[This is not about K. psychosis; it's about the differences between the
Kundalini process and psychosis.]
[Lee Sannella, M.D. Kundalini Experience. Lower Lake CA: Integral Publishing.]

Chapter 9
THE KUNDALINI CYCLE:
DIAGNOSIS AND THERAPY

Diagnostic Considerations

The clinical data at hand indicates a clear distinction between the
physio-kundalini complex and psychosis. These findings also furnish a
number of criteria for distinguishing between these two conditions. In some
of the cases presented in this book, we have seen that a schizophrenia-like
condition can result when the person undergoing the kundalini experience
receives negative feedback either through social pressure or through the
resistances created by earlier conditioning.
Evidence that these conditions are distinct and separate is
supplied particularly by two of my cases. The first is the case of the
female artist, which I outlined in Chapter 6. The other case is not
included in this book. It involved a person who became ''psychotic'' after
being confined to a mental institution for inappropriate behavior. Each of
them reported that during their stay in their respective mental
institutions they were quite sure that they (and several of the other
patients) could tell who among them were "crazy" and who were just "far-out
and turned on."
Possibly this is a situation where "it takes one to know one," and
a person whose own kundalini is active can intuitively sense the kundalini
state of another. This is of special interest, as such people could be
consulted when assistance is needed to decide which way
the balance lies between the two processes in any particular case (see
Appendix 2 on the Masts of India).
Clinicians usually have a finely tuned sense of what is psychotic.
For the most part, it is this sense for the "smell" of psychosis that tells
us if a patient is unbalanced or whether he or she is instead inundated
with more positive psychic forces. Also, trained clinicians generally have
a feeling for whether a patient is dangerous to himself or herself and to
others. Individuals who experience hostility or anger in the early phases
of kundalini awakening are in my experience rarely inclined to dramatize
their violent emotions.
Furthermore, those in whom the kundalini elements predominate are
usually much more objective about themselves and have an interest in
sharing their experiences and troubles. Those on the psychotic side tend to
be very oblique, secretive, and totally preoccupied with ruminations about
some vague but apparently significant subjective aspect of their experience
that they can never quite communicate.
My clinical data together with Bentov's model allows me to
highlight several more distinguishing features. Sensations of heat are
common in kundalini states but are rare in psychosis. Also very typical are
feelings of vibration or fluttering, tingling, and itching that move in
definite patterns over the body, usually in the sequence described earlier.
But these patterns may be irregular in atypical cases or in those who have
preconceived ideas of how the kundalini energies should circulate. In
addition to this, bright lights may be seen internally. There may be pain,
especially in the head, which arises suddenly and ceases equally suddenly
during critical phases in the process. Unusual breathing patterns are
common, as well as other spontaneous movements of the body. Noises such as
chirping and whistling sounds are heard, but seldom do voices intrude in a
negative way, as is the case in psychotic states. When voices are heard,
they are perceived to come from within and are not mistaken for outer
realities.
My clinical findings support the view that the kundalini force is
positive and creative. Each of my kundalini clients is now successful in
his or her own terms. They all report that they can handle stress more
easily and have become more relational. The classical cases indicate that
special capacities (known as siddhis or "powers"), as well as deep inner
peace, may result from the completion of the kundalini process. But in the
initial stages, stress induced by the experience itself, coupled with a
negative attitude from oneself or others, may be overwhelming and cause
severe imbalance.
Experience suggests that such cases are best approached with
understanding, strength, and gentle support. Earlier I described the case
of the writer whose spontaneous trances had disturbed him greatly. They
ceased altogether when I encouraged him to enter a trance state
voluntarily. By making a distinction between psychotic and psychically
active, I had communicated to him the attitude that his trances were valid
and meaningful. Because of my own acceptance of his experience, he was also
able to accept it. The trances ceased to control him as soon as he gave up
his resistance to them and their underlying forces.
Similarly, the female psychologist suffered from severe headaches,
which stopped as soon as she ceased trying to control the process,
accepting it instead. The pain, in other words, did not result from the
