When the Body Remembers Before the Mind Does
Art by: Paula Loomis
There are certain moments in life when I feel hollow in a way that words cannot quite explain. Not sad exactly. Not broken. Just paused. As if something inside me is waiting for a signal, a permission slip to begin again.
It is usually in those moments that Kundalini yoga finds me.
I do not go searching for it with intention. It appears. A class suggestion. A memory resurfacing. A quieter inner nudge that says, try this again. And every time, I am a little surprised by how precise the timing feels, as if the practice knows something about me before I do.
I am both a student and a teacher of Kundalini yoga, and yet I do not live inside the practice. I move away from it. I forget it. I do not always teach it, and I do not always practice it. Still, when something inside me begins to stall, when my inner world tightens or grows quiet, it finds me again. Not as a demand, but as an invitation.
Kundalini yoga is often described as a spiritual discipline, but for me it feels more like a conversation with the body. A way of asking questions without words. A way of listening through breath, posture, and sensation rather than thought. I come to the mat not seeking answers, but willing to witness whatever begins to move.
At first, the experience is unmistakably physical. Breath shifts. Muscles stretch, tremble, contract, and release. Heat builds. The spine feels alive, as if energy is learning how to travel upward again. The nervous system responds before the mind has time to interpret.
What I slowly began to realize is that this practice is not only moving my body. It is reorganizing my brain.
The chemistry shifts. Neurons fire differently. Signals travel new pathways, altering how my body prepares to move, respond, and orient itself in space. Muscles engage with less force and more intelligence. Bones feel carried rather than commanded. Even the impulse to act arises from a different place.
It is mind-blowing to witness how breath and posture can influence the most microscopic processes inside the body. How something so ancient can reshape something so modern as neurological patterning. And yet, this is only the beginning.
As the body reorganizes, the mind expands. Thoughts arrive with more space around them. Old mental loops loosen their grip. New perceptions emerge quietly, without announcement. I feel my consciousness stretching, refining, noticing. It is as if I am receiving a new template for thought itself.
I am not forcing transformation. I am watching refinement happen.
Through breathwork, meditation, and repetition, I witness myself shifting. Not becoming someone new, but returning to something more original. My internal frequency changes, and with it, my experience of reality. The way I interpret situations. The way I respond to uncertainty. The way I trust my own inner signals.
This is where the experience becomes exhilarating and unsettling all at once.
Because when your inner world recalibrates, your outer world responds. Relationships shift. Desires refine themselves. Old expectations dissolve. Life begins to reorganize itself around a deeper alignment, and suddenly, the familiar no longer feels true.
And beneath all of it, there is a quiet request.
Pay attention. Breathe. Notice.
The deeper I go into these practices, the more trust is asked of me. Not blind faith. Not certainty. But embodied trust. Trust in my breath. Trust in my intuition. Trust in the intelligence moving through me that does not need my permission to exist.
That trust can feel intimidating. Because once you begin to listen, you cannot unhear. Once you feel the shift, you cannot unknow it. You are asked to move through the world without the old maps, guided instead by sensation, presence, and an inner knowing that grows stronger the more you honor it.
Through Kundalini yoga and breathwork, I have come to experience a force moving through us that cannot be controlled, yet can be met. Some call it God. Some call it Source. I experience it as a living intelligence, flowing through the body, responding to attention, breath, and willingness.
The breath becomes an interface. A bridge between the physical and the unseen. Between brain chemistry and consciousness. Through it, I experience both the illusion of control and the deeper truth of alignment.
I do not write this to convince anyone to practice Kundalini yoga or breathwork. I write it as an offering. A reminder that the body remembers what the mind forgets. That wisdom lives beneath our habits, our fears, and our carefully constructed identities.
Sometimes transformation does not arrive as a breakthrough. Sometimes it arrives as a quiet internal reorganization. A soft shift. A subtle return.
And sometimes, it begins the moment you notice your breath. The moment your body pauses. The moment something inside you whispers, try this again.
If you are reading this now, take a breath. Feel the weight of your body. Notice what is moving beneath the surface. You may find that what you need is already here, quietly waiting for you to see it.
#KundaliniYoga #BreathworkJourney #EmbodiedAwakening
The Intelligence of Breath: Reflection on Sudarshan Chakra Kriya
Breath is one of the most subtle yet powerful tools for connecting with ourselves. Through conscious breathing, we can access deeper awareness, release tension, and restore balance in body, mind, and spirit. In this reflection, I share a personal experience with Sudarshan Chakra Kriya, a transformative breathwork practice I have engaged with for several years. This is a moment from my practice and a glimpse into what unfolds internally as the breath moves through the body, mind, and energy.
