The human heart is a highly underestimated instrument. It’s quite famous for pumping blood – sometimes uncomfortably fast or slow. It is indirectly responsible for countless love songs and romance novels. It is the source of unforgettable emotional stimulation, i.e., the ecstatic falling-in-love, and the somewhat less agreeable heart-break (falling-out-of-love). And it is universally notorious for the part it plays in the guaranteed end, when, with dramatic finality, it stops, to usher in the mysterious state of death. But what do we really know about our precious hearts?
Without getting too esoteric, there is a simple way of getting to really know your best friend, that rhythmic pal in your chest that channels life and love. The first important step is to establish the actual connection with your self. That sounds like a lot to do, especially if you’ve read countless spiritual self-help manuals. In fact it is easy, quick, and infinitely enjoyable, and happens spontaneously when a certain benevolent energy, designed and provided exclusively for that special purpose, eagerly rises from the ‘sacred bone’ at the bottom of your spine to the fontanel bone at the top of the head. But don’t take my word for it; try it for your self. (For the Web-disoriented, that was a hint to click on the underlined phrase, try it 😉 )
Now, once you’ve gotten to that all-important link (no pun intended) with your self through the awakening of kundalini and it’s subsequent ascent up to the sahasrara chakra, there opens up for you a whole new realm of hither-to unexpected possibilities. You will inevitably find, through the simple, regular practice of sahaja yoga meditation, the proof in the universal pudding that you are much, much more than you ever guessed you are. As the limited human attention steps out into the endless fresh air of pure, unlimited Spirit (as your kundalini spontaneously opens the seventh center at the top of your head), an amazing thing happens. Your heart, a normally clouded mirror, starts to clear and catch more reflection of that joyful sky or sea of absolute love that, although supporting all life, is usually just beyond our perception. Through the carefully designed instrument of your central nervous system, your spiritual modem, you get a first concrete glimpse of the Divine Internet. Don’t be surprised to discover that there is no noise and chaotic chatter there: that connection will fill you with beautiful Silence, the source of all creativity. And That is your very own.
Oh, yeah – this was supposed to be about joy and emotional intelligence. But reading about joy is about as en-joyable as being told about a delicious club sandwich – it just doesn’t hit the spot. Joy has to be lived – and emotional intelligence inevitably follows. Try it. You’ll love it.
(Spirituality = Inherent Joy. It is not a commodity to be bought or sold or in any way controlled by a third party! It can only be a direct connection.)
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(I just finished writing a two hundred page novel about a little boy who journeys back in time to ancient India — now I’ll go work on the drawings, steeped in that magical atmosphere)
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One sultry evening, a long, cool black man showed up introducing himself as John Lee Hooker’s brother – they were in town for an upcoming concert. He took out his guitar and played to the awestruck gathering. Unfortunately, I sat down nearby and pounded on my bongos. Despite the gentleman’s encouraging smiles in my direction, my wine-drenched mind just wouldn’t allow me to keep pace. (The following morning, an acutely annoyed banjo-playing hippy, who had also tried accompanying the star guest in the park, threw a beer bottle at me when I picked up my bongos to tap along.) This was my early introduction to a liberal, but not entirely liberating, life-style. I went in and out of hippy circles over the following decade, eventually cutting off my freak-flag (long hair) and escaping out of alcohol and drug abuse. (When my fourteen-year-old son recently put his hand on my shoulder and declared, ‘wouldn’t it be great if we could go back to the sixties!’ I couldn’t keep my lip and eyebrows from curling in honest resentment to the sentiment.)
Self-Help 