kundalini process itself but from the person's resistance to it. I suspect
this is true of all the negative effects of the physio-kundalini mechanism.
Symptoms caused by the physio-kundalini will disappear
spontaneously over time. Because we are dealing essentially with a
purificatory or balancing process, and since each person represents a
finite system, the process is self-limiting. Disturbances must also not be
viewed as pathological. They are, rather, therapeutic inasmuch as they lead
to a removal of potentially pathological elements.
The kundalini force arises spontaneously from deep within the
body-mind, and is apparently self-directing. Tension and imbalance thus
result not from the process itself but from conscious or subconscious
interference with it. Helping a person to understand and accept what is
happening to him or her may be the best we can do. Usually the process,
when left alone, will find its own natural pace and balance. However, if it
has already become too rapid or violent, my experience suggests that its
course can be moderated by introducing a heavier diet and vigorous exercise
and by suspending meditation.
Those in whom the physio-kundalini process is most readily
activated and in whom it is most likely to become violent and disturbing
are those with especially sensitive nervous systems - the natural psychics.
Many of my cases had had some kind of psychic experience prior to their
kundalini awakening. Natural psychics tend to find the physio-kundalini
experience so intense that they will not engage in the regular classical
meditation methods that commonly enhance the kundalini process. Sometimes,
if they do not wish to refrain from meditating altogether, they may adopt
some mild form of their own choosing. Much of their anxiety may be due to
misunderstanding and ignorance of the physio-kundalini process. Rather than
increasing their fear, one should obviously give them the knowledge and
confidence to allow the process to progress at the maximum comfortable,
natural rate.
Clearly, much could be accomplished by changing attitudes, first
in those experiencing the kundalini phenomenon, but ultimately in our
society as a whole. This would benefit all of us who need viable models in
our spiritual quest. Unfortunately, in our Western civilization, spiritual
values and attitudes are generally suppressed. Some other cultures are more
advanced in this regard, and they recognize the positive contribution made
by spiritually or psychically developed individuals. Thus, in Bali the
trance state serves an important adaptive function for the children. As
Richard Katz (1973) has shown, the African Bushmen use trance as a central
ritual that promotes social cohesion. I was informed by J. Scutch (1974)
that in South Africa a psychic condition, which Western psychiatry would
probably identify as an acute schizophrenic break, is a prerequisite for
initiation into the priesthood of one tribe. In the Himalayan countries,
trance mediums fulfill an important social function. Many more examples
could readily be given.
By contrast, how many creative people in our culture are suffering
because of diagnostic mistakes! I feel that the healing profession has a
special obligation to make every effort to correct these mistakes.
Recognition of the kundalini phenomenon as a nonpsychotic process is a part
of this. It is tragic that potentially charismatic folks like shamans,
trance mediums, and God-intoxicated individuals (similar to the Masts of
India) might actually find themselves in custodial care in our society.
Possibly there are many now who, despite their eccentricities, should be
released so that they can enrich our lives.
The problem is to identify them among the other inmates of our
mental institutions. Here Meher Baba's work with the Masts, as mentioned in
Appendix 2, might serve as a useful precedent (see Donking 1948). If it is
true, as I have already suggested, that "it takes one to know one," such
people could indeed be invaluable in our diagnosis and therapeutic support
of kundalini cases.
Of those undergoing the kundalini process without preparation, not
a few tend to feel quite insane, at least at times. By behaving normally
and keeping silent about their experience, they may avoid being labeled
schizophrenic, or being hospitalized, or sedated. But imagine their sense
of isolation and the suffering caused by their separation from others. We
must reach these people, their families, and the larger culture with the
information necessary to help them recognize their condition as a blessing,
not a curse. Certainly, we must no longer subject people in the midst of
this rebirth process to drugs or shock therapy - approaches which are poles
apart from creative self-development and spiritual maturation. Instead, we
must begin to acknowledge that these individuals, though they may be
confused and fearful, are already undergoing therapy from within - a
therapy that is far superior to any that modern medicine could administer
from without.

