The Day the Energy Rose Through Me

There are moments that divide your life into two parts.

There is the person you were before the moment happened, and the person who must learn how to live after it.

My kundalini awakening was one of those moments.

Before it happened, my intuitive abilities were already open, but were becoming stronger. I would see events taking place across town involving my children, even though I was not physically with them. The scenes appeared in my mind with surprising clarity.

I saw people who had died.

Sometimes their faces floated across my vision. Sometimes they spoke. I privately thought of them as talking heads.

The experiences were interesting.

I had grown up Catholic. Later, my parents became born-again Christians. I had inherited a belief in the spiritual world, but I had not been taught what to do when the spiritual world started speaking directly to me.

I did not know whether I was receiving a gift, experiencing a warning, or losing my grip on the reality I knew.

When you experience something outside your understanding, you search for the safest door into the unknown.

For me, that door was the Association for Research and Enlightenment in Virginia Beach, the organization connected to Edgar Cayce and his work. Cayce’s teachings felt spiritually grounded to me. His readings often included references to the Bible, health, spiritual growth, and personal responsibility.

I trusted that foundation.

I called what I remember as their helpline and told the woman what had been happening.

I explained that I was seeing, hearing, and feeling things I could not explain. I asked her what I should do.

She listened and suggested that I schedule a reading with an intuitive practitioner associated with the organization.

I had never had a reading before. I was nervous, skeptical, and hopeful at the same time.

She gave me several names. I felt drawn to a woman who lived in Kentucky. I did not know why I chose her. I only knew her name held my attention.

This was during the age of dial-up internet, AOL Messenger, and landline telephones. There were no video calls where you could study someone’s face and decide whether you felt safe. There was a computer screen, a telephone, and the quiet instinct telling me to contact her.

We arranged a reading.

The price felt like a serious expense at that time in my life. Still, I wanted answers more than I wanted the money. I hoped she would explain what was happening and tell me I was going to be all right.

On the day of the appointment, I sat in my office chair in front of the computer and called her from my landline.

She asked me to wait quietly while she shuffled her cards.

I heard the soft movement of the cards through the telephone.

Then my body began to vibrate.

The sensation started in my hips and pelvic area. At first, I tried to understand it. Within seconds, it became too strong to analyze.

It felt as though a jackhammer had been turned on inside my body.

The vibration began moving upward. It traveled through my pelvis and torso, gathering force as it climbed. I had never felt energy move through my body in this way. I did not know where it was going or what would happen when it reached my head.

When it reached my neck and jaw, the force intensified.

My jaw began vibrating so violently that it felt as if a dental instrument were shaking inside my mouth. Then something lifted me from the chair.

I felt myself rise about an inch above the seat.

Tears poured from my eyes. I was not crying from sadness or pain. My body was responding to an intensity it had never experienced.

I could not speak.

All I could do was surrender to what was happening.

The energy continued upward until it reached my head. Then it seemed to pass through

the top of my skull and disappear.

The room became still again.

Through the telephone, I heard the reader calling to me.

“Hello? Are you there?”

I gathered myself and answered.

“Yes. I’m here.”

I had no language for what had happened. I told her that her energy was strong because it was the only explanation I could form.

We continued with the reading.

Every so often, I felt a sharp electrical surge in another part of my body. It might strike my arm, my leg, or my stomach. Each sensation lasted only a second. It reminded me of a TENS unit set at its highest level.

When the call ended, I still did not understand what had taken place.

I had never heard the term kundalini awakening. I had not been trying to activate spiritual energy. I had not been following a particular practice or attempting to reach an altered state.

It had happened on its own.

Years later, I read about kundalini energy. In several spiritual traditions, it is described as an energy that rests near the base of the spine. When awakened, it rises through the body toward the crown chakra at the top of the head.

I recognized the description immediately.

My mind had not understood what was happening, but my body had lived every moment of it.

I also learned that many spiritual teachers advise people to approach kundalini practices with care. Experiences differ, and an intense awakening can leave a person feeling physically, emotionally, or psychologically overwhelmed.

I do not claim to know what every person’s experience means. I know only what the experience meant in my own life.

Something moved through me that day.

Something opened.

Afterward, I began seeing more visions. My sensitivity grew stronger. I felt energy with greater intensity, and I knew things I had no logical way of knowing.

The world did not become simpler. It became deeper.

The awakening also brought old psychological and emotional pain to the surface. The parts of myself I had buried did not remain silent. They wanted to be seen, understood, and healed.

At first, this felt unfair.

I thought a spiritual awakening would lift me above my pain. Instead, it placed me directly in front of it.

I began to understand that healing was not about escaping my history. Healing required me to meet it with the awareness I had been given.

For years, I had pushed down the feelings I could not explain. I had tried to fit myself into a world that often felt confusing and unforgiving. Now, everything I had hidden was rising alongside this new spiritual awareness.

The difference was that I no longer felt powerless in front of it.

I felt connected to something larger than my fear.

I began trusting that I would receive what I needed as I moved forward. Sometimes guidance came through an intuitive feeling. Sometimes it arrived through a person, a dream, a vision, or a meaningful coincidence at precisely the right moment.

The universe and I seemed to enter into a quiet partnership.

I would take one step toward healing, and life would meet me there.

I would ask a question, and an answer would appear in an unexpected place.

I would reach the edge of what I understood, and something inside me would say, “Keep going.”

My kundalini awakening did not make me enlightened. It did not remove my wounds or give me a life free from doubt.

It began a relationship between my human pain and my spiritual life.

It showed me that the parts of myself I had struggled to accept were not obstacles standing between me and spiritual growth. They were the places where my growth needed to begin.

That day, the energy rose through my body and left through the top of my head.

Yet in another sense, it stayed.

It stayed in the way I saw the world.

It stayed in the way I listened to my intuition.

It stayed in every question I became brave enough to ask.

Most of all, it stayed in the growing awareness that I was participating in a life

filled with meaning, connection, and guidance.

The world I had never understood was beginning to speak my language.

For the first time, I was learning how to answer.