What Is Kundalini? A Tantric Understanding

By Bhairav Thomas English

Kuṇḍalinī is one of those words that moves through spiritual circles with great frequency and very little precision. It is spoken of in yoga studios, referenced in books on awakening, woven into the language of modern wellness — and yet, for most people who use it, its actual meaning remains elusive. What is this energy, really? Where does it come from? What happens when it awakens? And perhaps most importantly: what does it ask of us?

These are not questions I can answer in the abstract. I have been working with kuṇḍalinī śakti for over twenty-five years — in my own body, in my practice, and in the bodies and practices of students. What I offer here comes not from scholarly review alone but from decades of direct empirical encounter with this current. That is the only ground on which I can speak with any confidence.

What Kundalini Actually Means

The word kuṇḍalinī comes from Sanskrit and is most commonly translated as "coiled serpent." It refers to an energy described in the classical Tantric texts as lying dormant at the base of the spine — coiled three-and-a-half times in Mūlādhāra, the root Cakra — like a sleeping snake. This is not metaphor for the sake of poetry. The serpent image points to something specific: a coiled, latent potential that can unwind and rise, and that carries enormous power in its movement.

In the Tantric tradition, this energy is not separate from consciousness. Kuṇḍalinī is understood as Śakti herself — the dynamic, living force of the universe — dwelling within the human body in a concentrated, as-yet-unrealized form. The entire project of a kuṇḍalinī practice is to awaken this Śakti and allow her to ascend through the Cakra system, culminating in union with Śiva — pure consciousness — at the crown of the head. This union is not a metaphor. It is the experiential realization of nonduality.

Kuṇḍalinī and the Cakra System

To understand kuṇḍalinī, one must understand the Cakra system — not the simplified, New Age version that reduces each Cakra to a color and an affirmation, but the system as it appears in classical sources, particularly the Ṣaṭ Cakra Nirūpaṇa, the foundational text upon which this teaching is based.

The Cakras are not physical organs. They are intersections within the subtle body — points where the nāḍīs, the energetic channels that carry prāṇa throughout the body, converge with particular intensity. The human subtle body contains over 72,000 nāḍīs, and the Cakras represent the major junctions within this network. Three nāḍīs are primary: the Suṣumnā, which runs along the central channel of the spine; the Iḍā, which moves on the left; and the Piṅgalā, which moves on the right. These three weave together, and their meeting points are the Cakras.

Kuṇḍalinī śakti, when awakened, rises through the Suṣumnā nāḍī, piercing each Cakra in turn. Each piercing corresponds to a significant shift in consciousness, perception, and the quality of lived experience. The personality may remain recognizable, but the grip of identification loosens. One begins to perceive dimensions of reality that were previously inaccessible.

The classical system recognizes seven primary Cakras, each associated with a specific location in the subtle body, an element, a bīja mantra, a deity pair, and a characteristic quality of consciousness. Moving from root to crown:

• Mūlādhāra — the root Cakra, associated with earth, stability, and the seat of kuṇḍalinī itself. This is where the serpent rests and where awakening begins.

• Svādhiṣṭhāna — the sacral Cakra, associated with water, emotion, creativity, and relational life. When kuṇḍalinī energy becomes active here without proper guidance, it can become fixated in the domain of sensory pleasure and sexual desire, losing sight of the larger aim.

• Maṇipūra — the navel Cakra, associated with fire and the awakening of personal will and transformative power. The meditative purpose of this Cakra is specifically to awaken the fire of kuṇḍalinī and begin purifying the nāḍīs for the energy's upward movement.

• Anāhata — the heart Cakra, associated with air and the beginning of selfless love. Anahata marks the transition from self-centered experience to a more expansive, inclusive awareness. It is here that the lower energies begin to be offered upward.

• Viśuddha — the throat Cakra, associated with space (ākāśa) and purification. Its activation corresponds to a movement away from ordinary social life and toward a more inward, spiritually oriented existence.

• Ājñā — the third eye, the seat of mental clarity, intuition, and inner vision. Here the iḍā and piṅgalā nāḍīs converge with the suṣumnā, and the practitioner begins to approach the dissolution of duality.

• Sahasrāra — the crown, associated with pure consciousness itself — Śiva without form. The arrival of kuṇḍalinī here is the culmination of the path: the direct, unmediated experience of unity with universal consciousness, the dissolving of the illusion of separation.

How Kuṇḍalinī Awakens

For most practitioners, kuṇḍalinī awakens gradually — not in a single dramatic event, but through sustained, consistent practice over many years. This gradual pace is actually a gift. It allows the body and mind time to assimilate higher states of reality without being overwhelmed by them. The nervous system adjusts, the subtle body strengthens, and the practitioner develops the capacity to hold increasingly refined states of energy and awareness.

