Some believe that there is an unconscious and instinctive, 
indeed libidinal, force that can be felt as a physical phenomenon. 
Others deny its existence. Those who say it exists win the
 argument for the simple reason that, if they feel it, then it is there
 as a reality for themselves. If it is a reality in the context of 
their own perception, then, unless they are outright liars, even if it 
cannot be measured scientifically, it exists - end of story.
A
 mental state does not require general social approval to exist. It 
merely has to be experienced as real. A delusion is a real mental state 
but it is a delusion in the context of social and not individual reality
 and so not a delusion about its own state of delusion-ness. We
 may go on to apply all sorts of metaphor to such a felt libidinal force. We may develop 
vitalist theories or call it a serpent power or a goddess or use lots of
 sanskrit gobbledygook. We may try to make it more than it is by giving 
it value and romance - but at the end of the day, it is simply what it 
is: a sense of experienced reality that is real to the person 
experiencing it and different from mundane 'normal' existence in the world.
This force may, of course, not be 
experienced identically in every person who experiences it (as we write there is a furore on the internet over whether a dress is blue and black or white and gold which is really a furore over human perception in the face of the variable outputs of our electronic world) but there are
 some common denominators in the descriptions of such forces (once we get past the 
spiritual guff) that suggest that people who have this sense, whether
 intrinsic to their nature or intermittently experienced, are 
all experiencing the same phenomenon.
There is no 
issue with saying that the experience might be bio-chemical nor 
that the experience has such meaning to a person that this meaning might
 force a person to engage in some sort of struggle with others, indeed 
with society, to be permitted to engage with his or her own experience 
as good and worthwhile. It might be this that forces us to have to face the 'reality' of Islamist gnosis. Experience of, and existence with,
 this force is a defining issue in human freedom because the spiritual 
guff may well be nothing more than a pragmatic attempt to 'justify' 
(when no justification should be necessary) something that is difficult 
to communicate and is not a universal phenomenon in a social context. The issue is not the normalisation of people but the harm done to others by abnormalised experience - which would brings us back to statue-smashing Islamists. 
For historical and cultural reasons related to the 
pragmatic exercise of power and the discomfort and anxiety of the those 
who cannot comprehend this force, or perhaps to relieve the anxiety of 
those who experience this force but are not given a language for it that
 is positive, the force’s own existence and value may be denied but only
 as once it might have been denied that the earth could be round. It may be that the person who feels this force is faced with such 
resentment and incomprehension from those who do not feel it that they 
are obliged to create a mythology and religious or cultic context rather
 than be able simply to say what should be said - 'this is what I am and you just have to live with it'.
Perhaps
 organized religion was and is the revenge of those who feel this force
 on the uncomprehending only, in one of many paradoxes that will we see
 in this Note, to see this revenge appropriated by pragmatists who 
thereby exerted their revenge on the revengers in turn! The
 lack of a language of assertion in the modern world for those who feel 
this energy means that the force-full are always placed on the defensive. This defensiveness extends to their very natures, in the round,
 as people different to the pragmatic mainstream. They constantly have to 
justify their difference!
A barrier is equally set up for 
'intermittent' experiencers who learn to experience their difference in 
shame or silence instead of discussing their moments of difference 
openly or being permitted to create some personal meaning out of it, 
while those who live in a permanent state of relationship with this 
force are obliged to become not merely silent but secretive - or cloak 
themselves in that cultic nonsense we have already noted.
Perhaps much of the 
essentialist nonsense surrounding spirit that seems to have led to the 
absurd institutions of organised religion come down to little more than 
this - that non-sense has been a necessary defensive weapon for those 
who feel this libidinous force in an uncomprehending society. They
 are obliged to re-cast that which is not permitted in order to be open 
and then turn it into something false but socially acceptable. Of two 
main strategies for coping, our culture may have chosen the wrong one in
 the past because of resource constraints and the need to maintain 
social order but our social order may now no longer require 
communitarian falsehoods.
There is the opportunity to replace a strategy
 of silences and displacements with a new strategy of assertiveness and for
the stripping away of all those accretions that force those who have a 
sense of their internal biochemical power to give absurd meanings to a 
surprisingly simple phenomenon. Social authoritarians 
remain rather frightened of this force because it is creative and 
innovative but it is also centred on a gnostic relationship to itself as
 not only desire is but as all other forms of high emotion and constructed 
meaning are so centred. High emotion and intense meaning are frightening to many 
people. The co-existence of non-reason with reason causes anxiety.
