Monday, October 19, 2015

Ananda & SRF: Part 4 - Swami Kriyananda & Ananda

Part 4 – Swami Kriyananda & Ananda

Not only was Swamiji very young when he came to Master, but the guru was in his final and more withdrawn years of life. Swami himself was inspired by the expansive universality and power of these teachings. But on a personal level he stood, he often told us, in “awe” of his guru. The thought of any form of familiarity was unthinkable. (This did not, apparently, stop the young “Walter” from pestering his guru with many questions.)

Added to this, was the fact that Swamiji’s own dharma and inspiration was to share these teachings. Yogananda had no need, at least from Swamiji, for personal service; others held those roles. Yogananda, in turn, focused his training of the young monk, Walter, who later took the spiritual name, Swami Kriyananda, on the teachings themselves. Within months, the Master appointed Walter in charge of the other, older (and longer term) monks; he soon gave a kriya initiation; began teaching, editing, and writing. He wasn’t even 25 years old!

Thus we find, here also, a difference between SRF and Ananda. The one inclines to view Yogananda more personally with the teachings standing in the (now absent) guru’s stead (in the form of those impersonal, bi-weekly printed lessons); and the other, Ananda, inclined to emphasize the teachings as universal and as having personal and creative application in each person’s daily life. The first generation of SRF leaders seem to have established and accepted the fact that their guru was gone and what remained was for the organization to take on a caretaker role of sharing the teachings of the Master bereft of his magnetic and transforming presence.

The latter, Ananda, by contrast, was conceived and born after the guru was gone and with the mission to experiment and see how to apply those teachings to daily life. This was to be done through the dynamic and very personal vehicle of the “world brotherhood colonies” that Yogananda sowed “into the ether” by his “spoken word” at the garden party in Beverly Hills in 1949. The difference is understandable and not noticeably different in the beginning, but over time, like non-parallel lines, becomes widely divergent. SRF’s removal, after Yogananda’s passing, from the “Aims and Ideals” of SRF of the goal to establish and support world brotherhood colonies follows this distinction just as much as Ananda’s dedication to this ideal supports this divergence.

Yogananda’s many efforts to reach out past the monastic life — establishing a school for children at Mt. Washington, a Yoga University, a world brotherhood colony in Encinitas, a farm, a cafĂ©, etc. etc. — all were ultimately abandoned. It would be natural for those monastics to consider that he also abandoned the ideals that inspired him to try. (Swami Kriyananda taught us that while it wasn’t the right time in American history for these projects to succeed, Yogananda’s efforts signaled his guidance for future disciples. In part, Kriyananda’s view is based on the simple fact that until his guru’s death in 1952 Yogananda spoke forcefully and frequently about the ideal of communities.)

Returning to my original point, it seems to me that from the very beginning, the SRF monastic experience contained the seeds of "us and them." When many years later SRF became financially endowed, they could at last afford to remain apart from the need to depend upon public acceptance. PY's autobiography has immortalized him in the public mind. This is the Master’s legacy. It also has minimize the need for his SRF children to do more than mostly hold up the “Autobiography” and continue to offer the lessons. (There’s the annual convocation, and travel by the monastics to various centers worldwide, as well. Both of these are primarily offered to its own members.)

The world, like Elvis Presley or the Beatles, would simply have to come to them.

In quite a contrast, Swami Kriyananda founded the first Ananda community in the hectic heyday and backyard of the San Francisco-based hippy movement with its "back-to-the-land" and anti-establishment culture. It was communal in spirit and it was communitarian in form. Though a magnetic spiritual leader, Swami's ("SK") intention was to manifest PY's ideal of intentional communities. It was not simply to create another monastery.

This required a more participatory and involved approach rather than a traditionally hierarchical one. SK never had a financial endowment and from the beginning needed and welcomed the support, commitment and creative contributions of others. I won't go further to describe his enlightened, supportive leadership and wisdom, but suffice to say, by contrast, Ananda's very communitarian mission  required fostering an openness and inclusivity markedly different than that of SRF.


Next article is Part 5 - Conclusion: What the Future May Hold

Ananda & SRF: Part 3 - Our Respective Narratives

Part 3 – Our Respective Narratives

Setting aside any residual feelings between Ananda members and SRF monastics for the battles we once waged against each other, I can understand how card-carrying SRF members might be treated differently from the general public. Members would be disciples; disciples would come on pilgrimage, treating these places as sacred ground, attuning themselves to the vibrations of the guru. Thus the impulse to create and validate membership credentials would arise naturally. And, once a visitor presented his credentials, he might be welcomed more warmly than the many casual visitors.

Even if there had not been a long, drawn out lawsuit or preceding years of SRF displeasure, Ananda members would occupy some kind of middle ground between SRF members and the general public. But given the simple fact of Ananda not being a part of SRF and the reality that Swamiji and Ananda were viewed akin to apostates, it is not surprising that for decades Ananda members who visited these shrines encountered from the hosting monastics mixed and confused signals ranging from welcome to disdain.

Most younger monastics, having little knowledge of or interest in Ananda, or any personal animus toward Swami Kriyananda (whom they never knew), were at least cordial if not welcoming. (If they knew anything at all it would have been presumably negative.)

So, you see: quite apart from our particular and specific challenges with each other, we would have been grouped primarily with the general and unknowing (and “heathen”) general public! Polite, yes…..but….

This idea of Ananda members being “neither fish nor fowl” played itself out in our recent visit. Our hosts were friendly and warm and, as is natural and their training as docents, shared stories of the history of the property we were visiting and stories of Master and his disciples. What they presumably did not know was that the stories (even some of the historical anecdotes) were as well known to us (from Swami Kriyananda) as to them. In some cases they were likely repeating stories told them by others who were much more distant in time from the occurrence of those stories than Kriyananda was (who personally knew Master and heard many stories from him, first hand).

The experience was both surreal and disconnecting. We of course appreciated their sincerity and presumed their innocence but whereas other visitors would be naturally appreciative of the effort, we couldn’t help feel distanced for it made our discipleship invisible (or, worse case, considered of no value).

