“Isn’t there supposed to be… trumpets… or something?” I ask Mark, the handy personality-identity of my HGA or divine light.
Apparently there’s not.
So let’s go back a bit.
Mid last year, I was begging for inner help in just “burning through the blocks” that I apparently had affecting my “ability to allow love” and a whole spectrum of personal and spiritual development as a result. Working at or around them in denial for years had not done it.
I had a talk with Konewa Turi (the identity of my Kundalini chakra, a singular but male+female) who made it clear they consider this body their territory. When I asked if another rising with them could injure my heart they said yes.
For a couple years my health had been devolving in that more and more edema got added to my lower body. I figured this was a result of lipedema (a maybe-genetic currently-incurable medical condition I have) where that’s an expected thing at extreme points. I also suspected I was heading for menopause which as a hormonal effect would be predicted to increase symptoms. But during those last couple years the growth seemed too much. Too fast. Even for this condition.
It wrecked my life. I eventually was so immobilized by it I couldn’t drive. Then I couldn’t even get around my house. What a nightmare.
And then last Oct. I had another kundalini rising. And in the middle, just like the last one I had 20 years before, it slammed to a stop on the yin channel and I was freezing to death on the inside and it was burning on all the higher chakras. I frantically prayed to everybody and begged the energy itself to just get through those blocks so I would finally be free of it. And it seemed to. And the rest of the experience was warm and groovy.
I had a whole spiritual experience of this, quite amazing. Then I woke up unable to breathe because I am pretty sure that the physical correlate was, I had literal blockages like cholesterol in a heart valve, and I had some equivalent of a heart attack. For three weeks I was severely messed up from brain to skin to everything and am lucky to be alive. Konewa Turi showed me what it did: there were some tears in a tissue that I assumed was the heart, they showed me. An injury.
From that time on the edema went nuts. It increased vastly more and faster. It was in my torso, it was so severe in my legs that I was heading toward becoming a motionless ocean buoy or something. I was trying to get medical help but couldn’t get in to get assigned a doc and policy prevented every other option. Finally a couple weeks ago it was done: I was immobile. I had been in enormous pain for some time. I couldn’t move and I was gonna die. I checked myself in to ER.
“Do you know where you are?” someone asked me.
“I’m on vacation,” I said sleepily but cheerfully.
A young woman looked at me, worried. Not the answer they expected.
“People are nice to me though they bug me a lot and kinda handsome men in kinda ugly clothes are giving me sponge baths.” Yeah, the hospital.
I lost four days in there somewhere, I was in for eight days total.
There was both confusion and clarity. Confusion because my basic numbers (you know – cholesterol, blood sugar, blood pressure, and so on) reflect someone healthy, but obviously I was nearly dead. It has always been that way. My organs are a bit enlarged due to size which is due to lipedema, that’s a given. And I know I probably did not ‘fix’ health I spent over 40 years wrecking, just by eating vastly better for some years now, pretty sure my liver has issues, it showed me. They don’t usually test for that. The stuff they do, seemed like I was in better health than the norm.
Confusion because I told them I’d been living in/on my bed for a year or more and apparently the skin is very trashed even after a month of this, let alone a year, and that’s with special beds and nursing. But mine after all that time was in good shape, aside from some thick areas where there had been previous wounds (some from that earlier experience). How could that long a term from someone untrained at home have that good a result? So they weren’t even sure they believed me.
But once I was to the detail EKGs and stuff, there was clarity on one thing: There is a primary vein to the heart, the primary fluid handler, the aortic vein. Our common cultural ailing is that there are blockages in this vein, it’s the main place. I had no blockage there. Rather, I had tears/lesions, to the degree ultrasound can show. Yep. Just what KT showed me. And as a result, it is “leaky.” And the result of the leaky is massive edema. And the more edema the harder the heart works and the more it leaks and it gets worse.
Now, if I’d had half a brain, I would have realized KT was showing me serious damage and I would have begun the Pauling+ protocol for this health-wise at the start of November. But I thought it was being dealt with by my body. And maybe it has been somewhat for all I know, but it’s still bad enough to kill me right now.
Bo (Bolehren), one of my Aeons, showed up right before that experience and told me everything was going to be ok. I should learn that every time something like that happens, it’s followed by some total disaster!
But so I did not treat it and if anything, due to the injury and worsening symptoms, have eaten far less, moved far less, and so on — the opposite of treatment for it.
Now of course I am on the (amino acids) protocol and hoping like crazy it will actually heal and I will get my life back. The hospital was kind enough to send me home with a prescription for a hard diuretic that seems to be working, though very slowly, and each day some tiny accomplishment or ability shows up to improve things. The protocol is supposed to take four months.
It turns out that due to the commonality of this vein being clogged, there are actually a couple of minimally-invasive surgeries for it, they do tons of these every day. My sitch could be dealt with via that too. But the measure on whether you qualify is how mobile you were prior to surgery as you absolutely must be and move around after. Since I’d been trapped in my room for a year I was disqualified. Of course, this meant I couldn’t get the surgery that would resolve the problem causing the symptoms, because of the symptoms, which would be allegedly mostly resolved by the surgery… a catch-22. The local docs all wanted me to be able to qualify and tried to help to that end but to no avail. The surgical center has a policy list, if I died I’d mess up their stats, they said no.
So the hospital sent me home expecting me to die. Six months is the hospice default, although of course people can live for any length and even get off that program entirely. I’m still on the diuretic simply so I can have a decent life experience in ‘the time I have left.’
Initially when I went home and the form of the diuretic changed, it seemed like things were getting worse again. Two years of growing fear, months of terror, cropped up and my best friend has been literally a saint in every possible way.
I came home and it all came to a head emotionally, my misery and fear and feeling like I was going to die, and ended up with a meditation finally and I “accepted.” Finally. All the “stuff” I haven’t been. And I’m going to live. So that’s a given and everything else is just the details on the way now.
There is a website called The Biology of Kundalini which I find in searches sometimes. I’ve read pieces of it now and then but it’s impossibly huge. One thing it does make clear though is the health issues associated with Kundalini. NOW what I would like is to resolve that but benefit from the underlying upgrade.
I know Seth said none of this stuff — body or psychology or spirit — is separate at all. Still this is a very vividly personal example. For godssakes!
As for the kundalini and my health, that’s an example of getting exactly what you asked for but perhaps not what you wanted.
So I’m talking to Mark today. And I am thinking that with this big acceptance I did, late night of the 28th just changing to the 29th, and much positive interacting with the interworlds related to this since, that surely there ought to be some… sign. Like recognition. Maybe the sound of trumpets. But I guess not. Finally succeeding at anything so often tends to be underwhelming.