The practices that work most directly with kuṇḍalinī are those of the Tantric tradition: prāṇāyāma, specific mudrās, mantra, yantra, āsana, and deep meditation. These are not techniques simply for physical health or stress relief. They are precision instruments for moving prāṇa śakti through the subtle body, purifying the nāḍīs, and creating the conditions in which kuṇḍalinī can begin to rise without obstruction.

In rare cases, kuṇḍalinī can activate spontaneously — without a teacher, without preparation, and sometimes without any spiritual context at all. These cases can be profoundly disorienting. Without understanding of what is happening, without the container of a tradition, and without the guidance of someone who has traversed this territory before, spontaneous kuṇḍalinī activation can feel frightening, destabilizing, or even pathological. The energy is not malevolent — but it is powerful, and power without direction can cause harm.

Signs That Kuṇḍalinī Is Moving

There are recognizable signs that kuṇḍalinī śakti is active or awakening. Being aware of these is important — not so that you chase them, but so that you can recognize them and communicate them to your teacher.

Physical signs can include a creeping or crawling sensation along the spinal cord, tingling throughout the body, a feeling of heaviness in the head, spontaneous laughing or crying, unusual sounds in the ears, visions of luminous forms, and a sense that the body is floating or being pressed downward. One may notice changes in digestion, spontaneous chanting of mantras, or an inability to open the eyes despite effort. Tremors in the body, shifts in saliva production, and a feeling of prāṇa moving through the brain are also commonly reported.

These phenomena, when they arise, should not be sources of fear — as long as they are not accompanied by pain or sustained tension. They are signs of the energy doing its work. The caution here is important, though: one should not fixate on these signs or seek them out for their own sake. The moment we begin practicing in order to produce phenomena, we lose the thread of genuine sādhana and risk becoming attached to the appearance of progress rather than the substance of transformation.

The Necessity of a Teacher

I want to say something plainly here, because it is often glossed over in the contemporary conversation about kuṇḍalinī: the classical yogic texts are unambiguous on this point. Working with kuṇḍalinī without proper guidance from a qualified teacher is genuinely dangerous. Not metaphorically dangerous. The texts speak of insanity, paralysis, and physical harm as potential consequences of working with this energy in an uninstructed, forceful, or careless way.

This is not said to frighten anyone away from the path. It is said because it is true, and because the honesty of this caution is itself part of the teaching.

A teacher who has worked with kuṇḍalinī — who has moved through the Cakra system in their own body over years of sustained practice, under the guidance of their own teacher — can do something that no book or video can: they can read where the energy is in a student's system, prepare the body and mind accordingly, and guide the energy upward in a way that prevents it from becoming stuck. Energy that stagnates at the lower Cakras creates specific and recognizable problems. The teacher's job is to move the kuṇḍalinī in a manner proportionate to the student's readiness, steadily and with care.

The teacher-student relationship in kuṇḍalinī work is also a container of mutual commitment. The teacher agrees to provide the practices; the student agrees to do them — not occasionally, not out of curiosity, but with persistence, dedication, and a genuine desire to grow spiritually. This is not a transactional relationship. It is a sacred one.

What Kuṇḍalinī Is Not

Given how widely the word is used today, it is worth naming a few of the common misunderstandings.

Kuṇḍalinī is not a sexual energy in the way the term is typically used in neo-Tantric circles. While Svādhiṣṭhāna — the Cakra associated with creative and procreative energy — is part of the kuṇḍalinī's ascent, kuṇḍalinī śakti itself is not primarily concerned with sexual awakening. Conflating the two is one of the more persistent distortions in the Western reception of Tantric teaching.

Kuṇḍalinī is also not a quick path to bliss or an experience to be sought for its own sake. The great sages and yogis who mapped this territory were not pleasure-seeking. They were practitioners devoted to the realization of their fullest potential as human beings — the recognition of their unity with universal consciousness. Kuṇḍalinī is the vehicle for that realization, not the destination itself.

And kuṇḍalinī is not something that happens once. It is an ongoing process of awakening that unfolds over the course of a dedicated life of practice. Each deepening reveals new dimensions, new places where the energy can move more freely, new layers of identification that are ready to be released.

The Invitation

Working with kuṇḍalinī śakti is one of the most profound commitments a practitioner can make. It asks something real of you — not just time and consistency, but genuine aspiration and a willingness to be changed. The energy, once invited and kindled, does not leave your life unchanged. That is, of course, the point.

If you feel drawn to this path — if there is a quiet longing in you to go deeper into the living science of the subtle body, the Cakra system, and the current of kuṇḍalinī śakti — I would encourage you to find a teacher who has traveled this road themselves. Not someone who has read about it extensively, but someone who knows it from the inside.

That is the only way this transmission has ever been passed on. Teacher to student. Body to body. Lineage to lineage. That is how it comes to you.

Bhairav Thomas English is the co-founder of Anuttara and the author of The Kundalini Handbook: For Healers and Teachers. He leads the Kuṇḍalinī Training at Anuttara — a transmission-based immersion in the Cakra system and the science of kuṇḍalinī śakti. Join the waitlist →