For
 social authoritarians, an inner force that cannot be reasoned into 
‘normality’ must be repressed and contained. In the worst case, it 
becomes redrafted as 'sin' or even into particular 'sins' such as Lust 
which may then be rationally contained in a numbering system (the '7 
Deadly Sins', for example). Nor is this force to be assumed to be simply 
sexual (the sexual may have a higher or lower place in its expression in
 particular individuals). The force is a general force that is not 
easily explained in conventional language. It may also have very 
different expressions in different people - the 'desire' that exists within it is also a form of yearning or love that need not at all be focused on, 
say, orgasm at all.
The force may equally well be focused simply 
on a state of being, one that has had accreted to it terms like 
'spiritual' but whose terms are far too limited by such language, 
language designed merely (as I suggested above) to contain, channel and 
socialise something infinitely more complex that, in itself, needs no 
myth of universal consciousness or divinity. The ancient 
Indians would have seen this force as sleeping, dormant, a potential in 
the human condition. I am not so sure. Their analysis is based on a 
determination to see human beings as operating within some universal 
type or essence of human nature.
It is far more likely 
that it is present or not present to different degrees of intensity, 
possibly even circumstantial in its form to environmental conditions, in
 different persons, often at different times of their lives. This
 lack of essence to the force is why it presents such a difficulty to 
men and women who demand fixed essences instead of accepting existence 
as Heraclitean flux. It is why it is not merely contentious but a 
subject of anxiety, horror, social control and re-invention.
Whatever
 this thing is, it presents two immediate problems – how do I describe 
it to myself in order to manage it and how do I explain it to the world?
 Both exercises require that it be expressed linguistically or in terms 
of some ritual which, in itself, starts to remove a person from the 
actual experience. The degree to which this ‘force’ is 
shared is the degree to which it becomes exponentially attenuated so 
that the intense connection between individual persons (‘love’ included)
 becomes revised into a weak spirituality that ultimately leads to the 
psychic onanism of universalism and the covering of the experience with 
cultural layers and language that bend the experience into tribal or, again, 
cultic paths.
To some extent, it might be useful to create
 a theory of the force – in the Indian tradition, there are 
introspective models that lead to concepts of energy channels (nadis), 
subtle energy (prana) and essential elements (bindu) within a subtle 
body. Something similar takes place in the Chinese Taoist and Western 
alchemical traditions. But it is important to see these 
descriptions as allegorical and not as necessary truths. They exist to 
manage, control and communicate but not to ‘live’. The practitioner who 
believes in these forms has taken a step away from the truth.
Hindu, Chinese and Western language of 
the force should really be seen not as truths in themselves but as 
different technologies of 'spiritual' exploitation to which many other 
technologies of the past and the future might be added – including, 
possibly, a monist materialist scientific one as the science of mind and
 body progresses. The descriptions of the schools all taken 
together are mistakenly read as referring to some ‘perennial philosophy’
 where the underlying reality is assumed to be of some universal quality
 where consciousness is to be set against matter. This is absurd because
 it mistakes the effect for the cause.
Instead, we have to
 think of the sensation of 'spirit' as an intrinsic quality of some 
forms of matter, arising naturally under certain conditions of evolution, where ‘spiritual technologies’ merely represent pre-scientific 
methods of dealing (through experience) with something that scence 
should theoretically (though possibly never actually) resolve through 
its methods of investigating the material plane, the only plane that 
‘matters’ for descriptive purposes. This presents us with 
another paradox because the language that best describes what is going 
on is a phenomenological language, a description of experience in which 
cultural and personal metaphor, even poetry or visual symbolism in the 
form of art, best describes what is to be scientifically explained.
A scientific explanation may thus lie not in the description of things in 
mathematical terms but in the refinement of shared artistic 
representations that accumulate to become a paradoxically 'scientific' 
description of the phenomenon, one that has to be ‘felt’ as true because
 the artistic description in its right context (looked at with 
apollonian detachment) becomes the intellectual ‘last man standing’ - 
based on ‘praxis’, the doing of things that elicit or make use of the 
force. There is an existent Hindu technology (not the only
 technology) of systematically raising, containing, directing and using 
the force that is sensed as a physical sensation of movement from base 
through spine and upwards. This is Kundalini yoga.
The 
point today, though, is that such techniques should be looked at afresh 
primarily as technologies and not permit obfuscation with strange 
Sanskrit words and unscientific explanations that require the experience
 to represent more reality than it can take. We have covered this at length in our Tantra series but both these 
technologies and drugs should be able to recreate high-level experiences
 of a delusory nature that have effects on persons that are highly 
fulfilling and life-changing without demanding belief in God, gods or 
universal consciousness.
A further paradox must be that the delusion of universality becomes an apparent reality,
 not the ostensible reality of the vision (the absurdities of universal 
consciousness or reincarnation), but the felt reality of dramatic 
changes in personality, mind and the relationship between mind and body 
and then between mind, body and social reality. Some 
Indian sages will be usefully clear that the energy of which we speak is
 just the natural energy of the self but they then go on to make the 
unproven and unprovable assertion that this self is somehow dissipated 
as universal and is to be found in every being at the same time. This 
may help us to love rocks, spiders and frogs but it is a distraction.