Another facet of these stories is a distinction we have found commonplace between SRF monastics and Swamiji over many years, many visits, recordings, and publications. Swami rarely told a story of Paramhansa Yogananda that didn’t convey a spiritual lesson applicable not only to himself but to his audience.

By contrast, the stories we heard on our tour, apart from the merely historical ones, portrayed the guru as sweet, charming or otherwise being very human or relating in a human way to his close disciples. The lesson of such stories was at least as much the message that those direct disciples were greatly blessed as how charming or sweet the Master was. But no lesson — useful to us — accompanied the story.

This, too, hints at an even deeper distinction (though not an absolute one) between SRF and Ananda. It has to do with the extent each has inherited a view of Yogananda as either unique or as timeless; as personal or as universal.

The narrative goes something like this: Swami Kriyananda came to Paramhansa Yogananda as a young man, age 22. The other close disciples had, in the case of SRF’s leaders, been with the Master many more years, meeting him not only when they, too, were young but when Master himself was much younger and in a different phase of life. Charming, gracious, a powerful orator, and mixing affably with the low and the high of society…...

It is not surprising that the early and close disciples related to their guru in a more personal manner. Think what they went through together; how small was their group; how personal and particular was the form of service they rendered to him (cooking, cleaning, paying bills, etc.) living in close quarters. None of these were appointed as public teachers as Master was the guru. (Who could possibly represent him adequately!) With few exceptions, he appointed men to public roles and with few exceptions these men betrayed him by taking pride in their roles and even competing with their guru for attention.

Next article is Part 4 – Swami Kriyananda & Ananda

Ananda & SRF - Part 2 - Yogananda comes to America

Part 2 – Paramhansa Yogananda comes to America

So, let's roll back the film of our vision to the early days of Yogananda's life in America. When I look at old photographs of Yogananda ("PY") taken during the 20's and 30's I observe among the many faces that surrounded him people who seem clueless as to the true nature and consciousness of the “Swami” (and avatar) standing beside or in front of them. Not only clueless but many seem positively worldly, even skeptical.

It must have been difficult for him in America. What a "great work" PY had to do to overcome prejudice and to dig deep to find fertile, intuitive souls from the midst of the frenetic and materialistic American culture. There's an oft repeated story that at one lecture, attended by thousands (as most of his lectures were during his "barnstorming" days touring the cities of America), PY was congratulated by a student on the size of the crowd. PY replied, perhaps wryly, "Yes, but........only a handful will take up this teaching."

And, sure enough it was true. PY had to struggle against great odds and crushing indifference and ignorance, to share his message of Self-realization to Americans. Only a small handful became disciples committed to serving his work with him. This small band included those who lived with him at Mt. Washington during those first two decades and a half. During the Depression of the 30’s, he said they grew tomatoes and other vegetables there simply to have enough to eat.

But even during Paramhansa Yogananda’s final years and after his acclaimed autobiography had been published, Swami Kriyananda described Mt. Washington headquarters as a “hotel,” with students checking in and out, as if the guru there didn’t meet their standards! Swamiji quotes Master describing the final days (or years) as including a housecleaning, “many heads will roll,” he stated. And indeed, as Swamiji recounts in his own autobiography (“The New Path”), many monks left. In his lectures, Swamiji would sometimes make the comparison to Jesus’ life when, near the end of his ministry, the Bible says “and many walked with him no more.”

In the book, “American Veda,” by Phillip Goldberg, he describes Paramhansa Yogananda’s innovation to send out mail-order lessons in meditation and philosophy as revolutionary in his generation as was the Sears Roebuck catalog in a prior generation. It made accessible to people at great distances Paramhansa Yogananda’s high spiritual teachings, even kriya yoga  – people who would never, otherwise, have had access to them.

But, it also created a gulf of time and distance between the Master’s close disciples (who printed and sent them out) and the faceless students they served. The very format of the printed lessons, impersonal by necessity, only contributed to the gulf between them.

Thus, it seems to me that from the very beginning of Paramhansa Yogananda’s ministry, there was a chasm between the public and the close disciples. Jesus, too spoke to large crowds, but few, perhaps only the 12, shared his life and served his ministry full-time. While this was presumably no surprise to Paramhansa Yogananda, it could have only engendered confusion, insecurity, fear and doubt, even, perchance, resentment among the close disciples.

Swami Kriyananda, in both writings and lectures, would sometimes explain the many hardships, and, yes, even lawsuits, PY had to endure during his life. Those hardships and betrayals were experienced therefore also by the close-knit spiritual family of the monastic disciples who surrounded and served him, and, who would naturally want to protect him, feeling also the hurts of betrayal and apparently failed ventures.

This gap, then is what I perceived visiting these shrines. The worldly consciousness of those thousands of visitors (at least suggested by their perfect tans and figures and their up-to-date, chic fashions) contrasted with the ego transcendent aspirations of the monastics create a climate not unlike a zoo where each species observes the other with curiosity or indifference (but certainly not understanding or warmth). The monastics who live at these places serve as ushers and docents, greeters and hosts, to the curious general public who appear, day after day, wanting to take from these shrines their beauty but who do not stay, who make no commitment, offer no (or little) support and who may never come back again. The monastics are not unlike museum guards and might easily inclined to be mute and withdrawn.

And, what I know from visiting temples and shrines elsewhere in the world, curiosity seekers (and even lesser devotees) will sometimes pinch items to take home for their collections or private devotions. Relics and furniture must thus be protected in such places. (There were security guards at the Encinitas grounds.)

Next article is Part 3 – Our Respective Narratives


Ananda & SRF: Why so Different?

This begins a five-part series inspired by a recent visit of Ananda members from Seattle to southern California where Paramhansa Yogananda had his home and headquarters from 1925 to 1952. Each segment will be posted separately to be read at one's leisure. (Reminder: my views are entirely my own.)


