Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway

Practicing the Presence: present tense? or mind full?

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sat, 25 May 2013 16:12:00 +0000

Is the Present tense? Or is the mind full?

"You have to present to win!"

I had lunch with a friend the other day. I don’t see him often because of he lives at a distance. He works for Boeing in a repair consulting role that fields calls from airline maintenance crews worldwide.

Like firemen who work long shifts with days off in between, my friend has to be on hand for these calls and the long shift days makes meditation time difficult. He has to get up quite early and gets home very late. Consequently, the goal of meditating twice a day is, well, honored “in the breach.” When the days off finally come, he needs rest and, in addition, may have to drive several hours to his first home where his wife is. She’s not a meditator.

I suggested to him that he accept what he can do in re meditation and be grateful for the time he can profitably take. Put aside the “ought” and embrace the reality he’s got. Hopefully by greater appreciation of the time he can take for meditation, he will have a deeper and more satisfying meditation than fussing over what he didn’t and can’t do!

But this brought up the subject of “how to be mindful, and practice the presence of God” during those long shift days. He reported, as do most meditators, that his mind is restless (not just in meditation but during the day), and with the kind of work he does (sitting by the phone waiting for emergency repair calls!), he is lured into daydreaming or otherwise drifting off, as it were.

The mind is a terrific foe even as it can be our guide and mentor. But we must learn to rein it in by focusing it upon interests that feed our ideals, our rightful preoccupations, and our higher aspirations. This takes patience. Did I say “patience?” If not, let me repeat that: it takes PATIENCE!

A couple of points came to the fore spontaneously in our conversation:

The basis of mindfulness is calmness and concentration. These attributes of the mind are most effectively developed through meditation. Thus meditation is essential to mindfulness during activity. In fact, practicing the presence is a form of meditation and an extension of meditation from sitting into activity. The more of the one, the easier for the other, and vice versa!
In coming out of meditation, make it a practice to extend the quiet mind born of meditation into the minutes, and with practice, the hours that follow. Move deliberately, even slowly. Think deliberately, even slowly. Do one thing at a time. As you shower or have breakfast after rising from sleep and meditating, do so in a calm, focused meditative mood.
During the day, return to this space as often as it returns to your mind to do so. Alternatively, using a watch or a smartphone, get a timer (try www.InsightTimer.com), and set a soothing chime sound on the hour to bring you back to that space.
Mindfulness should be practiced a little bit at a time. Calmly, carefully, and patiently. Let it grow organically from the spiritual pleasure and well-being it brings.
“Chanting is half the battle,” to quote Paramhansa Yogananda. Chanting throughout the day, or whenever you can remember, is very powerful and enjoyable. You can use mantras, mantra put to melody, mantra chanted rhythmically, affirmations, or, as we do at Ananda, chants with English words such as the entire collection given to the world by Paramhansa Yogananda or Swami Kriyananda. Or, you can chant your favorite Indian bhajan.
You can chant silently to yourself, or “under your breath,” or, in some cases (like in the car or walking down a noisy city street), aloud!
Mantras to choose from are endless but begin and end, literally, and otherwise, with the mother of all mantras: AUM. Aum can be surreptitiously chanted by simply humming softly wherever you are. For energy and spiritual strength, try Aum namoh Shivaya. For dharma and right action, Sri Ram, jai Ram. For devotion try either the Mahamantra (Hare, hare, Krishna, hare, hare; hare, hare Rama, hare Rama) or Om namoh Bhagavate Vasudeva. Or, simply, Aum guru.
Word phrases, affirmations, or chant words should be simple, especially if your activities require mental engagement. “I am Thine; be Thou mine.” “Lord I am Thine, Be Thou mine.” “I want only Thee, Lord; Thee, only Thee.” “Door of my heart, open wide I keep for Thee.” “I am strong in myself, I am free.” These are just some examples.
Don’t begin by expecting you can do this all day. Start with one minute and build your mental strength from there.
Avoid lapsing into a mechanical repetition, however. It’s not only ok, but perhaps better, to practice for X number of minutes; pause for a bit and absorb the effect.
Forms of mindfulness are also numerous but for those who are not devotionally inclined and who seek to be more present and conscious during activity consider the following:
At natural pauses between activities (closing a file or case or project; finishing a phone call or a meeting, e.g.), do some conscious breathing. Breath techniques abound but what we at Ananda call the “double breath” (tensing the whole body, while standing or seated, while holding the breath after a vigorous inhalation) is great for energy. Long, slow diaphragmatic breathing is good for calmness and presence of mind; alternate breathing, for balance.
Do a mini-meditation: BEE: B reathe; E nergize; E njoy. Take a couple of deep breaths (of your choice, e.g., see #12 above); internalize your awareness and feel the energy of the body; and then be still for a moment and enjoy the experience. Time lapse 30 seconds to 2 minutes!

