When Energy Awakens: Understanding Kundalini, Its Gifts, and Its Challenges

"Ever since my psychedelic journey, it feels like something has awakened in me. I feel energy moving through my body, my emotions are all over the place... and honestly, I'm starting to wonder if I'm going crazy."

I've heard versions of this statement many times over the years, and not only after psychedelic journeys. People describe similar experiences after years of meditation or spiritual practice, during periods of personal change, or in the aftermath of grief, illness, or of events that shift how they experience themselves and the world. The descriptions have much in common. People talk about waves of energy moving through the body, spontaneous shaking, vivid dreams, heightened intuition, or emotions that feel much closer to the surface. Alongside all of this is usually a very understandable question: What is happening to me?

For many, that question eventually leads to the word Kundalini. Happening upon this term can be reassuring because it offers a framework for an experience that has felt confusing. You'll find no shortage of opinions about Kundalini awakenings. Some are rooted in ancient spiritual traditions, others in psychology. I don't think you have to decide which explanation explains your experience. Often a much simpler question is more relevant: What is this experience asking of me? That question can mark the beginning of a deeper journey inward.

My own interest in Kundalini isn't purely professional. It is also deeply personal.

During one of my own psychedelic journeys, I experienced powerful surges of energy unlike anything I’ve felt before. There were vivid images of rainbow light, loud whooshing sounds that seemed to move through me, and a feeling that something new was trying to come into being. At the time, I had no idea what to make of it. It was beautiful, mysterious, and more than a little disorienting.

Like many people, I went looking for language that might help me understand what had happened. That search eventually led me to the concept of Kundalini. Whether or not my experience would ultimately be understood as a Kundalini awakening isn't something I feel the need to answer with certainty. What mattered more was discovering a framework that allowed me to approach the experience with curiosity—maybe a measure of excitement—rather than fear.

That experience changed the way I listen when clients describe similar moments in their own lives. I still bring the perspective of a psychologist, but I also understand what it feels like to search for words to hold an experience that is both deeply meaningful and difficult to explain.

What Is Kundalini?

Kundalini has its roots in the ancient yogic traditions of India, where it is described as a dormant spiritual energy that rests at the base of the spine. Traditional teachings hold that this energy has the potential to awaken and move upward through the body's energy system, or chakras. As Kundalini rises, it expands awareness, deepens spiritual understanding, and brings a person into closer contact with their true nature.

The traditional symbol for Kundalini is a coiled serpent. That image can sound strange or even unsettling when viewed through a Western lens, but it was not intended to suggest that there is a literal snake inside the body. Instead, the serpent represents potential—a living force that has always been present, even if it has not yet been consciously experienced. In many spiritual traditions, it symbolizes wisdom, transformation, and renewal.

People understand Kundalini in different ways. For some, it is a literal spiritual energy that can be felt moving through the body. For others, it is a way of describing a profound shift in consciousness or a period of deep psychological and spiritual transformation.

These perspectives do not necessarily have to compete with one another. An experience may feel deeply spiritual while also affecting our emotions, our relationships, our sense of identity, and the way we experience our bodies.

One of the things I appreciate about the traditional teachings is that they place surprisingly little emphasis on chasing extraordinary experiences. The goal isn't simply to have visions, feel energy moving through the body, or reach unusual states of consciousness. Those experiences may occur, and they may be deeply meaningful, but they are not considered the measure of spiritual growth. What matters far more is how the experience changes the way someone lives. Does it lead to greater compassion? More honesty? A deeper capacity to love? Does it help us become more present in our relationships and more willing to face the parts of ourselves we have spent years avoiding?

For that reason, Kundalini has traditionally been approached with patience and respect.

The emphasis was not simply on awakening the energy, but on preparing the person for this awakening. Spiritual practice, ethical reflection, grounding in daily life, and guidance from an experienced teacher are considered part of the path. The goal was never just to open—it was to become capable of living wisely with whatever that opening revealed.

Today, many of us live in a culture that encourages peak experiences but offers far less guidance about what comes afterward. We know how to seek transformation. We are often less certain how to integrate it into everyday life.

How Is Kundalini Experienced?

One of the challenges in writing about Kundalini is that there is no single experience that defines it. Two people may both describe what they believe to be a Kundalini awakening, yet their experiences can look remarkably different.

Many people first notice changes within the body. They describe waves of energy, tingling or vibrating sensations, spontaneous shaking, changes in breathing, warmth or pressure along the spine, or an increased sensitivity to sound, light, or other sensory experiences. Others are struck less by physical sensations than by emotional or spiritual changes. Feelings that had remained buried may begin to emerge. Dreams may become more vivid. Time in nature may feel different. Intuition may seem stronger. Long-held beliefs can soften as new questions arise.

