An account of how the life force power of Kundalini bestows many Siddhis and Blessings
Continued from the previous issue of YOGA Magazine…
Words: Yogi Raj Muni
Mysteriously we both found ourselves at the banks of a river. Yogi Ji was present. He greeted us and ushered us to follow him home.
The morning mist clung to the mountainside as I followed Yogi Ji up a narrow trail.
Silver snowflakes drifted lazily from the gray sky, settling on my face and dissolving into tiny droplets. I was still rubbing my hands together for warmth when I heard Bushie, my fellow student, a cheerful snow leopard (if such a thing were possible) with a thick, spotted coat and an easy laugh that seemed out of place in the solemn mountains, yet somehow belonged perfectly.
“Come on, Yaar!” Bushie called, bounding over a rock, his voice full of cheer. “The sooner we’re in the cave, the sooner we’ll be out of this frosty weather!”
Yogi Ji, with his unhurried stride, chuckled and shook his head. “Patience, Bushie, patience,” he said, his voice calm and deep. “Haste is the enemy of insight.”
The three of us arrived at the entrance to Yoga Bhavan, the cave’s stone walls adorned with ancient carvings of yantras and sacred symbols.
Inside, the cave was dimly lit by oil lamps that cast flickering patterns on the walls, their light mingling with the scent of sandalwood. I could hear the faint echoes of chanting that seemed to vibrate within the stone itself.
It felt like a place where the ancient and the mystical met and held stillness.
“Today, Muni, Bushie,” Yogi Ji began, settling onto a simple woven mat, “we are going to deepen our awareness of the subtle, or etheric, bodies that surround each of us. Understanding these layers is crucial for realising the unity between our physical form and our deeper energies.”
I leaned forward, intrigued by the promise of mysteries unfolding, while Bushie let out a soft yawn, his usual playful self, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“So, we’re diving into some of that invisible magic stuff?” he asked with his signature grin.
“Precisely,” Yogi Ji said, nodding patiently, as though amused by Bushie’s light-heartedness.
“But magic only to those who have not experienced it. For the yogi, the etheric bodies are as real as the hands and feet we use to walk. They hold our emotional, mental, and spiritual energies.
My mind raced as I listened, trying to grasp what Yogi Ji was describing. “Yogi Ji, I have read about these bodies in the old texts—the Annamaya Kosha, the Pranyama Kosha, and so on. But I have never understood how to perceive them.”
“Perception begins with awareness, Muni,” Yogi Ji said, closing his eyes.
“Each layer of our being can be accessed through different practices. For today, I want you to start with a basic asana, one that aligns the physical body and opens the channels for subtle energy to flow freely; Let us try Tadasana, mountain pose.”
Bushie and I exchanged glances and stood, aligning ourselves as Yogi Ji had taught us.
“Ground your feet,” Yogi Ji instructed, his voice soft but precise.
“Feel the earth beneath you, solid and strong. Now, lift your arms, reaching toward the sky, but keep your feet firm. Imagine yourself as a tree—roots deep in the earth, branches reaching up, merging the energies of the earth and sky.”
As I closed my eyes, something shifted within me, and I felt a subtle warmth rise from my feet, up through my spine. The cave air seemed to come alive, and I sensed a faint glow outlining my body, as if my energy was becoming visible.
Bushie, wobbling slightly beside me, grinned and muttered, “Well, maybe I’m a tree with a few too many branches!” I could not help but chuckle, but a strange stillness settled over me.
“And now, slowly shift into the Vrukshasana which is the Tree Pose,” Yogi Ji said. “Raise your right foot and place it on the inside of your left thigh, hands together at your heart. Stability in this pose connects us with our own energy fields.”
We shifted into Tree Pose, and again I felt that tingling sensation along my limbs, the faint outline of something pulsing and alive.
Was this the aura Yogi Ji had spoken of? I did not have time to dwell on the thought; Yogi Ji gestured for us to sit down, and I settled back onto the mat.
