Love, Fun, Play: Solar Plexus Lessons From The Red

Posted by Shagun Rastogi on Oct 1, 2014








Uluru, known to hold the solar plexus energy of the Earth Mother, has information and codes. It is a magnificent computer, an earth computer.
But it is Kata Tjuta, a few kilometres away but part of the same formation, where that information is shaped, and sent out into the world.
There are 36 domes here. That's a magic number.
Here you can mould those codes, shape them, create from them, and send them out as forms.
Here you can make magic and do rituals.
Of course, the possibility of misuse is so high because human will is involved.
And hence, only a few are trusted with it.
People who are willing to be the channels for divine will.
Who are clear, who are invisible.
Who have learnt to manage power like a true king does.

Harry Potter had lessons in this kind of power.
True power comes to those who do not desire it.
Because there is no ego there, its purpose is not personal glory.
There is love, and the willingness to sacrifice one's own self for others.

I will cry.

You know me, I did my barefoot walking.
I set the right intentions, I carried the crystal from Shasta.
I sang and prayed for everyone's well being, including mine own and the Earth mothers.
I spoke to stones and told them to let me know if they decided to come with me to Glastonbury.
I rejoiced at the colour yellow of the flowers I met at the beginning of my walk on the Liru trail, which I crushed into pollen and spread into the wind.
I took selfies.
I took selfies of my feet too.
I invited my guides to come with me.
I asked for permission from the spirit of Uluru to enter and to guide me to do my work.
I fasted.
I did what I could.





The first day, when I had come to explore, almost like a recce, I walked the path to the gorge, a short walk.
I came across Mala Puta, a women's sacred site.
I saw a gap between two large rocks and I was delighted and attracted.
So I squiggled in.
I did not notice that there were branches kept at the entrance to keep people out.
They were just branches, I did not read into them.
Then I sat between the two rocks, rejoicing at the little wind tunnel, which made the wind sing and sigh, overjoyed at this little hidey hole that I had found for myself where I could hear people walking by but they could not see me, unless they specifically looked.
I noticed a little stone that someone had left there, egg shaped, white and grey and bluish, and I smiled at it, wondering whether it wanted to come with me, or be left alone, or even if I should touch it.
I tried to meditate, but I couldn't, I was just happy being there, in the cool shade, and so I just sat, and lay down and looked around.
Moved up, explored another crevice in the rock.
Came back to my original spot, sat a little more, smiled at everyone around ( no one was around) and scampered out, giggling.

The day of the actual walk of course, I had a mission.
I was all fired up.
On the walk, the first place I felt attracted to, I couldn't go close to, because the path was far from the actual site.
I kept debating whether I should go or not.
I remembered the 'penalties apply if you cross the marked path' sign.
'Sacred site, do not photograph' kept jumping at me.
I looked around, wondering whether I should jump the fence or not.
I made a hesitant step, stumbled a little, wondered if the stumbling was a sign
I felt angry that the path was so far from the site.
I looked around again, waited for some people to leave, then jumped in and went closer. From here, I could see that the way forward was quite overgrown and I wouldn't be able to get close or scramble up the rocks without being seen, so I went back.
The fact that it was a men's site made me uncomfortable too. I wondered if I was unwelcome.

