Written May 2017
Feeling well enough to share now.
Several years ago I put a video on youtube called ‘Widow Centauri is sick’ and I was very ill at the time. Had been for a number of years. I had every medical test possible done, save for a spinal tap — I was perfectly healthy. I had my fucking chromosomes tested, got to be on a first name basis with the folks who operated the largest MRI machine in North America, and flew across the globe to say goodby to my dear mother — I was certain I was going to die. I was in that much pain, constantly. My nervous system was sped up. I was getting too much information in. The lights were too bright, the sounds were too loud, the smells were so strong and overwhelming, the slightest brush against my skin felt like I was being burned with hot coals. The sensations of fire and electricity shot up and down my spine. The way the world looked to me was tipped over at a 45 degree angle. Any sort of light was blinding. I had to have an escort to go outside in the daytime. I thought I was a vampire. I thought I had MS. I thought the doctors were missing something pretty fucking obvious, but still I had a perfect bill of health. They tried giving me lot of different medications and I tried most of them, until they wanted to put me on a pill that was going to make me stupid. I was still trying to finish graduate school and going on a stupid pill seemed like a good way to not finish my degree. I stopped taking everything. I finished school. I moved to New Orleans to drink myself to death. I wasn’t interested in being a lab rat, if nothing was wrong then I was gonna go out having a party. Only it backfired. I got better. Like a lot better. All of my symptoms went away. I was convinced I just needed some stress relief, or that I was allergic to New England, or that whiskey is a preservative. Oddly I think I was onto something there with the whiskey. I was drinking to kill myself, that is a lot of whiskey. I was drunk most of the time. For a couple years. I forgot I had been sick. I was just drunk and in the sunshine. It was great. I forgot I wanted to die. I began to wonder why I was drinking so much. I decided to stop drinking for seven months and look at my life without the whiskey. Maybe just get a clear perspective. I haven’t had anything to drink in two months. But I remembered about a month ago why I had been drinking like that. All of my symptoms started coming back. The light is too bright.
My best friend suggested I have a little whiskey, but I don’t think a little is gonna turn my nerves system off. Everyone says it will pass and that it will be ok. The thing is that I figured out what was wrong. And I guess I didn’t expect it to come back without the booze. I really had managed to forget how fucking miserable I was when my nervous system was taking too much in. It really is overwhelming. But I don’t think it’s bad. It’s just a lot to process.
I have been practicing yoga for almost 20 years. Every day. About seven years ago I had an experience that wish I had different words for. I had a kundalini awakening. If you have heard of kundalini, you probably think this is wonderful stuff. It’s some sort of super human evolved energy that lives dormant in your spinal system. The idea is that when you have matured spiritually and cleansed and purified and prepared you will become an evolved subject and your kundalini serpent power will awaken. But what a lot of the hype out there fails to mention is that if you are just some hedonistic twat standing on one foot in a bikram class so you can control your temper and look sexy, if you fail to mature spiritually and you accidentally awaken this power inside yourself, and you don’t know anyone who has every actually encountered it, even though you have been surrounded by yogis who claim to be in search of this exact thing, — basically if you are a shitty person who wakes up your dormant kundalini energy it might make you go insane. It might hurt a lot. It might open up your sensory perceptions — I mean for fuck sake they call it enlightenment — you might start to see gods and have mystic visions and start to chant Hare Krishna, unexpectedly. And if you don’t have a purified body and mind all of the super psychic energy flooding into your system can really fuck you up. But no one tells you this. No one at all. The American heathy yoga groups would like to market yoga as a series of asanas that you do for physical health. They would like to hide the very religious core of yoga, cause Americans don’t like god, but they do like a cute bum.