Kundalini as Therapy

Several of my kundalini cases are especially interesting because they serve
as support for my contention that the kundalini process can be looked upon
as being inherently therapeutic. A psychologist-writer was hospitalized for
three months thirty years ago. He had been diagnosed as suffering from a
psychotic break, characterized by disturbances in judgment, flight of
ideas, grandiosity, and over-activity. After that episode he was somewhat
unstable, suffering from a chronic mild depression. Nevertheless, he made
his living as a therapist, occasionally being very effective, but
constantly becoming involved in countertransference problems (that is,
over-involvement with his clients). At other times, he was unable to
provide for himself adequately.
In 1974 he became a disciple of Swami Muktananda, a master of
Siddha Yoga. He found that his stay at the Swami's Indian hermitage and the
contact with that adept and with other spiritual practitioners proved a
very potent therapy. Signs of kundalini awakening began to appear early in
his involvement with Swami Muktananda, and it led to, or at least was
accompanied by, a prodigious increase in productivity in his writing. He
also began to enjoy new depths in his interpersonal relationships and
gained a surer grasp on his life. I saw him frequently both before and
during this important period in his life and can attest to the dramatic
strengthening of his whole personality structure, character, and his ways
of dealing with the world, both inner and outer.
Another case, a female psychologist, now in her mid-fifties, had
been severely depressed for many years and had even made two serious
suicide attempts by overdosing on sleeping pills. She remained in a coma
for several days following each episode. Her only extended hospitalization
occurred prior to these suicide attempts, as a result of her depression
following the birth of her first child. For years she held a responsible
position as an administrator, and she was also a successful
psychotherapist. During this time she herself was undergoing psychotherapy,
including a classical psychoanalysis.
In 1972 this woman attended a meditation retreat during which she
spent many hours each day in meditation. Within a short time she began to
have spontaneous kundalini experiences. Subsequently she became a student
of Swami Muktananda. I got to know her in 1973. During the first year of
our acquaintance she was somewhat withdrawn and reserved. But later she
blossomed into a secure, intact, fun-loving person. She tells me that she
has not known a day of depression since. My observations confirm her
self-appraisal.
I recall four psychics, each of whom had been diagnosed as
suffering from some sort of convulsive disorder. In each case there was a
marked relief in symptoms and in their need for anti-convulsive medication
after finding and using their psychic talents. Some other creative pursuit
might have proven equally liberating. These four people chose to become
professional psychics, and although no claim is made, based on this
evidence, for a causal relationship between their new energy investment and
the amelioration of their symptoms, it is suggestive. I feel quite certain
that at a higher level of functioning, such as may become effective through
the kundalini process, there will accrue all kinds of benefits, including
better health and emotional balance.
Of course, as we have seen, the kundalini process can also be
disruptive. If left alone, a person may well suffer doubts and fears that
could easily be handled in a supportive environment like a spiritual
hermitage or monastery, where the disturbing side effects of a kundalini
awakening are rightly understood, accepted, and to some extent even
welcomed.
Without such a setting, however, those who experience this force
may react in a number of undesirable ways. Naive individuals may interpret
the experience as an inner change so profound and upsetting as to be a
convincing indication of loss of sanity. This is essentially what happened
in the case of the female artist and that of the actress described in
Chapter 6. Also in at least one instance (that of the middle-aged
housewife) the confusion and turmoil arising from a spontaneous kundalini
awakening led to psychic inflation and delusions of grandeur.
The female psychologist handled her inner disruption by becoming a
member of various groups, and by finding supportive teachers and
therapists. It was necessary for her to make use of these aids for a year
or more before she could continue on her own. The scientist, whose
understanding was even more adequate and whose situation was quite
supportive, was able to function by simply cutting down on the intensity of
his meditations.
It should be clear by now that physicians are well advised to be
alert for the symptom patterns of an active kundalini when making a
diagnosis. Neurologists with diagnostic problems mimicking pathological
conditions may gain valuable diagnostic clues by reviewing the patient's
meditation history. In this way they may delay or completely avoid harsh
and inappropriate diagnostic procedutes. Psychotherapists dealing with
hysterical overlays or psychotic reactions to kundalini awakening are
reminded that beneath the neurosis, or psychosis, a process is occurring
that is far beyond our ordinary understanding of psychopathology and of the
kind of ecstatic states described, for instance, by William James (1929).
In addition to psychotherapy, if indicated, I recommend that
persons suspected of kundalini problems be urged to consult someone with
experience in this area. Of course, selecting a helping person may be most
difficult. Unless the physician is experienced and has explored the
available resources, he or she may be unable to do more than recommend that
the patient seek out such an individual. In some cases it may be
appropriate to refer the patient to a spiritual teacher who is known to be
familiar with the kundalini phenomenon and may even, as was the case with
the late Swami Muktananda, be able to induce it by way of psychic
transmission.
I must, however, sound a word of caution here. I firmly believe
that methods designed specifically to hasten kundalini arousal, such as the
breath control exercises known as pranayama, are hazardous, unless
practiced directly under the guidance of a competent spiritual teacher, or
guru, who should have gone through the whole kundalini process himself or
herself. Deliberate practice of yogic breathing techniques may prematurely
unleash titanic inner forces for which the unprepared individual has no
means of channeling and control. The kundalini can be forced, but only to
one's own detriment.

