I've increasingly been able to keep an almost constant awareness of not only the energy streaming into my crown but also its connection to the base of my spine. If I consciously focus on the connection, I can feel the energy spread through my legs. It feels like sitting at the base of a gentle, warm waterfall, or at the opening of an underground spring. The energy teleports, or flows through an unseen viaduct, first funneling into the top of my head and then flowering out from my pelvis on down.
In concentrated practice periods, the focus has been to feel and connect the intermediate channels, whether they travel through my spine or in front of it. I can feel the electricity on both ends (top and bottom); then it's just a matter of letting them meet somewhere in the middle.
The technique of "jumping into the bloodstream" is a specific example of a general skill, which is to attune to a particular frequency. In other words, whether or not the pulse or signal I feel is that of my physical heart, I can still jump into it, ride the wave, grab the rope tow, dive into the river, etc. This allows for a much more rapid reconnection.
What about the resistance? I'm reminded of my quip about resistance being futile. That seems true—as long as I still attend to it. As I focus on reattaching my backbone, so to speak—that is, closing and intensifying the electric circuit in my spine—all manner of resistance shows up in the form of muscle-contracting, breath-holding, whimpering, etc. I've found that it's not helpful to focus directly on these side effects. Instead, whether the perspective is that of the party who is interested in making the connection happen or that of the party who is feeling the connection happen without asking for it, the focus should still be on the connection. I take turns stepping into these roles (though I still spend most of the time adopting the perspective of the one who wants to make the connection). There is a subtle shift: the eyes look up slightly when I become the frightened recipient of the connection. The eyes look down slightly when I'm the one concentrating on making it happen. But the attunement to the frequency must stay there for it to work, so there is a bit of multi-tasking, or at least simultaneous levels of conscious awareness, going on.
How do I know the resistance isn't just going back into hiding or bringing in reinforcements? Well, I can't always know that, and I'm sure there's always a mix. But here's the really telling indicator: there is often a sense of great relief and relaxation, particularly when the exhale is voiced as opposed to unvoiced. I never try to make that happen, but it happens of its own accord. The eyes look up slightly, directly, as it were, into the light. Calm, still presence makes it possible. As the little me, I can quickly see that I am the one creating all the fuss and that there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm safe and can relax, even in the midst of such intense aliveness. Before I know it, a deep, voiced sigh suggests that another slice of salami has been shaved off.