Mahasamadhi: Preparing for the Final Exam

When Paramhansa Yogananda returned to India in 1935, it was at the summons of his guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar. 

Whether that call came telepathically or by ordinary means, we cannot say. Likely there were many reasons for his return: his family, especially his father; his disciples and gurubhais; and the fledgling work he had begun in India, including the school he founded.

Yogananda’s arrival created quite a stir. Newspapers — the “internet” of their day — followed his travels throughout the country. Hailed as India’s favorite son returning home, he was welcomed wherever he went.

From Chapter 42 of the “Autobiography of a Yogi” (Yogananda’s life story), one might think he never imagined that Sri Yukteswar would leave this world. But sometimes the soul — or Divine Mother — veils from our conscious mind what might otherwise seem obvious. Enlightened beings do not “overthink” the way we do, coloring everything with anxiety or fear. Instead, guidance flows to them as a steady stream of intuition, as natural as eating or drinking.

Stories of individuals who know the time of their departure from this world are uncommon but not unheard of. Yogananda himself gave many hints of both his future passing and (later) its imminence. Someone once asked me whether mahasamadhi was a kind of spiritual suicide. I laughed at the absurdity. A master does not leave this world out of disgust or disappointment. More importantly, an enlightened master no longer functions from ego-desire. The time, place, and manner of his passing may be intuitively known, but it is not an act of personal will. Rather, it is in harmony with the greater flow of divine will.

According to disciples’ accounts, both Sri Yukteswar and Lahiri Mahasaya were momentarily taken aback when the awareness of their impending departure surfaced in the conscious mind. Even a master may need to take brief refuge in the Self when the “news” arrives from above. We have no such report from disciples regarding Yogananda’s passing on March 7, 1952, however.

A dear friend of mine is now in hospice at Ananda Village. We knew each other briefly before either of us — independently — found Ananda and became disciples on this path. Recently we reminisced about his full and eventful life. He is ready for his astral airplane trip, and he hopes he might have a chance to see Swami Sri Yukteswar on Hiranyaloka, even if only briefly. Hiranyaloka is a very high astral world, where Sri Yukteswar is said to be preparing highly advanced souls for their final entrance into Cosmic Consciousness. I suspect Nakin may not be eligible to stay, but perhaps his sincere wish to see that realm — and to see Sri Yukteswar — will be granted.

Yogananda tells us that those who faithfully follow the spiritual path to the end of life will be greeted by him or one of the masters upon entering the astral world. I pray that my friend’s wish is fulfilled. And I pray for myself, and for each of us, that we may be spiritually and emotionally prepared when our own final exam arrives. My friend has always been straightforward, positive, energetic — a “Say yes, and make it snappy” kind of devotee.

As we celebrate the soul’s power over life and death — our own immortality — demonstrated by the conscious exit of both Paramhansa Yogananda and Swami Sri Yukteswar, let us also reflect on our own departure. The Bhagavad Gita and other great scriptures remind us that the thought at the moment of death has a profound influence on our experience in the astral world and on our next birth.

Let us not spend those final moments dwelling on regrets or unfulfilled desires. Instead, let us offer ourselves joyfully and unreservedly into the arms of Divine Mother, eager to meet the master’s loving embrace. The soul is untouched by karma. Freed from the physical body, we are closer to the soul, which in the astral world is only one step from the causal body of pure ideation.

The more we live intuitively — quieting the static of the restless mind so we can hear the whispers of eternity — the more natural our transition will be when the physical body is shed and we awaken in the astral body of light. Without the human brain and nervous system, we will function with greater clarity if, in this life, we learn to live more in the astral body of calm intuitive feeling, open to higher guidance moment by moment.

Let us prepare for our own astral balloon ride into the astral world. And as we do, we will find far greater inspiration, joy, and harmony than the ever-anxious, ever-grasping ego could ever offer.

Blessings to you on the anniversary of the Mahasamadhis of Paramhansa Yogananda (3.7.52) and his guru (3.9.36),

Swami Hrimananda

And the Light Shineth in Darkness! Why?

 ”And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.1”  

Can “darkness” comprehend anything at all? Does not light simply banish darkness by its very presence? 

These are questions that arise when reading verse 5 of John, Chapter 1: 

It is commonly understood that the Gospel of John is the most metaphysical of the four gospels, focusing on the divinity of Jesus and somewhat less on the details of the historical and Jewish Jesus.  

For those unfamiliar with the chapter, a complete reading of that chapter reveals that the term “light” is a reference to Jesus Christ. 

Just as the chapter itself contrasts the impersonal light of Christ with the person of Jesus so we see a similar contrast in the fact that verse 5 says the light shines in darkness while the darkness fails to comprehend the light. 

Normally light shining into a dark room illuminates the room and thus the darkness vanishes. But in verse 5 the two coexist. 

Added to the contrast is the whole idea of darkness comprehending anything at all. Clearly the terms of light and dark are metaphorical, and the former is divine consciousness, and the latter is, at best, ignorant of divine consciousness.  

Here one is reminded of Advaita Vedanta saying that behind all appearances, name, form and thought is the eternal, unchanging Consciousness: Satchidanandam (God: ever-existing, ever-conscious, ever-new bliss). Both co-exist in time and space, and in individual human consciousness. The Spirit, though residing at the heart of all things, remains untouched, untainted by the outer expression taken by name and form.  

The choice we humans have been given is to seek that light or to remain in ignorance, in disregard, or even in rejection of that light. If Jesus Christ is that light and if that light is the “life of men” then we, too, are made of the light. “Without him was not anything made that was made.” 

The very nature of things made requires the contrast between light and dark. Things having shape, form, name and many attributes must necessarily hide the light, which is their essence. Creation is the very drama of light and dark, and in this sense, the “dark” does not necessarily reject the light, at least not at first.  

