Self-acceptance vs self-acceptance! All life is a play

Note: today, September 26, is the anniversary date in 1895 when the great yogi, Yogavatar, Lahiri Mahasaya (Shyama Charan Lahiri) left his physical body in the conscious exit known as "mahasamadhi" of a great saint. To ready about his life and service and spiritual attainments visit the newly created website: www.Lahiri-Mahasaya.org.

In a few days I will have attained the ripe old age of 66! Fortunately for me, 66 is the new 56 (or younger). What I find characterizes this stage of life is the need for self-acceptance.

Actually, there is a need for both self-acceptance AND Self-acceptance.

During one's middle life, working-type years, one is constantly pushing and striving. For most people that effort is to acquire material possessions, human love, family, success, health and recognition of one sort or another. Nothing wrong with these goals up to a point, as they are both natural and necessary for the development of character and maturity for most people.

It's like walking against a strong wind in your face. You lean into the wind, head down, pushing with all your strength and effort. If, after hours of struggle, the wind were suddenly to abate, you might even fall flat on your face! Certainly you'd feel some relief but also some disorientation. 

When fighting a battle it isn't the time to assess the costs or other consequences. Only when victory or defeat becomes a fact, do we stand up, take a deep breath, and view the result.

So it often is with life itself. There comes a point where "effort ends in ease." Let me explain: first, not for everyone, of course, nor am I talking about the classic point of one's retirement from active, working life. Nowadays with 66 - 76 being the new 56-66, it is common for many to want to continue working, even if they don't need to. Why? Because being still healthy and creative, and even at the pinnacle of one's skills, there's simply no desire to step down and do what......exactly?

Nonetheless, therefore, even for those who continue an active, service-full life, there will likely be a shift in consciousness. One finds stories from one's past popping into your head and speech (only in later years do they start repeating themselves with little or no prompting or context!!!!)

One begins to reflect upon one's life and experiences naturally and spontaneously. The metabolism perhaps slows, wisdom flows naturally as do opportunities (and the need) for mentoring or guiding others, perhaps one's future successors. 

But something else is likely to happen, and, even before what I describe above is in full force: the "chickens come home to roost." This means that unfulfilled desires, perhaps shoved aside in the process of making life choices, such as marriage and family, and contending with life's middle-aged duties and obligations and intense activities, raise their flag as if to say, "Remember me? The clock of your life is ticking and little time is left to fulfill your 'bucket list'"!

This is not dissimilar to a "mid-life crises" and in fact that may even be when these chickens return to roost. That's why I say this stage is likely to happen BEFORE the reflective stage.

In this crises of self-examination and self-awareness, we may stumble a bit with moods, depression, anger, frustration and even some pretty dumb things done or said impulsively.

For those who set about emptying their bucket list, they may be simply postponing the stage of self-acceptance or perhaps their adventures in pursuing their list is an active form of self-acceptance.

Whether self-acceptance takes the form of contentment, calmness and wisdom or the somewhat more active form of pursuing one's not-yet-achieved dreams (travel, e.g., being typical), the process is more or less the same though I am speaking more of the reflective stage than the active stage (which by necessity is short-lived usually---due to health, money or a list that is finally completed). 

Reflectively, like the wake of a speed boat whose waves slow and spread out as the boat comes gradually to a stop, we now begin to see our life and our personality (habits, tendencies, and even our now aging appearance) in a clearer light and perspective (than when, during middle life, we were constantly in motion pursuing fulfillment in the future tense of life). 

No doubt we won't like everything we see. A variety of emotions will surface: denial, anger, grief....the usual litany.....all leading (one hopes) to self-acceptance. Self-acceptance leads to contentment. Contentment to reflection and reflection to wisdom. This is where most people stop.

For the yogi and the devotee who seeks Truth, who seeks to know God, joy, the light of the soul or eternal freedom in infinite bliss, self-acceptance leads to Self-acceptance.

As a grandfather I find it natural to delight in my grandchildren's innocence and childhood even as I reflect on their budding traits and their possible evolution and challenges as they grow towards adulthood. 

As a yogi, these flower-buds of traits are but a sampling of the infinite variety of traits, experiences, attitudes, and lives our souls can pursue. 

It is natural therefore to step away from identification with my own life story and personality and re-affirm more deeply and with greater interest (as the clock of life is ticking away) my soul's call to awaken in the perfect bliss of God. 

"The drama of life has for its lesson that it is but a drama," Paramhansa Yogananda stated. At this stage of life, that's all life seems to be: a drama. Whether this year's politics, last year's wars and catastrophes----all a great play wherein tears and laughter, pleasure and pain alternate like actors changing costumes and roles.

The lesson in this insight is to turn away (not in rejection but with contentment and gratitude for having been part of a good show) and climb the spiral staircase (of the spine) to the "heaven (as Jesus put it) that is within you." We must now more soberly contemplate that, for us, the play is in its final act(s). The time is coming when we must "exit, stage right."

Joy and grace upon a sun-kissed Seattle day whose hidden melancholy whispers that "winter is coming."

Swami Hrimananda

What is Kriya Yoga?

Padma and I (and others) just returned from a four-day retreat at Ananda Village whose theme was the art and science of kriya yoga. Kriya Yoga is the central practice of the meditation teachings brought from India to the West by Paramhansa Yogananda and which are at the heart of the spirituality of Ananda worldwide. This article was sent to Ananda members in the Seattle area.

Kriya Yoga is an advanced form of meditation known and recognized throughout the world. It was re-introduced to the world in 1861 to a humble Hindu accountant, Shyama Charan Lahiri (aka Lahiri Mahasaya) by the mysterious Himalayan saint known only as “Babaji” who gave “Lahiri” permission to initiate any sincere seeker of any faith whether monk or householder.

Through the traditional transmission from teacher to student-disciple-teacher, the spread of Kriya Yoga was destined to encircle the globe. It is well suited to the modern age where the emphasis is upon personal experience over belief. Paramhansa Yogananda’s now famous life story, Autobiography of a Yogi, put Kriya Yoga on the world map of popular meditation techniques.

Both by tradition and by intention, Kriya Yoga (KY) has been given only to those who have received preparation and training using various preparatory meditation techniques. Traditional yoga training includes a healthy diet, right attitude and moderation in sense faculties, study of spiritual teachings, and physical exercises in addition to a spectrum of meditation and purification practices such as yoga postures and breath control.

The basic purpose of this training is both to test the aspirant’s sincerity AND to prepare the body, nervous system, and the mind for deeper and more advanced meditation practices and experiences. With the popularity of meditation ever growing, most people naturally seek physical and mental benefits. For this purpose, mindfulness techniques (such as the Hong Sau - "Watching the Breath" - technique taught by Yogananda) are more than adequate. Kriya Yoga is for those seeking enlightenment (using any number of other possible words or terminology).

The other prerequisite intended by the reintroduction of KY into popular use is the recognition ­— part in gratitude and part as a transmission of actual spiritual awakening — of the need for a God-realized guru or preceptor. Such a person is no mere ordinary spiritual teacher; nor is the intended transmission thwarted by the guru’s no longer being in living, human form. Any technique given as initiation, including the Kriya technique, functions as much as a “channel” for the transmission of higher consciousness as it does a technique of meditation. Without the former, the latter is only partly effective. As we are “Spirit” and not merely a body with a personality, so the spiritual freedom we seek cannot come through merely material means or psychological efforts alone.

The true Goal of advanced meditation practices transcends ego, personality, body and matter: it “lives” in a realm without second, without form, and in unconditional consciousness. Such a state is therefore its source and being beyond ordinary perception must be channeled and received bit-by-bit just as a computer or a cell phone conversation carries information bit-by-bit. The technique is to the goal as a cell phone is to the substance of a conversation. The cell phone alone cannot substitute for the conversation even as the cell phone makes the conversation possible.

But as the guru or preceptor is a transmitting station, a sub-station and transformer, for the ultimate Goal, we must recognize that the preceptor, too, has no substantive personality. Our “discipleship” is not to a person but to an “instrument” (a rather “conscious” cell phone tower, if you will) sending us transmissions from Infinity. In this somewhat limited sense, then, the technique itself can become our guide and guru because it allows the transmission of higher consciousness to reach us. As Yogananda said of himself in the role of guru, “God is the guru. I killed Yogananda long ago.” Just as we can no more pick up our cell phone and call the President of the United States, so we must call the switchboard and talk to one of God's reps! Eventually, by building a relationship of trust with those who have His ear, we’ll get through to “the top.”

Yogananda, as the guru, is no longer present in a human form. Far too much is made these days by prospective and otherwise sincere devotees of the fear or doubt surrounding a discipleship relationship with him since it must needs be an inner relationship alone. Recognizing that through kriya yoga practice one can consciously draw on the spiritual power of Yogananda’s omnipresent consciousness is hardly a threat, except perhaps to the obstructive, no-saying donkey we call the ego!

Nor does such a relationship prohibit the recognition of other God-realized channels, for in God consciousness, there are no distinctions and no competition for loyalty. Whether world teacher or unknown, a free-soul is no more, or no less, free in God.

Given, however, that few devotees, even among the most committed, can spend more than an hour or two each day in the practice of kriya yoga, it must be recognized that the company of other (and especially more advanced) devotees is one of the most important ways of drawing on that spiritual transmission. This outward “transmission” is necessary so long as we are “outward” in our consciousness and self-definitions. Serving the outward work of the guru’s transmission with fellow devotees is easily one of the most important ways to advance spiritually and transcend ego consciousness. It doesn’t necessarily mean being a teacher: there are many ways to serve, each according to what is best spiritually for him. If one’s life circumstances permits such association but one balks at this opportunity, one would do well to question his spiritual readiness.

A wonderful description of Kriya Yoga can be found in Chapter 26 of “Autobiography of a Yogi.” The book can be read online for free at www.Ananda.org. You can also watch several video presentations by Padma and I on our own website: www.AnandaWA.org/kriya-yoga/ .

Sincerely and with unceasing blessings,

Nayaswamis Hriman and Padma

Meditation Beyond the Brain!

updated: Sun, 8-23-15

Studying the teachings and life of Lahiri Mahasaya, and the teachings of one of his great disciples, Swami Sri Yukteswar, and finally, their emissary to the West and to the modern age, Paramhansa Yogananda, one encounters a tradition with very ancient roots. The teachings of India are almost impossibly complex and variegated. But here I am speaking more of the breadth and depth of yoga techniques, almost as a subset of the theology and philosophy of India which is known as Sanaatan Dharma. Yoga is the applied spirituality of India. The essential message and purpose of the yogic science was announced at the beginning of Yogananda's public life in America with the publication of his first book, which he called The Science of Religion.

