Kundalini

Here is a word arisen in an idiotic discussion over the merits, if any, of quantum grammar, belief in words and disrespect for experience. Like so many entries in this revised dictionary, this is another that I avoid generally and use only very specifically, very infrequently, and never first in any conversation. This time, though, the content is thematically a departure from the rest, inasmuch as I am merely introducing it, and am not its author.

It is a deceptively young word that derives from the Sanskrit -कुण्डलिनी (kuṇḍalinī, "coiled" and kuṇḍala, "ring"). Apparently, its first known use is as recent as 1897, when theosophy and similar New Age movements were first coming into vogue. I can do no better than to offer this shockingly corrective quote (page 227), circa 1915, about the true nature of kuṇḍalinī.

As always, I invite challenging discussion and/or well considered follow-up questions, according to your nature.

                      "In so-called 'occult' literature you have probably met with the expression 'Kundalini,' 
                       'the fire of Kundalini,' or the 'serpent of Kundalini.' This expression is often used to 
                       designate some kind of strange force which is present in man and which can be awakened.
                       But none of the known theories gives the right explanation of the force of Kundalini. 
                       Sometimes it is connected with sex, with sex energy, that is with the idea of the possibility
                       of using sex energy for other purposes. This latter is entirely wrong because Kundalini 
                       can be in anything. And above all, Kundalini is not anything desirable or useful for man's
                       development. It is very curious how these occultists have got hold of the word from 
                       somewhere but have completely altered its meaning and from a very dangerous and 
                       terrible thing have made something to be hoped for and to be awaited as some blessing.

                      "In reality Kundalini is the power of imagination, the power of fantasy, which takes the place 
                      of a real function. When a man dreams instead of acting, when his dreams take the place of 
                      reality, when a man imagines himself to be an eagle, a lion, or a magician, it is the force of 
                      Kundalini acting in him. Kundalini can act in all centers and with its help all the centers can 
                      be satisfied with the imaginary instead of the real. A sheep which considers itself a lion or a 
                      magician lives under the power of Kundalini. 

                     "Kundalini is a force put into men in order to keep them in their present state. If men could 
                     really see their true position and could understand all the horror of it, they would be unable 
                     to remain where they are even for one second. They would begin to seek a way out and they 
                     would quickly find it, because there is a way out; but men fail to see it simply because they are 
                     hypnotized. Kundalini is the force that keeps them in a hypnotic state. 'To awaken' for man 
                     means to be 'dehypnotized.' In this lies the chief difficulty and in this also lies the guarantee 
                     of its possibility, for there is no organic reason for sleep and man can awaken."

                    -George Gurdjieff

A I N ' T   N O T H I N G   L I K E   T H E   R E A L   T H I N G  ,  B A B Y

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Passion

Nearly everyone I have known or will know passionately avoids experiencing passion - a shameful trend, in my humble opinion. Ironically, it is as common an explicit requirement in the job market nowadays as it is inappropriate - as in, "ACME Corp. seeks experienced marketing executive with a passion for social media," or somesuch nonsense. My advice is to be wary of any partner, whether commercial or intimate, who demands passion from you.

Of course I know that folks are trying to describe something other than passion when they utter the word, something like joy (which may also be inappropriate professionally, as in "passionate about law enforcement (or technology, or cheese, etc.)"), or at least enthusiam. If they think this, then I have to wonder what they imagine compassion might be and/or why anyone would want theirs. If this makes you wonder what passionate sex might feel like, then don't rush to judgment but read on and allow me to tease your imagination.

As with most members of this problematic list, the best way to avoid misusing the word passion is not to use it at all. The same holds for compassion, which, as you may come to see, is seldom sincere and amounts to little more than an invasion of another's privacy. This is not to say that these are bad words denoting bad deeds (for they are not); rather, the integrity needed to find the right word - to mean precisely what you say - demands virtue, which is a reward to everyone it touches.

Many folks seem unpleasantly surprised to learn that passion means suffering or endurance, for they tend to backpedal if caught using the word in another sense. It derives from the Late Latin -passionem (nominative -passio), which conveys a sense of pain - possibly even virtue - but not pleasure. This may explain the apparent oxymoron with which I began this essay and/or that latent hint of some vital difference between that sex which is passionate and that which is 'unusually exciting'.

Taking the word literally (which is always a good place to start), only sadists and masochists would use passion to describe joy. Though the pre-Latin root derives from a Proto-Indo-European verb for -to hurt, the Latinism concentrates on martyrdom. The endurance aspect of suffering suggests that it must be both long (duration) and hard (durable) to qualify as passion, as opposed to simply stubbing your toe or tolerating your mother in-law.

A funny thing happened on the way to the forum: the same Late Latin -passio was used to render the Greek pathos, a mere homonym with overtones of calamity (literally 'that which befalls') and the arousal of pity. The sense of passion as sexual arousal is less than 500 years old and that of enthusiasm, less than 400. Yet the so-called passion-flower gets it name from this same recent era - not because flowers are sex organs and not because passiflora is an aphrodisiac (which it is not), but for its resemblance to a crown of thorns.

I am a happy exponent of passion - anyone who knows me will confirm that I regard intentional suffering (and not martyrdom) as one of the three means by which to awaken and explore human potential. Meanwhile, passion is casually misunderstood and earnestly taken in vain, sometimes to absurd extremes, just as is compassion, whose true meaning is shared suffering and not sentimental pity. So when someone asks me, no matter how innocently, "Are you passionate about ... (fill in the blank)?", the word (not the thing!) sounds at once trite and vulgar.

H O W   P A S S I O N A T E   A R E   Y O U   A B O U T   W H A T   Y O U   L O V E  ?

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