The Sleeping Serpent: A woman's struggle to break an obsessive bond with her yoga master

by Luna Saint Claire

  Luna had never had Reiki, but was familiar with the therapy, which passes energy from the practitioner’s hands to the recipient, bringing about healing on the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual levels. In fact, it was what Kristi had done on Luna’s toe all those years ago, before she was trained professionally.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Luna that Nico, an energy healer, was her reason for seeking Kristi’s help.

  Luna lay down on the table and immediately felt the heat from Kristi’s hands as she placed them on either side of her head. This was the first time she had told anyone the truth about Nico. Maybe, she thought, there was even more to how she felt, and she hadn’t been completely honest with herself.

  Kristi was breathing softly and Luna could tell she had moved into a different state of consciousness. She’d said the Reiki—spirit energy—is intelligent, and knows where to heal, so Luna prayed she would find the source of her attachment to Nico.

  Suddenly, a crushing sadness overcame her. Assuring Luna that the feeling was normal, Kristi moved alongside her, placing her hands on her solar plexus. Luna was about to say that was the spot where she felt a constant flutter inside, but Kristi shushed her and said not to worry. Then she remained in motionless trance for over twenty minutes, with her hands on Luna’s solar plexus and her breathing soft and shallow.

  Sitting across from each other later in the treatment room, Kristi spoke softly yet confidently, “I wasn’t going to alarm you until I was certain.” Luna took a deep breath, but remained silent, waiting for Kristi to continue. “Have you heard the expression corded?”

  Luna shook her head and said, “No, but when you had your hands on my solar plexus, I was about to say that’s where I have this constant warm fluttering, I call them fire butterflies. They began soon after I started practicing yoga with Nico.”

  Kristi placed her hand on her own solar plexus. “Up here, right?”

  Luna nodded. “Exactly there.”

  Kristi looked her in the eyes, and not wanting to frighten her, said calmly, “Luna, I can see it.”

  Luna’s eyes widened, “What do you mean you can see it? See what?”

  Kristi replied matter-of-factly, “It looks exactly like a real cord.” She paused before adding, “It connects you to him.”

  Luna exclaimed, “I knew it. I could feel it!”

  Kristi evenly explained, “A psychic cord is natural between a mother and a child. It’s like an umbilical cord, providing life support until the child is energetically independent.” She went on, “But Luna, some people are like vampires, and the cord allows them to suck life-force. Don’t confuse this with a connection like love, which has a higher vibration of light, allowing sharing, but not depletion.”

  “I know I have a connection to Nico…he needs me. I’m so grateful to him…I love him.” Luna hesitated, then rushed to add, “Like a mother or a friend. How can he be a vampire?”

  Kristi reminded her, “From what you told me, you’re grateful for his healing. He makes you feel good. You said you’ve never felt better—like you’re thirty again. He compliments you, and you crave his approval. He needs you, and demands your attention, even when it’s inconvenient, to the point of upsetting Tyler. You’ve given him permission to cross over boundaries. When you try to draw a line by withholding your energy—your time and services—he gets angry and punishes you, because he’s being deprived. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Kristi implored, wanting to ensure Luna grasped the magnitude of the situation.

  Luna was shaken, and her voice trembled. “Yes, I completely understand the vampire analogy!”

  “Ah, but Luna…it’s more than an analogy! The cord is real, you just don’t see it in this plane. Nico is a vampire. It’s not blood he craves, it’s life-force. It’s no wonder he’s a yoga master with the ability to control prana.”

  Luna was enthralled, and exhaled sharply. “Kristi, what am I going to do?”

  “Women are victims of cording more often than men because they’re naturally nurturing. You see this as a way to be needed and to repay him for how he helped you. You’ve been too generous in this relationship, and he’s draining you.”

  Kristi took her hand and Luna braced herself, realizing she hadn’t finished, “Luna, this cord is very dark. I believe it’s more than just crossing boundaries. It feels to me like a psychic attack.”

