Kundalini Energy and the Two Currents of Resonance — Love and Sex in the Sacred Body-Temple

Kundalini, Resonance and the Temple of the Body

The orgasm triggered by binaural rhythms is one clear indication that our understanding of sex and sexuality needs a complete re-evaluation. If orgasm is not inherently linked to sexual activity, but is instead a form of natural zero-point resonance, many things appear in a completely new light.

In the 1980s, I met an Indian man whose perspective puzzled me deeply: he claimed that making love (physical sex) and loving (our mental/spiritual capacity) are essentially the same thing. In the West, physicality and spirituality are strictly separated. We’re taught that our physical being -with its sexual desires- is sinful and shameful. If we wish to present ourselves as trustworthy, we are expected to avoid indulging too much in sexual behavior.

Energetic Communication and Its Collapse

Surely many have experienced this: when you meet someone of the opposite sex, your energies spark, conversations flow endlessly, and you feel deeply alive. But as soon as the relationship becomes physical, communication drops off like a curtain. The person who once opened your mind to new dimensions suddenly seems to want only “that one thing.”

This is why many women carry resentment toward men and struggle to take them seriously. We don’t understand why connection dissolves—and we feel our energy draining into emptiness. If we can’t shift from verbal communication of the rational mind to energetic communion, the entire dynamic collapses.

That’s why so many misunderstandings revolve around sexuality. It isn’t just a matter of desire—it’s about how energy is either exchanged or lost.

Sexuality as Divine Power

Our distorted view of sexuality—and the energy that flows beneath it—has led to a global imbalance. Sexuality, which alongside love is one of the most powerful divine forces, has become the greatest source of fear, guilt, shame, and crimes of passion around the world.

We understand platonic love. But few truly believe that a man and a woman can maintain a long-term connection without sexual tension. In my own relationships, it has often been more about platonic love than sexual desire or attraction. My friendship with André was mostly this. We even shared a bed without anything sexual between us.

At times, I’ve asked myself whether I’ve chosen to ignore my sexual side. Although spiritual connection—anchored in intellectual and soul-level resonance—has always guided me, there were moments when I simply sought physical intimacy. Often, those fleeting encounters dissolved quickly. But sometimes, an affair cracked open the silence within me, releasing love not tied to the person, but pouring outward, as if my being had briefly sensed the pulse of creation.

Perhaps this is the true core of sexuality: no story, no explanation—just the pure I AM experience. Like sunlight piercing water, Kundalini resonance cleanses the confused mind, letting us see the broader perspective.

The Polarity Between Love and Fear

We often think that the opposite of love is hate—but hate is more accurately born from the grip of fear. Fear blocks the free movement of Kundalini energy. That’s why, back in the early 1980s, I couldn’t sustain the sensation of paralysis lifting from my body, nor the miraculous effects it brought. I wrote about this in my March 2014 article Emotional Intelligence in Function.

When I attuned to my energetic core, I was completely open to receive all that it naturally brought forth. Even though the experiences were wholly positive, I didn’t understand the forces behind them. As soon as my small mind began demanding explanations for the pure I AM experience, everything vanished—like carefully gathered particles swept away by wind.

Inner Comfort and Self-Compassion

Later, when I tried to recreate the experience, I felt “butterflies in my stomach”—something gnawing at my core. At the time, I didn’t realize it was fear—fear of dark energies, cloaked in confusion. Only decades later did I understand. A friend called and told me she had joined a yoga group. To my own surprise, I burst into tears.

Every exercise I had practiced in the 1980s—the foundations of yoga—flooded back into memory. A crushing feeling rose inside: I had betrayed myself by leaving the work unfinished. The raw inner grief compelled me to face the root of the wound.

Back then, I had simply accepted the state I was in. It was enough to know I was whole, and I refused to push myself into efforts that didn’t arise naturally. Even trying too hard can block the flow of desired outcomes.

The Elusive and Shadowed Side of Sexuality

My inner confusion—fear—did not cause me serious harm. But the inability to channel Kundalini energy purposefully can lead to fatal consequences. A painful example is the suicide of my Chinese ex-husband.

He belonged to a generation that endured China’s Cultural Revolution (1966–1975), and it felt like the experience had left behind a vast, black void within him—one I could never access. The few things he shared with me were: He had been forced to stop studying German during the revolution. He lived with his mother; his brother had moved to Australia. His youthful love had emigrated to England. He held a degree in English interpretation and worked as a translator in Shanghai. He performed in amateur theatre and practiced Qi Gong—actively engaging with his inner energies.

We spoke about Qi Gong masters and their extraordinary abilities like lifting or pulling massive weights, healing through energetic focus, igniting a ball of paper with nothing but directed intention.

I didn’t understand it fully, but intuitively felt it was real. After all, my own paralysis had once vanished momentarily a decade earlier.