So here I am standing on one foot in a 130 degree room for 15 years, staring at my third eye. I imagine if you stare at your fat belly and lack focus you might not have any reason to expect a dormant Devine energy to rise up your spine and jolt your system, like a bolt of lightening. It’s not that I didn’t know it was a thing. I had gone out of my way to practice haha yoga without a spiritual compound, because I didn’t really want any god with my nice looking ass. But it doesn’t work that way. Haha yoga asanas have been developed by mystic yogis over a course of thousands of years. I can’t just say ‘hold the onions’ and leave the religion out of the path to god. What the fuck was I thinking? I guess I was thinking it was an exercise, I believed what the yoga propaganda told me to believe. And I guess that most folks are not hyper intense scorpios who will put their mat right in from, in a bikram class, find the hottest part of the room, stare right into their third eye — and be fool enough to expect that I wasn’t gonna conger up something. Yeah, I was acting a dingbat who just needed a good workout and yoga felt so right. It felt so right because it was connecting me to a divine energy, something I grew up curiously avoiding. I grew up in a family who was too smart to allow the repressive reality of organized religion control them. I grew up with a mentality of freedom and religion don’t mix. I went to catholic school but only cause it was a good education. We went to mass, to blend in with the neighbors. When I prayed at night I prayed to wake up as a woman with dark brown skin. I joke that my beautiful ass was Jesus listening to my prayers. Y et somehow I went to yoga church and just because they didn’t have any actual mention of divinity, it was a yoga without chanting, it was a yoga that intentionally over stimulated the sensory system. It was not obviously a yoga church. But I took my body in there and I offered it to the gods and goddesses and I stood up front like the most devout church lady and then one day my kundalini woke up.
If anyone around me had known what was happening I might have saved myself a decade of pain and suffering. But this kundalini is rare, and hard to wake up and I was not going to the yoga church where I was being purified. Plus almost all of the things that have been written on kundalini have been about how beautiful it is. Nothing I was able to find in my initial search for answers about my physical health pointed toward a violent and painful kundalini rising. It was hidden, like the religion in my yoga.
But I had several years to read. Honestly when your health condition becomes dormant, when pain stops, that is a much easier time to ask ‘what was all that pain about’ — so I read everything I could. And I started meditating. And as soon as my system had dried out enough, bam! All the symptoms are back. At least I know what it is. Yes, I am a vampire for now, sort of. No I’m not sick with something that a doctor can cure. I’m pretty sure the only way I can cure it is to push the envelope — I need to begin a deep practice seeped in the religious elements of yoga. I need this kundalini to be the beautiful thing she is claimed to be. I did a lot of the things wrong. I don’t have a guru. I don’t even have a yoga buddy. I was kicked out of the bikram store (again) for problems related to my kundalini — I move slowly cause I’m in a lot of pain. This isn’t the first bikram store to boot me. I’m practicing at home now, alone. I like it a lot. I spend several hours a day doing asanas, mostly to ease the pain. But I need very much to begin a pranayama practice and I don’t really know where to begin. I’m reading and looking at the situations others have had with kundalini waking up when the body and mind are not fully prepared — I think I am either about to turn into a mystic or a rambling old bag lady under the bridge. I’m not sure they are different. I am terrified of what I have done. I’m scared that I might fuck this up more, that my situation might get worse, that I’m two deep breaths from having time and space collapse on me in a public place all alone with no one to catch me. In a culture that has no place for suffering misguided mystics, a land where insanity is something that you might suffer from, but actually seeing supernatural things is not something most folks want to believe in — it is easier to label people crazy. I’m flirting with insanity. I have to make this vampire like suffering stop and I know how to do it. Fuck if I don’t already think I’m crazy.
My momma always told me there was one particular feature that determined if you were eccentric or crazy — money. Currently I’m a little low on revenue. I’m also low on friends cause a sober vampire just isn’t that popular. I have a wonderful space that I am about to open a yoga studio in, and two separate trainings I need to attend. I can’t really leave my house in the light. I know I need a baby sitter. I’m gonna call some folks I know who might not have anything better to do than help me move my kundalini to the crown of my head. I assume it will probably be a job for an eccentric sober friend who isn’t afraid of cops, strange looks on the street, yoga, gods or demons, and has fuck all going on in their life. I want to do this. I am going to do this. I am doing this. I really don’t want to be alone and in a dangerous spot when I drop into a religious trance and chant for several hours. I totally need someone on widow duty right now.