Part 1 – We Visit SRF Locations in Southern California

I and 30 other members of the Seattle Ananda Sangha spent nearly a week in the greater Los Angeles area visiting the places where Paramhansa Yogananda lived and taught. Swami Kriyananda also lived and taught in most of these same places during the last 3.5 years of Yogananda's life and, between there and India, for another roughly 8 or 9 years following Yogananda's passing in 1952. During this time and before being ousted from Yogananda's organization, Swami Kriyananda was Vice-President and a member of the Board of Directors for some of those years in "SRF."

As most readers of this blog are keenly aware, Ananda was sued by SRF and it took some 12 years for the suit to be put to rest. It cost both parties millions of dollars. Though Ananda was assessed with minor monetary damages for duplicating and selling two audio recordings of Yogananda's voice, Ananda's rights to represent Yogananda's teachings, name, image, etc. were upheld. A book, "Fight for Religious Freedom," authored by Ananda's main attorney, Jon Parsons, details some of the history and issues. But today I am not writing about that long and difficult struggle that has so shaped and focused Ananda's work ever since. This is not an apologist effort, for either side, nor am I focused on any other aspects of Ananda or SRF beyond the topic I describe below.

Last week, then, as we toured the SRF places, I could not help but ask: "Why are we (SRF and Ananda) so different?" This wasn't a “good vs. bad” question. It is a curious and inquiring one. Members of SRF, especially referring now to its monastic members who are the stewards of these shrines, are obviously devoted to Yogananda, practicing the kriya yoga meditation techniques, and sincere in every possible way. Yogananda's living spirit and grace surely brings to them, as much as anyone, and possibly more than to most, the soul awakening and personal transformation that disciples of a great guru seek.

And, in fact, those whom we met, our hosts, were gracious, kind, centered and indeed everything one naturally expects from devotees who are deeply committed.

What, then, do I mean by "different?" To keep my thoughts focused, clear and simple, I would say the differences are typically described as follows: the one (SRF) is more reserved and the other (Ananda) is considered more “open.” The one, SRF, is run by monastics (monks and nuns) and the other (Ananda) includes families, singles, and couples as well as a small contingent of monks and nuns. So the simplified “reserved” vs. “open” fits the picture well enough for my purposes today.

But why? Aren’t we both followers of the same spiritual teacher? Yes, but here’s my theme for this article: I believe that the circumstances of the founding and early history of each organization has influenced the character of each.

As we toured the beautiful gardens at the Encinitas Hermitage on what was a typical weekday, I observed many other visitors besides our tour group. Most visitors did not look especially like disciples. It is the same at the Lake Shrine in Los Angeles, which is better known to the general public and which sits on the outskirts of one of the world’s most populace cities. At both of these wonderful places, one more or less observes a wide range of visitors attracted simply to the beauty, serenity and peace of the place. Based on the testimony of people I’ve met over many years, I believe that many visitors have no idea who Paramhansa Yogananda was (or, if so, only generally), or his teachings or organization.

It was in observing the steady flow of casual visitors that the seed of my thinking was planted.

Before I begin let me say that most of what I learned about the life of Paramhansa Yogananda and the history of SRF was from Ananda’s founder, Swami Kriyananda. Other sources include Yogananda’s own writings and voice recordings, the writings of other direct disciples, my own, personal observations, and the testimony of other Ananda members. I am not going to constantly give resource quotes for the statements I am about to make, as it is a mixture of all of these sources. Beyond these sources I will admit out front that I have very little personal experience or personal contacts with SRF and its members. In my years at Ananda since the late 70’s I’ve had little interest in the personalities, activities, opinions, writings or ministry of SRF leaders or any particular interest in SRF’s organizational activities or policies.


Part 2 – Paramhansa Yogananda comes to America - next article

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Our Visit to the Shrines of Paramhansa Yogananda in Los Angeles!

Last week a group of Ananda members from Seattle flew to southern California to tour the places where Paramhansa Yogananda lived and taught and where, also, our founder, Swami Kriyananda came to live during the last three plus years of Yogananda's life and for another eight or nine years after that.

Our trip began in Encinitas where Yogananda wrote (most of) his now famous life story, “Autobiography of a Yogi.” Here, on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, are beautiful meditation gardens, the Hermitage itself, and staff and guest quarters. This was the location of Yogananda’s experiment with what he called a “world brotherhood colony:” where people of all walks of life, races, religions, monastic or householder would learn to live and work together. In his time, he grew vegetables and fruits and had a vegetarian cafĂ© along the Pacific Coast Highway.

We meditated and enjoyed the vibrations of the residue of the many hours of samadhi enjoyed by Master and his most advanced disciple, Rajarshi Janakananda.

We also swam at “Swami’s beach” (the actual name of the state park/beach below the bluffs; so named by the surfers, residents, and fishermen of Encinitas for whom a great love for Master was felt) and ate at the nearby (and now privately owned) Swami’s cafĂ©.


In Encinitas we chanted and meditated at the local Ananda center on the property of Casey Hughes. Casey, who has traveled to India some forty times so far this life, had designed and constructed a lovely outdoor meditation shrine which he had commissioned and constructed in Bali. It was then disassembled and packed into a shipping container and sent to Encinitas where it was reconstructed.

In honor of the pilgrimages led by Swami Kriyananda (years ago) that included a visit to Disneyland, we spent a day there, too. Imagine 30+ adults with no children roaming around Disneyland muttering, “Gee, it IS a small world after all!”

We proceeded to the famous Forest Lawn cemetery in Glendale where the body of Yogananda is interred. This is a popular sacred spot for thousands of pilgrims from around the world. Meditating and chanting in the great halls of Forest Lawn where the Master’s body lies is a special experience. (There are also many famous Hollywood celebrities interred there.)
  
One may easily discover that although Yogananda’s spirit may be omnipresent, his human remains continue to pulse an undying beacon of superconsciousness calling us, too, home to eternal bliss.