Am I losing my mind?

A few words on losing your mind. (Huh?) There is a distinct pleasure and satisfaction from “losing yourself” in your activity. It can even be relaxing and refreshing. So what I am saying is that there are two ways to go: set a part of your mind apart from your activity into the watchful state; or, immerse yourself in what you are doing. Thus far in this article I have addressed only the former, not the latter. It comes to me now as an after-thought. But this losing your mind thing needs some clarification.

There are, in turn, two ways to lose your mind. One is to do so frantically, being anxious for the result or engrossing oneself into the experience and descending into subconsciousness. Becoming frantic and anxious and upset is hardly a satisfying experience. Descending into the subconscious mind is what happens when you tuck into your favorite tub of ice cream (when no one is looking) and fifteen minutes later you come up for air realizing that “I ate the whole thing.”

These two examples above of losing your mind are NOT what I am talking about. Here’s what I mean:

Start with calmness and a quiet confidence as you approach the task at hand. If you are devotionally inclined, silently ask for divine guidance in what you are about to do. Silently offer your forthcoming action to God in whatever form you hold dear. Otherwise, simply mentally state your intention and how it fulfills your duty or ideal and fits into your priorities.

Then, as you go about your task, do so with a quiet mind, with calm concentration, and quiet sense of competency and confidence. Don’t be like most people who are of two minds when a difficult or troublesome (or boring) task must be done and can no longer be avoided. Enter fully into what must be done. Palpable enthusiasm is very helpful but sometimes you are simply doing what must be done. Either way do so with your entire BEING.

When you are finished you will find that refreshing sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that comes from doing what is right. Resist the temptation to congratulate yourself: you simply did what was needed. If you are devotional by temperament, thank God for the opportunity and offer the results to God, thus freeing your ego from attachment. In any case, once finished, relax or move on and give it no more thought. Be free of whatever action you engage in once you are finished.

Well, that’s all my mind wants to say today! Remember:

You have to present to win!

Blessings,

Swami Hrimananda!

Reality is a state of consciousness

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Thu, 16 May 2013 18:41:00 +0000

Our minds are so conditioned, so hypnotized to view our responses to the world around as real and correct that we rarely stop to separate our response from our perception of the facts or the truth we think we see. If at dusk while walking we see ahead on our path what appears to be a snake that is only, upon closer inspection, a rope, then we can relax from our response of fright and say that this response was in error. Rarely, however, is life so simple or clear.

Our frightened response, however, is, in the moment, at least, true for us, regardless of the correctness of our perception. All too often the amount time between perception and reaction is so tiny that we get used to equating our reaction with the reality. It takes the habit of calmness and mindfulness, born of meditation and practiced throughout the day during activity, for us to remain sufficiently calm so as not to fall into the habit of confusing response with reality.

Paramhansa Yogananda counseled students: “Circumstances are always neutral. It is how you react to them that makes them seem either happy or sad.” If you dislike someone, you are much more likely to be critical of his every sentence or action without ever stopping to consider that the source of your criticism lies in your dislike, not necessarily in what he has said or done.

Indeed, someone who admires this person will either defend the person or not even notice anything worthy of comment, what to mention criticism. Further, he may even find something admirable rather than critical!

Although I don’t hear this expression much anymore, it used to be asked of someone who was having a bad day, “Did you get up on the wrong side of bed this morning?” By this we acknowledge the influence of our moods and attitudes on our response to life’s daily challenges and activities.

But my subject goes deeper than this obvious and simple fact of human psychology. Although still far from existential, it is also true that upon entering a room a carpenter notices the baseboard trim is not straight, the painter, that the paint is peeling, the interior decorator, that the furniture is out of date, the mother, that her child is far too quiet, and the father, that he’s late for work and can’t find his car keys!

