Five years ago, I established a daily Kundalini Yoga practice and planted the seed of Sat Nam - truth - breathing in Sat and exhaling Nam. I tenderly cared for it and watered it with purifying tears. I didn’t know what would sprout from its seed, but somehow knew it had to be a priority over everything else in my life.
Truth slowly grew until it couldn’t be ignored. Sat Nam—a powerful seed of truth—a seed that when cultivated, slowly pushes its way through the sidewalk of denial and fear. Sat Nam vibrates and elevates me above a painful past, clearing the pathway forward. Sat Nam pulsates in my energy field. As the delicate seedling emerges, it shakes off false beliefs, negative thought patterns, and limitations that have weighed it down since the beginning. As it matures, it offers fruits of clarity, flowers of self-love, berries of freedom, and seeds of inspired creativity. Its delicate fragrance is trust.
Sat Nam is a change agent for those healing from a traumatic past. Were you raised in an environment where it wasn’t safe to know, walk or speak the truth? Where perception and reality were miles apart? What if truth was a mind-losing fear? What if you played a part in a fictional storyline and your role was to behave as if all was well? What if you believed your own storyline for most of your life? Who was I if not my fictional character? Sat Nam helped me find out.
Truth was buried deep within my psyche. Sat Nam slowly revived it and brought it to its fuller flower of truth—a truth that is both beautiful, like a rose, and very painful, like its thorns—thorns that hurt me and sometimes send me spiraling. Mantra propelled me through forces blocking my path. I pushed through overgrown invasive thoughts. I cut away ivy of ancestral patterns. I persevered through prickly flowers of confusion and doubt and stepped over potholes of fear.
Finding truth is only part of the path. I often chose to step over it and keep moving. It hurts when I allow myself to see clearly, much less feel. It takes patience and a belief that truth will lead to more healing than harm. It won’t kill me. I won’t lose my mind. Love slowly softens the fear blocking the path, like the innocent deer in the forest, coming face to face with an ogre. Ogre may growl and behave ferociously but it melts under her innocent, loving energy. It is no match for her innocence and vibration.
I explore the relationship with myself and with infinite consciousness—a love affair with trees, water, wind, and a turtle in a clear ocean. I explore deep love and compassion for myself and my little child self, little Janet. The natural world holds me and gives me gifts of birdsong, a breeze, and a yellow snail slowly making its way on green grass. I create adventures: a dip in cold predawn black water, solo camping, biking up hills, and berry picking.
It takes trust and courage to let familiar things fall away—relationships, jobs, habits—one’s own coping mechanisms. Patience and self-care are part of its lesson. Only through experiencing the vibration of the truth can we know, live, walk, and finally, speak the truth. As the false beliefs are shed, we mourn the letting go of those parts of ourselves—parts that we thought we needed for survival. And the relationships that fall away with it? They are meant to go. Those that stay are meant to stay. And we meet new friends, fellow journeyers. Wise ones. Teachers.
Sat Nam aligned me with my inner child and elevated her voice. She let me know that her needs were not being met and that her needs and my needs were out of alignment: out of alignment with spirit. It led to resignation from a long career. Sat Nam sent me to Hawaii, volunteering on a farming project; and sitting with lava rocks, wind, and owl. Sat Nam led me to a vision quest and the writing of a memoir, launched on February 9, 2023 (available for purchase at https://www.rosehip26.com/order ).
Each day, I greet the mat and see what kriya bubbles up. The Kriya for Self Reliance is a go-to, especially when I am very tired and having a hard time getting up pre-dawn. The postures are held with long, slow breaths and settle my nerves. It’s a practice that I can ease into. At the end of the kriya is a Sat Nam mantra: Sat Nam with the head to the right as if looking over the right shoulder, and Wahe Guru looking to the left. When looking to the right, it’s about representing yourself as a unit identity of truth; and when looking left, the mantra is about reliance on infinite wisdom. According to 3HO, if you have self-reliance, you are protected and fearless.
The Seven Wave Sat Nam meditation spirals Sat Nam vibration from the root through the 7 chakras and the 8th chakra at the crown. It releases negative patterns as healthier ones are introduced and established. And Sat Nam, Sat Nam, Sat Nam, Sat Nam, Sat Nam, Sat Nam Wahe Guru clears blocks and helps persevere through challenges. These meditations are in my back pocket and available to me wherever I am in the world.
At times, fear overwhelms me, leading to poor sleep, nightmares, and food for comfort. The Kriya to Relax and Release Fear is a powerful energy release that increases its impact through repetition. It moves stuck energy and cleanses the liver, where fear resides. When I feel overwhelmed by fear, when it pulls me towards old coping mechanisms, I turn to this kriya. At the end, I feel lighter from the release of heavy energy, and humble as I bow my forehead to the earth, pooling energy in the ajna chakra. Then I meditate with no separation between God and me. I end in prayer. In the weeks leading up to the book release and revealing my painful truths to the world, I relied on this kriya to get me centered many mornings.
The Pituitary Gland Series is for the master gland, for intuition and trust—learning to accept my power and my knowing. 3HO reports that when the pituitary gland is balanced, it allows us to be in harmony with our soul. The Nabhi Kriya strengthens the navel center. I fill up with energy from the universe for strength, conviction, and power. And when I’m tired, I like starting a kriya where I get to lie down - haha.
Whichever kriya I select, every practice ends with, what I call, the “icing on the cake.” The sequence is a series of postures that I practice every day. They are part of my daily constitution. They represent doing what I think I can’t do or, to put it another way, I need them. They are good for me. I wrote about it in a blog “I can’t. I am. I did. Lessons from Uncomfortable Positions.” These postures allow me to practice and embody the co-existence of vulnerability, strength, and safety. The bow pose, in particular, led to cleansing tears for a few years and then the tears slowed as the energy shifted and I learned that I was safe in the vulnerable posture. I practiced feeling safe when physically uncomfortable. When a posture brings you to tears? When physical discomfort triggers past trauma? It may be worth exploring—slowly, with love, every day.
My wish for my journey is this: May I see what I don’t yet see. May I feel safe enough to feel what I have avoided. May I learn what I haven’t yet learned. May I speak what I have not yet dared to say. May I live what I have not dared to dream. May I relinquish what no longer serves. May I be at peace with myself. May I step into my highest power. May I hold love and forgiveness for all, including myself. And may you do the same. Sat Nam.