Next we visited the SRF Hollywood Temple on Sunset Boulevard. This is where Swamiji met Yogananda on September 12, 1948 and was accepted as his disciple. At various times both Yogananda and Swamiji gave Sunday Services, classes and meditations in the simple but elegant chapel. There one sees two pulpits: one for the resident minister and another for a visiting minister. He called it the “Church of All Religions.” The grounds are lovely beyond imagination: simple yet astral in beauty. We chanted and meditated in the chapel and were hosted by Brother Pranavananda.

Our next stop was Yogananda’s headquarters atop Mt. Washington: a short distance from downtown LA. As a young monk in India it was this building (and the Encinitas hermitage and the school at Ranchi) that he saw repeatedly in visions. We were escorted up three flights of stairs to the apartments of the Master. Words cannot describe the powerful vibrations of utter stillness. It is like walking into the “Vacuum of Eternity,” another world saturated with stillness and divinity hushed but latently infinite.

On the first floor of Mt. Washington, we meditated in the chapel where Yogananda gave kriya initiations, classes, and led meditations. Here too the residue of cosmic consciousness lingers like a “worm hole” into eternity. (One cannot adequately describe the blessing of sacred places where divinity has appeared. It’s not a matter of religion or belief, but experience. Nor is it confined to any one culture or time.)  

Outside in the Temple of Leaves we sat and meditated where Yogananda sometimes gave outdoor classes and where Swamiji and the monks would meditate together. Many of our pilgrims reported their deepest experience here, sitting there under the lovely pepper tree. 

We stayed three nights at the Biltmore Hotel, a structure of such phenomenal artistry and beauty that it stands alone like a time capsule to the days when Yogananda first came to Los Angeles and lived in the Biltmore (before Mt. Washington was purchased). It was here in what is now the lobby of the hotel that he left his body on March 7, 1952. (The occasion was a banquet in honor of the newly appointed ambassador to the United States from India.) Reading (as he once predicted in contemplating the end of his life) his poem, "My India," he dropped gently to the floor, leaving his body, as he said he would, by stopping his heart at the appointed time that he was summoned “home” by God.

While the former banquet hall is now the lobby, the staff at the Biltmore are familiar with the story and the fact that people come year round (but especially in March), to sit calmly with eyes closed near the beautiful Italian artwork before which Yogananda spoke. (You can see parts of the wall piece in the well known picture of Yogananda which is called “The Last Smile.”)

We were guided and ably assisted by the Ananda Center in LA leaders, Narayan and Dharmadevi Romano. They befriended everyone and charmed us with their sweet and focused presence.

On Saturday we visited the famous Lake Shrine which sits in a hillside bowl on a tight curve near where Sunset Boulevard ends at the Pacific Coast Highway. This incredibly beautiful property has as its visual centerpiece a small lake. On it is a houseboat used for meditation and a reconstructed Dutch windmill used as a chapel. The most beautiful grounds and hillsides surround the lake. Ashes of Mahatma Gandhi lie in a sarcophagus (the only ones outside India) and special shrine by the lake. Much more could be said. Thousands come here: some as devotees, some as neighbors, many, attracted like bees to the nectar of peace in a peaceless world.

We were welcomed warmly with the divine smile of Brother Achalananda, once a brother and junior monk to Swami Kriyananda (who as the head monk at the time, accepted Achalananda into the monastery sometime after Yogananda's passing). In two segments (because we couldn't all fit), he chanted and meditated with our group in the houseboat. 

Later, he regaled us with stories at the Lake Shrine temple (built high above the lake) and also commented with kindness and understanding in regards to Swami Kriyananda. It was a special moment for those who were there.

Those of us who were blessed to travel together to these holy places share an unforgettable memory and grace which is ours to meditate upon, nurture, and share.


May the blessings we have received radiate outward in waves of peace!

Nayaswami Hriman

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Confrontation with God: the unspeakable truth!

I've been meditating for decades and teaching meditation publicly for at least half of those decades. Whenever I am tempted (in writing articles or speaking) to start describing "God" I know I'm heading down a slippery slope (to hell? or, to hell with it?). Can we just agree that "God is Infinite" and therefore beyond definition? That would make my article here easier to write, ok?

If you, as a reader, have been taught to meditate anywhere in the Ananda world you will know that we describe meditation as having three stages. Using these or other English words, we begin with Stage 1: Relaxation. In this we might use yoga or similar stretches to relax and also energize the physical body as we transition from ordinary activities towards sitting in meditation.

Stage 2 consists of internalizing our awareness and focusing our attention inwardly. We might chant, use a creative visualize, work with the breath, or observe the breath in a popular mindfulness technique which, in our version of it, Paramhansa Yogananda called, simply, "Hong Sau." There are many other techniques, some more advanced, such as Kriya Yoga.

Stage 3 is when we leave behind all techniques and sit in the silence. Hands down this is, for most meditators, the most difficult phase. Here, we let go completely of doing and relax into "being." While there are elements of this process in Stages 1 and 2, in Stage 3 its a bare-bones, down and out fist fight with the ego to shut up, let go, and go away!

So it's not God we are confronting, it's the ego. And yet, to the ego, it IS God we are confronting and "he don't want nothin' to do with Him." It's like a possessed person being confronted by a saint who commands that the evil entity leave the body of the possessed person. The ego kicks and spits and sends out a blistering diatribe of useless, dumb, or purposely hot-button images.....anything to keep our soul nature from emerging from the ego's prison of self-and-body-pre-occupation.

Oh, yes, there are moments of sweetness, calmness, joy, and surrender. But as Deepak Chopra described meditation: it's the "space BETWEEN our thoughts." I don't care much for this negative definition but I confess that for millions of meditators it's probably closer to the truth of their actual experience.

I could write a book about this issue and share ideas taken from Paramhansa Yogananda, and from my teacher (and Ananda's founder), Swami Kriyananda, and from the Yoga Sutras (Patanjali) and from the long and rich tradition of God-realized yogis and saints. But, well, I have other things to do, too. [There are some pointers to meditators that I could give here but .... maybe some other time.]

