I’ve been very fortunate in life to spend some time living in Finland, three years in total. The location was remote, about ten miles away from the Russian border, the country side was beautiful, lakes and forests lakes and forests lakes and forests. I lived in a log cabin on a country lane, not a shop, bar, post office or anything for miles, only farms, farms and more farms. In summer I’d wash and bathe in a nearby lake, I worked long hours on a nearby farm. The summers were short but beautiful, a real definition to the seasons, autumn was autumn spring was spring, summer was summer and winter was fucking tough, all pretty much six months of it. Short days, freezing temperatures, sometimes minus thirty. Holed up in a log cabin for nearly half a year was quite difficult, it wasn’t just me that found it hard, the Finns also struggled with the long arduous winter.
Towards the end of autumn before the snow, there was a guy I used to call the ‘stickman’ that would appear. He must have been about 80 years old, it was his job to mark out the road for when the snow fell. When there’s three feet of snow on the ground the road would just blend in to the adjacent fields and not be visible unless it was marked out. Up the country road he walked with a bundle of sticks with a wrap of luminous tape around the tops slung over his shoulder sticking them in the ground at 20 metre or so intervals at the sides of the road. Around this time I’d see the geese in the sky migrating to warmer climes. The sight of the stickman brought in a certain feeling of dread about the long looming winter that lay ahead. No more swimming drunk with friends in pine tree circled milky lakes under the amazing midsummer skies, no more sitting in the garden watching the bats at night. Hardly any daylight for months. When the stickman showed his face it was time to strap in and ride it out.
I’m recognising the stickman’s ominous warning in myself now, only he’s not a stickman, he’s heightened anxiety, he’s tetchiness, he’s back pain, he’s people pleasing, he’s perfectionism. He isn’t alerting me about a tough winter he’s alerting me about emotional trauma that has been suppressed and needs to be released as frightening as it is. All the above symptoms seem to heighten when there’s an upheaval waiting just under the surface that needs to come out, be willingly met, experienced and let go of. It isn’t pleasant, I can feel it coming, I’m recognising the signs now. During an upheaval the emotional childhood wounds feel so raw, so fresh, like they happened yesterday. It’s like they’re massively amplified by the Kundalini to a point where it’s impossible to repress them anymore. Out it pours.
I’ll be honest, I’d read about Kundalini years ago and completely dismissed it, had no interest what soever in it. I ignorantly thought it was a ‘new age’ thing. My primary spiritual focus was the experience that happened in Greece, the temporary awakening, the deep silent peace and Eternal Now. I had no idea that there was an energetic component in the self realisation awakening process, a component that rewires the brain and rids the body of stored trauma. Now I’m experiencing kundalini first hand I have the utmost respect for it, it’s powerfully relentless, it’s beautiful, it’s as fierce as a scrap yard dog. It wants to fix and heal me, it wants all the childhood wounds and other hurt up to the surface to be dealt with for good. For the greater good, not just for me but for the greater whole, my family, my friends, the planet, everything.
There was emotional release yesterday, all day pretty much. Walking about nature on my own hurting and releasing, the sun was out, my friends were drinking cold beers in town. It’s a lonely journey for sure but the stickman has my back.