The Science of Yoga

remained in Ontario, attendees came from such places as Baltimore and San Francisco, New York and Pennsylvania. Not all were kundalites. But all had developed an interest in the subject and, most especially, its creative repercussions.
    For this annual meeting, the organizers put the focus on the personal stories, as suggested by the conference title: “Kundalini: Changing Lives from Within.” The speakers told of how the mystic fire had touched them and displayed the results in the form of songs and poems, meditations and paintings.
    The informal agenda seemed just as important. A table displayed kundalini books that were for sale, including nearly a dozen by Krishna. Perhaps most important, therelaxed atmosphere gave time for networking and comparing notes. It was a quiet place where people could talk about their experiences, their coping strategies, their dreams.
    Teri Degler, a writer who had profiled several of the assembled kundalites in her books, and who had undergone her own ecstasy of arousal, joked about how the word “kundalini” could be loosely rendered as their own peculiar brand of craziness: “Kind of Loonies.”
    A businessman told me how much he enjoyed the get-togethers and how he found it impossible to speak of his kundalini experience at work.
    “What would I say? ‘Hey, wait a second, guys. I’ve got a wind blowing up my back. ’ ”
    Paul Pond, a lean man of sixty-three, opened the program and ran it like a veteran. He joked a lot and had a deadpan style that kept the audience in high spirits. But his introductory tour of the kundalini horizon was dead serious. He touched on all the major issues—the sexual nature of the experience, the joys, the dangers, and the subtle repercussions. Standing at a white podium under the billowing tent, speaking into a microphone, Pond said kundalini awakenings seemed to be on the rise and that the wave could prove important in stabilizing the wobbly planet. “We need direction,” he said, “and that’s going to come from within.”
    Pond said historical researchers had shown that kundalini arousal tended to foster the creative fires and complimented the speakers for agreeing to speak frankly about their own experiences and struggles.
    His wife, Dale, described her own. She had been profiled by Degler in a book, Fiery Muse. It said Dale had been a shy woman who lacked a serious intellect when, two decades ago, she underwent a kundalini arousal that transformed her into a serious reader, a productive artist, and confident public speaker.
    At the podium, she reiterated those claims. “I did spontaneous art, spontaneous poetry,” Dale told the audience of her early days. “All the different parts of me were opening up.” The inner fire, she said, fostered a deep sense of inner cohesion and inspiration that—like the musical compositions of Tony Cicoria and the poetry of Gopi Krishna—seemed to come from nowhere. “I’d be crying, watching myself do art, and say, ‘Where did that come from? ’ ”
    Under the tent, speaker after speaker struck related themes. Neil Sinclair—the chairman of CyberTran International, a start-up in Rich- mond, California, that isseeking to create a highly ecological passenger railroad—stepped to the podium in sandals, white socks, and a flowered shirt. He told of how kundalini had struck in 1973 while he was a freshman at the University of California at Berkeley. The setting was a Halloween party. Sinclair had dabbled in yoga and meditation for many years. During the party, he retreated to an empty bed as his mind began to reel. He felt a release at the base of his spine followed by an upward sense of expansion.
    “It didn’t stop,” he told the audience. “A rush came up and I lost any sense of my body and I found myself immersed in an expanding sphere of ecstasy.” He called it “an orgasmic sensation” that seemed to engulf the universe.
    Sinclair cautioned the uninitiated to avoid thinking of kundalini as unmitigated bliss. “Gopi Krishna almost died twice,” he noted. “He was on the verge of insanity. Society is not there cheering you on. It’s very challenging.”
    He peppered his talk with readings from the poetry he began to write shortly after his awakening. He said the words tended to tumble into his head.
    A book of Sinclair’s poetry had just been published, titled The Spirit Flies Free: The Kundalini Poems. During a break, I bought a copy. It contained more than a hundred poems whose