This is an unspeakable topic in the sense that a teacher of beginning meditation wants to inspire and encourage, not discourage new students. When I contemplate the challenge and what it takes to consistently have meditations where the ego-mind subsides into silence, and the invisible presence of the powerful, loving, joyful, and/or expansive God of the Self "appears," I tremble.

Yet there's a simplicity in truth. The simple truth of "seeing" God is that you really, really, really have to want to. Does that sound dumb? Trite? Well, too bad for you because it's really, really, really true!

We Ananda teachers enjoy telling the story about Paramhansa Yogananda's first kriya yoga disciple (a Boston dentist named Dr. Lewis) who confronted Yogananda, insisting that he be given a taste of cosmic consciousness. After pestering Yogananda repeatedly, Yogananda one day grabbed Dr. Lewis' (wide) lapels, bringing their foreheads close together and said, "Doctor, if I gave it to you, could you take it?" Dr. Lewis being given "stiff shot" of the stuff (so to speak), lowered his eyes and said meekly, "No sir."

When, even in fleeting moments, we are faced with what seems like the possibility of becoming the Self--this immense, invisible, overwhelming Self--the ego invariably stops and asks for a metaphorical "rain check." Like St. Augustine who prayed, "Make me good, Lord, but not yet."

Part of us does; part of us doesn't. Usually, and until only after great and repeated effort and grace, the part aligned with habit wins out. The "demon" of God has to be confronted and wrestled with. I say "demon" because that's more or less how the ego sees it.

It is devotion and the childlike faith and trust of our true Self that dissolves the invisible but ego-built barrier between me and Me and You. You have to sincerely and purely (and for no other reason) want God alone; Love alone; love without condition or expectation. You have to "know" without second thought that there is nothing greater worth having or being. You have to be convinced to your atoms that there is no other thing, desire, experience, person, or state of greater value. No opinion, no talent, no fantasy worth keeping.

I don't want to discourage anyone. After all, meditation has so many benefits (physical, mental and spiritual) that it really doesn't matter that you haven't "hit the wall," or even seen the darn thing yet. "Sufficient unto the day" is the meditation thereof.

Yet we are all -- beginning meditators and lifelong meditators -- confronted, at least sometimes, with the struggle and the wrestle with that invisible state and presence that calls to us out of the darkness of our unknowing. Is it a demon or an angel? We really don't know. Aren't my thoughts (and plans for the day) important? We won't know until we enter the arena. We won't know whether we are wrestling the ego or the angel until one of us, of them, succumbs to the other.

Entering the arena, then, is a supreme act of faith, and love. Faith is born of love and love, of faith. As Job said in the Old Testament, "Naked I came out of the womb and naked shall I return thither." We must leave everything thought, every self-identification, desire, memory, fear....all of it behind not knowing "whence I go."

I leave now chanting Yogananda's chant: "I shall be roaming, roaming, roaming...."

Joy,

Nayaswami Hriman

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Fall has Fallen Upon Us! Let's Celebrate the Equinox!

So called "modern" man has lost touch with the seasons. As if to prove it, our pollution of the environment has caused the seasons, moreover, to spin out of control, crazily, disturbing traditional weather patterns.

Nonetheless, here in the greater Seattle area, Fall has come! The trees are turning to their Fall colors, bright yet hinting at nostalgia or self-reflection. The sky is mostly gray, with periodic drizzles, hardly worth even the wearing of a hat.

Having for so many years experienced the height of Fall while in Frankfurt, Germany, accompanying Padma to what was her annual trek to the international Book Fair (on behalf of showing [mostly] Swami Kriyananda's books to publishers in other langagues), I receive memory-born glimpses of the colorful trees, the ring of mountains (hills) surrounding the city, bright blue skies alternating with Seattle-like drizzle, the beautiful city park next to the home we stayed, the Fall trees lining the railway tracks that took us to and from the Messe each day......even the fresh, brisk air.

I have come to appreciate, however, in more recent years that Fall is somewhat different for those in the harvest mode. Not yet quite reflective or nostalgic, Ananda Farms staff on nearby Camano Island are busy with the harvest which must get "in" before the weather turns more seriously Fall with hints of Winter!

I suppose each season has at least two, perhaps three, subsets: early, mid and late. Early Fall is characterized by the so-called "Indian summer" of warm days and cool nights. These are sometimes a refreshing change from the unceasing heat of summer days. This is the time of active harvesting, and is a kind of extension of the active nature of Summer.

Consider, too, that school begins in Fall. Early Fall finds millions making key decisions: people move, change jobs, change or enter into new schools, projects start up and summer vacations come to an end. Fall has a quality of beginnings, too!

As a child I recall my own dismay for the undeniable fact of actually welcoming the reappearance of school, even of the familiar routine! Yes, we tend to need structure just as we also need free play!

Mid-Fall includes the October height of Fall colors and the clear transition of nature into withdrawal. The leaves turn and fall; the summer plants drop and wilt, frost may appear in the early mornings. The pace might slow a bit (or, at least we drop into our routines) and the period of reflection begins.

Late Fall might be touched by an early Winter-hinting storm or two but we have been pushed indoors now. This is a great time for Thanksgiving and personal reflection. Being driven indoors symbolizes our coming back together from our "going out" of being outside (in the fields of activity), on vacation, travelling or just being so busy as to not have time to connect.

This is the time of year when I have been blessed to take a week's seclusion at the Camano Island Hermitage (house) which was acquired for this purpose and is shared with many friends.

Fall, perhaps more than the other three seasons, represents for me the "tense and relax" cycle of activity and reflection. Nonetheless, this yin and yang is experienced in all four seasons. For example, the intensity of activity of summer is balanced by vacation and nature. Spring awakens our energy to break out of our routines and get outside: our reflective nature now moves outward into appreciation of nature, beauty, life, and diversity. Winter, while obviously indoors and inward, is yet also a time of deep focus upon our work and life's dharma.

Still, Fall is "my" season, for I was born on a Sunday, October 1st, 1950, and I shall soon be 65 years old! Hard to believe. 65 is the new young, right?

