There’s a moment that happens sometimes near the end of Savasana (Corpse pose).
The room is quiet. Everyone’s lying still. And there’s this quality to the silence that’s different from the silence at the beginning of class. Softer somehow. More spacious.
I can’t see anyone’s face, but I can sense it – that brief letting go of trying to understand everything, control everything, figure everything out. Just for a moment, people stop holding quite so tightly.
And then someone coughs, or a car passes outside and we all come back. The thinking starts up again. The planning. The mental list-making. The constant hum of the mind trying to manage life.
But that moment? That’s the crown chakra. That fleeting sense of connection to something larger than your endless thoughts. The recognition that you are not just the voice in your head.
For most of us, it’s the briefest glimpse. But it changes something.
What Sahasrara Actually Means
Sahasrara translates as “thousand-petaled” – like a lotus in full bloom. It sits at the crown of your head and governs your connection to something beyond your individual self. Not necessarily divine or mystical. Just… larger.
It’s associated with pure consciousness. The awareness underneath all your thoughts, feelings, sensations. The part of you that notices you’re thinking rather than being entirely consumed by the thoughts.
Here’s what I’ve observed with women in midlife: we’ve become very good at thinking. At analysing, planning, problem-solving, managing, anticipating. Our minds are extraordinarily capable machines that have kept us functional through decades of complexity.
But we’ve also become identified with those minds. We think we are our thoughts. That the constant mental chatter is who we fundamentally are. That if we stopped thinking so hard, we’d somehow cease to exist.
The crown chakra invites something radically different: the possibility that you’re the awareness noticing the thoughts, not the thoughts themselves.
And that changes everything.
When You’re Trapped in Your Head
An underactive crown chakra shows up as a deep sense of isolation. A feeling that you’re completely alone in your experience. Disconnected. Meaningless. Going through the motions without any sense of purpose or connection to something beyond your daily tasks.
You might notice rigid thinking. A need for everything to make logical sense. Dismissing anything that can’t be explained, measured, proven. Cynicism about spirituality, meaning, purpose – not just scepticism, but a defensive closing-off from even considering these questions.
There’s often a flatness. Life becomes about getting through the day. Ticking boxes. Managing responsibilities. You’ve forgotten – or never knew – that there might be more available.
When the crown chakra is overactive, you might escape into spiritual bypassing. Using meditation or philosophy to avoid dealing with real life. Becoming so focused on transcendence that you neglect your body, your relationships, your actual circumstances. Living in your head, but now it’s full of spiritual concepts instead of mundane worries.
Neither is the point. Both are just ways of avoiding the simple, profound practice of being present to what is.
What Balance Actually Feels Like
When Sahasrara is balanced, you can hold your life lightly.
Not carelessly. Not without engagement or responsibility. Just… lightly. You do what needs doing, but you’re not crushed by it. There’s space around everything. Perspective.
You recognise that your thoughts are thoughts, not absolute truth. Your worries are real but not necessarily accurate predictions. Your stories about yourself are just stories – they can change.
There’s a quiet sense of connection. Not to anything specific necessarily. Just a feeling that you’re part of something larger than your individual concerns. That your life has meaning even when you can’t articulate exactly what that meaning is.
You become more comfortable with mystery. With not knowing. With questions that don’t have tidy answers. The need to understand everything, control everything, figure everything out… it softens.
And paradoxically, when you stop trying so hard to transcend your ordinary life, you start noticing moments of grace within it. The light through the kitchen window. Your daughter’s laugh. The way your body knows how to breathe without you thinking about it. Small things become luminous.
I’ve seen this shift in students who’ve practiced for years. They don’t talk about enlightenment or transcendence. They just seem… easier. Less burdened. More present. Like they’ve set something heavy down and forgotten to pick it back up.
The mind is still active. But it’s not running the whole show anymore.
Working With Crown Energy in Practice
Savasana (Corpse pose) is the most direct practice. Lying completely still. Doing nothing. Allowing yourself to simply be rather than constantly becoming.
This is harder than it sounds. Your mind will protest. It will offer you lists, worries, plans, anything to avoid the vulnerability of just resting. Stay anyway. Notice the thoughts without following them. Come back to the sensation of your body on the ground. Again and again.
Sirsasana (Headstand) and Sarvangasana (Shoulderstand) – if they’re accessible to you – literally invert your relationship to the world. Blood flows to your crown. Your perspective shifts. But these need to be practiced safely, with proper support. The pose itself isn’t the point. The shift in perspective is.
Meditation, obviously. But not as a way to achieve some special state or stop thinking entirely. Just sitting. Watching your thoughts like clouds passing. Recognising that you’re the sky, not the weather.
Even just a few minutes a day. Sitting quietly. Eyes closed. Following your breath. Not trying to transcend anything. Just being present to the fact that you exist, right now, breathing.
And this practice: during your day, pause. Notice that you’re aware. That’s it. You don’t need to do anything with this awareness. Just notice it. The part of you that’s observing your experience is always there.
You just forget to notice it.
Off the Mat
Spend time in silence. Actual silence, not silence with a podcast in your ears or music in the background. Just… quiet.
Walk without your phone. Sit without a book. Let your mind wander without immediately capturing every thought in a note or a task. Give yourself permission to just be without productivity.
Look at the sky more. Day or night, doesn’t matter. There’s something about the vastness that helps. It reminds you that you’re small – not insignificant, but part of something immense. It’s oddly comforting.
If you’re drawn to it, read philosophy or poetry. Not self-help. Not practical advice. Things that make you think differently. That crack open your assumptions. That remind you that human beings have been grappling with these questions for thousands of years.
Wear white or violet if it appeals – the colours of the crown chakra. Or clear quartz if you’re drawn to crystals. But honestly, this chakra cares less about externals than any of the others.
And practice this: when you catch yourself catastrophising or spiralling or lost in worry, pause. Ask yourself, “Who is noticing these thoughts?” There’s a part of you that’s aware of your thinking. That part is calm. It’s always calm. It’s just watching.
You can rest there, even for a moment. Even while the thoughts continue.
What This Really Means
The crown chakra isn’t asking you to transcend your humanity or escape your life or achieve some elevated spiritual state.
It’s asking you to remember that you’re more than your thoughts. More than your worries. More than the endless mental management of your existence.
For those of us who’ve lived primarily in our heads – planning, analysing, controlling – this is disorienting work. It means recognising that all that thinking, while useful, isn’t actually who you are. That underneath the constant mental chatter is something quieter, steadier, more vast.
Here’s what I’ve learned: you don’t need to have all the answers. You don’t need to understand everything. You don’t need to figure out the meaning of life or achieve enlightenment or become someone different than you are.
You just need to be here. Present. Aware. Connected to the simple fact of your own existence in this moment.
That’s enough. It’s always been enough.
Sahasrara doesn’t require you to become spiritual or mystical or detached from the world. It invites you to recognise that you’re already connected to something larger than yourself. You always have been. You just forgot to notice.
The thousand-petaled lotus isn’t something you attain. It’s something you allow. You stop trying so hard. You rest in the awareness that’s always been there, underneath everything.
And you discover – not as a concept, but as a lived experience – that you are held. You always were.
If you’d like to work with the chakras more deeply, The Chakra System is a dedicated course exploring each energy centre in turn – a lovely way to bring this understanding into your own practice.