Is it true, then, that we see only ourselves, then? That we see only what we are interested in? What we are capable of seeing? Most certainly it is: at least for most people on this planet. Observing simple facts like a crooked baseboard or peeling paint is not significantly meaningful to our lives. Think then how much reality we lose when it comes to gut reactions on the hot, emotional buttons of our lives?

I observed, more than once, that my spiritual teacher, Swami Kriyananda, upon entering a room, rarely seemed to notice (even less to comment upon) the details of a room, unless he did so for instructive purposes. Once, when he was our guest in our home, he commented that hotels that were run by thoughtful people remembered to put hooks in the bathroom for clothes or one’s bathrobe. (We immediately went out and installed a hook on the inside of the bathroom door!) By contrast, most people entering another’s home for first time, literally “jump” on every detail, painting, furniture, wall colors--eager to pass judgement, either “ooohing” and “aaaahing” or turning up the proverbial nose (“Such Cretans!”). If we do this for such relatively trivial objects in our field of vision, how much more are we at sea for the important things?

Yogananda taught that the law of magnetism determined what circumstances and people were drawn to you. By magnetism, he meant the vibrational (attractive or repulsing) aspect of karma. By karma, he means the cumulative impact of past and current actions. Thus a person who, whether in past lives or the current life, has dedicated his energies to making money is, at least eventually (if he pursues his monied goal with intelligence, intensity, and sensitive awareness) going to attract financial success.

This law of vibrational resonance is what some “new agers” refer to as the Secret or what they mean by “creating your own reality.” Contrast staying in a five-star hotel with sauntering through a crowded, noisy slum on a hot, sultry day at high noon. We live in different worlds. Imagine paying $10,000 for a first class airline ticket for a flight of, perhaps, eight to sixteen hours! What is the life of a paraplegic in comparison to a wealthy heiress or globe-trotting financier? Different worlds, indeed.

Outwardly, at least! The more extreme our outer circumstances the more intensely we will tend to identify with them. For those on the path of mindfulness, however, we discover fairly quickly that the more we experience our core consciousness, stripped of name, body, ceaseless flux of thoughts and emotions, the closer we come to pure consciousness. We find, in time and with dedicated effort, that the reactive processes begin to fall away and we simply observe what is “ours” to observe without filtering it through the strainer of our fears and attractions.

There is no objective reality in the sense that the “pure mind” intends to visually observe every possible mundane fact in his immediate environment, from baseboards to dust to the art work on the wall! To one seeking higher consciousness (defined as God or in any other way, e.g., bliss, joy, and even emptiness), the most important reality is to first perceive, and then to become, that consciousness. Are we not all seeking happiness? And how could true happiness be anything else if not unalloyed, ever-new, and permanent?

Reality in other words cannot be separated from the consciousness that perceives it. The highest reality is when separation between the knower, the known and the knowing melts into Oneness!

All we really possess, then, is our consciousness. There isn’t anything else. That doesn’t mean we can eat junk food and escape the consequences; or steal someone else’s car; or lie or cheat. Those actions presuppose the very separateness that brings us dis-ease, discontentment, and ultimately pain.

Rather, this means that, even if it means at first just affirming it, positive, inclusive and expanded states of consciousness will bring us greater and greater happiness. We are happier loving than hating; giving rather than taking; sharing rather than hoarding.

Our evolutionary path upward from the rocks, plants and animals has endowed us with the necessary and highly refined instincts for survival and for sensory pleasure and, on the human level, ego self-aggrandizement. All this works rather nicely to get us to the human level and, at that level, to excel and expand our horizons. But these become a glass ceiling when it comes to transcending the wheel of birth and death, and the ceaseless flux of opposite states of pleasure and pain.

We cannot but define happiness as permanent but the happiness we know through the body and the ego is anything but permanent. We have a profound, existential dilemma, for knowing this fact dilutes the fleeting pleasure or success or human happiness that comes our way.

Thus spiritual consciousness and awareness (which, when formalized and organized, coalesces into religion) invites our dissatisfied ego to rise toward a transcended state of consciousness.