Some days I feel that I've "seen enough" of this world and I want only to be free of the unceasing play of desires, fears, self-identities, success and rejections. I think of the song my teacher, Swami Kriyananda, wrote towards the end of his life: "I don't want to play any more." This feeling (and the song itself) is not a rejection; nor is it sad, either. It is an affirmation: a hard-won affirmation, I might add. I feel the tug of omnipresence, the infinity of God-consciousness.

Other days, the sweetness of pure friendship, the joy of deep meditations, the loveliness of nature, and the diversity and amazing scope of human creativity and inventiveness, are endlessly inspiring as if God has incarnated in so many forms.

I hope for each of us that we commit ourselves to personal soul-time this Fall. Time for reflection. Time for taking retreat or personal seclusion. Life is short and our habits are so deep that too often we live like zombies wandering at night thirsting for life but devoid of joy.

The "Christ" within us yearns to be harvested, but the old habits born of the past must first be shed like Fall leaves. Oh, they might take a "Custer's last stand" by glowing brightly just as you intend to withdraw from them, but fear not, Fall they will as you reach up to pick the harvest of self-reflection in the form of inner, divine joy.

Right about now, mid-September, the night and day are poised in equilibrium. This is an excellent time to feel the growing stillness that is now accessible and which alternates with the intensity of daily activity.

Fall into Joy,

Swami Hrimananda


Monday, September 14, 2015

Breath Mastery: India's contribution to the world's treasury of knowledge

Paramhansa Yogananda, in his now classic life story, “Autobiography of a Yogi,” wrote that “breath mastery” is “India’s unique and deathless contribution to the world’s treasury of knowledge.”

What “knowledge” perchance was he referring to? Knowledge of the Self.  “Know thyself.” (Gnothi Seauton, inscribed in the forecourt at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, Greece.) Or as Shakespeare said in the words of Polonius:  to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Since ancient times and from the wise in every tradition comes this counsel to turn within, to introspect, to become self aware and know the Self.

Yet, so far as I know, only the yogic tradition gives us the “how” of gnosis, of going within. That, formerly secret, knowledge is the science of breath and mind: the science of yoga that is spreading rapidly throughout the world. For yoga is far more than physical movements or static bodily positions, no matter how beneficial they may be. Far too long has the word “yoga” represented only the physical branch of yoga (called “hatha yoga”).

It is no coincidence that our first breath signals our birth and our last, our death. Only the most unthinking would limit the experience of life to the simple act of breathing. As Jesus put it (John 10:11), “I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly.”

This breath, this life is abundant when we have health and happiness. But life is rarely, if ever, a static experience. Joys alternate with sorrows. So if abundance is measured in things, pleasure, human love, material security, fame or name, few will have it if but fleetingly, while those who bask in these are haunted by the shadow of loss ever ready to darken their door.

Breath, taken as the most elemental aspect of being alive, functions like a river. For daily life appears to flow only in one direction: out through the senses into the world around. This direction reverses only during sleep. Following the life-breath inward to its source would seem, therefore, beyond our conscious control.

But just as a boat with a motor can travel upstream towards the river’s headwaters, so too, can we, if we are trained in the science of breath and mind. The legend of the Fountain of Youth has its origins in the all-but-lost knowledge of this science. The Fountain of Youth, like the Garden of Eden, has no earthly location. It is, as Jesus put it, “within you.” Every night in sleep we are refreshed and baptized, at least partially, in the river of life. But sleep returns us to neutral. It is not life changing.

Long ago, the yogis discovered the methods, the means and the science of breath mastery. They discovered how to slow the breath and heart rate so that the river becomes languid and we can “row” upstream. By analyzing the experience and the psychophysiological attributes of the state of sleep, the yogis devised methods by which to enter progressively deeper states of conscious sleep. Conscious, yes: indeed super-conscious; but this state is akin to “sleep” only in mimicking the brain’s methods of turning off the five “sense telephones” (as Yogananda put it) and slowing the heart and breath.

In sleep, we enter the dream state which is as real to us (while dreaming) as the activities of the day. While the reality of the dream state is as easily dismissed as the stars at night are by the sunrise, reflection upon the dream state reveals to us how our reactions, using the brain and nervous system as instruments, create our reality during the day. The introspective mind gradually realizes that all sensory input is interpreted and filtered by the senses and by the attitude, memory, and health of the mind. With poor eyesight we easily mistake one thing, or person, for another. We thus “create our own reality” largely by our expectations, emotional filters, and past memory experiences. I don’t mean to espouse solipsism. Rather, I am saying that our experience of life is largely, as it relates to what is important to us, a matter of our mental and reactive processes.

The yogis discovered the intimate relationship between inhalation and positive reactions and exhalation and negating responses. By slowing the breathing process we gain control over the reactive process, detaching life experiences from our unconscious reaction. We thus gain control over our life. We become more conscious; more alive; clearer; wiser, happier because no longer a helpless reactionary. We grow in detachment while intensifying our inner awareness of a silently flowing river of calmness, contentment and confidence.

The science of breath mastery allows the meditator to enter a state of conscious sleep. By calming and monitoring the breath and heart rate, one can turn off the senses (as we do in sleep) while yet remaining conscious. This is what scientists observe in meditators when the alpha brain waves coincide with the theta waves: conscious awareness paired with sleep-like relaxation.

The meditator can observe the mental processes that otherwise produce the dream state. I am not referring here to lucid dreaming (which can be interesting and useful to a limited degree), because meditation has other goals, such as to transcend the body and sense and memory bound mental processes of the brain. An experienced meditator focuses the mind one-pointedly in order to eventually strip the mind and its mental processes of all self-created images.

Ironically, or so it might seem, most meditation methods use the mind to focus on a single image or object in order to hold at bay, or pacify, the habit-induced onslaught of subconscious images. There’s a saying in India: “Use a thorn to remove a thorn.” When this finally occurs, the image or object of meditation can be released. The meditator then resides in a state of awareness devoid of objects.

