What I Mean When I Say Kundalini

Kundalini can arise in many different ways.

For some, it’s experienced through emotion, waves of feeling, release, or deep tenderness.
For others, it may show up as physical movement, subtle sensations in the body, changes in breath, or shifts in awareness.
Sometimes there are visuals or spiritual experiences.
And sometimes, nothing obvious happens at all.

All of these experiences are valid.

There isn’t a single way Kundalini is meant to look or feel. And a quieter or less noticeable experience doesn’t mean that nothing is happening. Much of this work unfolds beneath the surface, gradually and intelligently, often before it is consciously recognised.

When nothing seems to be happening

One of the most important things I’ve learned is that Kundalini doesn’t require constant sensation or visible movement to be effective.

Stillness can be part of the process.
So can gentleness.
So can patience.

The body has its own timing. Even when nothing appears to be shifting, the nervous system may be settling, reorganising, or building a sense of safety, which is often what allows deeper movement to happen later on.

Nothing needs to be forced or produced.

Surrender and safety

At the heart of this work is surrender, not as something to strive for, but as something that naturally becomes possible when a person feels safe.

Kundalini responds to the conditions it’s held within. When the body feels supported and looked after, there’s space to soften, to let go of control, and to allow energy to move in its own way.

My role is to create and hold that space.

I’m not here to push or provoke experience, but to ensure that the person I’m working with feels grounded, safe, and guided through what can be a deeply vulnerable process.

Guiding the energy

When Kundalini does begin to move more clearly through the body, it doesn’t always do so in a straight line.

Part of my role is to support that movement, helping the energy travel through the body in a way that feels contained, integrated, and manageable for the nervous system.

This guidance isn’t about directing or controlling the experience, but about working with what is already arising, gently and attentively, so the person feels accompanied rather than overwhelmed.

The value of slowness

In my experience, Kundalini is best allowed to come slowly.

A gradual unfolding is far easier for the nervous system to process and for everyday life to hold. It allows time for integration, time for insight, sensation, and change to find their place within relationships, work, rest, and ordinary routines.

Slowness supports sustainability.
It allows awakening to be lived, not just experienced.

How I hold this work

Everything I offer is shaped around care, safety, and respect for inner authority.

There is no expectation placed on what should happen or how an experience should appear. Each person’s body and system are trusted to guide the process in the way that’s right for them.

My role is to walk alongside, to hold space, to guide when needed, and to respond to what arises with steadiness and presence.

A gentle closing

Kundalini doesn’t demand effort, performance, or belief. It asks for listening, trust, and time.

Whether your experience is subtle, expressive, or quiet, it is enough.

This work isn’t about reaching something extraordinary — it’s about learning how to stay present with what’s already moving, and allowing it to unfold safely, gently, and in its own way.