This, then, is what is meant by “reality is a state of consciousness.” Meditation is the surest form of experiencing transcendence. Transcendence, being consciousness itself, is most effectively known (experienced) by consciousness itself. Further, it is most readily contacted by association and attunement with one who embodies, contains, and holds that consciousness. Thus the long-standing acknowledgement of sanctity personified and embodied in saints and masters.

Transcendence, so far as we are concerned (and we are concerned!), can only exist in embodiment. Not because it is limited but because we are limited. When we look at a beautiful sunset, we can enjoy it but we cannot, for the enjoyment of it, become one with it. Same, too, with someone we love. We are forced by nature and duality to be prevented from merging with the object of our love by the very electro-magnetic field that surrounds our body and its attendant, ego, and keeps our Spirit imprisoned. On the level of I-am-loving-you we must forever be separate.

We must first discover transcendence in the field of our body and, being locked in, that requires a transfusion, a transmission of transcendence not from nowhere in space but from its embodiment in space. Thus the power of a true guru who transmits this “knowing” and awakens it so, like a seed, it can grow from within. While a true guru, being transcendent, is not limited by his or her physical vehicle, it is we who need the vehicle through which to “tune in.” Thus, even after the physical death of such a one, a true disciple can draw inspiration and magnetism through meditation, prayer, and service. Ultimately, this transmission is only an “inside” job but we have to start where we are.

Further, it is the creative and loving desire of the Creator that this transcendence be awakened and experienced in the creation and not separate from it. We don’t have to die to “go to heaven.” This too is another reason that the transmission occurs from embodiment to embodiment.

Well, time to go!

Blessings to you,

Nayaswami Hriman

aka Swami Hrimananda

Tomorrow is a Tide that Sweeps Away the Past

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sun, 05 May 2013 14:11:00 +0000

As I stood on the banks of the Ganges in the world's most ancient (and continuously inhabited) city -- Varanasi, India -- I scanned the ancient riverside ashrams and crematory grounds, the orange-clad or naked sadhus tending their ritual fires, and the devotees bathing in the Ganges to remove their sins. The thought that came to me is that all of this will be swept away by the rising tide of change. Change is happening at an accelerated pace, especially visible in up and coming countries like India, but de facto everywhere.

In Varanasi, as everywhere, developers will see profits and opportunities in this haven of tourism and pilgrimage. Civic boosters will want to clean it up and give visitors have more comfortable places to have lunch, shop, and spend their tourist rupees. A few showcase sadhus can be reassigned to a special section for posterity's sake and authenticity. Mimic the old architecture but build anew and make it nicer for visitors. Whole blocks of the twisting and turning alleyway-streets will be razed for modern hotels, with pools and lawns (oh, and underground parking). Oh, yes...........can't you see it?

On my last two trips to India I went up into the Himalayas. I could see that the hill stations nearest the plains will soon be developed into second homes, gated communities, resorts, and yoga retreat centers. Many of them were created by the British precisely for recreation and vacation, and, a relief from the heat, squalor, and intensity of the plains. Are middle class Indians wanting anything different? They'll widen and straighten out some of the roads and voila! The rising middle class of India will escape to their beloved (and beautiful) Himalayan foothills. I can see it now. Ok, then, soon, or not too far off.

We can see this trend in America where nothing is very old. We can see it well established in Europe. They preserve and yet simultaneously upgrade and modernize a core area of some historical value and then let development proceed all around it. I think however looking far ahead -- afterall things do deteriorate --- these core areas will gradually shrink. More importantly, so will the interest of future generations in them. Do you see among today's young a burning interest in antiquity? I don't. They are more interested in their computer games, gadgets, and, of course, one another. I wouldn't be surprised that future city planners will find it convenient to preserve these old monuments virtually in a kind of digital museum where you can "walk" through the old Roman fort or castle wearing a 3-D sitting in a comfortable chair.

You don't need to be an avatar or rishi to see this kind of change everywhere. But in fact there are some avatars who have already predicted it. In the lineage of Paramhansa Yogananda, his guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar, announced a major correction to the Hindu calendar which, during several thousand years of the Kali Yuga -- the low ebb of consciousness in the unending cycle of time -- had gotten off, mathematically.