But to perpetuate itself, the creation naturally has a bias toward form, and form has a bias toward turning its back on the light. Thus, an impetus can become a conscious choice, a rejection and a rebellion, especially when it perceives but rejects the magnetic call of the light to return to it. As the impetus to be separate becomes conscious and intentional, it becomes essentially “satanic” whether in the macrocosm of creation or the microcosm of one’s mind. 

When a beam of light is sent out into the darkness of the night, there is a point at which one, at a distance, can no longer see the beam of light. It’s not that the light or dark are vying for supremacy so much as the light has gone too far from its source and is no longer visible. One must move back toward the light to see it. Light and dark are not opposites; dark is the absence of light. Light is the essential reality of all things. 

Think of Jesus, himself. How few understood who he was. “Who do men say I am?” He asked. You and I also must ask ourselves the same question. A Christ such as Jesus comes to reveal that light to those with eyes to see it. There weren’t many who did but there were enough who gave their lives in testimony and as a result changed human history.  

We face two types of darkness: the darkness inherent in matter, in the human form, and in the human drama of life that requires so much of our energy and attention to deal with our very existence and which at the same time invites us to seek happiness in its material rewards. The second type of darkness is that which we create by our personal fantasies, errors, projections of happiness, fears and lack of clarity and even lack of goodwill, meaning selfishness and meanness.  

The path back to the light is not easy and is infected with the darkness that comprehends it not; the path back requires more than a mere intellectual acceptance. Our souls require an injection, a transmission of the light from a source of that light. That transmission, that source is the guru, the avatar, the savior. “But as many as received him, to them gave he the power to become the sons of God.”2 The living Christ-masters who descend age after age are the transmitters of that light to those who will “receive them.” 

This isn’t a denial that at the heart of all things is that light. Like the Prodigal son who remembered his life at his father’s home, our souls have the memory of that light. But the memory is not enough given the darkness that surrounds us and around which we constructed our own self-definitions. The savior comes first to awaken that memory and then, for those who will truly “receive Him,” the savior can pour out the grace into that soul for its redemption. First comes the remembrance; then comes our own intense self-effort which like a magnet attracts the uplifting power of divine grace.  

As name and form (duality) rule the created universe, so must the light use instruments through which to shine. I would go further than even this and say that the purpose of our existence is to be channels for the light. 

There is a tendency to see God apart from us in His heaven; or to imagine Satchidanandam separate and apart from the visible creation, untouched by it. While there’s nothing wrong with these static and simplistic images, we can never fully understand the “why” of all of this. Nor do I pretend to have a satisfying answer to the “why” question. Paramhansa Yogananda said simply: “You will know when you will know.” He also suggested that we save some questions for when we meet the Creator ourselves. It is worthy of note that no great saint, savior or avatar has ever expressed disappointment or resentment towards God’s purpose.  

However, without the logical conundrum of positing that God is somehow incomplete, let us take a cue from science and accept what simply is: this creation. I suggest therefore that we not view the creation as incomplete but rather as a window, an opportunity to see its completeness in the contemplation of the Spirit manifested in creation. We might then adopt the view that the purpose of creation is to enable the awakening of self-awareness in a name and form (the human form) capable of achieving transcendence of the natural limitations of its own form, seeing the Spirit AS the creation; WITHIN the creation; and even UNTOUCHED and BEYOND the creation. Let me make my case: 

Satchidanandam sounds like an ideal description of God: ever-existing (immortal); ever-conscious (omniscient); ever blissful (ananda). Yogananda added a sneaky phrase to the “Ananda” part: “ever-new.” Now how can anything be “ever-new” and static at the same time? I suggest it cannot be. As my teacher, Swami Kriyananda, now famously has added: “It is the nature of bliss to share.” Herein, I believe, is a secret that Yogananda hints at but didn’t feel the world was ready for: it is not that God (Satchidanandam) is somehow incomplete but its very nature is to take shape through name and form and to discover itself, its light, in the uncomprehending darkness that is, both ironically and necessarily, the nature of name and form.  

Yes, as others far wiser have said: creation is a game; a lila; a play; a great drama. Yogananda said that “The drama of life has for its moral the fact that it is merely that: a drama, an illusion.”3 There, he said it.  

What I feel to add, if that is fair to say, is that this great drama isn’t just a disappointment or a conundrum, a misfortunate to us because of its troubles. The very purpose of creation is for the light to produce the name and form that at last cognizes the great drama and the great light of God upon which it is built: WE ARE the apogee, the purpose, the raison d’etre. “Who do men say I AM?” 

I can’t say that the light is somehow compelled by its nature to do this, but I’m not sure the distinction is useful since reality suggests that both are part and parcel of reality. It is not unlike the nuances in Advaita Vedanta between pure non-duality, modified duality and duality. What IS, simply IS.  

The dualists who worship God in name and form and are consumed by their love are no less great than those who are absorbed in the state of nirbikalpa samadhi. 

As I heard other friends say, “We were born for this.” Isn’t this the “good news” of the gospel? The promise of our soul’s immortality? Of course, it is, but it is also something else: like it or not, it is necessary. Like playing golf by the rules, it’s the only way it can be. Right here, right now, the light is shining in darkness. The light is as much a reality with each of us right now as it can ever be. We need only to re-direct our love and attention, and self-definition, to the light. With our effort and the savior’s grace, we will be free. 

Joy to you! 

Swami Hrimananda 

1. John 1:5

2: John 1:12

3. 3 Essence of Self-Realization, The Wisdom of Paramhansa Yogananda, Chapter 1, “The Folly of Materialism,” number 3.