  Luna’s eyes filled with tears, not understanding how this could be true. Kristi handed her a tissue and reassured her, “Now, I don’t believe he wishes you harm. But this cord was attached purposely, in shamanic tradition—and Nico is a shaman. It was put there to control you. It’s his feeding tube for what he needs from you. I would venture to say he’s corded other people, too. What you don’t supply, he gets from them. I can break this cord, but only if you work with me, and it will not be easy—he will want to reconnect. You’re a valuable source of supply for what he requires from you. You’ve been a willing provider until now, but when you sever the cord he will be denied. You have to truly want to sever the cord and heal the wound.”

  Luna panicked as tears came quickly to her eyes, and words spilled out uncontrollably, “I don’t know if I can! I love him. I need him—he means everything to me.”

  Kristi was compassionate, but firm. “Luna, it’s going to ruin you. I think you know it, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Luna nodded, dismayed. “I know, Kristi, I can’t keep the cord. He takes too much from me. It’s like I’m on call twenty-four hours. If I say no, he punishes me. Sometimes he frightens me!” Pausing to collect herself, she added, “It’s painful! Tyler knows all of this. I haven’t kept anything from him. It hurts him and he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with me, why I take this abuse. Lately, it’s also really begun to affect my job. I know I have to cut the cord, but it’s only when I think clearly that I’m willing to. When I don’t see him, when he’s not in my life, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  Nothing Luna said surprised Kristi. She continued, this time more insistently, “I can help you because my power, along with your willingness to sever the cord, is stronger than his power. But if you let him back, he will reconnect it.” Taking Luna’s hand and looking her squarely in the eyes, she asked, “Do you want to cut the cord, Luna?”

  Putting her head in her hands, then wiping the tears away, she gazed back up at Kristi. Taking a deep lungful of air, she exhaled sharply, then answered clearly, “Yes, I do.”

  Kristi directed Luna to close her eyes. “Visualize the cord. It’s a thick black tube, like at the gas station, entering your solar plexus, the third chakra. Now, Luna, picture cutting the cord and command Nico to let you go. Think about why you allowed this cord. What is your payoff in letting him cord you?”

  Luna considered all the reasons she had given earlier. “I feel as if I owe him my life, in a way.”

  Kristi admonished her gently, “That’s not exactly how you put it earlier. You said he makes you feel younger and that you need his approval.”

  Luna concurred, “You’re right. What’s the difference?”

  Kristi clarified, “You don’t need his approval. You have to feel beautiful and young without him. He’s made you dependent on him for something you have the power to give yourself. You have to find that without him, or you’ll allow him to reattach the cord every time you need a compliment. This cord is going in both directions—unless you no longer want it.” Kristi shook her head. “Luna, only you can decide. Your reason for the cord is a misplaced desire, feeding your own vanity. It’s doing you more harm than good. He feeds you what you think you need and want, so he gets what he needs from you.” Kristi explained what Luna needed to do next, “A raw stub is left behind, like a wound. You need to protect yourself by visualizing a color like red or blue as a protective salve over the wound. If you see or speak to Nico, he’ll sense the cord is missing, and reattach it immediately.”

  Leaving Kristi’s office, Luna felt so much lighter and clearer, like a fog she hadn’t
known was there had been lifted. She was startled by how vivid and bright everything was, and by how good she felt. Walking to her car, her phone rang and she fished into her bag to retrieve it.

  It was Nico.

  Luna hesitated. She held the phone in her hand, staring at Nico’s picture as the ringtone “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” played.

  Nervous and unsure what to do, she answered.

  “Bella…where are you?” he purred sweetly.

  “I’m running some errands,” Luna lied. She couldn’t very well say where she’d been. Her mind raced with questions. How did he know to call at exactly that moment? Did he sense the cord was no longer attached? Luna was freaked out. She could actually feel his magnetic pull.

  Tentatively, he enticed, “Can you come over for a little bit?”

  That’s what Nico always asked when he was lonely and wanted her company. Luna’s head was spinning. If Kristi cleared the cord, why do I still feel the pull? Why do I still want to see him? If I go, he’ll surely reattach the cord—won’t he? Kristi must have expected he would call and want to see me—it couldn’t be that simple! Luna knew she shouldn’t go over, but how could she tell him she was ending their relationship and never speaking to him again? She would miss him too much, he was a part of her. And Nico knew this as much as she did.