Sri Yukteswar, himself a great sage and astrologer, proclaimed that on or around the year 1900 the earth entered the second age ("Dwa" - Dwapara) and would begin its ascent into an age whose theme would be "energy." Soon thereafter Einstein announced that energy is the underlying reality of matter. The twentieth century saw the dawning of nuclear energy and the head-over-heels extraction of oil for energy which fueled an unprecedented surge in human development in all fields (including warfare). We have energy medicine and energy healing. Energy is all the rage, in fact.

How many indigenous cultures and languages have already been destroyed. Those few who remain are dwindling in their commitment to traditional lifestyles. In the years and centuries to come they will all essentially vanish, leaving only remnants in the form of stylized, special-occasion cultural events or preserved places. Traditional religions, steeped in their vestments and robes and rituals, will steadily fade from relevancy, leaving also only traces of their past.

Nations, cultures, languages with their distinctive cuisine, clothing and uniqueness will surely retain vestiges of their past habits, attitudes, and history but they will be like the transplanted New Yorker living in Los Angeles who still has a detectable New York accent. It will be quaint and recognizable but like the Indian in the adjoining cubicle at Microsoft, his accent doesn't get in the way of his enjoyment of going to the gym or hiking in the mountains with the guy from Peoria next to him.

Travel, education, communication, technology and consciousness cannot but erode the isolation and uniqueness of formerly far-flung and exotic cultures. I sincerely hope that doesn't put Starbucks and MacDonalds on every corner from here to Timbuktu but, for a time, it might. It certainly is happening now, anyway.

Is the destruction of these traditional ways to be decried? Well, no doubt for many. But it would be like crying over spilled milk. Nothing can stop the rising tsunami of change and connectedness. The down side to the status quo is the status quo: warfare, terrorism, exploitation, prejudice, ignorance, distrust and hatred. Do we have a choice? I doubt it. We cannot have it both ways: on the one hand we want to see the world change for the better; on the other hand, we don't want to lose distinctive differences in cultures. These distinctions, unless paraded out only for entertainment of visitors, are also what separate us.

Will Indians stop wearing saris and Peruvians abandon their colored cloth? Already in India, modern young women don't wear traditional saris. They've taken some of the colors and fabrics and made them into more practical forms. Cultural characteristics and attitudes will survive just as blue eyes and blonde hair get passed from generation to generation. But they will survive only as remnants, reminders.

Already the world's cultures live and work together. For now that's mostly in the cities, but look again and travel again, the intermixture is seeping into every village, and even more so into remote corners because remote corners are strongly attractive to the adventurous! How many pop culture T-shirrts and baseball caps do you already see in the villages of India, Tibet, Nepal, Africa?

The ancient medieval church structures may be preserved here and there around the world. But with wars, famine, natural forces of deterioration, and economic depressions, one by one they will fall by the wayside because we are looking to the future now, not to the past, for guidance and unfolding wisdom. Our past history teaches us many lessons but it is the future that beckons us, for the past will be submerged in the rising tide of consciousness that is the ascending cycle into which this planet has just barely begun.

Every 80 to 100 years the entire planet's inhabitants is refreshed with new human beings. How much do you about your grandfather's life, character, problems and victories? Probably next to nothing apart from being your grandfather. Certainly this would be true of your great grandfather. For some it may be true of your father or mother!

In future centuries worshipers of each faith will honor their traditions and symbols and credos but will relegate these to a secondary status in favor of direct, inner communion with their "God" through meditation, acts of humanitarian and personal service, and fellowship with like-minded individuals.

The first Ananda movie, Finding Happiness, shows how small communities will flourish in coming times as a practical and natural balance to the crushing forces of modernization and globalization. We need practical ways to express our creative idealism even as we live in this new, global village.

So, feast not your eyes with too great sentiment upon the monuments and traditions of the past. Appreciate them for their universal impulse and ideals but look anew and look within for fresh expressions of the divine here and now! For as your body and mind will soon be buried in the sands of time, so too all this will vanish from our sight. Extract from the present, the past, and even the future the unchangeable NOW of God's presence. Saints and devotees have come into this Dwapara Yuga to create new portals, new shrines, new sacred places of pilgrimage where God's presence and grace, ever-new in flow and form, can be tapped. We can be a part of that effort to establish and affirm anew the sacredness of life, investing that grace into living forms and new sacred places.

