When Kundalini Awakens

On a chilly December afternoon, with the air biting at her skin and the icy breezes swirling through the Brooklyn Terminal, Diana boarded the Celestial Harmony, a magnificent ship of dreams, for a 7-day Christmas cruise to the Caribbean. Despite the horde of fellow travelers, 5,641 of them, Diana felt a welcome calm radiating from her heart. She couldn’t help but smile.

As the Celestial Harmony glided through the blustery New York Harbor, with its unforgiving temperatures and frantic boat traffic, Diana was curled up inside her stateroom with a book. She embraced the quiet solitude of the moment while looking forward to the third day out when she’d lounge on a deck chair, book in hand, the sun covering her body like a warm blanket. A breeze would catch her floppy hat, the one she paid too much for at JJ’s Hat Center on Fifth Ave, while she savored the sunshine bathing her porcelain legs.

Despite being on this adventure alone, Diana felt no desire to seek a romantic connection. This wasn't that kind of cruise, and that suited her just fine. The scars of her tumultuous marriage, a chapter closed only eight months ago, were still fresh. The ink on her divorce papers may have dried, but the wounds were deep and tender. Having shed almost thirty pounds during her battles with the attorneys and her now ex-husband, she found herself on a voyage of discovery and healing. The Celestial Harmony would be her island of self-renewal. She hoped to return with honest peace and the Christmas spirit. Things she had all but lost in the decade-long conflict with her husband.

Although her decision to embark on this journey was made on the day her divorce was final, it wasn’t made in haste. For years the Caribbean islands beckoned, and with newfound freedom, Diana responded with a resolute "Why the hell not?" The mere thought of her ex-husband's running excuse, “…but I get seasick,” was a distant memory as she embraced this once-in-her-lifetime chance to escape Brooklyn's snowy streets, icy winds, and red-faced crowds.

As the ship slipped into open waters, Diana found herself not only leaving behind the cold of Brooklyn but the weight of her past. She imagined the Caribbean breezes carrying whispers of a new chapter, a chance to reinvent herself and embrace whatever warmth life had to offer. In the gentle motion of the ship, Diana sensed a soothing rhythm in the journey.

While the tall, dark, and handsome skyscrapers on the shore melted into the coastline, Diana couldn't help but feel the weight of old memories surfacing, memories she had long tried to bury. Her mind drifted back to Christmas ten years ago. It was the start of a bleak chapter, one she could not erase from the story of her life. It was the first Christmas of her marriage, a day that began and ended in darkness.

On that Christmas morning, the air was charged with festive anticipation, but László, Diana’s new husband, chose to stay beneath the covers, refusing to partake in the holiday spirit. "It's my vacation too," he declared, indifferent to a cherished family tradition of unwrapping presents before the sun graced the horizon. Despite her annoyance, Diana, still wearing her rose-tinted honeymoon glasses, chose not to make a fuss.

However, her mother, not willing to overlook László's indifference, blurted, "After all the hard work I've put into making Christmas special." Her frustration boiled over. In a moment of anger, she stormed up the stairs to his bedroom, yanked the covers off László, and demanded that he, “Wake up and get your ass out of bed!” This explosion of angst had been building for days, fueled by László's deliberate attempts to alienate and annoy his mother-in-law, neglecting family chores, causing heated political arguments, and worst of all, treating Diana like his personal slave.

After the "Wake up!" blow-up, Diana sought refuge in the bathroom, locking herself away from the chaos. In that vulnerable moment, she became nauseous and vomited. The tender-hearted soul within her was deeply and permanently altered. Blaming her mother for the turbulent start to Christmas morning and her marriage, Diana made a solemn vow never to set foot in her mother's house again—and she has kept that promise.

After the distant shoreline had been absorbed by the frigid waters, Diana couldn't escape a nagging sorrow that caught in her bosom when she thought of her mother. In the hope of clearing her mind, Diana decided to do some exploring. On the long walk to her cabin, she passed a little coffee shop and decided to venture out to see what kind of herbal teas they had. “Surely they’ll have an exotic selection,” she murmured. Her favorites were Earl Grey and Gyokuro.