[Images or objects of meditation vary widely but for the sake of clarity can include focusing on a mantra, the flow of breath, energy in the body, especially certain channels and places (chakras, e.g.), the feeling of peace and related states, the image of one’s deity or guru, or various subtle phenomenon experienced in meditation such as sounds or images of light.]

The science of meditation encompasses a large knowledge base of techniques and instructions on how to use the breath to achieve what has been called, somewhat incorrectly, “altered states” of consciousness. “Incorrectly,” I aver, because the actual experience of true meditation is so elemental and so refreshing that anyone who has “been there” with any consistency says that it is our natural state. All else is just details and the busy-ness of daily life. It is like finding the pure headwaters of the river of life that, as it runs to the sea of outward activity, becomes polluted by the debris of involvement, limitation, and identification! It is like bathing in pure water or being “born again.”

So life altering are the higher states of meditation that healing and health consequences are inescapable. In fact, different yoga teachers and traditions are resurrecting the health benefits of breath control techniques (traditionally called “pranayams”). The field of yoga therapy, for example, though still focused primarily on physical postures, is one sign of the application of yoga science to healing. Use of pranayams for various health cures is also being rediscovered and subjected to field tests.

A blog like this is not the place for a long string of health references but they can be easily found. I just typed in this question in my search engine: Can pranayams help the body? I got 394,000 results!

But when our purpose for meditation is towards higher states of being, we find steadily that the importance of technique wanes in relation to motivation and will power. In fact, in any given meditation sitting, we are taught to leave a portion of our sitting time for inner silence after techniques. Real meditation begins only as techniques dissolve into the sought after higher states.

[Don’t be fooled, as some meditation seekers fool themselves, in thinking, “Therefore, forget the techniques.” That might work once in a blue moon but such dilettantes rarely stay in the game very long.]

Techniques function much like the motorboat that takes us upstream; or, the training needed by an astronaut before lift off. Once we are in space, well fine, that’s when the training pays off. Once we bathe in the pure headwaters of the river of life, we don’t need the motorboat (we can float back down the river without it!)

People sometimes ask why kriya initiation requires almost a year of training and, when given, requires a pledge of silence, an agreement not to reveal the technique to anyone without prior permission!  The reasons for this are, in part, because it takes training and development to get used to the rarified oxygen-less atmosphere of inner stillness. The brain and nervous system require refinement. Like climbing Mt Everest without oxygen, we have to get used to the thin atmosphere where thoughts subside, the body is left behind, and the emotions have vanished like clouds beneath the intense summer sun.

You may think you want all this but your entire body, nervous system, and reptile brain and ego want nothing to do with being asked to step aside. So far as they are concerned, they are being dismissed and dissolved into nothingness. Who in their right “mind,” would accede to this without a fight! “The soul loves to meditate; but the ego hates to meditate.” So counseled Paramhansa Yogananda.

One needs not only to get used to meditation but also to demonstrate by will power and motivation the necessary “right stuff” to stick with it long enough to get results. Otherwise it’s “pearls before swine.” Not calling anyone here a pig, but what would diamonds be if they were ten cents each? They wouldn’t be diamonds. It takes will power to learn the science of yoga and to go deep into the Self.

If given too soon and one gives up in frustration, rebellion or restlessness, the seed of rejection and doubt is sown. It can take more than one lifetime before that vasana, impression, or vritti, karma, weakens sufficiently so that one’s interest and desire to try again might be re-awakened. One doesn’t give a child a gun or a hammer.

But that’s kriya yoga: an advanced pranayama given to us by masters of the yoga science for dedicated seekers of Self-realization. Only when by sincere self-effort one seeks the “pearl of great price” and knows the obstacles ahead does one accept the pure and grace-bestowing guidance of an enlightened One.

But for most new meditators, there are many pranayams and meditation techniques well suited to stress reduction, health and healing. You can use breath techniques to warm or cool the nervous system; to help you sleep; to still the mind and, as the internet search suggests, heal, help or cure lots of ailments.

Technique, therefore, is a good starting point. Motivation relative to our needs and wisdom is the fuel of our pranayama rocket. With self-effort we can accomplish much. With grace, we leave the “we” behind lest our victories revert and yield, in time, to the grinding wheel of samsara (duality).

Start where you are. Learn to breathe consciously, deeply. Try to be conscious of your breathing throughout the day as well as in meditation. Detective stories say “Follow the money.” Sages say “follow the breath.”

Namaste,


Swami Hrimananda

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

For Ananda Kriyabans only: How to Deepen Your Kriya Practice

Here for the Ananda Seattle kriya members, we have recently written four sequenced articles on "How to Deepen Your Kriya practice." These are for those who have learned the kriya meditation technique from an Ananda kriyacharya. If you are eligible, and would like me to send you these articles, please let me know. I will need an email address, and, if I don't know you well enough already, I will need confirmation of your kriya initiation. If you don't already have my email address, you can use the "comments" below to contact me and I will simply NOT "publish" the comment.

Blessings to you,

Nayaswami Hriman

Sunday, August 30, 2015

What Does it Mean to Be Spiritual?


We frequently hear the expression “Spiritual but not religious.” But what does it mean to be “spiritual?” Someone once asked Paramhansa Yogananda (whose life story, “Autobiography of a Yogi,” is now a worldwide spiritual classic), “Will I ever leave the spiritual path?” Yogananda responded, “How could you? We are all on the spiritual path.”

As it is said that “we are a soul having a human experience in a human body” we intuitively know that we are good, worthy and part of something much greater which is goodness itself. We readily excuse our faults claiming circumstances and outside influences (even if we are not so quick to dismiss the faults of others).

We hear, or perhaps truly know, that “love is the answer.” Or, that “God is love.” So, yes indeed, we have an innate sense of goodness and “God-ness.” We might say of even self-proclaimed atheists that those who love and care for others are as spiritual as most church-goers, especially the more judgmental ones.

Without denying any of these statements, it can also be said that spirituality is a conscious choice. “The road to Hades is paved with good intentions.” Goodness is simply the opposite of badness and the two alternate like day and night. Good karma will eventually be used up and we start over again. Can merely “good people” really say that if they win the lottery they won’t go to seed; or, if they were to be born into positions of power, fame or riches they would retain their “goodness”? What if, instead, they were abused, or born into abject poverty, violence and racial injustice…….would they still be “good?”