  “Sure, Nico. I’m just getting to my car now. I should be there in a few minutes.”

  He sighed, relieved. “Good, bella. I miss you. I’ll cook and we can watch a movie.”

  Luna’s visit with Kristi had left her feeling troubled and confused. Torn between her attachment to Nico and Kristi’s perception (or was it recognition) that he was a dark entity, Luna was shaken to the core. When she told Tyler about being corded and about Nico being a vampire sucking her life-force, Tyler hadn’t been the least bit surprised. To her astonishment, he’d further elucidated that the true meaning of vampirism is the taking of life-force—and stories of the undead sucking blood were a metaphor. Her heart pounding in her throat, the panic had been palpable in her voice when she snapped, “Why do you let me see him? What are you thinking? Aren’t you supposed to protect me?”

  Sounding like the philosopher he was, he’d replied solemnly, “I would never try to control you, Luna. That would make me no better than Nico. Besides, you would only get angry.”

  “I need help, Tyler. I’m addicted to him in some weird way. Like a drug. Will you help me?”

  “I wish I could help you, but only you can take your life back. Only you have control, Luna. It’s like telling an alcoholic to stop drinking.”

  They were in the den watching television when Luna’s cell phone rang. With each ring, her nerves frayed further. Holding the phone up so Tyler could see it was Nico, she declared, “I need to talk to him…explain things. I’ll take it in the other room.”

  Tyler shrugged, “Do what you want, Luna.”

  She could see the disappointment in his eyes, but more than that, she saw sadness and that pained her. Part of her wished he were more controlling and would forbid her to see Nico. She longed for Tyler to be passionate and sexually commanding, the way she imagined Nico to be. She felt guilty that she thrilled in Nico’s artificial lustful admiration of her, when Tyler truly loved her and genuinely praised her inner beauty and wisdom.

  In the living room, she sat in a down-stuffed Bergere. They hadn’t spoken in over a week. He didn’t need to tell her he’d been in Mexico with Alexa. Luna had figured that out by herself. His voice was a whisper, and he sounded half asleep. “Are you all right, Nico? You’re so quiet, I can hardly hear you.”

  He spoke up, “Luna, it’s because you’re deaf.”

  She chuckled, relieved he sounded more like himself, always teasing her about her hearing. “It’s because I’m old. Remember?”

  He relayed the usual litany of complaints. “I’m tired. She’s killing me. It’s always a fucking drama with her.” He paused to take a breath, “If I don’t stay on top of her and spend time with her, she won’t do anything for me—everything goes dead. She makes a scene about everything instead of doing things the way I say to do them.”

  Luna had to bite her tongue to not say I told you so. “Nico, you said things are happening and you’ve been so busy working and traveling. You’re exhausted, maybe you just need to rest.”

  “Luna, bella. You’re the only one I feel close to.”

  She sighed; any barrier she’d attempted to construct dissolved with his words.

  Suddenly exuberant, he asked, “Do you want to go see the Gipsy Kings with me?”

  Without hesitation she replied, “Sure! When?”

  He blurted, “Right now! And we can get dinner!”

  Astounded, she asked, “What do you mean see the Gipsies right now? Where?”

  “They’re at my uncle’s restaurant. He’s friends with them. I almost forgot they are there tonight—unannounced, of course.” By uncle he meant one of Roberto’s friends who buys wine from him.

  “Yes, Nico! You know how much I love them!”

  Quickly, he instructed, “I’ll pick you up on the bike in forty-five minutes. Be downstairs!”

  Luna hung up and ran to tell Tyler, announcing exuberantly, “Ty! You won’t believe this…Nico asked me to go see the Gipsy Kings with him. They’re jamming right now at his friend’s bistro. You know I love the Gipsy Kings!”

  Tyler shook his head, giving her a judgmental look, and scowled, “What happened to the work you did with Kristi?”