This line of great spiritual teachers, who we view as the greatest of teachers--avatars--represent a tradition that focuses on techniques ("yoga") that utilize subtle aspects of the human body and mind to achieve states of consciousness that exist beyond and independent of the human body, including its nervous system and the brain.

It is no coincidence that scientific studies of the brain and the effects of meditation upon the body and brain are growing exponentially. Looking back we can see that Yogananda and his guru and param guru were tuning into the consciousness of a new age even as they are, simultaneously, carrying on a teaching that is incomprehensibly ancient. Not only carrying on, but clarifying and unwrapping this science from the dustbin of indifference and medieval secrecy. The clarifying aspect includes stripping away, as one who prunes branches from a rose bush or apple tree, techniques, superstitions and non-essential elements from the yogic treasury which had become dusty, hoary, misunderstood, and "overweight."

Science is taking human knowledge and awareness to the very edge of matter and energy: indeed, beyond the fringe of what can be observed, verified, experimented upon and proven. In this, science is beginning to hit a wall beyond which it will find exponentially increasing difficulty to penetrate. I have read, for example, that "string theory," though the current best guess explanation for certain esoteric (to most of us) phenomenon, cannot, the scientists admit, ever be "proven," at least not in the conventional sense we attribute to testing of drugs, rockets, and the human brain.

It is the human mind that is driven by curiosity and thirsting for knowledge. Beyond the edge of matter and energy is a realm of subtlety that can easily be viewed as "mind" or consciousness. At least it has suspiciously similar characteristics. It's like time and space being curved and turning in on itself. We've gone so far in our search for the essence of matter and energy that we find ourselves facing ourselves: the observer of the experiment cannot but effect, even by his expectations, the result of the experiment!!!! And that's not even attempting to describe what we discover out past the fringes of matter and energy.

The mind, seeking ultimate knowledge, finds its Self. Mind turned inward upon observing its Self finds its Self looking into a mirror. Like two mirrors facing each other, the image goes on and on into Infinity.

Yogananda was very much a "bhakti:" a lover of God, especially in the aspect of Divine Mother. Yet, like his guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar and like Lahiri Mahasaya, he explored and shared the yoga techniques as a science. A science is something anyone can explore and use and discover the same basic results. In the science of mind, however, the only laboratory is the mind itself and the tools in the lab of consciousness are the human body, the mind, and self-awareness. The mind-body-breath of the yogi scientist must be refined and honed no less precisely than than the calibration of the Hadron Collider or any of the most sophisticated electron microscope or the most esoteric mathematical formulae.

Modern science requires a high degree of education and dedication. Higher education is costly. The tools of science, like the Hadron Collider, costs billions of dollars. Yoga techniques don't require expensive tools but the price of exploration to the edge of discovery is no less in terms of dedication and personal commitment. Just as only a few can be top level, leading edge quantum physicists, so there are but a few yogis who would be masters of the yoga science. As Yogananda's guru put it, "Saints are not produced in batches each semester like accountants." Just as millions of people work in scientific fields (engineering, medicine, research, etc.) so only a handful can be "Einsteins" in their area of expertise.

But that doesn't mean that millions can't benefit from the discoveries of the yogi-scientists, just as millions benefit from the fruits of scientific advances and discoveries. Few of the millions of those now meditating intend to, want to, or even contemplate the existence of highest states of consciousness achieved by advanced yogis and saints. Yet, they benefit in countless ways -- physically, mentally, and spiritually -- from their daily practice.

Scientists are grappling with trying to understand the human brain. Their professional dogmas and their tools dictate that they must look only to what they can see and touch (i.e., the brain) for the source of human thought, emotions, memories and health. And they are right to do so. Even common sense suggests to our minds, whether from the overarching evidence of biological evolution, or from the functions of the human body itself, that the brain produces consciousness and not the other way around. For now, they must even largely ignore the growing body of evidence that consciousness exists outside the brain. That's ok -- for now, and, for their present purposes.

But the yogi-scientists have proved otherwise using their tools and techniques to reach those conclusions. These conclusions -- that consciousness exists outside and independent of the brain -- are just as provable as the experiments of the scientists, provided you use the only tool and method that exists to discover this reality: consciousness itself. This tool needs sophisticated calibration through a strict diet and vibrant healthy lifestyle, a strong moral and ethical code that assists in overcoming narrow self-interest and helps gain mental detachment from the body, the senses, and personality.  It requires wholehearted commitment to the pursuit of a level of consciousness that is ego and body transcendent. It requires one-pointed attention to the details of one's training and the regimen given by one's highly advanced teacher.

Let me digress for a moment. My son, Kashi, recently described a scene (from a movie? I'm not sure.) where three robots were talking to one another. One of them declared something like, "I know that it was I who just said that." Kashi reported that the consensus was that this proved that the robot was self-aware. "Really," I said, "does it?" I believe that most people today, being exposed to the rising rash of robot-awareness but not having thought particularly deeply about AI (artificial intelligence), have yet to make the most basic distinction there is: the distinction between the appearance of consciousness and self-awareness itself.

Just as a drunken person might talk or act but not remember what he said or did, so self-awareness is personal and individual. It cannot be detected or proven outside of itself (meaning by others) unless it takes on the appearance of sentience. Walking, talking, writing, typing, moving, etc. all are signs of life and life suggests some degree of awareness. By mechanical or electronic means (preprogramming), no matter how sophisticated is your imitation of consciousness, the appearance is NOT proof of the reality! Only I can say of myself, I am conscious. Yet saying it doesn't prove it. Only "I" can know it.

A movie may seem lifelike but we know, when watching it, that it is only a movie. And even though we get caught up in the movie, laughing and crying, getting carried by the story, its impact very quickly fades away, just like all the other emotions and thoughts that we, ourselves, have. You see, not even our thoughts and emotions are, themselves, the proof of our self-awareness. They are like leaves on a tree, bright and green for the summer, then fading into Fall and falling away in winter while yet the trunk and roots of the tree remain impervious to outer, superficial change.

Descartes said, "I think therefore I am," and, pardon me, old friend, but it is truer to say "I am conscious, therefore I can think." With our cleverness our robots may be able to imitate life and art and intelligence, but we can NEVER create self-awareness. Great art and ideas descend from a higher level of reality where no form, no logic, no past memory nor merely regurgitated conglomeration of preprogrammed data can be substituted for the flow of intelligent, self-conscious awareness. I say, "I had an idea." This is true, but it is truer to say that an "idea appeared in the mind." It might be a melody, or formula, or a solution to a problem.

What science cannot and presumably will never detect with instruments is that invisibly encoded in the flow of energy which is called many things (say, for now, "Life Force"), similar to DNA, is innate intelligence and the impulse power of intention. (After all, nothing that science can observe or test will ever explain "Why we exist at all.") Like wires inside conduit, or language embedded in a digital cell phone signal, ideas and intelligence exist within the very channel of life's energy from conception to our departure at death. Let me ask you this: "Will robots have "ideas?"

I admit that I don't know where the boundary is in the distant future between biological, human genetic material (sperm and ovum) and human, self-aware life. But I do know that no amount of data or manipulation of data can create inspiration or consciousness.

Returning now to the science of yoga, the yogi-scientist, in addition to the regimen outlined above, uses the breath and the mind as vehicles or highways that can take the human mind back to the place of awareness that transcends the functions of the brain. Life in the human body begins with our first breath and ends with our last breath. It is the most fundamental sign of life and consciousness. (BTW, robots don't breathe!) Wherever life comes from and wherever it may go when it leaves the body, it comes and goes evidenced by and carried upon the back of our breath. In Paramhansa Yogananda's famous life story, "Autobiography of a Yogi," he wrote "The ancient yogis discovered that the secret of cosmic consciousness [consciousness beyond the brain] is intimately linked with breath mastery. This is India's unique and deathless contribution to the world's treasury of knowledge."

The brain and nervous system are designed to operate the physical body, to protect, sustain, and defend the body. But these fulfill, for human life at least, a dual role: not only to create and protect the human body, but also, endowed with the power of abstract thought, logic, reason, and memory, to explore and question the very essence and basis of life itself. In the highly developed and advanced potential of the human brain and nervous system, consciousness finds the means, an organ, fit to express and reveal itself as it Self: self-aware and, ultimately, independent of its own vehicle.

Just as most of us cannot survey the heavens above or the intricacies of life within without a sense of awe at the overwhelming power, majesty, intelligence and beauty that cannot but be the motive force behind it all, so too the evolution of life has for its highest purpose, the yogis tell us, the revelation of Self-discovery: a game of divine "hide-n-seek." No matter that this Infinite Consciousness bides its time through incomprehensibly long eons of time and seemingly microscopically slow evolutionary processes, for in the mind of Mind it is all but an idea, a dream: real seeming only to the players in the dream but not to the playwright.

Every night in sleep, the world and our body is whisked away on a magic carpet of subconsciousness. Our troubles are, for a few hours, gone as we sleep in space unmindful of the bag of bones which is our prison. In this prison the bars of bones and walls of flesh prevent us from seeing the blue skies of omnipresence. The yogi learns conscious sleep wherein the alpha brain waves and the theta brain waves are brought into equilibrium between conscious and subconscious states.

For brain transcendence is, like the horizon line at the sea, a thin line between the ocean of subconscious and the sky of the conscious mind. The yogi learns to "escape" through the worm hole that lies thinly between the two. The vehicle that takes him there is the breath. For when the breath can be made to be quieted (by consistency and intensity of yoga practice), the brain functions that tie him to the body are sufficiently quieted that the "escape route" appears.

In conscious freedom from the pounding heart and breath which tie us to the body, the yogi's consciousness can soar and feel a joy that is without sensory or circumstantial conditions. Tasting this frequently and then daily, the yogi gradually achieves control of autonomic functions of the body and eventually this state of consciousness can be retained regardless of outer involvements and activities.

This in brief and narrowly described summary is the science of religion. No use of religious terminology is needed to free us, though it contributes greatly given the fullness of the human character and its need for feeling, inspiration, and self-giving. One cannot aspire or love or be devoted to a merely abstract concept. The effort it takes and hinted at above demand a dedication beyond any form of human self-giving to a cause or person. Love for the guru (as in incarnation of God); love for God as joy or peace; love for God in any sincere and pure form...........love, as dedication and commitment and as the willingness to sacrifice all lesser things for the pearl of great price.......love is the beginning and bliss is the end.

