning with my bike and I made my way the 4 miles home by bicycle, not seeing them again until they returned home by 10.30pm at night. 

I had a house key that my mom safety pinned to what ever shirt I was wearing on any given day. I would let myself in after school, watch tv, do my homework and make my own dinner. At that time mom was married to Ned, who had two children from his previous marriage. Sometimes they stayed over on the weekend, but Monday through Friday I was on my own. Mom and Ned worked in Studio City- many miles away from our home in San Gabriel.

One afternoon, around 3pm- hours before my parents would return from work- I answered the phone to a familiar voice. I thought it was my step-sister’s husband, ‘Miller’. The voice said a long drawn out “Hi.” As if he knew who I was, and because I thought I knew who he was, I said “Hi” back. “What cha doin’?” asked the male voice. “Oh nothing- you know I’m supposed to be doing homework, but the movie Superman is on right now- so I’m gonna watch that first.” “Bad girl.” Responded the voice. I thought that was weird because Miller never said ‘bad girl’ to me before, nor had I ever heard him say that phrase. I shrugged it off and continued answering a string of yes or no questions the voice asked me about my day at school. 

Next, the Miller voice asked me what I was wearing, to which I described my overalls and grey slip on tennis shoes. That question was followed by the male voice asking me: “What color panties are you wearing?” I paused, feeling an odd buzzing in my stomach and hung up the phone. I knew something was wrong with what Miller, or the voice started to ask me. I counted to ten and then called my mom at work and told her what happened. The very next day I had a baby-sitter with a sister who had a pool where I later got a concussion.(c)TuesdayMayThomas

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Thursday, July 11, 2013

Physical Paralysis aka 'The Grey'



Physical Paralysis aka 'The Grey' 
©TuesdayMayThomas

I began experiencing the ‘grey’ while living in Ireland at the age of sixteen. It’s that place where I’m not asleep and not awake, but somewhere in between. For me, the grey occurs at random intervals of about eight times a year. When in the grey, my body becomes frozen, to the point where I can only blink or move my eyeballs. Even if I can muster the strength to open my mouth slightly, my voice is nonexistent. Any initiation of physical movement on my part is met by great opposition – it's as if my body is stuck in cement, or held firmly still by oppressive forces that like to watch.

In the past, the grey has often been accompanied by the visit of one or more beings. The experiences are often stressful, as they are conducted against my will. The grey comes as I am drifting from wakefulness to sleep, that’s why I call it the ‘grey’- because I’m not awake; (white), and not asleep; (black), but rather locked within the grey which lies in between. The grey starts as vibration, akin to a humming sensation that starts in my feet and works its way to the top of my head. For years I have tried to figure out what actual force paralyzes my body- I realize now that it’s the humming that has the power to do so. It slowly washes over me, locking me into its grip as it goes, and I am left like an ant stuck in thick molasses. I have learned that I can successfully disband the hum if I catch it at the very beginning, when it starts to slip its way into me, but sometimes its too late. When I do catch it early enough, I can overturn the humming that paralyzes with my sheer will, and upon doing so, can eventually slip back into a normal sleep- untouched by the grey.

My ‘training’ of grey visits over the years has awarded me the ability to stay present and recall afterwards, all that has been exchanged. In the past- it would suck me under like a huge wave, forcing me to swallow its waters. I would resurface shaking, anxious and paranoid that my visitors were still watching me. Who they were exactly, I do not know. During grey visits, they fling and float my body ruthlessly around my bedroom against my will. It seems the most terrifying experiences I have had with the grey occurred over the years of my early twenties when I was living in Ireland.

One evening I had gotten into bed at around 2am and just as my body relaxed I felt the grey’s hum arrive. At this time, I did not know that I could ward it off at the beginning of its visit- I would lay still and let the energy have its way with me, a vulnerable and cowardly victim I was. Once it had set its teeth in- and I realized I was under its control- then I would attempt to foolishly free myself from its unbending grip- with zero victory. 

