During the ongoing journey of the Kundalini Yoga series, we move through the each of the chakras rising the energy up through the lower chakras into the higher chakras. The Heart begins the first of the upper chakras. Breathing with the energy to enter the heart chakra , I could see the energy in each of the lower chakras was strong. I moved from the root chakra into the creative chakra and up into the power chakra where it became a bright ball of energy with red and yellow and orange. I could hear a sound like a deep base drum beat pulsating and as the sound moved upward towards the heart I could see a thin plate of clear glass break apart as I moved into the heart chakra. A breakthrough!
I entered and could see the energy there was neutral, I could then feel the energy in my crown chakra move down to fill my heart with white light. During one of the asanas, I could feel my right hand begin to cramp. I was aware the energy was stuck there in my body, I was trying to hold onto to it and needed to let it go. I concentrated on letting the energy release through my palm and the cramp in my hand began to ease. I became aware of a long held body stance of trying to protect myself by clenching my fist. I remembered waking up at night sometimes to find I had clenched fists. It was time to let go of the fear and anger and the need to protect myself, and trust in energy of the heart once more.
In the ending class meditation, I entered the temple of the heart chakra, in my vision I could see a flock of white doves take flight as I entered the space. I approached the temple and became aware that it looked like the white house. At first look, I thought the politics of the presidential candidates race had taken over my life! Then upon contemplation I realized the qualities of the heart chakra is a space of sacred law, truth and justice.
I entered the temple of the White House in my heart, and found a long hall where at the far end sat a man with a safron robe and bald head, and had the appearance of a buddhist monk. As I walked closer, the man turned to greet me, I was surprised to find it was my father.
My father was talking to me telling me things, that as usual, I did not want to hear. I did not trust him and I found it difficult to see him in this role as a Buddhist monk. Many times he and I had argued about religion and our differences in religious belief. He from a perspective of an Evangelist Christian and I from a perspective of Nicherin Diashonin Buddhism. My father at 83, is now at the end of his life struggling with lung cancer and having undergone chemotherapy, now has a bald head and the appearance of a shaven headed monk.
My father took me over to show me a long white marble table that had many pictures laid out, the pictures were of my ancestors. Among the pictures was a photo of my great grandmother on my grandmothers side. My father was telling me that this great grandmother carried Native American blood. Then lying next to the pictures was a large ancient book that was old and worn, and inside it carried the sacred names of all the medicine peoples of all the tribes who have walked this earth. I looked down and also found lying next to the book on the table was a medicine pipe. The pipe was being given to me and the knowledge contained inside the book was the legacy my father was handing down to me. It was here that my father and I could always meet without disagreement, it was here in the Native way of being that we always understood one another, Aho!
I know from this meeting of one another in the heart chakra, when his time comes to pass, that we will each be more at peace with one another, and I am grateful to my father for pointing to my ancestors and the legacy they have left me.