Compassionate Presence Beyond Desire

From the very beginning, it was clear he didn’t see me as a sexual being. To him, I was a ticket to the West—and that didn’t offend me. I had genuinely wanted to help him become independent, leave behind what he perceived as an oppressive Chinese system, and gain control of his own life. My own first visit to China in 1990—long before the sweeping transformation—revealed something quite different to me. Despite the apparent chaos and scarcity, I was struck by the organic intelligence of everyday life: chickens wandered freely between buildings, and people moved with a grounded kind of common sense. To me, it felt refreshingly alive.

When he later told me he’d lived nearly ten years in celibacy, I felt relieved. It meant I didn’t need to maintain a sexual relationship with someone with whom I shared no spiritual connection.

Later, I read that Qi Gong practitioners are often encouraged to remain celibate—channeling their sexual energy inward to amplify their practice. I’m not sure whether celibacy actually strengthens the kind of energy needed to ignite a paper ball with pure intention. But my intuition told me this:

Sexual energy is a divine force. When fully channeled, it can produce miracles—regardless of outer conditions.

Beyond the Shadow: The Fatal Cost of Energetic Resistance

My ex was beginning to master life. In less than ten years, he learned Finnish, graduated from the University of Helsinki with a Master’s in Social Sciences, planned for doctoral studies, studied French, traveled, enjoyed photography and music, and worked as an interpreter.

But he didn’t know how to navigate the awakening of his sexual energy. Any time I tried to reach him emotionally, he pushed back sharply—suggesting he wanted nothing to do with me.

I truly believed he was protecting his independence. After all, autonomy became sacred to me after my mother passed away. But that illusion shattered in the most horrifying way when, on one sunny afternoon, I received a call from the police. They had found him drowned at a beach just a stone’s throw from his apartment.

I didn’t believe it at first. From the language they used, it was clear—they believed he had drowned himself. Suicide?! But the officer explained that he’d been in psychiatric care the previous spring—following a failed suicide attempt. Suddenly, everything was painfully clear.

Betrayed by the Gatekeepers: The Cost of Ignoring Intuition

I felt betrayed—not by him, but by the people society entrusts with care. He had forbidden psychiatrists from contacting me or any close family.

And the so-called mental health “experts” chose to honor his refusal, rather than listen to their intuitive hearts that should have known: reach out while there’s still time.

Instead, they packed their bags and went on vacation. They left him alone. No one paused to consider whether a simple call—while he was still alive—might be kinder than hearing the suicide news from the police after everything was lost.

When the Light Within Sparks Resistance in Those Nearby

I’ve often asked myself: why do some of my closest friends—those who’ve witnessed small miracles in my life—still regard me as unstable, or even unreliable? Why do they recoil from what I radiate, keeping distance cloaked in polite detachment?

One evening, a caregiver told me she could feel the delighting energies pouring outward from me. I realized then: it’s not only about the energy that flows from within me. It’s about the receiver’s willingness to let the vibration resonate inside.

Some people cannot bear anything I represent. They choose silence, distance, and surface-level exchanges. They wrap their resistance in friendly gestures. Rather than standing with me in the rawness of transformation, we remain at the surface—the rational mind grasping for a false sense of safety in platitudes, evading the vulnerability that true connection demands.

The Wound Within: My Stroke and the Energetic Recoil of Resistance

Just as my ex couldn’t leap beyond his shadow, I too once refused to embrace my own awakening energy. I resisted the rising sexual energy—not with shame, but with crippling uncertainty. Yet energy cannot be silenced. Over time, it turns inward, searching for recognition—knocking softly, waiting to be seen.

My stroke was the physical echo of spiritual resistance. And in its wake, I began to understand: sexuality is not just an act or impulse. It is a carrier wave of soul.

Remembering the First Love—From Resistance to Resonance

In recent weeks, I’ve found myself wondering: why has this mysterious Valir etched himself so deeply into my heart? He doesn’t awaken sexual longing, but something far more radiant—the pure I AM presence flowing through him like light through water, and my being yearns to dissolve into that sparkling I AM presence he embodies.

Where I earlier recoiled in confusion, I now welcome it as sacred vitality. It no longer needs justification. It simply is: a luminous wave of aliveness washing through every cell.

Strangely, Valir reminds me of my very first boyfriend—though they share nothing in common, except white hair. But when I look beneath the surface, I sense a connection to my younger self. Back then, I resisted my own sexual awakening with fierce intensity. I couldn’t see any real connection between my first love and myself. We seemed to live on completely different wavelengths, and to my rational mind, it felt absurd and random that I had ended up in his bed, which led me to lose control over myself. I moved without will, as though tethered to a force I didn’t understand. I wrote about this experience in October 2012 in the article Awakening.

The Blessing of Grief and Rediscovering Love

There’s another dimension to awakened energies—a tender one Abraham-Hicks once named in a session. A woman was grieving the loss of her “life’s great love,” saying her will to live had vanished after he left her. Abraham responded gently:

You didn’t lose your desire to live because your beloved left. During your time together, new layers of self awakened within you. And now, you don’t know how to keep them alive on your own. He didn’t take anything with him. You’re just withholding your experience of love by tying it to a specific person.