Instead
 of seeing our experience of the universal as an attribute of an 
integral self to be mastered and understood, the Hindu sage somewhat 
foolishly takes the attribute for the whole and then dissipates the self
 into all sorts of creative invention. The ultimate absurdity becomes 
planet-worship, where rock displaces mind. This is not 
merely the general-universal but universals that then become 
re-personalised as God or turned into a nothingness (Nirvana) that is 
supposed to be higher than Man and still have meaning as a No-Thing in 
which he is to be merged in the future rather than contended with as 'Le
 Neant' in the present.
Humanity is unlikely to be free of
 its own delusions until it can face the awful fact (to many of its 
number) that its experiences are entirely contingent on the material 
structures of the brain in the body. This is not cause for
 gloom but for joy because it states that the person, though destined 
(at this point in history) for death, is his own invention and is not 
merely the fluff on the back-side of eternity.
Above all, 
this is an opportunity to recapture the various mythologies about 
the inner force and make them work as technologies rather than as 
eternal belief systems. By yet another paradox, this may 
'save' the religious impulse by permitting many systems to co-exist as 
technologies without going through knots trying to find some perennial 
common denominator at the philosophical level.
To believe 
for the purpose of transformation in, say, Freyja or Shakti, is a wholly
 legitimate method of personal transformation, so long as the 
practitioner fully understands that, existentially, he is engaged in a 
technology in which the goddess both exists (as means) and does not 
exist (as ultimate reality) at the same time. The end of 
the technology is very similar to that of the ancient sages – a ‘gnosis’
 or self-realisation that has been falsely connected to the idea of God 
or to an external wisdom. To think that some 'divine' external force 
transforms us is to diminish the power of one's own intrinsic resources.
Wisdom
 is connected to a self-knowledge that need have no connection with the 
universal except that it is an illusory experience shared biologically 
with some others of one’s own species, without any necessary specific 
connection to what it appears to be. The genius of 
self-knowledge lies not in knowing the other (impossible) or knowing the
 universal (illusion) but in knowing that the knowing of the other or of
 the universal is an illusion but one that is embraced as transforming.
Again
 we are into a paradox because the transformation into a state of 
understanding that all universalisms and all other-knowing is illusory –
 which may cause a passage through the ‘dark night of the soul’ – is 
ultimately so liberating that this knowledge of our lack of knowledge 
permits a much healthier relationship with others and with society. It
 is this state that the sages will refer to as an ‘awakening of inner 
knowledge’ or ‘pure joy, pure knowledge and pure love’ but is here taken
 to the next stage existentially, one where one observes objectively the
 illusion of this knowledge so that it can become the 'highest' form of 
knowledge – the knowledge that the illusion lies not in the Self but in 
the projection of Self into the universal.
From this 
perspective, a key figure in our understanding (though the 
existentialist perspective in this paper is different) is Jung 
who linked the process of Kundalini yoga with individuation. Another 
such figure is Wilhelm Reich who identified the ‘drives’ involved with more perspicacity than he has been given credit for – a failure created by his many other errors of judgement. Jung put it succinctly (in relation to the Eastern exploration of these issues): “… the concept of Kundalini has for us, only one use, that is, to describe our own experiences with the unconscious”. We only differ from Jung in our view of that unconscious as being 
possibly far more materially based than perhaps he considered likely.
The issue raised here is thus only whether individuation must be illusion-full (essentialist) or illusion-less (existentialist). We
 are discomfited in the West by the value placed on being ‘without 
illusions’ in spiritual matters but a position that is filled with 
illusion (whether generated by meditation or Ayahuasca) is not, in value
 terms, any better or worse than one that is without illusions 
(existential) or perhaps is one of having the illusion that one is 
without illusions.
There is a point where we cannot know 
anything but merely are forced to make choices (even if less than 
conscious choices) of the level of illusion we find acceptable. It is
 merely the contention of this Posting that full individuation probably 
requires that we go beyond the comfort zone of the illusion of having 
gone beyond material illusion into high essentialism (the construction 
of pragmatic but false meaning) and re-engage with our materialism as 
'no-meaning' other than the meaning we create out of our material being 
(existentialism).
There is, however, no obligation on us 
to do so and no moral superiority in moving beyond the ‘spiritual’ back 
into the material. It is simply a choice for full individuation – an 
individuation that might well be in danger of detaching oneself entirely 
from the social (as pre-eminent value system) and into a state that might almost be considered 
intellectually post-human. This would simply be, then, a matter of choice ... the embracing of Existence, including the felt forces of Existence, without illusions because Life is in itself sufficient to justify the ways of Man to Man. 
 