Walking ahead, I next came upon another site that attracted me. This was a women's site.
Again, the path was too far.
There was a cordoned off path leaving from the main path but that said 'Authorised personnel only'.
I really wanted to go.
Partly because I wanted to, partly because I felt the need to touch the rock and activate and receive the knowledge held there, after all I had come so far for this.
But I was holding myself back.
I was afraid too.
I walked on.
Then I stopped.
The site revealed itself,
Eyes with teeth.
It looked raw and primal.
I was angry.
I was angry at being cordoned off.
I was angry at not being given access.
I was angry at the Aboriginals for being so guarded and possessive.
Why are you holding all this knowledge so possessively?
Just like priests in India, and other ancient cultures who have lost the plot, and want to guard knowledge out of ego, because it gives them power.
I was like an angry child, angry because something had just been forbidden to me.
The dark side of the solar plexus emerged, and I saw it in the site, in them, and in me.
Who gave them authority? Who decided where I should and should not go?
What the hell does authorised personnel only mean? Authorised by who?
There was information about the raw and primal power of the feminine here, and its suppression too, and I was echoing that, and the fact that I was feeling that meant it had a hook into me.
I was angry at the suppression of the feminine. Don't do this. Don't do that. Don't go here. Be like this. Don't be like that. So angry. How dare anyone tell me what to do? How dare anyone impose anything upon me, subjugate me for centuries, subject me to such degrees of violence and control? Never again. Ever again. I gritted my teeth.
I wanted to walk in, and if questioned about being authorised, I wanted to say, "Yes! I am authorised by myself and by the spirit of Uluru."
I hated both the restriction and my hesitating obeyance of the restriction. I hated that I wasn't just able to give a fuck and walk in. Or even better, walk in naturally, peacefully, calmly, like a child would.
I vacillated there for a while, between obedience and defiance, submission and rebellion.

I asked myself what my heart wanted me to do.
What was my inner authority saying?

I pondered about authority.

My pattern was one of submission vacillating to rebellion, like a see saw. I would get over influenced by authority, and then, when I had had enough, blow up and rebel.
That rebellion was many times, just for the sake of rebellion.
That needed to change. To become a healthy relationship, one of pure inner authority. To obey external authority only when my inner authority allowed me to.
The best would be to not have any sort of knowledge of authority at all, to be like a child, joyfully following the heart and the impulses that arise in the moment.
But it was too late for that, we had already tasted the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge, and now one must work with that knowledge, and heal our relationship with it.
Perhaps growth lies there, in traversing the path to arrive where we first started, instead of never having travelled at all.
Spirals, not circles.

I entered, flitting from one tree to the next, like a little thief.
As I watch this play in my head, I clearly see the lesson that was being thrown at me.
It is the same lesson that I was taught as a child.
When I wanted to steal the coloured pieces of chalk for my blackboard at home ( when all I needed to do at home was to ask, but i thought we were maybe too poor to afford coloured chalk)
And when I sneakily tried to steal the chalk, and Rachna miss saw me, what did she do?
"Take it.", she said. "Take more. Take as much as you want, whenever you want, it is yours." I was so ashamed, but I also lost the desire for chalk.

Take it Shagun, take it, it is yours. Do not think so much. Do not debate endlessly. All is yours, if that is what you know to be true. There is no need for rebellion. All rules are self imposed.Every single one of them. If we follow rules, we must do so in complete awareness of the reason for their being. My job is to recognize the ones that do no resonate with my inner authority, release them. Release them naturally, without making drama of it. And do it with love and understanding of the fact that my subservience to them has its roots in the past,it comes from the times we have been punished for assertion of our own authority and power, and that has left its marks. With compassion for the self and the perpetuator of that punishment, for we have been both. The one who wants to control is so insecure, so afraid. If the aboriginals weren't afraid of people misusing and disrespecting their sacred sites and their knowledge, they would be more open with it. The fear comes from the Westerner's exploitation of it. Westerners weren't necessarily cruel, just misinformed. Everything has a story.

Stories awaken compassion.

And then there was greed. Greed for wanting it all, for being the 'special' one. Being the activator of the codes of this place. But the divine world has such a sense of humour. :)

I moved on. The next time I was approaching a site, I saw a little path leading off. I entered it. I was more confident this time. I didn't care so much.
The path circled over and came close to where the original road was meeting this path. People saw me. No one cared. I felt cooler. I felt like I had taken a step forward. I still wasn't a natural though.
This site felt like it held the information of determination, will, strength, death. If the first men's site that I had encountered belonged to young men and husbands, this one belonged to the old man.
I bowed to it and walked on.



I came across a shady grove. Here I lay on the rock, rested.