After another long walk and up one level, she found the very small tearoom. It only had four round metal tables, each with two dainty white chairs, the type you might find in an ice cream parlor. At the counter, she ordered a cup of Gyokuro tea and took a seat. Placing her book and the tea on the table she relaxed and waited for her cup to cool. Diana didn’t dive into her novel right away, instead, she took a few moments to absorb her surroundings and watch the passengers as they flitted by the door.

Before her tea had cooled enough to sip, a gaunt, wiry man with tinted glasses, wearing a red Fedora, a forest green sweater, and black pants walked in and sat at the table across from Diana. He didn’t order any tea or coffee; he just took a seat and silently drummed his fingers on the table.

That’s very odd, Diana thought. I wonder if he thinks a waitress will take his order. After opening her book and stealing glances at the stranger, she decided to speak. “Sir, excuse me, but you’ll need to order at the counter. There isn’t a waitress,” she said very politely.

The man nodded as a tight grin pursed his lips, but he remained silent.

Diana focused her eyes on the open page and shifted in her seat to avoid facing the man directly. He gives me the creeps, she thought.

Suddenly, the man, clothed in Christmas colors, popped up out of his chair and walked over to Diana’s table. Gripping the back of a chair, he said in his high-pitched and wheezy voice, “Ma’am, I’ve been waiting for you.”

He was much taller and older than Diana had first noticed. He also had a thick accent. To Diana, it could have been Greek or Eastern European. She was familiar with the Romanian language because her ex was born in Bucharest and lived in Transylvania before immigrating to the US. László used to joke that he and Dracula could have been cousins.

Shyly, she replied to the stranger, “Sir, do we know each other?”

The man gave her a wide grin this time and brusquely said, “Of course not, but I know you.”

Diana shook her head, her cheeks flushed and red. She would always flush when nervous or caught off-guard.

“Do you mind?” he said, sliding the chair from under the table.

Diana did not want any company, but to be polite, she set the book on her lap and slid her teacup over to the table's edge.

“Listen,” the stranger said, sitting down. “You haven’t spoken to her in years.”

Diana, confused, didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you.”

The man clasped his hands and set them on the table. “I said, you haven’t spoken to her in years,” his rodent-like eyes boring into her.

“Whatever are you talking about?” she said, feeling her blood pressure rise.

“Listen.”

Diana noticed that was the second time he started a sentence with—listen.

“Your husband, he told me.”

She took a deep breath, staggered by his statement, but her mind went in a different direction. You are Hungarian, she thought. Diana took a quick breath and corrected the wiry man, sharpness in her voice. “Sir, you mean my ex-husband. And how do you know László?”

The old man ignored her question. “Listen, don’t get upset, I’m not here to scare you; I’m here to help you.”

Diana took the book off her lap and started to get up when the old man yelled, “Stop.”

She froze and sat down.

“Listen. Earlier today, you had thoughts, some very bad thoughts about your mother, didn’t you?”

Diana, stunned and feeling nauseous, nodded, but did not speak.

“Listen,” the wiry man said, rubbing his hands together, his voice more animated. “I know you’re surprised, maybe shocked by my knowledge of your past.”

She nodded slowly. “You could say that,” her voice slightly more than a whisper.

“Christmas ten years ago set you on a bad life path. A path that leads to a bottomless sadness and soul-crushing guilt.”

“But how do you…” she stopped in midsentence.

“How do I know about that?” The old man laughed. “I told you. László, he is one of my grandsons. I traveled from Bucharest to see him this Christmas. And he has regrets about your divorce, I believe.”

The man reached inside his pocket and took out a small orange purse. He carefully pulled the strings on the bag, it yawned open. Shaking the contents ever so gently he said, “Listen, there is still time. But you must forgive to move on.”