"Think" beyond the brain; beyond the ego; soar in breathlessness outside of the prison of ego. Think freedom; be free; give your all to the All. Meditation will take us beyond the brain; beyond the body; beyond the ego, and, finally, beyond the mind and perceive objects into pure and infinite Consciousness. No matter how much time; effort (whether mild or intense); how many lives.....for, indeed, God is always with us; God IS us; God is within us, forever.

When does it all end? Yogananda, when asked this question replied, "When we achieve endlessness."

Joy to you in the contemplation of No-thing!

Swami Hrimananda

Happy Birthday Gurudeva, Paramhansa Yogananda!

Today, Monday, is January 5, the day, in 1893, Mukunda Lal Ghosh (later Swami Yogananda and in 1936 given the title "Paramhansa" by his guru) was born in India. His birth is celebrated throughout the world by his followers and by many others for whom he has been an inspiration. Having left this earth in 1952, Yogananda is now best known for his life story, "Autobiography of a Yogi." It remains, even today, a strong selling book title throughout the world and has become a literary and spiritual classic. In fact, many, myself included, revere that book as a scripture for a new age! It is well worth the read, by anyone.

There have been and are still many true and wise spiritual teachers in the world. It is folly to try to compare them for the purposes of deciding who's the best, or, the most enlightened! Popularity is hardly a safe measure: the crowd in Jerusalem called out for Jesus to be crucified, remember? Most true saints have some following but always, during their lifetimes, it is only a relatively small number. Rock stars and football heroes have far more fans, these days! While in many ways regrettable, one can understand why the Catholic Church thinks it best to make sure their saints are safely buried before making any pronouncements about their sanctity!!! (LOL)

Well, Yogananda is indeed safely buried! Yes, there are stories of many miracles, small and large: even raising the dead.....twice! But, miracles can't really be proven, only averred or testified to. Our souls find their way to God-realized saints in a way at least similar to why and how two people fall in love. By this I mean: "Gee, who knows?" No one can answer such questions, no more than anyone can prove to the satisfaction of reason and the senses that God exists.

Is it, then, a matter of taste? Preference? For those who come and go, it would seem so. I say that because I've seen many "devotees come, and devotees go" (words taken from a chant by Yogananda: "I Will Be Thine Always"). (Ditto for human love, yes?) But there are those true relationships, even in human love, that endure the tests of time and trials. And those are soul relationships.

Some saints serve only a few souls. Others, world teachers, perhaps, have many: even millions. Jesus Christ's mere 33 years on this planet in an obscure and confounding tiny, dusty 'burb of the Roman Empire, changed the course of history. Ditto: Buddha.

I am a disciple of Paramhansa Yogananda by the operation of karma, first and foremost. Once my past karma kicked me from behind to remember, I embraced my discipleship. Since then a Divine Helmsman has taken over. At each step if I say "Yes," a gentle but discernible force shows me the "next step."

I am inspired by the universality of Yogananda's spiritual teachings; by the breadth of his wisdom; the intimacy of his love for people; by the power of kriya yoga and the raja yoga techniques that he clarified, taught and brought out of the dustbin of India's ancient yogic traditions. Yogananda set into motion a clarion call for the establishment and development of small, intentional communities. It's as if he foresaw the depersonalizing impact of globalization, Wall Street, terrorism, and "politics-as-usual."

He evidently saw the need for a new and sustainable lifestyle that fostered individual initiative and creativity; and, cooperation with others. To that end he founded small businesses and small farms, and a school for children. He emphasized natural living, including living in nature, away from cities, and vegetarianism for those who could adapt to it.

These things don't necessarily distinguish him from other spiritual leaders but they are aspects of his outer persona. They are things you can point to and emulate and learn and grow from doing them.

His devotional nature can be seen in his poems, songs, chants, writings and talks. He expresses a traditional, indeed orthodox (though nonsectarian) view of God. Some modern, forward-thinking and educated people are not ready for the "God" part, nor yet for a devotional "bhav." In this he didn't compromise but yet only showed his devotional side under circumstances and with those that were open to it.

When one reads his autobiography, one sees in his story and also in that of his guru (Swami Sri Yukteswar) and his param-guru (Lahiri Mahasaya) a distinct form of natural, even egalitarian, behavior apropos to our age. Both of these great saints, and therefore Yogananda himself, de-emphasized their own personal roles and spiritual attainment. The trappings of guru-dom are noticeably marginalized in the lives of these three Self-realized souls.

Thus another characteristic, and one also easily seen in the life of Ananda's founder, Swami Kriyananda (a direct disciple of Yogananda), is a naturalness of being that finds ready acceptance in innumerable circumstances and with a wide range of people. Lack of spiritual pretense, in other words, characterizes Yogananda, his teachers, and the work of Ananda. This, too, I find attractive.

In this new age, the universal trajectory of consciousness is upon the individual. Hierarchy, tribe, race, religion, obedience, dogmas, blind worship: these are losing their appeal as forms of primary self-identity. Instead, there is an increasing emphasis on personal choice and freedom, on conscience, cooperation and creativity. For true devotees, however, devotion -- guided by wisdom -- is the natural outcome of a higher consciousness that sees the vastness of God beyond the littleness of time, space and individuality. Thus, the primary emphasis both overall and in spirituality in this age is upon self-effort. (Grace, the corollary of self-effort isn't ignored. Instead, it is seen as that result of self-effort. In the prior age, spiritual consciousness was seen to be primarily the product of grace, not self-effort.)

Lastly, and as extension of de-emphasizing personal virtue or his own spiritual stature (which, for Yogananda, as an avatar, is beyond normal comprehension), one finds that Yogananda's life resembles, at least in some measure, our own. Born to a middle-class family, Yogananda's father was a corporate executive, and his mother was creatively and actively engaged in her community, with her extended family and in the education and training of her children. She was known for her charitable giving.

Yogananda, in his youth, excelled in sports and traveled extensively by train throughout India. He completed his B.A. degree. In America he was a popular and charismatic lecturer and met and befriended famous and talented people wherever he went. He was active in social issues, spoke against racism of all kinds, he was involved with the founding of the United Nations, and instrumental in immigration reform. He lived in Los Angeles, a hotbed of fashion, entertainment, and forward thinking spirituality, where he had many friends and students. He visited and lectured in every major city in America and was a tourist at Yellowstone National Park, Alaska and many other famous sites. Yogananda traveled throughout Europe and Asia. All of these are aspects of modern life even today. (He evidently never flew commercially but certainly would have if he had lived longer!)

Nonetheless, these outward aspects cannot fully explain the real person, nor my own, or anyone's attraction to his teachings, his persona, and to his ever-living presence. A spiritual "giant" emanates a powerful, spiritual vibration that acts as a magnet upon souls seeking divine attunement. Like bees finding flowers, the soul-to-soul call draws us to God-consciousness in human form.

I will only mention in passing his great contributions to religious dogma and theology. An explanation of seven revolutionary teachings of Yogananda was recently written by Nayaswami Jyotish Novak, Ananda's spiritual director (worldwide). It can be found at http://www.jyotishanddevi.org/. Yogananda reconciled non-dual philosophy with dualism; the divine nature of Jesus with our own human nature; Jesus' status as "Son of God" with that of other great world teachers; the seeming disintegration of society with the apparent advances in knowledge; a personal perception of God with God's infinite nature; metaphysical with medical healing; renunciation with life in the world; biological evolution with spiritual evolution, ah, just to name, "like," a few!

Happy birthday, Gurudeva!

Reincarnation: Making a Comeback!

Yes, it's true: studies show that belief in reincarnation is making a comeback. Did you know that Matt Damon believes that he'll be "bourne" again?

Anyway: here we go again. I suppose anyone reading this would have seen the movie, now rather aged, "Groundhog Day." Starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell in a romantic comedy, Groundhog Day features a story in which the protagonist must repeat one day in his life until he "gets it right." It's a comedic study on reincarnation that never mentions reincarnation. It's a delightful, if somewhat silly, movie.

It surprises me, on the one hand, that people scoff at the idea of reincarnation. Yet, on the other hand, why wouldn't they: almost no one can seriously recall even one past life. (Those who do are usually assumed to be a little "light-headed.")

Thing is: can you remember all the incidents and facts of your present life that you DON'T remember? Duh, of course not. Fact is we don't remember 99.9999% of our current life. Our early childhood probably consists of a few fleeting images. As for the rest of our years, we could only reconstruct them in soft chewy bites by referencing jobs we've held, births, deaths, divorces and on and on. It's shocking how quickly we forget the facts. What stays with us, however, is the sense of success, or failure, happiness, grief and the many small but mounting repetitions of attitudes, skills, words, and habits.

I joke with students in my classes that anyone who is a parent must surely believe in reincarnation. Watch your infant grow and pay close attention: from whence comes that fully-armed nuclear bomb of tendencies?

While I admit that most average people on the planet don't waste time speculating on the origins of the universe, the existence of God, the source of evil, and the wide disparity of wealth, health, success, failure, suffering, happiness and longevity. But some do: most likely you and I, right?

A thoughtful person, putting aside for the sake of and the joy of contemplation, the nagging need for proof, would no doubt question the "why's" of life. The answer to those facts of disparity cannot be accounted for by a person's genes. Science admits that genes only offer a sense of potential, not a blueprint of predestination. Wherefore, therefore, this disparity; the shocking injustice of birth and circumstance?

If God is the cause, well, "the hell with him!" Could we be the cause? But how? Where's the beef? (the proof, in other words).

There are many things in life -- important things -- whose cause and origins remain a mystery to us. Science has revealed a great many things about the material world, large and small, but seems impotent to reveal the things of life that matter the most to us: health, love, birth, death and so on.

I'm reading a book right now: it's called "Why Does the World Exist?" (by Jim Holt) When I "googled" this as a question I got 118,000,000 "hits." The efforts by scientists and philosophers to answer this question seem ludicrous to me (as a Vedantin), but it's obvious the question of our existence is far from ludicrous to the deepest thinkers of humanity down through the ages. Like most of humanity who seeks happiness through the fleeting pleasures of the senses or the ego-affirming victories of wealth, status, or power, it may well be that philosophers and scientists are asking the wrong question and/or looking for the answer in the wrong places. Fortunately for you, I won't attempt to weigh in on this subject.

But what I want to suggest is that, in general, a thoughtful person ought to be, at very least, agnostic: which is to say, willing to say, "I don't know, but I am open to the truth, whatever it is and whatever its source." The truth and source could be fundamentalist, orthodox, or entirely nonconformist. What I have observed in the heated dialogues among scientists, religionists and philosophers is, well, just that: heated dialogue. That alone tells me that some are not being objective while others are being dogmatic.