Reached the Kuniya site. I thought the waterhole was supposed to be here. I saw nothing, no way leading off it, nothing.
I had wanted to meditate at the waterhole, take water from it, put the crystal in it if I so felt inclined.
I thought maybe I'd meet the rainbow serpent. ( take a selfie with it, lolz. j/k)
I thought maybe the waterhole was inside the rocks and we weren't allowed to go.
( again, wanting something so badly, and feeling like I am not allowed it, co-exist. Desire comes from feelings of deprivation, it seems. I must allow myself all I desire. I must examine my deepest feeling of lack of deserving, of being the outsider, of being not worthy, because my desire exists because of them )
I thought I'd ask the woman guide, but I didn't.
I don't know why. I could so easily have.
I left.

The next women's site was joyous, it held the secrets to feminine attraction, and play, and dance and music. I could imagine many young women laughing, singing, braiding each other's hair, talking about men here. I stayed a bit, then moved on, concerned that I would miss the last bus.

I reached almost just in time.

I puked, purging out all that I had encountered within me, and I slept early.

I woke up before sunrise the next morning, meditated with the sunrise. Felt good, felt strong, felt wonderful.
Didn't push myself to go for the long valley of the winds walk, it would have been too much of a strain on me.
I also wanted to spend time with the sunrise instead of being on the go.



I decided to go for the shorter walk to Walpa George at Kata Tjuta.
At Kata tjuta, i walked barefoot, out of joy, not out of duty.
I enjoyed the wind, and I enjoyed feeling strong.
I soaked in the sunshine.
When I wanted to pee, I peed there. Like a child.
My shoe fell off the bridge, and I got a tall man to help me out, like a child, again.
I loved every minute of it.
I didn't care to hurry up because other people might be waiting.
As long as I made it within five minutes of the 8:15 deadline, I was fine.
I apologized to the people that I had kept them waiting, but truth be told, I didnt care that much.
They could wait a little.

We drove back.
I packed, left.

I felt much gratitude when I was leaving, for having been called, and welcomed and loved.

Landing in Sydney, I looked out of the window, and saw the writing in the sky.

"This will never last"




Impermanence put my feelings of pride and achievement, as well as those of lack, in perspective.

On researching the waterhole, I found that it was there somewhere, and I had missed it.
I went all the way to Uluru, only to have missed the home of the rainbow serpent, the most sacred spot, the birthing pool?
My ego was shattered to pieces.
I wasn't so special after all.
So many people, who went there, just as tourists, matter of factly, went there.
And I, I who walked barefoot in the heat, praying for the health of the world missed it.
It was such a joke on me!
Such a big blow.

And then I laughed.
The laughter rose from my belly.
I laughed at me, laughed at all my little games, all my dramas.
I laughed at the amazing way the lesson I really needed to learn was taught to me, I laughed with all of divinity at myself. We laughed together.
All my silly self importance, my greed for being special, my desire to reenact the crystal ritual rites I keep reading about, all of it came tumbling down in joy.
I am still laughing.
And I still feel surprisingly good about myself. You would think I wouldn't.

I later did realize that the rainbow serpents apparently does exit from the Mala Puta site, the one I had found the first day, and played in.
I did meet him after all.
But I wasn't aware of it, because I was just having fun.
I did what I had to do anyway, without being aware of it, naturally, spontaneously, like a child.
Not that I cared anymore. I had laughed at me anyway.
I really did not need to do the 10 km parikrama, but I did, and it taught me many things.

Take yourself seriously, but don't take yourself so seriously.
Know your power, but hold it lightly.
Lose it willingly, so we can play.
Have fun! Have fun! Have fun!

Divinity loves a good laugh.
All of this brought to me to my clarity on love and power.

I just want to love, one person at a time, one moment at a time.
I realize I infinitely prefer the spirituality of Manav Sadhna, of kindness and compassion.
Circles are greater to me than pyramids.
And while power must be accepted, acknowledged and managed, much like a true King does, knowing that the source of power is life and God itself,
love will always be greater than power, and must be the force directing that power.

Love, fun, play.
My solar plexus chakra lessons in three words.

Posted by Shagun Rastogi on Oct 1, 2014 | permalink


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