Yogananda taught that the ego, which he defined as “the soul identified with the body,” has the right to remain separate from God until at such time as it, like the “Prodigal Son,” chooses to return home to God. We must consciously make that choice. This is also the meaning behind the story of the warrior, Bhishma, in India’s great epic, the Mahabharata. Bhishma had the boon that he could never be killed, even in battle, until he choose to die. Lying on the battlefield with so many arrows in him that his body did not touch the ground, he yet gave an inspired discourse on leadership and rulership. Bhishma symbolizes the ego, just as Moses did. Moses was not permitted by God to enter the Promised Land. Though he had led his people out of captivity (as the ego leads us at first on the spiritual path), he, himself, could not enter therein! (Nonetheless, Yogananda said that Moses was a true master.)

Admittedly, the “dice are loaded” because the ceaseless flux between pleasure and pain, good and bad all but guarantees that in some future life, the soul will awaken to the “anguishing monotony” of endless rounds of rebirth and will cry out for freedom.

Nonetheless, no one achieves soul liberation (called by many names, including cosmic consciousness, Samadhi, moksha, etc.) by merely being good or without conscious effort. The goal might be expressed or felt in many different ways according to temperament, culture, or religious beliefs, but Oneness has no equal, no partner, no opposite. As taught from ancient times in India, this state, relishable beyond any other, is “satchidanandam.” Immortal & eternal, conscious and omniscient, all-pervading and ever-blissful. It is the reason for our existence; it is the One without a second; it is the essence of creation even while yet untouched by the illusion of separateness.

How do we get “there?” “There” is “here and now.” It is always present but yet hidden from our inner sight by our restlessness, but our desires. “Desire my great enemy” is a chant favored by Yogananda’s guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar. Krishna, in the Bhagavad Gita, replying to the question from his famous disciple, Arjuna, “Why do even the wise succumb to delusion?” explained that it is desire that deludes even the wise (from time to time). And most people, far from wise, are quite content to pursue their desires and wouldn’t have it any other way.

It is the nature of this creation to hide the truth; to hide the Godhead from our sight. For reasons beyond our ken until such time as we share the divine vision, we must struggle, indeed, “fight the good fight,” to overcome the qualities (known as the gunas) of nature that so engagingly occupy our interest in day to day life. Thus it is that the great scripture of India, the Bhagavad Gita, takes place on a battlefield where Krishna exhorts the devotee Arjuna to stand up and fight (his lower nature).

To be spiritual is not to reject the world; nor is it to reject the help and company of others of like-mind; nor is it to refuse to share one’s path and spiritual blessings with others. As Ananda’s founder, Swami Kriyananda put it so well, “It is the nature of bliss to want to want to share.”

No one claiming to be spiritual (but not religious) can afford to do so alone. We are not this ego and we are part of a greater reality. To achieve infinity is to expand our hearts natural love to embrace all beings, all creation.

The worldwide work of Ananda was established to create communities and fellowship for those on the inner path as given to us in the form of Kriya Yoga by Paramhansa Yogananda and the line of spiritual giants who sent him to the West.

If members of Ananda simply practiced in their own homes and never came together in meditation and in service, we would lose a great spiritual opportunity. We would find our spiritual progress bogging down.

Swami Kriyananda wisely created two forms of association by which kriya devotees could advance spiritually together. In 2009 he was inspired, as a swami of the Giri branch of India’s ancient order of swamis, to found a new swami order: the Nayaswami Order. “Naya” means “new.” Taking from what Paramhansa Yogananda called a “new dispensation” for the ancient and universal divine revelation called, in India, Sanaatan Dharma, Swamiji established the Nayaswami Order with a new and positive emphasis for spirituality in a new age. The Order describes the goal of the spiritual path as the achievement of bliss in God through the inner path of meditation. Rather than life-rejection, which characterizes spirituality of the past, both east and west, the time has come to see that seeking God is the “funeral of our sorrows.”

Quoting from the Ananda Festival of Light (written by Swami Kriyananda and recited weekly at Ananda Sunday Services), he wrote that “whereas, in the past, sorrow and suffering were the coin of man’s redemption, for us now, the payment  has been exchanged for calm acceptance and joy.”

This universal affirmation finds expression in the Order through the fact that the Nayaswami Order has no organizational association with Ananda’s worldwide work and is open to anyone who seeks and who has demonstrated attunement with these goals and who practices meditation in one form or another.

It thus expresses purely and solely the essence of spirituality in a new and advancing age of consciousness. It acknowledges the importance of ego transcendence but affirms that the goal of ego transcendence is Bliss. There are four levels in the Order: the initial intention of the Pilgrim; the emerging success of the Tyagi (married) or of the Brahmachari (single), and the final vows of renunciation of ego (sannyas) of the swami (whether married or single).

To balance this purely spiritual association is the Sevaka religious order. The Sevaka Order is also worldwide but it is part of Ananda and forms a vehicle by which devotees of the kriya path can, if they choose, dedicate their lives in service to the work of Yogananda through Ananda. Sevakas begin with conditional commitments and after seven years may be invited to make a life commitment.

A kind of subset of the Sevaka Order is a “lay” order organized in some of the individual Ananda communities. It is called the Sadhaka Order. It is strictly local and is open to any kriya devotee who, as part of their life, wants to support and serve the local work of Ananda.

To be spiritual but not religious is not an excuse to cast off any visible form of association with others or form of outer renunciation. Ananda has been blessed to create these forms by which to energize and give practical, meaningful expression to the spiritual path. By creating these forms, like building a beautiful meditation temple, others can be inspired even if only by the example of the dedication of those devotees who have made sincere and recognizable commitment to the spiritual path.

Blessings and joy to you,

Nayaswami Hriman, life member of the worldwide Sevaka Order


Friday, August 21, 2015

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