“Now that your physical body is steady,” Yogi Ji continued, “we will focus on the aura, the energy field extending beyond our physical bodies. When we meditate on this, we often chant a bija mantra, a seed sound, to harmonise the aura. Try chanting ‘Om’ and feel how it resonates beyond your body.”
Bushie and I closed our eyes again and began chanting “Om,” letting the sound vibrate through us.
The cave seemed to echo the sound back, as if amplifying it. For a moment, I felt my awareness expanding, like my edges were softening, blending with the air around me. I sensed a lightness, almost as if I were dissolving, merging with something vast.
Just then, a rustling at the cave entrance startled us, breaking our meditation. Two men appeared, wrapped in thick cloaks with hoods pulled over their faces.
Each held a woven basket slung over his shoulder, and I heard a faint hissing from within. Their faces were drawn and weary, their clothes dusty from travel.
“We’re sorry to disturb you, kind yogis,” one of the men said in a thick, unfamiliar accent.
“We are snake charmers from a neighbouring country, but we seem to have lost our way in these mountains. We are trying to find a path back to a remote village in the Punjab.”
Yogi Ji’s face softened with compassion. “Ah, travellers from afar. You have wandered into a sacred space. Sit, rest with us.”
The snake charmers gratefully settled themselves in the cave, their movements slow and careful. I saw one of them gently lift the lid of his basket, peering inside and murmuring softly to the snake within.
Bushie’s ears perked up, and he grinned. “Are those snakes? Can they join in the yoga class?” he asked, laughing. The charmers laughed with him, nodding.
“The snakes are good listeners but not so good at balancing,” one of them replied, patting the basket fondly. “They, too, are travellers—companions on our path.”
Yogi Ji watched the charmers thoughtfully.
“The path you seek is southward, far from here. But before you go, I can teach you a mantra to guide you on your journey. It will keep you safe, even in the dense forests and unfamiliar trails.”
The charmers looked at each other, their faces lighting with interest.
“We would be honoured, Yogi Ji. We rely on chants to soothe the snakes, but we have never learned one for ourselves.”
Yogi Ji closed his eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “This is the AumShreem Hreem Kleem mantra, which aligns with the energies of protection and safe passage. It harmonises the energies around you and creates a subtle barrier that keeps you from harm. Chant this as you walk, and it will guide you.”
As the charmers repeated the mantra under their breath, a sense of reverence and awe settled over them. The cave, with its echoes of chanting and flickering lights, seemed to grow warmer, more alive.
“Yogi Ji,” I ventured, feeling the moment’s mystery, “is it possible that these mantras affect our aura and etheric bodies, too?”
“Indeed,” he replied, his gaze meeting mine. “When we chant, especially with intention, we tune ourselves to a specific frequency. It strengthens the aura, calms the mind, and even cleanses energy blockages. Each mantra resonates with a different part of our being, like striking a tuning fork to bring everything into harmony.”
Bushie let out a deep, exaggerated purr. “So, it’s like purring for us, then!” he laughed, sending a ripple of joy through the cave.
The snake charmers, feeling the warmth of the camaraderie, offered to demonstrate their own art. They played a haunting melody on their flutes, and as the notes filled the cave, the snakes slowly rose, swaying to the rhythm. I felt spellbound, as if the music itself carried a subtle magic, a sound as old as the mountains.
Finally, Yogi Ji raised a hand, signalling for quiet.
“Before you leave, remember this, dear friends – the world outside is vast and filled with both wonders and dangers. But it is your inner strength, your connection to the divine within, that will guide you safely through any terrain.”
He paused, his words settling over us like a blessing.
I noticed suddenly that one of the snake charmers began to shake a little. I looked closely and saw that his legs became a snake’s tail.
I let out a scream as I was certain he was changing form.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bushie.
“Nothing” I replied still amazed at what I was beholding. But neither Yogi Ji, nor Bushie or indeed any other charmers seemed to witness what I was.
I closed my eyes and then opened them. Eventually I decided to leave the cave as I thought either I am going insane or imagining things.
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