None of these experiences, by themselves, necessarily indicate Kundalini. Medical conditions, psychological processes, and other spiritual experiences can look remarkably similar. Rather than offering certainty, Kundalini provides one possible lens through which people make sense of experiences that once felt confusing or isolating.

Over the years, one observation has stayed with me. People rarely seek support because they have begun feeling more connected to themselves or to something sacred. They seek support because those experiences often arrive alongside uncertainty. They wonder whether they are imagining things, whether they are losing touch with reality, or whether something has gone terribly wrong. More often than not, what they need first is not an explanation. They need reassurance that they are not alone.

When Awakening Changes More Than We Expect

One of the things that makes Kundalini so difficult to understand is that it rarely remains only an experience of energy. People often begin by describing sensations in their bodies—waves of energy, spontaneous movements, vivid dreams, or moments of profound connection. Over time, however, the conversation often shifts.

One thing I've noticed over the years is that experiences people initially describe as "energy" rarely remain only about energy. As time passes, conversations become less about sensations moving through the body and more about relationships, identity, purpose, grief, forgiveness, or long-standing emotional wounds. It is as though the experience gradually expands beyond what is happening physically and begins touching every part of a person's life.

I've also noticed that this period of awakening sometimes coincides with deep emotional healing. People may find themselves grieving losses they thought they had already accepted or becoming aware of experiences they had pushed aside years before. I don't know that Kundalini causes these changes. I suspect they were already there. What may change is our capacity to become aware of them.

From a psychological perspective, that isn't entirely surprising. We all develop ways of protecting ourselves from experiences that feel overwhelming. We don't consciously carry every painful experience with us every day. Sometimes we set parts of our story aside because that is what allows us to keep moving forward. Then something shifts, and experiences that had remained in the background begin asking for our attention.

For some people, this can be profoundly reassuring. Experiences that once felt random begin to make sense within the larger context of their lives. For others, it can feel disorienting. What may have started as a spiritual experience morphs into confronting old grief, difficult relationships, or questions about how they want to live. 

Psychedelic experiences deserve special mention because many people first encounter conversations about Kundalini after a medicine journey. Traditional spiritual practices often unfold gradually over many years, allowing time for each shift in awareness to become part of daily life. Psychedelic experiences can compress that timeline dramatically, opening doors in a matter of hours that might otherwise have taken much longer to reach. That can be profoundly healing, but it can also leave people trying to understand experiences they never expected to have.

This is one reason preparation and integration of psychedelic journeys are so important. The medicine experience is only one part of the journey. Lasting change is shaped by what happens afterward—how we make meaning of the experience, how we care for ourselves, and how we gradually allow new insights to influence the way we live.

Occasionally these experiences become so intense that they have been described as a spiritual emergency, a term introduced by psychiatrists Stanislav and Christina Grof.

They observed that profound spiritual experiences can sometimes resemble psychological crises while also holding the potential for growth. At the same time, genuine mental health conditions deserve careful assessment and treatment. The two are not mutually exclusive. Discernment matters, and compassionate psychological care and thoughtful spiritual guidance can often complement one another.

Perhaps the most important thing I can offer is reassurance. If your experience feels confusing, it does not necessarily mean something has gone wrong. It means you deserve support from people who can hold both the psychological and the spiritual dimensions of what you are experiencing without dismissing either.

A Few Reflections

If parts of this article feel familiar, there is no need to rush to decide whether what you are experiencing is Kundalini. There is also no need to force an explanation before one naturally emerges.

Instead, become curious about your own experience.

You might take one of these questions with you on a walk, into meditation, or simply hold it gently in your awareness over the coming week.

• What feels as though it is awakening in me?

• What parts of myself have been asking for my attention?

• Where do I notice both fear and curiosity existing together?

• What helps me feel grounded when life feels uncertain?

• What kind of support would help me trust this process a little more?

You don't have to answer every question. Sometimes the practice is simply noticing which one stays with you.

About the Author

Heidi J. Dalzell, PsyD, is a licensed psychologist, EMDR consultant, and psychedelic-assisted therapist with more than 30 years of clinical experience. Her work sits at the intersection of psychology and spirituality, helping people navigate trauma, life transitions, grief, and experiences that invite a deeper relationship with themselves. Drawing from both professional practice and her own path of spiritual exploration, she is particularly interested in the ways psychological healing and spiritual awakening can inform one another with humility, discernment, and compassion.

Heidi lives and works in Sedona, Arizona, where she offers psychotherapy, EMDR intensives, psychedelic-assisted therapy, consultation, and retreats. Learn more at www.talktogrow.com.