In Chapter 35 of the now famous book, "Autobiography of a Yogi," in the beginning paragraphs of Chapter 35, The Christlike Life of Lahiri Mahasaya, you will find a succinct but extraordinary proof that Jesus, in the New Testament, acknowledges the teaching of reincarnation and you will discover a cogent and persuasive revelation of the name of Jesus' guru. Visit http://www.ananda.org/autobiography/#chap35

In a charming recorded talk by Paramhansa Yogananda (author of "Autobiography" cited above) entitled "One Life versus Reincarnation," he presents arguments for both sides: that we live only one life, and, that we live many lives. (You can listen to a five minute clip here: http://www.yogananda-srf.org/listentopy/Listen_to_Paramahansa_Yogananda.aspx#.VHFWz9LF-So )

Fact is, however, we DON'T remember past incarnations. Fact is: we cannot know the future. Fact is: we only have the present to live. Not for the present, but in the present. Through mindfulness of our attitudes and actions, and especially by the power of daily meditation, we can know the consequences (though not the details) of our past actions ("karma") and we can learn how to improve ourselves thereby. That's all that matters.

It has been said, no doubt well and truly, that if we COULD remember past lives we would be horribly burdened. People tend to dwell on their mistakes and few claim their victories. Our lack of memory gives to us a fresh start with each life. Yogananda was once presented an infant to hold. He said he almost dropped the kid because he "saw" the consciousness of a murderer residing in that sweet, little body!

It is here and now that we exist. "Now" is the alpha and omega of our conscious actions. Past and future lay hidden behind a veil. The ability to know our past lives arises, we are told by Patanjali, author of the "Yoga Sutras," to the degree we become unidentified with our present life (body and personality). Only in the expanded and free consciousness of nonattachment can we bear the burden of the past and with that power we can free ourselves from its chains and our identification with it.

While the doctrine of reincarnation and its corollary, the law of karma, can help comfort us and help us accept the disparities of life's manifold destinies, it remains for us but speculative philosophy, albeit the best there is on the market of human understanding. There are those, however, who can see, or even catch glimpses, of the subtle threads of karma which intrude upon the present. For us, too, this will come if we make the right effort now to expand our consciousness from its identification with the little self, its tiny and temporary flesh-cage, and its strutting ego upon the brief stage of life.

Look, perhaps, instead at the patterns of life: yours, and others. You see how we repeat and repeat our mistakes, our successes, our habits and thoughts. One generation abuses the next, and the next abuses the next. Sooner or later someone down the line rebels and breaks the chain of karma through heroic struggle and, I might add, grace from a higher Power. We see repetition also in nature and all around. Repetition also fosters change, growth and evolution. Reincarnation is more like a spiral staircase: going up, or, in some cases, going down.....all according to the law of cause and effect (karma).

Every day can be a new life. Every night our miseries are dismissed from our mind. Reincarnation is all around us. Take it where we find it and probe its secrets. The secret is, simply, to "wake-up." Patanjali says the path to enlightenment is the result of smriti, memory: recollectedness (mindfulness).

The repeating patterns of thought and behavior can be broken by watching, observing, feeling and intuiting their goodness or their harm. Forget the "Thou shalt not...." and substitute "Awareness precedes change." This should be our guide, looking neither left nor right but straight ahead. If what we find no longer serves our true happiness, then we can resolve, in concert with a higher Power (God, Christ, guru) to change it.

If you're still not sure, then rent "Groundhog Day." It will at least be entertaining. Yogananda said God made this world for our entertainment. We must not be caught up in the drama, for it is only a play; a dream of God. Remember: "the good guy gets the girl and the bad guy goes to jail!" So be a good guy and play your role with attention to the script and following the cues of the Director. Someday your movie career will end in an Oscar of bliss-applause presented to you by Divine Mother (the "girl")!

Joy to you, joy to you, joy to you!

Swami Hrimananda!

What is the best meditation technique? What is Kriya Yoga?

What is the best meditation technique? Can a device with sound or images or other electronic stimulation really deepen your meditation? Should I use a pre-recorded, guided meditation aid? Are all the techniques which use the term "kriya" the same? There are so many mantras and pranayams and gurus, where does one even begin?

The short answer ("All roads lead to Rome") has some validity and is a tempting rejoinder and end to all these questions, but . . . . the "real answer" is both subjective (personal) and objective (demonstrable).

A proper response also requires an understanding of the purpose of meditation, whether, too, from the one's personal motivation or from the tradition and history of meditation itself. But I have addressed the question of "What is Meditation" in other articles on this site. For my purposes, I will assume that our shared understanding of the purpose of meditation is primarily a spiritual one.

"What works best for you" is a fair yardstick although be forewarned that you risk "the blind leading the blind and both falling in a ditch" of ignorance. It's like practicing hatha (physical) yoga because it's a good body workout experience: just because everybody does it, it still misses the true purpose of yoga by a "country mile."

Let's start with the personal: the meditation technique that is right for you has to work for you; it has to appeal to you: enough in the beginning to be attracted to it, and enough in the end to stick with it. This is not the same thing as saying your technique is effortless, easy, and blissful. Think of marriage (or a meaningful profession or career) as a comparison.

Notwithstanding the internet, CD's, DVD's and old-fashioned books, it is also worth noting that no effective (and long-term) meditation technique is divorced from its source: the teacher (or tradition). Partly it's a matter of your own confidence and faith in that technique. If John Smith down the street writes a book on meditation, it might strike your curiosity but I doubt it's going to change your life through daily, deep practice. Both the message and messenger are equally important. Meditation is personal: never forget that!

Not only, therefore, must the technique appeal to you and work sustain-ably for you but you must feel a connection, confidence, inspiration and/or faith in the teacher and/or tradition from which your chosen technique has come. I will stop short of talking about gurus and a disciple-guru relationship. I have written of that in other articles on this site.

There is one further point on the question of personal: the teachings and philosophy that surrounds your technique and teacher. Meditation, viewed in the vacuum of this article discussing technique (as such), might seem disconnected from the need for philosophy, theology, or teaching. Indeed, many meditation teachers say just that: you can be an atheist and practice meditation. Fine: who would argue with that! (I've said it myself!) But that, too, is a philosophy and a teaching. And maybe that really inspires you!

Thus some meditators practice under the auspices of one of the many Buddhist traditions; or Indian traditions; or Christian monastic traditions, or Sufi, Taoist, or Shinto and so on.

So, on a personal level, and as my own teacher, Swami Kriyananda put it in a talk he gave: we need to find the "right teacher, right teaching and right technique" for US and OUR spiritual evolution. All three (like Father, Son and Holy Ghost) are integral components of a successful (i.e. life changing) meditation practice.

Now, let's move on to the "objective" aspects of techniques. Almost any sincere and intelligent effort to meditate will produce positive results. That being said, we enter into the science of meditation. Keeping this article to a reasonable length, let us simplistically say that a successful technique or sitting in meditation experience will yield a mind that is focused and free from random thoughts; a body that is perfectly still (being relaxed but alert); and a "heart" or "mind" that experiences an expansion of consciousness and/or deep satisfaction in the form of inner peace (joy, love, etc.). Let's just leave it at that for now, ok?

The science of meditation teaches us that there is an intimate connection between our mind and body through the medium of breath. Our breath (in its various and measurable attributes of inhalation and exhalation) reflects our state of mind. Our state of mind affects our breath. This relationship is the bedrock of meditation.

The mind, however, can be influenced by conscious and intentional body movements (think yoga, martial arts), by mental concentration (mantra, visualization and affirmation), and by inspiration (chanting, prayer, and devotional images). Each of these, relative to breath, are still somewhat "outside" ourselves. They are effective when employed intelligently, consistently, and as guided intuitively. But the ultimate tool and the source (both) is the mind which in its purest form transcends any specific mental image or physical form. The breath has more directly than any of these other techniques a psycho-physiological impact upon the mind.

I am not saying that breath techniques are BETTER than mantra or devotion, for example. Rather, I am saying that the breath, relatively uncolored and free from the image-making faculties of the mind (which, in the end are abandoned in the higher states of meditation), works directly upon the mind. In the Yoga Sutras by Patanjali, the core sutra states that oneness is achieved when the mind transcends creating and reacting to stimuli (mental or otherwise): Stanza 2: "Yogas chitta vritti nirodha."

That fact doesn't invalidate the wide range of meditation techniques. St. Teresa of Avila discovered from direct experience how to go from formulaic prayer to silent, inner prayer and finally beyond all mentation into ecstatic, breathless states of divine communion. She was known to levitate and even bi-locate.

Nonetheless, the discovery of the mind-breath-body connection IS the science of meditation. It is HOW the mind rediscovers the transcendent state of pure consciousness even while in a body. Thus it is that breath techniques (aka "pranayama") abound and are very often at least part of the most effective and popular meditation techniques that are taught and practiced today.

I practice the popular Kriya Yoga technique as taught by Paramhansa Yogananda and his lineage (Babaji, Lahiri Mahasaya, and Swami Sri Yukteswar). It has been made known principally through his famous story, "Autobiography of a Yogi." Chapter 26 of that book ("Kriya Yoga") can be read for free online: http://www.ananda.org/free-inspiration/books/autobiography-of-a-yogi/.

While most of the popularly used pranayams focus on the breath, diaphragm, and lungs, Kriya Yoga focuses on the internal, subtle breath whose movements, yogis tell us, cause the physical breath. These currents of energy (known as "prana") revolve up and down in the subtle (or "astral") body which inhabits (creates, sustains, and, at death, leaves) the physical body. The intelligent vital Life Force of prana flows out to the physical body through doorways known as "chakras." Kriya Yoga organically and gradually teaches one how to control this life force so as to consciously coax it inward and away from its captivity in the organs and tissues of the physical body so its power and intelligence (which is divine) can reunite with its commander-in-chief, the Soul, residing in the higher(est) chakras in and around the head. This goal is the state of yoga: union with the Soul and then, eventually, with the Infinite Oversoul which is God.

Each conscious rotation of the prana in the astral body through the chakras is equivalent to living one full solar year in perfect harmony with the body, with the world and with the soul. Excluding the seventh chakra, the soul, the remaining six chakras becomes twelve by the polarity of the movement of prana up and down and through these chakras (producing, in turn, in each rotation, one breath cycle of inhalation and exhalation). These twelve constitute the true inner astrological constellations under which our karma (past actions) reside and which must be untied and released so their energy may seek soul-union above in the seventh chakra.

