Sahasrara (Gnosis, or the Heart of an Angel. Part one. Chapters 6–7)
From the forums: Sahasrara
In the realm of spirituality, Sahasrara is the crown chakra that resides at the apex of the skull, connected to the hypothalamus in the brain, representing the pinnacle of energetic centers. It is generally believed that the color of this chakra is violet, and in general, the colors of the chakras change from bottom to top as in the visible spectrum. The 7 primary colors vary from low-frequency red to high-frequency violet. Nevertheless, some Yogis envision Sahasrara as vivid white or gold. The halo seen adorning the heads of saints symbolizes this concept precisely. This chakra opens the door to the spiritual realm, revealing our spiritual origin and higher truth. According to Vedas, love of God, or Bhakti, is the only way to unlock this chakra. As far as I can tell, activating chakras can also be done artificially, by ingesting biologically active substances. For instance, the “Third Eye” chakra is known to be particularly sensitive to neurostimulating hallucinogens. Additionally, practicing Kundalini yoga can also open up the chakras. However, various Yogis maintain that the most genuine way to activate the chakras is by living a conscious, physical, mental, and emotional life. Once the soul and conscience reach a state of readiness, the chakras will open naturally.
2002: Sahasrara
I can’t exactly remember when this happened. All I remember is that my daughter was still young and my son hadn’t been born yet. I do recall it was a church holiday — the Sunday of Repentance, to be exact. I had left my son with my mother and was home alone cleaning when it happened. As I was vacuuming, I caught a glimpse of a priest preaching on television about the significance of the day. Suddenly, I felt a jolt to my head, as if something or someone had hit me. The sensation was so strong and abrupt that I dropped the vacuum hose and froze in place. A strange thought entered my mind, and I muttered to myself out loud, “What am I doing here?” By “here,” I didn’t mean my house, family, or even my country. The thought was much more encompassing than that.
In that moment, I felt a powerful and surreal awareness that everything around me wasn’t mine. This house, this place, this life — none of it belonged to me. My real home was somewhere else, and I must go back. It was as if I was an amnesiac who had suddenly remembered a forgotten past life. The feeling was so intense that it was unbearable. I needed to remember, but I couldn’t. I ran to the icon of Christ, desperate for some kind of help. I stared at the icon with all my might, hoping that it would bring me clarity. Tears streamed down my face, and my eyes burned with intensity. Colors flashed before me, but I didn’t close my eyes. I was determined to keep looking until I remembered what I needed to.
In the end, I fell asleep from exhaustion. When I woke up, everything seemed the same. I couldn’t remember what had happened or why it had affected me so deeply. The only thing that remained was a strange sensation that I felt whenever I thought about God or Christ. It was a tingling feeling that started at the top of my skull and ran down my spine. It brought me joy and comfort, but I couldn’t explain why.
After that day, I forgot about the experience. But I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something significant had happened.
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