On this grey visit, I soon felt the presence of many beings surrounding my bed, I heard their footsteps on the floor but unable to turn my head- and barley able to move my eyes, I could not validate the beings' company by sight in the darkness of my room. It felt that they stood a mere two to three feet in height. I could hear the squelchy sounds of their body’s limbs as they shifted around me, repositioning themselves as I lay helpless in my bed. I was in high fight or flight mode, and could feel my adrenals on overdrive- but I was paralyzed and my energy turned to amplified panic and then to absolute terror as they began to quickly and sloppily levitate my body upwards. I tried to turn my head to the side as my torso collided with the ceiling. I could literally feel the small pebbles of 'ceiling-spackle' sprinkle over my face as I desperately tried to close my eyes to avoid their fall. Next- the visitors lowered my body down and began spinning me around in a circle. At first they spun me slowly. I used this time to try and loosen the reigns of this invisible force. It was as if someone was holding my feet together in the middle of the room and swinging me around. As they spun me around, I remember thinking - ‘There’s my bookshelf, window, closet, poster of Jimi Hendrix, me in my bed- and my bedroom door. 

I attempted to reach my arm out to grip my bookshelf as it passed my sight repetitively. But my physical strength was no match for this supernatural presence. I became exhausted with attempting to move my arm and gave up all desire to fight against it- at that point I was dropped down into my physical body and bed. I landed with what felt like a ‘thump’- like I was dropped from several feet above. Next I remember a very long filmy and silvery arm reaching across my body, followed by a choir of small feet scuffling. I soon came back into my body and did not go back to sleep that night. I went downstairs, turned all the lights on and sat wide-eyed in a freakishly paranoid state all night.

Twenty-five years on, I sense when the grey is coming from a dark, or hungry realm and stop it at will. When the grey visits from the light realms, I can choose to surrender and engage with it, then we fly- beyond this dimension- she carries me and I trust her. Thank You- the teacher of the grey. Hum
©TuesdayMayThomas


(c)TuesdayMayThomas

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

GURU-itis



GURU-itis
                                                      (c)TuesdayMayThomas


The phenomena of ‘Guru-itis’ happens when

a student places their teacher on a high pedestal, to be

later deeply disturbed by the realization of just how human

their teacher is. The student at once realizes how much 

they have come to identify the world, and themselves through 

the eyes of their teacher.


Relieving, and healing ‘Guru-itis’ usually leads to a

‘breakdown-breakthrough’ as depicted by the “Tower” card

of most tarot decks. The student sheds skins grown over

 time through taking on the ‘hide’ of their teachers, and they may 

crash-land while  coming back into alignment with their true self. 


This process can be earth shattering as everything a student grows to 

trust and feel secure in evaporates from sight.  Perceptions shift and in 

coming back to oneself, what once mystified you, leaves you 

altered and dismantled. 



There is an un-learning of all you have 

learned and a reconnection phase with ones 

higher self, as the 'teacher within' comes to 

its power. (Different from someone out side 

of the self, like your guru having all the 

'power'.) 



This process can not be rushed, as it is quite a 

delicate and beautiful initiation. 



The student becomes their own master by peeling out

'truths' from previous teachings- making them their 

own by way of reconstructing the language and 

applications used.  


The refining and redefining of teachings bestowed unto the 

student by their 'Guru', in conjunction with the teachings of 

their own higher self comes into a light of  its own beauty. 

The Guru's job is done. A teacher is born.  (c)TuesdayMayThomas




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Friday, June 7, 2013

The Invisible(s)


The Invisible(s)
(c)TuesdayMayThomas

I recall conducting private lectures from my bedroom at the age of eight years old. I would line up all the chairs of the house into a horseshoe shape and sit my stuffed animals throughout the seats, leaving space for my invisible friends who would inhabit the remaining chairs. My family laughed and called them ‘make believe’, but I knew better, I knew they were real.

I’d set up my chalkboard and draw diagrams while interpreting one of my mothers many books on UFO’s and the paranormal. My favorite book to read from was entitled “Psychic Sciences”. It included chapters on dream interpretation, palmistry, potions, the divining of playing cards and more! At this young age I was intrigued by a world that I new lye just beyond the one I saw.

I later checked books out from the library and recall being fascinated with accessing the ability to move things with my mind. Around the same time of life I was facilitating lectures with 'The Invisibles', I used to lay on my belly in bed with the covers pulled over my head. I would calm my mind, breathe deeply (as suggested in the books I read) and focus my energy into moving the pencil or eraser I had laid in front of me. I found the items would slowly move. At the time, this seemed like a purposeful practice to pursue- as I felt I would use it later in life. 

I used to wonder how telekinesis’ worked. How did the object know I was talking to it? How did it receive the signals I was sending? How could I move something with my mind? What was in the space in between, that connected me to the object?
(c)TuesdayMayThomas



(c)TuesdayMayThomas