In this manner, Yogananda taught that the practice of Kriya Yoga is the "airplane route" to God because it accelerates our spiritual evolution by resolving karmic patterns without having to wait many lifetimes to work out each and every desire and make good each and every debt.

Kriya Yoga is not only a technique: it is a spiritual path. It therefore uses devotion, chanting, affirmation, mantra and good works, right attitude....in short all the tools of the spiritual "trade" that one sees universally employed. By adding this direct perception and control of our inner, soul anatomy, we have a meditation technique suited to our cultural inclination toward science (and away from sectarianism).

I will not conclude by saying "Kriya Yoga is the BEST technique" but it is a great gift to the world for those who feel drawn to it and inspired by its preceptors and precepts.

Blessings to you,

Nayaswami Hriman

Kriya Yoga and World Evolution & Revolution!

Since the dawn of the scientific and industrial era on this planet, orthodox religion has been in retreat, defeated at every encounter, by reason and its applied powers of experimentation, proof, and practicality. No matter that our reason can also be ruthless and used for exploitation, violence, and destruction. The potential for reason to show the futility of negative or harmful behavior is touted as sufficient -- no other-worldly God, needed, thank you very much!

Humanity is in a race against time and the inadequacies of reason. The godless scientific attitudes of survival of the fittest, the clash of the classes, materialism, win-at-all-costs politics and power, ruthless competition, and the sacred cows of entitlement and self-interest are rushing us like lemmings to our mutual destruction over the cliff of “what’s in it for me?”

Sorry to have to tell you, atheists and scoffing humanists: reason alone is inadequate to the task of seeing the golden rule applied universally among nations and peoples. Put more bluntly: it ain’t gonna happen. What our reasoning minds have yet to admit or even see is that greed, violence, poverty, and abuse (inter alia evils) are powers or levels of consciousness that, while appearing in individual humans and their actions, are greater than any single individual. We are influenced by our family, our culture, and, more importantly (since individual actions often cannot be traced to these environmental or even genetic influences), by subtle influences which can only generally described as “radio stations” of varying types of consciousness enabling prenatal tendencies (from past lives). Why, e.g., might a child raised in a “good home,” turn to a criminal lifestyle? Why do substance addictions or pornography or human trafficking persist (or even grow) in the face of so-called “modern education?”

I will admit together with those who are also “spiritual but not religious” that orthodox religion deserves its fate of declining adherents. But like all institutions of influence it is struggling mightily to keep its place. I read of one church that serves beer as a focal point of interest to attract its congregation!

The body, mind and spirit-numbing and harmful effects of industrialization and now globalization (though not without their benefits) have prompted sensitive souls throughout the world to cry out for inspiration and true spiritual upliftment. As a young Catholic boy studying the life of Jesus and the saints, I recall bemoaning what seemed to be the absence of saints and sanctity in a world that has placed even rainbows in the catalog of ordinary things explained analytically.

Scriptures and saints of east and west have always attested to the role of God, through human  instruments, to intervene in human and planetary history. In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna promises to appear “whenever virtue declines and vice predominates.” The Christian Bible, both Old and New Testaments, are nothing less than a story of the “Word made flesh and dwelt amongst us.”

In response to this call of aspiring hearts, there took place in a cave in the Himalayan foothills in 1861, a meeting between renowned but secretive yoga master -- the peerless and now famous “Babaji” -- and a humble accountant from Benares who was initiated into a powerful and central meditation technique to which was given the generic name, “Kriya Yoga.” Babaji told this married-with-children householder, Shyama Charan Lahiri, that this technique would spread throughout all lands and would aid in establishing world peace based upon direct perception of one’s indwelling divinity and kinship with God and God-in-all.

The spread of kriya yoga is now a historical fact. Its use grows exponentially throughout the world. First brought to America and the West by the renowned yogi, Paramhansa Yogananda, author of the popular “Autobiography of a Yogi,” kriya yoga is spreading through not only Yogananda and his disciples but through many branches of teachers related in various ways to Babaji and Lahiri Mahasaya. (Not all techniques labelled “kriya” are the same, however. Best to do one’s homework in this regard. The internet, travel and communication have their downside, too,of course.)

Kriya Yoga expresses the spiritual science which is the corollary to the material sciences. As the natural sciences reveal a vast outer universe, so the yoga science reveals the far vaster inner world of consciousness: the source of all created things. As materialistic scientific “progress” brings comforts and knowledge, so meditation brings inner peace and wisdom. As control of nature can yield material wealth, so control of the mind yields happiness free of outer circumstances. As our planet searches desperately for clean, cheap, and abundant energy sources, so Kriya Yoga puts the yogi in touch with cosmic energy: the source of life, creativity, health and divinity.

As Yogananda put it, it is time in the history of humanity for the best of East and West to be united in the common and divine purpose of uplifting humanity in material and spiritual realms. Harmony of earth and heaven and spirit and nature is needed for the survival and sustainability of humanity and all life on earth.

As 19th and 20th century material “progress” shouted down the “old time religions” with promises of unending prosperity, health, security and pleasure, and as science proclaimed the insignificance of human life in the face of the scientific facts and the inviolate rule of the law of survival as the mechanism of life itself, tens of millions suffered or perished in the struggles between socialism, communism, and capitalism. But as science purported to show our insignificance in the face of a vast cosmos and of epochs of geologic time, so meditation reveals the vastness of human consciousness which is “center everywhere, circumference nowhere.” (Autobiography of a Yogi) Our significance is not as an ego with a human body that is tiny and lasts only a brief time, but as a spark of Infinite consciousness out of which this vast universe has come.

Yogananda predicted many challenges for humanity before his death in 1952. Though he didn’t specifically use terms like global warming, he saw the materialistic and exploitative trends of modern society, big business, war-enriched industries, and global power. He foresaw an economic depression on scale far exceeding the 1930’s during which the dollar would become all but worthless. He saw many wars to come and the appearance of what he called international criminals (and we call terrorists). After much worldwide suffering, he said humanity would experience two hundred years of peace--so sick of warfare would we become.

The pace of consumption of natural resources on this planet is unsustainable. The lifestyles of countries whose relative wealth and comfort was leveraged by cheap and plentiful energy resources (both natural and human) at the expense of other nations is doomed. Wealth creation by fiat money without regard to any measure of value or useful productivity cannot last. Many governments, national and local, around the world are de facto bankrupt. So-called democracies are being strangled by their dependency on constituents who demand their entitlements in return for their vote without regard for the fiscal consequences, the greater good or their own civic and personal responsibilities. Increasingly it would appear that multi-national corporations, including makers of weapons of vast destruction, hold the reins of apparent power.

There is, however, a rising tsunami of shifting consciousness that is forming to fight these crushing global forces. We lovers of peace are not yet strong and haven’t learned the necessity of personal sacrifice as modelled to us by Gandhi and M.L. King, but our time is coming to enable the worldwide revolution that is needed and is coming. We are not interested in simply replacing ourselves in positions of power (political, economic, or religious). We are forming networks of sustainable communities (of all types) that emphasize the importance of individual creativity and initiative, and our essential unity as children of God. We are the hope for a better world. But we, too, must pass through the “valley of the shadow of death,” meaning personal commitment and self-sacrifice. Meditation, however, including kriya yoga, is at the heart of our revolution. This not another “ ism “ but a shift in consciousness based not on mere belief but actual, individual experience and Self-realization.  Yogananda predicted that in the centuries ahead the concept of “Self-realization” (the necessity of personal, direct, intuitive perception of divinity) would be accepted by religionists of every stripe. This is seen already in what is now accepted as a growing tide of “spiritual but not religious.”

There are practical ways to prepare for challenging circumstances but that is another subject altogether. The greatest protection, however, lies within you, and meditation is the key. Learn to meditate; check out kriya yoga; find others who share your ideals and practices; move out of cities if you can, especially with others; grow your own food; live simply; be prepared for difficult times; don’t depend on the government!

Meditation is for everyone, regardless of belief or religious affiliation. With meditation one readily comprehends his unity with all life and with Giver of life. No special distinctive creed or ritual is needed. Chapter 26 of Yogananda’s autobiography describes kriya well (read online for free at www.CrystalClarity.com). It is the science of how higher consciousness is developed, experienced, and nurtured in the holy temple of the human body and consciousness. It is the science of “finding happiness.” (A movie of this title has just been released: the story of Ananda and finding happiness within. (http://findinghappinessmovie.com/)

Joy is our “gun!” Stand tall and smile wide! Rejoice, for “We are Won!”

Swami Hrimananda

India Pilgrimage - the Final Episode!

It seems right to me now to skip ahead to the final adventure on our three week trip to India: Babaji's cave (near the hill station town of Ranikhet). Yes, it's true I skip the Taj Mahal and our visit to the lovely Ananda Center in Gurgaon (a few miles south of Delhi). But all good things must end and so, too, this travelogue.

After visiting the Ananda Center in Gurgaon on Sunday, March 17 (in the afternoon and evening), we bussed to the old train station in Delhi for an overnight train to the line's end at the foot of the Himalayas--a town called Kathgodam. The Old Delhi station was a museum piece, a small version of the old Howrah Station in Calcutta, but much messier in what I saw, with lots of people sleeping on the floor everywhere and a narrow warren of steps and overhead passageways with descending stairs onto each train platform across a large and enclosed rail yard. Very old fashion, very NOT tidy, and very old. One felt claustrophobic and slightly ill at ease, safety wise. The response was to "puff up" as it were and look snappy and snippy like a seasoned traveller. I kept a close watch, as did my friend, Bimal, on those few pilgrims with wanderlust.

We scurried through these ancient corridors like rats, resembling a new form of rat (of Western origin) but otherwise pressing forward or against a sea of rats just like us: going to and from trains, or servicing trains (porters, e.g.). After some confusion about our track number, we found our train and hustled aboard a faded blue, decades old set of cars. Ten of us, out of the some thirty, were arbitrarily assigned by the railway online service to First Class cars: a euphemism, merely, they were hardly "first class." Each compartment had 4 berths so I and one other pilgrim, Patricia, got the other eight seated and we took a compartment that had two others (men) in it. The bunks were positioned so the head or feet faced crossways to the direction of travel. The compartment door closed to the hallway but otherwise the bunks were open one to the other.

A man, attempting already to sleep, did not want us to turn the lights on. We had to position our belongings, make our beds, and prepare for sleep in very dim light. I was not feeling well, having a cold and sore throat. I meditated a while but, though lying down, slept not at all through the night. The train would stop for a few minutes and then move on.