Diana heard objects knocking together in the bag. The muffled sound reminded her of acorns jumbling together, or maybe harder things, like marbles.

He then pulled a folded white cloth out of his breast pocket and spread it on the table. When he had it down and flattened all the wrinkles, he set the bag upon it and, with a long bony finger, carefully pulled out seven smooth round beads. Each bead a distinct color. The first bead was purple, the next a greenish blue with black marbling, then a dark blue with white spots, then an amber one, then a tiger’s eye, then a pink one, and finally a deep red bead.

“Have you heard of chakra beads?” he said in his thin, airy voice.

Diana, nervous but charmed by the beauty of the stones was somewhat disarmed by the mysterious old man. She didn’t want to answer, but found herself saying, “I don’t believe I have.”

“They are beautiful, no?”

She nodded.

The stranger continued, "These are not just any beads. They are Kundalini Chakra beads from India, each representing a different energy center within you. You see, I am a practitioner of Kundalini Yoga, and these ancient beads have a unique power to balance and align your chakras."

Diana's curiosity was tempered by skepticism, but now she saw something in the old man's eyes that reflected a measure of sincerity. His once rodent-like eyes had transformed into shining black gems full of light. As he arranged the beads in a circle on the white cloth, he explained, "These beads can be a source of healing, leading you towards a sense of inner peace and divine strength. You've carried the weight of your past for too long, and it's time to release it."

With a gentle motion, he slid the purple bead towards her. "This is the Crown Chakra, representing your connection to the celestial realm. Embrace the spiritual guidance that surrounds you, Diana."

As the old man spoke on, Diana felt a warmth spreading up her spine, a sensation that was enhanced by the chill outside the ship. The greenish-blue bead followed, symbolizing the Throat Chakra, urging her to speak the truth and release unspoken burdens. The explanations progressed, each carrying a message of healing and renewal based on the bead color.

Diana, initially hesitant, found herself captivated by the unfolding ritual. The longer he spoke, the wiry man's voice took on a soothing cadence as he guided her through an inner meditation, encouraging her to let go of the pain, anger, and resentment that she had for her mother.

The colorful old man continued with the lesson. “With this deep red bead, the last bead, representing the Root Chakra,” the man looked into Diana's eyes. "Ground yourself in the present moment, release the roots that tie you to the pain of yesterday, and let new beginnings take hold."

The energy in the tearoom shifted, and Diana felt a deep sense of release. The burden she had carried for her mother, a weight that had clung to her like wet cement, seemed to dissolve with each spoken word. The promise of Caribbean breezes outside the window whispered possibilities of a fresh start, and the Celestial Harmony became more than just a ship; it became a chrysalis of inner transformation.

After the old man had pushed the last bead in place, he smiled. "Listen, you now carry the warmth of the Caribbean within you, Diana. Your journey has begun."

Diana, astonished by the unexpected encounter and the mystical stranger, thanked the wiry old man wearing a funny hat. He rose from the table, leaving the Kundalini Chakra Beads on the white cloth. With a nod, he disappeared into the bustling activities of the cruise ship.

With newfound lightness in her heart, Diana sipped her now-cooled Gyokuro tea. The tearoom, once an ordinary place, had become her sacred enclave where a stranger had shared the gift of transformation and healing. As she left the tearoom, Diana could not help but smile at his exquisite message of hope. The Celestial Harmony, with its destination of a sunlit paradise, had delivered more than she could have imagined—a journey of self-realization, enlightenment, and the warmth of the Caribbean.

Embracing the timeless present, Diana stepped out onto the windblown deck, her floppy hat catching the breeze. She was now more than ready to let the Caribbean sun ignite her spirit with its golden glow. A chilly day in December, which began with a boarding pass and a dream, now held the promise of a heartfelt transformation—one that would resonate far beyond this cruise.

Back in her cabin, Diana picked up her cell phone and dialed the number. “Mom, it’s me!”