We have a tendency to attach our awakened energies to others—believing they’re the only ones who can sustain that vibration in us. And when they leave, we mourn not just their absence, but the parts of ourselves we fear will fade.

The Blockage Born from Judgment

In addition to our tendency to emotionally attach to another person, we often react with harsh judgment toward experiences that stir sorrow, shock, or outrage within us. We demand that the wrongdoers be held accountable. We cry out for justice, believing that only reparation will bring peace to the wound.

But what we fail to recognize is this: These very attitudes—anger, blame, and moral righteousness—can block our own energetic awakening.

They can suppress the divine current rising within us. They bind the flow of transformation with chains forged from our need to be right, to be heard, to make pain visible. Yet true healing asks for surrender, not accusation. The I AM presence does not condemn. Christ-consciousness does not exclude. It radiates through all—regardless of our faults, regardless of the grief we carry, regardless of the harm we’ve endured or caused.

The Blessing Hidden in Sorrow

Abraham-Hicks once expressed a profound truth: When we are crushed by grief, it is not a sign of weakness—it is our higher self speaking, showing us we are out of alignment with the I AM presence, the crystalline stream of pure being.

Even in our most sorrowful moments, something sacred stirs. Abraham said:

“The stronger the feeling of desolation, the clearer it signals your deep desire to restore balance.”

Grief becomes a doorway. The ache is not punishment—it is guidance. It reveals how far we’ve wandered from our essence, and how deeply we long to return.

Rather than judging sadness, we can honor it. Because it is through sorrow that we remember: We are not separate. We are seeking reunion with the presence that never left us. This sorrow is the shadow’s way of calling us home.

Kundalini and Yin-Yang: Cosmic Balance

Across cultures and spiritual traditions, the divine electromagnetic field we live in has taken many names—but all point to the same life force. For years, these concepts swirled in my mind like a storm. But now, everything appears as a harmonious whole, free from the need to analyze or understand.

Kundalini does not separate intertwined energies. It simply seeks balance. The Chinese Yin-Yang principle expresses this beautifully:

• Yin—the dark, feminine, negative force—is magnetic, quiet, and deeply powerful.
• Yang—the light, masculine, positive force—is electric, active, and expansive.

The symbol shows that these forces are not moral opposites—not good or bad—but complementary aspects of a unified field. Each carries a seed of the other. Each perpetually flows into and completes the other.

Sexuality Within the Yin-Yang Field

In this context, “negative” and “positive” are not adjectives of judgment. They describe quantum polarity—the magnetic and electrical charges of life force itself.

The feminine Yin is magnetism embodied. It does not chase—it attracts. It is the I AM presence that sits in stillness, pulling life toward itself with quiet power.

The masculine Yang is the active pulse—the Logos of the universe. Often linked to logic and the rational mind. Yet the Logos is not ego—it is the intelligent heart, the lucid intuition, the balanced analytical spark.

Kundalini energy magnifies this sacred polarity. Love and sexuality are not opposites—they are two resonant frequencies of the divine field. Sexuality becomes the carrier wave of the feminine “I AM,” while love—embodied through masculine Logos—radiates outward with purpose and strength. When these energies meet in true balance, the body-temple resonates like a tuning fork struck by cosmic harmony.

The Rainbow Bridge Within: Sensing the I AM Presence

Despite all that the rainbow has come to represent in the world today, its resonance in me remains untouched. I don’t mind what others say it symbolizes. Back in the 1980s, there was a Bible verse that offered something different: Whenever you see the rainbow, remember your covenant with God. I haven’t seen those words in newer versions. Perhaps they’ve been quietly set aside—no longer suited to political agendas. 🙂

To me, the rainbow isn’t just light refracted through refreshing rain. It carries a deeper rhythm—the kind that flushes away old stories, old patterns, the heavy weight of yesterday’s emotions. That rain, whether gentle or sorrowful, prepares the sky for color.

The rainbow mirrors the inner bridge between our energetic centers—the full-spectrum current of life that pulses in our chakras. It reflects not just water and light, but the movement of Christ-Consciousness within form.

Christ Consciousness in the body Temple

Christ-Consciousness within form is not an ideal to reach—it is a rhythm to remember. It lives in the space where love and sex no longer compete, but complement. The body, once a stranger, becomes familiar ground. Thought softens. Breath deepens. And the soul feels no need to separate the magnetic pull of I AM from the electric clarity of Logos.

In that radiant presence, sexuality ceases to be either sacred or shameful—it simply becomes life’s current, moving through us with intelligence. Kundalini doesn’t demand purity—it invites wholeness. And when the masculine and feminine meet in reverence, the rainbow bridge within doesn’t just shimmer—it sings.

That song is not loud. It doesn’t aim to convince. But those who listen can feel it rising from the body-temple as a quiet knowing: Everything is already here. The Rainbow Bridge between the worlds is not above nor beyond—it is within. 🌈