  “Ty, I want to go see them play, and dance…it will be fun! Nico is picking me up.”

  “Be careful. I hate when you go on that bike,” he said, clearly disappointed.

  Luna put her arms around him and kissed him on the lips. “I know—he’ll be careful.”

  Not having much time, she chose something she felt looked young and hip—a black jersey ruched miniskirt with a fitted black tank top. The outfit was sexy and she hoped it didn’t look like she was trying too hard. She topped it off with a classic ACNE Studios black leather motorcycle jacket and ankle boots she could dance in.

  In less than an hour, Nico pulled up in front of her building. Handing her a helmet, he opened the visor and looked her up and down. “Wow! Bella. You look really hot!”

  It was exactly what she wanted—needed—to hear. Climbing on the bike behind him, she hugged him hard. Nico joked, “Stop pressing your tits against me, I’ll get a hard-on!”

  She laughed, knowing he couldn’t feel anything except the thick black leather and metal hardware of the jacket. Before she knew it, Luna was swaying to the music of the Gipsy Kings playing to a small room of locals. A half dozen couples danced where tables had been pushed away for the occasion.

  When they launched into “Bamboleo,” Nico captured her by the waist, pulling her into his arms. Even though she’d never danced with him, Nico was a strong leader and she was able to keep up, swiveling her hips as he moved her around the floor.

  He whispered in her ear, “You’re a very sexy woman, Luna. Be careful, I may seduce you tonight.”

  She just shook her head and smiled at him. She knew he was just playing her—and it was fine—she took pleasure in the game.

  Near midnight, the waiters started putting chairs up on the tables. Luna was feeling tipsy, realizing they’d polished off two bottles of wine, and she’d eaten almost nothing.

  Climbing onto the bike, Luna even forgot to be afraid, and a few minutes later they pulled up in front of Emerson Theater.

  “Bella, why should we end this magical evening so early? The night is young,” Nico urged.

  “Nico, it’s after midnight. I should go home. Tyler will be worried.”

  “Text him you’ll be home soon.”

  Truth be told, Luna didn’t want to go home. She wanted to do what young people did—party all night and go to a club that ordinary people can’t get into. When Nico approached the velvet rope, the doorman waved them in and opened the door. She and Nico were whisked inside.


  The music was so loud you could literally feel the beats inside your body. Calvin Harris’s “Let’s Go” was playing and everyone was jumping up, fists in the air, bouncing to the beat. “Stay here, don’t move. If I lose you, I’ll text you. Keep your phone in your hand.”

  Before she could respond, Nico disappeared, leaving her standing there alone. She kept dancing along with everyone else who didn’t seem to have a partner. She was relieved when Nico wasn’t gone long. He had two drinks in hand—she didn’t need more to drink, but she took it.

  “Be careful, they’re very strong,” he warned her, yelling over the music.

  “I Need Your Love” began and the crowd went wild, raising their hands up high.

  Luna yelled to Nico, “I love this song!”

  Looking around the club, Luna suddenly felt awkward, being obviously the oldest person in the room. But she kept drinking and dancing like everyone else. Soon, though, she was wiped out, and her ears were ringing. She knew it was time for her to leave and asked Nico to get her a cab because she didn’t want to go on the bike. Taking her by the waist, he led her through the packed crowd.

  “Nico, I have to use the ladies’ room. Where is it?”

  He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “I’ll take you, bella. Just stay close to me.”

  They made it off the dance floor, and as they neared the exit, Luna saw him ask the coat check person for a key, which Nico used to unlock the private wash room door. He held it open for her, and she walked in. He followed.

  “Oh, Nico…it’s only a one-person room!” she exclaimed, expecting him to leave.

  “I know, Luna. Don’t worry. I just don’t want you to pass out and hit your head.”

  “Oh, OK,” she complied, hoisting her skirt up to sit on the toilet and draping it over her lap decorously.

  Waiting by the sink, Nico ran his fingers through his hair while looking in the mirror.

  Dizzy and sleepy, Luna couldn’t tell when she was finished peeing.

  “Luna, are you OK?”