Before dawn, we arrived at Kathgodam. The morning air was slightly chilly. We disembarked groggy and perhaps a little grumpy, all of us. We stumbled in the darkness toward the station and out into the parking lot. Fortunately, our guide, Mahavir, and the two buses were waiting. In a few minutes drive, by pre-arrangement, a local hotel welcomed us into their breakfast room where we could use the toilet, have some tea, and biscuits.

Then off we went into the dawn, quickly rising up the foothills on a twisting and turning two-lane (paved) road. Already the air here was clearer and cleaner. The refreshment of woods and mountains poured down from high above like a healing breeze. We dozed and then would gaze at the increasingly beautiful scenery that unfolded in the morning light as we went up and up and up.......at turns we could see a hint of the vast Indian subcontinent plains stretching south into an invisible distance hidden by a slightly brown layer of dust and smoke clouds as far as the eye could see.

After some time, perhaps an hour or more, we arrived at a delightfully scenic village on a pond (well, ok they called it a lake). Our buses negotiated the village lanes in a cumbersome, elephantine gait and deposited us a few steps from a hillside ashram belonging to the silent woman saint, Mauni Ma, a direct disciple of Neem Karoli Baba (guru to the famous Baba Haridas). It is a lovely place, clean and quite large, freshly painted. We were still befuddled with sleeplessness. Murali guided us in energization exercises and stretching exercises to help throw off the sleep and I did a guided meditation sadhana lest too much silence produce the sacred hong snore mantra.

Mauni Ma's son addressed us afterwards in the sadhana room and then invited us down into the courtyard for tea and prasad. (We met her, in silence of course, on our way back to Kathgodam before boarding the night train back to Delhi. On that train ride, I slept like a newborn, thus redeeming my less than felicitous prior experience.)

We didn't stay long as we then began a longish but most delightful hike around the village and its lake to a resort hotel on the far side where we had a wonderful breakfast inside and out on the patio. We enjoyed and prolonged our stay as much as we could as it was healing balm visually and in all ways from the intensity of the last many days in the crowded and polluted cities and the heat of the northern plains.

At last we had to board our buses for the long ride up and up the mountains toward Ranikhet. The scenery was stunning but most of us soon tired of the turns and twists and unending mountain roads in these buses which seemed out of place on the narrow and steep roads. We chanted and sang; rested and watched; chatted and read.

Half way up we stopped at an ashram of Neem Karoli Baba. It is extremely clean and beautiful, at the edge of a happy and flowing river in a wooded canyon of sorts. We meditated there for quite some time; had tea at the tea stalls and generally were refreshed and prepared for the next many hours. As we rose in the mountains the sun beat more directly upon the mountain sides and our buses. The last part was mentally and physically challenging for most of us.

At last we reached the hill station along a high ridge facing north. Between the trees I eager looked for glimpses of the Himalayan peaks, still some one hundred miles or so north of us. Soon I was rewarded, even in the fading light of the day. Soon all were pressed to the glass oohhing and aaaahing at every turn as new peaks appeared and brightened our faces and warmed our hearts. We were, though tired, thrilled, for few, if any had ever seen the majestic sacred Himalayan range except in photos.

The Woodsvilla Resort was several miles past Ranikhet, driving along the ridgeline going east. It seemed the bus drive would never end! But at last we arrived and were warmly welcomed by the hotel staff and assisted down the long flight of stone steps into the lobby and soon thereafter to our rooms and into the dining room for dinner. We all retired early to await the big day of going to Babaji's cave on nearby Dronagiri Mountain.

The next day I arose long before sunrise. I could not wait to see the morning light streak across the face of the Himalayan magistrates. I laugh at myself because in my eagerness to watch the drama of light on such a panorama, I decided that surely my guru wouldn't mind if, just this morning, I meditated with my eyes open!

So, I sat on the cushioned window seat facing the Himalayan range and waited as I meditated. Slowly light began to fill the sky. The faces of of the eternal-snow rishis went from darkened silhouette to a clear outline and then a full face. At last, streaks of light shot forth from the east (to my right) and hit the snow-clad mountains full on. Their faces burned with light and came to life before my eyes. The morning dawned cloudless and clear. The sky gradually but quickly turned from inky darkness and star-lit to brilliant blue. It was a thrilling experience; one I will never forget.

This day, then, we are to travel to Babaji's cave. I won't take the "real estate" to describe the wonderful story of Lahiri Mahasaya, age 33, in the year 1861, being transferred mysteriously to Ranikhet and, while out wandering the hills, being called to meet the peerless and deathless guru, Babaji, and being initiated into Kriya Yoga in a cave on Dronagiri Mountain.  I refer you , instead, to Chapter 34 - Materializing a Palace in the Himalaya in Yogananda's famous Autobiography of a Yogi. It is to this cave, reputed to be the very cave, where we are to go today.

It took several hours to get there by our bus. The windy road led down the other side of the mountain, traveling north from the hill station of Ranikhet and along a beautiful, green-carpeted and terraced river valley with quaint villages and picturesque scenes. Then, up the other side along the flanks of Drongiri, not far from the town of Dwarahat. Our drivers took a "short-cut" to avoid going through Dwarahat. I was looking forward to the town because my daughter Gita and I had stayed there two nights on our first visit here less than two years ago. Not knowing this I became confused because as our vehicles rose higher and higher, it seemed to me that I recognized my surroundings as being Drongiri Mountain, yet we hadn't gone through the town! (Later the route we had taken was explained to me.) While very close to our destination, we stopped to take a group photo with the backdrop of several Himalayan Peaks cast against Drongiri Mountain. It was absolutely stunning. All we could do was joke and cajole but inside I think we all felt we had died and gone to heaven but, having just arrived, we weren't sure quite how to behave!

Within minutes, then, we had reached the trailhead to Babaji's cave. Increasingly throughout the world, this remote pilgrimage spot is becoming known. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunagiri ). There's a tea stall and very rustic "hotel" there. We got our provisions readied, did a brief prayer, and began our walk. It starts along a jeep track that follows the curve of the mountain. The sun was hot because now midday, so many of us covered up. The altitude is about 8,000 feet and you feel it when you leave the jeep track and begin trekking more seriously up the side of the mountain.

For me in both visits there I experience the mountain as having a soft light, a mellow light "around the edges." It feels mystical. If that is mere sentiment, then so-be-it. The large rhododendron trees had flaming red flowers on them and on the ground beneath them. The pine trees are dwarf-like, and somewhat spindly and miniature, adding to a fairy-like feeling that someone is watching or the landscape is alive and conscious. You can't see the cave from below.

The trail, once leaving the jeep track, is steep but basically in excellent shape. Signs display the fact that Yogoda Satsangha Society (YSS) owns the property. One crosses what is supposed to be the Gogash River (see Chapter 34) but in March it was sadly dry. It is a shadow of its former self. Lahiri Mahasaya said that Babaji had him lie down at the river's edge after taking some kind of cleansing herbs or drink. He spent the better part of the night there before being summoned back up to the cave.

Just below the cave, YSS has constructed a fence-enclosed outbuilding. I suppose it has supplies in it but it is locked. It makes for a good staging area and picnic area for the final ascent up the trail to the cave itself.

The cave is small. On the inside, it was walled off by YSS to protect the deeper reaches of the cave. I do not know why. The cave itself is locked with an iron gate. We were fortunate however to be allowed in and we took turns meditating there. Many also meditated just outside the cave and on the ledges and hillside surrounding the cave. For breaks one would descend the trail back to the staging area for a snack and a rest.

The hill is pocked with caves and legend has it that not far away there is (are) a cave(s) where centuries ago the Pandavas sought shelter. According to the internet link shown above, the region is spiritually charged.

In meditating there, one should not expect great inner experiences. Should this occur, well, of course that is wonderful. Safe it is, rather, to be still and pray to receive the blessings and grace of the Mahavatar Babaji and the other great rishis (starting with Lahiri Mahasay) upon one's life.

I came away with a deeper appreciation for the truth that in this sore-pressed world come such great souls to show us the way out of delusion and into inner freedom. More than that I came away with a greater appreciation that without the grace of God incarnating in human form through the avatara (divine descent into the human forms by Self-realized souls), we can never find our way out of the labyrinth of suffering and unhappiness. All the great moments and trends of history, politics, religion, science and the arts pale by comparison with the significance of the avatara. Though human history largely ignores them and human beings are indifferent or worse, it remains, in my view and that of devotees and saints everywhere, the most significant fact of human history and our soul's greatest blessing and opportunity.

The rest of our journey was essentially the journey back home to Seattle. Most of it warrants no special description. We were weary and many bore the marks of travel fatigue and illness, but our hearts and souls were cleansed and refreshed. I hope and pray to God that each of my fellow pilgrims retain some permanent beatitude, some light, that can guide the next steps of their spiritual journey towards soul freedom.

With gratitude and devotion, I bow at the lotus-feet of Babaji, of my guru Paramhansa Yogananda, their lineage and to all saints and sages in every time and clime who have walked the path to God-realization and, in so doing, have lit the path for others to follow.

Thank you, dear friends and readers, for coming on this journey with us.

May the light of the Masters shine upon you,

Nayaswami Hriman

Visit to Varanasi : experience in timeless intensity

So, dear friends, we return now to this series describing our recent trip to India. (This blog is somewhat tongue-in-cheek, so be forewarned.)

We left off leaving the Ananda Community in Pune to return to Delhi where the Southgate Hotel (near the south Delhi Ananda Center) is our hub. The ashram would store our larger luggage piece as we went out on shorter trips to various places. So now we returned after a ten-day jaunt that included Puri, Kolkata and Pune to re-group, re-pack our travel cases, store any gifts we had purchased, have laundry done and so on. That was Monday, March 11.

Tuesday morning, March 12, we returned to the Delhi airport (domestic terminal) for our flight to Varanasi. The flight was on time and happily uneventful. Varanasi airport was modern and clean and offered nothing worth mentioning. Out in the parking lot in front we readily found our three small vans who were ready and waiting for us. (We need smaller transportation because the streets of Varanasi are generally very narrow. Now mind, you, I am referring to streets where cars move around. The real "streets" of "old" Varanasi are but narrow lanes where one or two persons can sometimes walk side-by-side, or where a pedestrian is  pushed aside by a motorcycle noisily wending its way through, its sound threateningly amplified by the buildings which rise straight up.)

