The Root Chakra and College

June 14: I’ve been thinking about my first two years of college prompted by a study of the chakra system, and in particular the first chakra, the root chakra.

The chakra system originated in India between 1500 and 500 BC.  It was traditionally an Eastern philosophy now associated more with New Age thinking.  Chakras are spinning wheels of energy that run along your spine and while there are many, the focus is on seven: root or base, spleen, solar plexus, heart, throat, brow or third eye, and crown.  The belief is that your body and mind, and the emotional well-being of your person, are affected by the health of your chakras.

The root chakra is located at the base of your spine.  It is the body’s connection to the Earth, just like roots of a tree.  Its function is survival and the right to be here and the foundation for all the chakras above it.

We are taught to control the body by way of the mind, which is considered far superior.  But the body has an intelligence whose mysteries the mind has yet to fathom.  We read in books how to eat, how to make love, how much sleep to get, and impose these practices on the body rather than listening from within.  ~ Anodea Judith, author of Eastern Body Western Mind

You may find this farfetched, but haven’t you ever noticed that your body has a way of telling you something important when the mind is not paying attention?  You’re always on the go, never stopping even though you know you’re wearing yourself out physically and mentally.  You’re eating well and in good shape.  Suddenly you come down with the flu.  Your body says, “Hey! I’m right here!  Your mind won’t tell you to take a break so I will!”  The problem is we don’t always recognize what our body is telling us because we’re not attuned to listen.  This is what brought to mind my first two years of college.

My family, not just my parents, had broken up just a few years before and I had lost someone who was dear to me.  Overnight my very sheltered introverted life changed.  Then without any fanfare I moved away to college.  I was miserable.  I was confused as to why I had difficulty developing meaningful female friendships.  I jumped around from guy to guy desperately trying to find the one that would fill a hole in me.  I acted in ways contrary to who I am.  I drank too much, etc, etc.  I was shamed by my dorm mates.

I felt like I had been chewed up and spit out.  This is what I was supposed to do next in my life, but was I supposed to accomplish this milestone feeling like I was all alone and that there was no one there to catch me if I fell?  I was navigating life without a safety net (survival), constantly questioning my place in the world (my right to be here), struggling with my inability to fit in, and doubting that I could make it on my own because obviously in my mind I was exactly that — on my own.

My story is not unique.  Most of us have experienced the pain of growing up, the difficulties transitioning from teenager to young adult, in one way or another.  But what is perhaps unique about this story, what called it to mind when I started reading about the root chakra, is the way in which my body responded to these mental challenges.  For those two years I nursed a chronic Pilonidal cyst.  Don’t look it up because it’ll just embarrass me.  Just know that it’s a cyst on your tailbone, your tailbone residing at the base of the spine in the location of the root chakra.  A physical manifestation of my struggle to survive.  Of course at the time this meant nothing to me, it was just one more thing to add to my miserable existence.  But it’s interesting to think about the significance of this now given all the other locations of my body in which this cyst could have occured.

I transferred to another college with a firm belief that the power to make my situation better resided within me, but first I had to remove myself from my current environment.  I moved to another state, started to feel better about myself, behaved in a way more in keeping with my values, and made friends more easily.  The cyst eventually went away never to return.  In hindsight my body was telling me something wasn’t right, that I needed to act to bring myself to wholeness and restore a sense of security.  And while I did not recognize the sign, I did manage to do just that, act.

This morning as I was thinking about this time in my life I was overwhelmed with peace and gratitude.  I never returned to the desperate state I was in those first two years of college.  I not only survived, I evolved into a woman I am proud of and live a life that is full of love.  I am so grateful.  If I were to write a letter to my college self I would assure her — you’re going to be ok.  You are loved.  This is the path you are supposed to follow.  Just do the best you can.

So I have to ask, what is your body trying to tell you today?

Photo courtesy of my brother