Epilogue

In scientific circles it is something of a truism that many experiments
with surprising and unexplained outcomes remain unpublished, whereas those
that support favorite hypotheses get into print. In other words, the
business of science is not as objective as scientific ideology would have
it. This explains why the more esteemed scientific journals, which of
course are also the most conservative, have given very little space to the
kind of unusual phenomena that are mentioned in this book. However, there
are many stalwart researchers who are not discouraged by this but who
continue to dedicate their lives to exploring psychospiritual realities.
One of these maverick scientists is Hiroshi Motoyama. He has done
much to verify the cakra system and also the acupuncture meridians through
his sophisticated electromagnetic equipment. It was at his laboratory in
Tokyo, Japan, that Itzhak Bentov and I did a series of experiments that
showed amplitude differences in the body's micromotions on the right and
left sides of the head. The motion on the left was fifty percent greater.
Shortly after we had noted this remarkable difference, we chanced upon
another significant discovery: When our subject went into a deep meditative
state, this right-left difference was almost equalized.
In ordinary consciousness, the EEG amplitude at one side of the
brain is greater than at the other. With feedback and patience a person can
balance this difference, and at that point he or she feels profound peace
and tranquillity. Perhaps our finding is a physical counterpart of this
psychological state.
J. Millay (1976) observed that subjective reports of peacefulness,
centeredness, and light were common among a group of students who achieved
7- to 13-Hz EEG phase coherence between the right and the left cerebral
hemisphere. Another confirmation of the link between mental states and
physiology is seen in the work of Manfred Clynes (see Jonas 1972). He has
shown that an emotion can be recorded by a simple transducer sensitive to
lateral and vertical pressure. Clynes had his subjects fantasize a
particular emotion and press on the transducer simultaneously. This created
a characteristic signature or waveform for each emotion.
Sylvia Brody and Saul Axelrod (1970) noted that fetal responses
studied by them had pattern, direction, and effect. Later, William Condon
and Louis Sander found that the apparent random movements of infants were
synchronized with adult speech they heard. Summarizing the work of these
two scientists, Joseph Chilton Pearce (1980) stated that as adults we have
our own personal repertoire of micromuscular movements coordinating with
our use of and reception to speech. These studies, similar to those I
mentioned earlier, are further evidence for a sensory-motor link.
My colleagues and I, as well as others, have attempted to measure
physiological correlates of meditators' reported sensations of heat, light,
and sound. As noted in the case histories of meditators undergoing the
kundalini awakening, we did observe temperature changes in one case. Such
changes could be made visible on recently developed medical thermographic
equipment, without the need for attaching temperature transducers to the
bodies of meditating subjects. Other investigators, particularly R. Dobrin
(1975), have described the use of sensitive photomultiplier tubes to detect
low-intensity ultraviolet light from the bodies of experimental subjects,
but so far little attention has been paid to correlating such measurements
with meditative processes. Our attempts to measure physiological correlates
of meditators' sound sensations were unsuccessful. Further work along all
of these lines, using improved equipment and experimental procedures, is
called for. It will help demonstrate the extent to which there is an
objective basis for the subiective reports of meditators.
We did an interesting experiment - which has not, to my knowledge,
been confirmed or replicated - using Hiroshi Motoyama's electric field
sensor, or "cakra measuring device." When the subject sat quietly in this
machine, we could observe the usual EEG waveform. After a few minutes of
deep meditation, probably at the point where the subject felt he or she had
transcended the ordinary consciousness, there suddenly appeared a
diminution of these signals and a corresponding increase in amplitude in a
higher frequency band, one which our experimenters had not been equipped to
detect. To our surprise, this new waveform was in the frequency range of
350 to 500 Hz, much higher than the 0- to 50-Hz frequency range of a normal
EEG waveform. These higher frequency EEG signals could be an easily
measured physiological indicator of certain meditative states and
out-of-body experiences, or of bilocation of consciousness. If so, a
subject full of mystery and fascination for centuries can now become a new
frontier for science.