The day was hot and humid and deceptively quiet at first. Almost unnoticed, the road from airport blended into the city precincts and soon the streets began to twist and turn. With each block it got more jammed and crowded. Progress toward the riverbank slowed to a crawl. Our van's air conditioner pooped out and we had to open windows to let in the intense noise (shouting, honking, braying, blaring, etc.) and a steady flow of dust, dirt, and Lord knows what else. I can't speak for the other vans, but by the time our van, one of three, reached the Ganges Palace Hotel we, its occupants, were over-heated, drenched by perspiration in our own clothes, and exhausted just mentally fending off the sensory assaults (trying not to breathe deeply and hold the mind inward and steady) while bouncing and jerking in our seats as the van tumbled through the streets.

We literally fell out of our vans, snatched our luggage, fought our way through the local beggars (presumably assigned to our hotel entrance by the local union) only to trudge up a steep flight of stairs to the one desk, one person lobby. 35 people and luggage soon overfilled the adjacent hallway. Rooms weren't ready yet (it was still early afternoon). People were tired and frazzled and the hallways were superheated.

Fortunately, arrangements had been made to serve us lunch upon our arrival, so after a spell of confusion which included sitting and waiting, we were ushered downstairs where it was even hotter and more stuffy. A solitary air conditioning unit in the wall offered half-hearted puffs of tepid air as if in lackluster devotion to some uncool, but relatively minor, Hindu god.

All told, it was not an auspicious beginning. Clearly Varanasi, as we were forewarned, was going to be a challenging adventure. (The spiritual name for Benares is Kashi--see prior blog post.) Whether your sins are forgiven by bathing in the Ganges or you receive other blessings, there's always a price to pay, you see. In the case of bathing in the Ganges, the price may be your life, at least if you are a foreigner, for what you can't see might kill you. Oh, did I mention: don't drink from the Ganges?

The view of the Ganges from our room, was, however, quite lovely. In early March, when there's not been substantial rainfall since the summer-fall monsoon season, the opposite bank turns into a gigantic sand bar. Still, the river is slow and wide at least this time of year. No buildings or city is visible on the opposite bank or even beyond. The river circles the city in such a manner that it is flowing northward as it flows through and past Varanasi. The symbolism is obvious to a yogi: the northward flowing current of energy in the spine flows toward the highest chakra(s) in its journey toward "moksha," liberation (enlightenment). The Ganges, among other things, symbolizes the river of grace and energy that leads to salvation. Hence the symbolism of bathing in the Ganges to cleanse one's "sins."

Mid-afternoon, we assembled to walk along the bathing ghats northward toward the center of town (but a relatively short distance) to visit and meditate at an ashram built by devotees of the woman saint, Ananda Moyi Ma. Ma didn't necessarily live anywhere specific for long periods of time but she certainly did stay there sometimes. It is a steep series of steps up from the river and into the ashram, but the ashram is clean and tidy, if austere. There, in front of a room filled with relics and artifacts of Ma's life, and an altar, we meditated in the mid-afternoon heat. Challenging to settle in, certainly, but well worth it. I won't attempt to recount Ma's life: Yogananda has an entire chapter on her in his autobiography. She's well known and was a remarkable person: a mixture of orthodox and unorthodox! Swami Kriyananda spent much time with her and was greatly touched by her kindness and spiritual power.

As the afternoon's heat broke, we boarded a hired boat to go downstream. The Ganges boats are very large rowboats, equipped in the center with a small engine in order to go upstream (as well as downstream). Going downstream they are steered and rowed relatively easily by one person, even when filled with over thirty people. We floated and rowed gently along the ghats, enjoying the incredible sight of the Varanasi (Kashi) skyline at the riverbanks. The ghats are entirely covered in cement and stone down into the water--so ancient is this city (the world's oldest continuously occupied city). The buildings along the shore rise vertically many stories high along the surrounding cliffs (no longer visible). Steep stairs, therefore, rise from the shore up to the land above, which, once climbed, is level as you enter the heart of the city beyond.

The visual effect is akin to seeing medieval castle walls lining the western bank for at least a mile or so. Some are very old and decrepit, others more up to date and maintained. Some colorful; others, drab. Antiquity and tradition stream outward from every rock and brick. Nonetheless, over centuries, the Ganges in flood has torn away many a riverside building or ghat, so the riverbank is forever re-inventing itself. No bridge exists here. One could be dimly seen a mile or two upstream. None of the buildings can be, themselves, all that old for the simple fact that man-made buildings of any kind, even stone, can only last so long before falling apart or otherwise becoming unfit for habitation. But even a merely medieval impact suggests an aura of timelessness and of fixed tradition.

The activities along the ghat, themselves, would seem to have been going on since time immemorial: bathing, worshipping, conducting rituals, plying one's various trades. Swamis, sadhus (including the famous "naga" or naked (literally, "sky-clad" sadhus) encamp along certain of the ghats in tents surrounded by smoke-filled smouldering fires used for cooking, washing, and conducting various rites and rituals. The haze and smoke that infest the place add to the surreal timelessness as do the clothing, dress, and activities of those assembled there in a never-ending parade of humanity.

We floated downstream to the largest and most famous burning ghat (there are actually several) ("Manikarnika") where it is said that a flame has been kept burning for five thousand years. You could see the flame inside a small building at the edge of the ghat. The flame is specifically used to light the wood-fueled funeral pyres that line the beach there, attended to by a special class (caste) of "morticians". Sometimes you can see an actual body in flames, but just as often only the wood pyre. Pictures are discouraged as a sign of respect but it seems this injunction is honored in the breach. Large pieces of timber are piled up for the non-stop, year-round functions of an outdoor crematorium. We never saw any dead bodies floating downstream and although that is not the correct disposition of the dead, it does in fact sometimes happen, whether for lack of funds or lack of care.

Eventually, we turned around, fired up the engine (which seemed as ancient as the ghats), and putt-putt'ed our way back to the main ghat ("Dasaswamedha") for the daily dusk "arati" ceremony. A hundred or more boats like ours filled the waterfront area just off the ghat, bobbing and butting one another, as tourists and pilgrims and their oarsmen jockeyed for position and assembled for the nightly "light show." Yes, it certainly was an entertainment: I believe 7 pujaris (priests) stood on a row of raised circular platforms lining the bank and like chorus girls (sorry for the image) conducted, in synchronization, a lengthy and elaborate ritual to the sound and beat of loud mantras and chants performed by a live mini-orchestra. It was entrancing and beautiful. The mantras have been chanted here for untold centuries and the effect was not lost upon us.

Boats bumped each others; hawkers of postcards and plastic religious items jumped from boat to boat hawking their wares with the annoying persistence appropriate to their trade no doubt since the dawn of time.

The priests used all sorts of ritual objects in their choreography but the most spectacular of them are these mini-Christmas tree shaped candelabra that they swung up and down and in all directions to the tune and beat of the chants. Incense, drums, bells, WOW.....beautiful to be sure. One vacillates between imagining you are in Los Vegas at a floor show and being in Kashi, mesmerized by the power of these mantras and rituals and transported into a timeless region of high vibration. And, sometimes one just pauses to look around, watching the people in the various boats and making silent observations of a more mundane type--you know, people who write blogs about things like this!

Still, one can hardly be indifferent to the spectacular and intense sights and sounds. Smoke fills the air everywhere here--which means one's eyes, nose, throat and lungs. Mosquitoes and moths have a feeding frenzy. One's individuality threatens to lose its tentative grip upon the body and is invited to merge into the haze of smoke, flashing lights, dark shadows, silhouetted forms, and pounding beat of mantric vibrations that fill and overtake every lesser reality. Though this may sound like a description of a rock concert and although the comparison is inevitable because so superficially similar, all comparisons end because the arati has at least the potential to lift you towards a transcendent state while the typical rock concert invites you hypnotically toward a gyrating, snakelike orgy of tribal subconsciousness.

Finally, and before it was completely ended lest a boat-jam take place, we motored back to our ghat, near to the hotel, and then ascended to the hotel rooftop for a dining buffet experience under the hazy stars. The air now was at least cool if not clear and it was a gentle and fitting end to a long day.

The ancient motor in the giant rowboat is housed in a wooden box at the center of the boat. There's no battery to start it. The "boy" opens a panel and inserts a heavy, steel crank; sets the spark and the mix; and cranks as hard as he can, jumping back lest it rip his arm off when it fires up! Though it sounds diesel-like, I think it uses petrol (gasoline). It might even be one cylinder and it sounds like it is wide diameter piston and long of neck cylinder: each oscillation is distinct and throaty. While going downriver with silent rowing, we could chant with our harmonium, there was no hope of chanting with the putt-putt thing happening. It was, if not deafening, anathema to any conversation except it the most intimate one-to-one shouting!

Early the next morning, about dawn, we walked back to Ma's ashram for meditation. Just as a few of us sat cross-legged on the marble floor (or upon our portable three-legged stools), two rows of young women marched up and sat behind us and began full-throttle mantras and chants, unaccompanied. It was lovely if a little disconcerting. We didn't know if it would go on for two hours; if we were supposed to move out of their way; whether we were intruding upon their ancient daily ritual, but finally they stopped and trooped away as soundlessly as they had appeared. We chanted a bit and then meditated.

The morning sun, rising across the eastern shore of the Ganges, was now beginning to heat the air. We stayed because invited one at a time to enter Ma's tiny, austere bedroom. Her bed was not quite made of nails, but it was simply a wooden, low-slung platform. Her tiny shoes were placed at the foot. We took turns entering and touching the shoes, pronaming and being in silence for a brief meditation.

Back then we went for hotel breakfast. By mid-morning the sun was awake and ready and beating fiercely. Once again we boarded our open rowboat to head back downstream to the main ghat. There we exited the boat and climbed steps into the labyrinth of alleyways, Kashi's heart, in order to find the shrine to Lahiri Mahasaya, created, I believe, by Shidendu Lahiri, great grandson of Lahiri (?). The boat ride was hot and therefore we were silent, most of us hiding from the blaze of the sun with whatever objects of cloth, sunglasses, hats we were perspicacious enough to have brought with us.

The walk into "town" and along the incredibly narrow (and filthy) lanes, being continually harassed by deep-throated motorcycles pushing their way through the narrow passageways, was an adventure to say the least. You could disappear into any number of alleys or doorways and never be heard from again. It's that easy.
You'd have to be a Houdini to know "who dunnit: the butler or the cook."

But find it we did. It was very clean and beautifully done. It included a side-shrine with a portion of Lahiri's ashes and a museum that included some books and items for sale. We stayed a good bit, left some donations, and had a nice meditation there.

