The Serpent of Light
"The Serpent of Light"
In a remote ashram, hidden between ancient cedars and wisps of mist, lived a young woman named Mira. She was neither a healer nor a student, but simply a seeker – driven by a feeling that something slumbered within her that shouldn't sleep.
Mira had learned much: pranayama, mantra, silence. But deep down, a longing remained that no teacher could quench. One evening, in the blue hour between day and dream, she sat down on a rock by the river. There she said only a single word – not aloud, but in the language of the soul:
"Now."
In that moment, it began.
A trembling – barely noticeable – at the base of her spine. Like the twitching of a sleeping being. Then: a glow. First warm, then hot. Something awoke within her. It wasn't pleasant, not gentle. It was wild, ancient – a force that asked no questions.
The Kundalini – the sleeping serpent – had risen.
She felt the fire rising, vertebra by vertebra. Every spot it touched was illuminated: fears, memories, lies. The fire burned through blockages, tears welled up, her body vibrated as if it were being retuned – like an instrument long forgotten.
In her stomach, she felt a volcano – the center of her power, long suppressed.
Something burst open in her heart – as if a beam of light had pierced centuries-old armor.
In her throat, she began to sing – not from her mouth, but from the depths of her existence.
In her head – a storm of images, sounds, visions.
And then: silence.
Not the absence of sound, but the presence of everything. Within her – and above her – a space of light opened. No "above," no "below." No boundary between her and the world. She became transparent – and at the same time whole.
She was consciousness. Energy. Breath. Dance.
When she opened her eyes the next morning, the river lay calm, as if nothing had happened. But Mira knew: everything had happened.
From that day on, Mira no longer lived "for herself" – but through herself. The Kundalini was no longer hidden. It was her inner fire, her inner teacher. She didn't force anything – she followed. And everywhere she went, others also began to remember what lay dormant within them.