Sudarshan Chakra Kriya is a pranayama practice that was taught to me by Yogi Bhajan during my Kundalini Yoga Teacher Trainings. Rooted in the tradition of Kundalini Yoga, it is designed to cleanse the energy channels, balance the nervous system, and harmonize the physical, mental, and energetic aspects of being.
Breathwork has always felt like a bridge between the seen and the unseen, between what I can guide and what I must surrender to. After years of working with Sudarshan Chakra Kriya, pausing and returning to it, I notice that the practice continues to evolve. Each session feels both familiar and new. Each inhale and exhale carries its own story, and even moments of resistance or heaviness reveal something essential about the inner landscape.
I was seated, inhaling long and deep through my left nostril while keeping the right nostril closed. I engaged Mula Bandha, the root lock at the base of the spine, and began pumping my belly rhythmically, three pumps to one beat. The motion felt like a pulse, steady and alive, like the heartbeat of the earth moving within me. With each pump, awareness moved downward and inward, touching something fundamental, almost like uncovering a hidden current.
As I observed this pulse deepening, I became aware of its effects on both body and energy. Physically, this rhythmic engagement stimulates the diaphragm and tones the abdominal region, supporting circulation and oxygenation in the lower body. Energetically, it awakens the root and pelvic centers, lifting prana upward and beginning to clear the inner channels of vitality.
A few minutes in, the inhale began to feel heavy, almost dense, as if the air had to work to find its way in. At first, I felt impatient, noticing subtle resistance in the chest and belly. But staying with it, pumping through the weight, holding the breath, and exhaling through the right nostril revealed something profound. The heaviness itself was teaching me patience, presence, and surrender. The sensation mirrored a kind of inner purification, a clearing of stagnation that the mind might otherwise overlook. Energetically, layers of tension moved, making space for more refined awareness to flow. Mentally, I noticed old thoughts loosening and a subtle softening of habitual judgment and self-criticism.
Then, at some point, the breath changed. It became lighter and smoother. The inhale flowed more freely, almost entirely through the left side. The left nostril felt opened in a new way, shaped into a subtle channel that seemed to reach through the skull and illuminate the left side of my face from within. This was not a surface sensation but an inner movement of breath and awareness.
In yogic language, this could be described as the awakening of Ida Nadi, the cooling lunar current that governs intuition, calm, and inward reflection. Physiologically, left-sided breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system, which supports rest, safety, and integration. It was as if the breath itself was guiding awareness, like a gentle river carving its path through a landscape, revealing hidden contours and quiet spaces I might otherwise overlook.
By the end of the session, it felt as though I was breathing from within the left side of my body, centered, quiet, and spacious. A distinct clarity and softness lingered beyond the practice, a feeling of inner luminosity and ease. I noticed how these shifts carried into daily life. Small moments of stress felt lighter, interactions felt more grounded, and even ordinary breath became a gentle guide back to presence.
Each time I return to this kriya, I am reminded that every breath has its own intelligence. When we listen closely enough, the body begins to teach us what it needs to release, what it is ready to open, and how it wishes to balance itself. Even when the breath feels heavy or the process uncertain, presence itself becomes the teacher.
Through long practice, I have come to understand that every session unfolds across multiple layers. The muscular and respiratory systems shape the physical rhythm of breath. The nervous system mediates our state of being. The energetic body reflects and directs consciousness. Sudarshan Chakra Kriya engages all of these layers simultaneously, creating a bridge between breath and awareness, matter and energy.
Invitation to Practice
Even a few minutes of focused breathing can reveal subtle shifts and insights. You might try this now. Sit comfortably and inhale gently through your left nostril while keeping the right nostril closed. Lightly engage the base of your spine and notice the movement of your belly with each breath. Exhale fully through the right nostril. Observe the sensations, the rhythm, and the quiet awareness behind each inhale and exhale. Allow yourself to simply be with the breath and notice what arises.
Personal Note
I have practiced Sudarshan Chakra Kriya for several years, including intensive periods that brought me into extended meditative states. Every practitioner’s experience is unique. The sensations, shifts, and insights I describe here are what unfolded for me. My hope is that sharing this reflection supports others in their own breathwork journey, offering a window into the depth and quiet transformation that arise when we fully engage with the intelligence of our own breath.
#ConsciousBreath,#SacredStillness