Then out into the narrow and dark lanes we went again looking from the wooden front door to Lahiri's own house. Find it we did, but we could only gaze upon it or press our forehead against the door in prayerful obeisance to the guru who started it all in this tiny house in the heart of Kashi in 1861. The family who occupies the home doesn't welcome devotees though we were told that once a year in late September, around the time of Lahiri's mahasamadhi date, the door is open. But even in past years when Ananda devotees could go in, mostly all they could do was look. Even meditating was "forbidden." Such is maya.

I believe the preceptors of this path want no particular interest expressed in them as individuals and the mundane details of their personal biographies. I think they would prefer we emulate and assimilate God-consciousness into our daily lives through kriya yoga and with their inner guidance. End of lecture.

The day, however, was far from over. Some of us were on the hunt for some special gifts (see wedding below) and most still had enough verve to want to venture out even more. By special arrangements by our tour guide, Bijaya, we were to be given the opportunity to get close to the otherwise forbidden Vishnu Temple at the center of Kashi (Vishwanath Temple). The walk there was very long through narrow lanes that seemed to get narrower and narrower as we approached what was presumably the temple but the lanes are so narrow you can barely see your feet what to mention anything around you. Throngs of pilgrims, hawkers and shoppers pressed on all sides and in both directions. Keeping an eye on the placement of your feet was essential to avoid landing in holy cow shit, or worse, perhaps. The tiny stalls often were fascinating but the pushing crowd gave little opportunity for window shopping and the merchants within would have grabbed and kidnapped you for a private "showing" even if you did. Still it was all very intriguing if harrowing at the same time. The perfect tourist and pilgrim's "You wouldn't believe what we did" story.

Bijaya guided us to a tiny shop and we all pressed in, removing our shoes and backpacks there in the store for pre-arranged safekeeping (with the promise of "rich" American pilgrims shopping afterward, of course). Then out into the lane, shoeless, we went a short distance and then entered an even darker and more narrow alley guarded by men and women in army uniforms with machine guns and an X-ray machine. Women are always "handled" separately but I certainly was searched and patted down (and up) and then cleared.

Evidently, the Temple is adjacent to a mosque and there's been a centuries old festering wound around their relationship. A history not worth researching. But a year or so ago a bomb went off and hence security is rather tight. The tiny lane that we entered was one of several passageways into or at least toward the Temple. My understanding is that this entrance was especially for foreigners. We scooted along the alley, passing shops selling the various items that devotee Hindus typically bring as gifts to the deity. It was all very confusing but in the end all that happened to me was that I was told to walk up a few steps on a side alley so I could view the somewhat smallish but definitely beautiful and gold plated Temple dome. Yup: that was it.

Later I heard some people may have gotten a sneak peak into the temple inner sanctum through an ancient wooden door but in the hubbub I guess I missed an important cue or maybe I was suppose to miss it. Though it was all very dramatic and all very anti-climatic, I wouldn't have missed for anything! (I got to write this story, right?)

Well, the tension was broken and it was announced we were off (by pre-scouting pre-arrangement) to a nearby restaurant appropriate for the likes of us. We followed the lanes back in reverse order and gradually they widened and we reached something of a main thoroughfare where vehicles actually went. We eventually and magically happened upon an upstairs restaurant, somewhat large, where all of us managed to find tables and actually enjoyed a delicious and relaxing meal together. We took our time as we were fairly wrung out on all levels.

But, finished we were not. That magic hunting expedition for that special gift for that special someone hung over us like a black cloud, like a hangover on a sunny morning. (Well, ok, for those of us who couldn't find a gift if it were thrust at us, shopping in a strange, elusive, slightly forbidden place like Kashi is like searching for a "needle in a haystack of nettles." In short, daunting.)

Somehow our cultural attache, Murali Venkatrao, was up for the hunt and began to lead us down the main street of town. Soon he had outpaced us as the traffic began to snarl and massive lockdown took place. Some of us stood around and began dialing our cell phones in frustration and confusion. Eventually we all met up and to escape the lockdown (all cars, bullock carts, bicycles, pedestrians had been frozen by a coagulation of objects so complete as to leave everyone in shock and in paralysis). We found a side alley that headed in the direction of the river and made our escape--not having the scantiest idea where the labyrinth would lead this time. Murali had never been to Kashi before, either.

As God and guru and their grace would have it, after dodging innumerable cow pies, their former owners, and alleys that threatened to leave us blinded with dead-ended numbness, we actually found ourselves walking past Lahiri's front door! Ah! Revelation! We "knew" where we were. We would be safe!

In time, the shoppers found a cloth shop they announced was the real thing. Well, for me fatigue and confusion was the more real thing. I, and a bunch of others, were finished. We knew more or less the direction to the river and we could walk the ghat all the way to hotel. The afternoon sun would no longer be beating on the ghat and it could be pleasant enough. (Earlier, after lunch, my personal instinct had been to hire an auto rickshaw and hi-tail it back to our hotel, near the Assi Ghat. I was to kick myself later for not following my own travel instinct.)

Yes, the walk was pleasant enough but it was also rather long. As we walked (Gita, Badri and I, and many others, in a random, somewhat dazed, disorder), the smoke from small fires and the tent cities of the naga sadhus and others began increasingly to fill the still air. My eyes begun to water profusely. I couldn't see well; uncontrollable sneezing and dripping would force me to stop every minute or two using up my rapidly dwindling supply of paper tissues. I thought I'd never make it. I could hardly breathe.

Well, as you might have guessed, I did make it. But from this point to the rest of the trip and after home, I was blessed with a sinus cold and sore throat. It was light-duty, but omnipresent and a constant, if dull, damper upon my vitality and state of mind.

For the entire time of our stay in Kashi, Padma was bedridden. Bronchitis, asthma, and barrage of heavy-duty meds prescribed a few days earlier by a doctor called to the Delhi hotel room, had taken their toll. Late into the night after this long day, she was on the verge of calling a doctor (which would have probably meant, imagine the great story, being admitted into a Varanasi hospital--probably adjacent to the burning ghat, I was guessing). Well that horror show abated, in part because I wasn't going to permit it -- for I did sincerely feel that despite her multiple agonies, that she was in no great danger. I've had my share of travel troubles and you always think you are certain to die any minute, but, usually, you don't. There was enough drama going on amongst the pilgrims to want to shift the drama onto us on center stage. Not my usual schtick. "Boss say no." After this, and upon returning to Delhi, Padma dropped out of the journey to rest in Delhi. She returned home in better health than many of us. The story had a happy ending.

So, you think this story is over! Finished we are not!

Thursday, March 14, we arose well before dawn and met at the nearby ghat: chanting and/or energizing in the pre-dawn twilight. We boarded our boat and made our way downstream edging ever closer to the opposite (sand bar) bank. We chanted the Gayatri and Mahamitryajaya mantras as the sun rose, large and reddish. We docked opposite the river-skyline of Kashi and set up the simple accoutrements to conduct a previously arranged but secret wedding ceremony for Kelly and Mona Williams. Because Padma could not attend, my daughter Gita was my assistant. We conducted the entire Ananda wedding (sans most of the music) right there at the shore end of the large rowboat. The couple and myself faced the city of Varanasi standing in mute testimony to this tiny drama of human life as it has witnessed the birth, life, and death of countless millions down through the ages! Wow.....is all I can say. This morning was definitely a highlight of our Kashi experience. At the same time, it was intimate and, let's face it, personal! We had laughs; we had tears; it was joyful. A few feet away, locals, who seem to emerge from the invisible ether or from beneath the sands, gathered to watch the odd spectacle. (In India, you are never alone except, if you are lucky, in the squatter toilet, and then, only briefly, as it is likely that if you tarry, a persistent and impatient knocking sound commences.)

Then we motored downstream past the burning ghat and docked so we could walk up the steep stairs and find the ashram of a famous 19th century sadhu, contemporary of Lahiri Mahasaya, Trailanga Swami. (See Yogananda's autobiography for the details of this unusual Swami.) We had a good meditation there. It contains an enormous Shiva lingam, many photographs and an underground room where Trailanga left his body in the great samadhi of death.

We returned to hotel in time for breakfast, motoring quietly upstream past the main Kashi ghats, now coming alive in the morning sun with bathers and worshippers. We were tired but happy. Tired and inspired.

Mid-afternoon, we boarded our convoy of vans to visit Sarnath a few miles away: a beautiful collection of properties and shrines located where Lord Buddha, incarnation of Vishnu, gave his first "sermon" after his enlightenment. What a beautiful place; its serenity is a contrast with most Hindu shrines and temples; so, too, is its cleanliness. Not a few pilgrims wondered, at this point, whether they perhaps ought to have been Buddhists, instead! So, wonderful and refreshing (even the air was clean) was the experience. We meditated on the spacious lawns for about an hour (no locals or hawkers disturbed us) and visited several elaborate and beautiful shrines, including a brand new one with a thirty or forty foot high statue of the great Lord himself. It was all free, by the way.

As dusk quickly turned to inky black, we stopped at the Clark Hotel (on our way back to the Assi Ghat and our hotel) for a sumptuous banquet held and given to us by the newly married couple. They had made all the arrangements from America beforehand. The food is beyond the limits of my observational and descriptive powers but suffice to say, "it was really good." We had personal musicians who, it turned out, are part of the Benares School of Music and the Mishra family, some of whom have played at the Bothell Temple and are coming again this June to Seattle!

At the dinner, the happy couple displayed their newly made 9-stone wedding rings. The rings had been hand crafted the day before....at a shop just below our hotel by a man whose family for nine (?) generations have been jewelers in Kashi. One enormous mural behind the buffet tables showed an Indian couple where the groom has positioned the wedding ring ready to place onto his bride's finger. The happy couple stood in front, in the exact same position, as we chanted and blessed them and their very special rings.

Hours later, when we exited the Clark Hotel to jump in the vans we realized that the cooling but dark, water-laden thunderheads we had observed at Sarnath, had emptied their contents in a furious downpour that would no doubt have cleansed Kashi of so much of its dirt and dust! Thus we returned cool and clean, so to speak, to our hotel.

Friday, March 15, back to Delhi. Whew! Kashi: what an intense experience. In the prior blog I alluded to the spiritual significance and power of Kashi. That I won't repeat here but it was worth it, even though we returned to Delhi a bit travel weary and various degrees of unwellness. Overall, I think most of us are very glad we went, though, "Would you go again?" might have a mixed response.

Enough a-ready, finished we are. "Finnish" we are not. Fin-e.

Hriman