Mostly, of course, it is within you. But as we are a part of a greater reality all around, it is also to be found all around! Rejoice and put your shoulder to the wheel of divine creative service and reflection.

Blessings,

Swami Hrimananda

reference: Religion in the New Age by Swami Kriyananda. http://www.crystalclarity.com/

Personal Reflections: My Teacher, Swami Kriyananda

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 18:25:00 +0000

This blog article is a follow up to the previous one about the life of Swami Kriyananda. I noted in a postscript to that one that it omitted any personal reflections and that I intended to do that subsequently. So, well, one could go on forever, but this is it for now.

I did share more personally in my Sunday Service talk (April 28; see Ustream.com search on AnandaSeattle). In that talk I also gave a report on my quick trip to Italy last week to attend the memorial service for Swami Kriyananda that was held at the Temple of Light at the Ananda Retreat Center and Community near Assisi, Italy.

You will hear from others who share their stories about Swami Kriyananda that their individual relationship was just that: individual. As I noted previously, a person such as Swamiji who lives from his own center relates appropriately and uniquely to each person and circumstance. So, too, therefore, must my own reflections admit to the limits of my own relationship with him.

My relationship with him began slowly. One could say that I was slow to warm up and cautious about accepting him as my spiritual teacher. When I arrived at Ananda Village in 1977 he was in India. Padma and I were forced to live in nearby Nevada City — a half hour away from the Ananda Village community because of the (now well known) forest fire in June 1976 that destroyed most of the homes. In addition, as there were fewer jobs, we started an accounting practice in the picturesque town and county seat of Nevada City. For these reasons I had fewer occasions in those first years to interact with Swamiji than I would have, perhaps, had I lived at the Village at that time. (We finally were able to move in the Village community in Fall of 1981 when a recently built house became available and we had sold my CPA practice in order to buy it.)

Despite my slowness, I would listen to cassette tapes of his voice (even before I ever met him) and, owing to the battery-operated inadequacies of on-site, outdoors recordings, his voice seemed very young, high pitched and way too fast, just short of Mickey Mouse and definitely not his real voice (which is rich, resonant, and deeply calm). The result was that I did not have the impression of a hoary, sage-like yogi. In short, he didn't fit my image of a yogi at all. To make it worse, he was American! Pawshaw, I say (having just been in India nearly a year traveling its length and breadth). Who ever heard of an American yogi? (Do you recall Walters' own response to the "Autobiography of a Yogi's" dedication to Luther Burbank, an "American saint!" Well, that was mine as well.)

The feeling of standoffishness seemed mutual, though perhaps he didn't wish to impose if I were not ready to engage. Besides, I wasn't really all that sure about the viability of this nearly-destroyed community with a lot of former hippies who had more enthusiasm than skills and more optimism than money. Yes, I was, if not skeptical, then watchful. Yet, I was there and powerfully drawn to the path of Kriya Yoga and to the teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda. Further, on a level that I could not consciously access at that time, I knew I was supposed to be there and that this off-beat collection of seeming misfits, which in a way included its Swami, held for me the promise of "immortality" (meaning spiritual fulfillment in this lifetime) that I sought! I also felt a calm and accepting presence and connection with Jyotish Novak, Swamiji's successor and the first person I met at Ananda Village when we came for a visit in May of 1977.

During those years I absorbed every word I heard from Swami: recorded or live, and mostly live, for he taught often at Ananda Village. In addition, Padma and I would occasionally go to Sacramento or San Francisco where he lectured publicly. So while his personality, which was strong and confident, even while soft and sensitive, did not draw from me a more personally interested response, I was very much drinking in his wisdom and vibration. In fact, many years later when I began teaching I discovered that out of my mouth, "so to speak," came words that surprised me but which I was able to trace to something he had written or said in a talk.

But it was the intensity and urgency with which he conducted his activities, his writings, music, travel, and projects that puzzled me. I didn't understand, really, what the fuss was all about. You'd think the whole world hung on his every action and that it would end if he didn't complete the next thing a day earlier. I still had many years of associating spirituality with a peaceful, laid-back image comfortably arranged so as to frequently chant, like Alfred E Neumann, my adolescent idol, "What? Me worry?"

Only gradually over the years did the intensity of energy needed for spiritual growth become a reality to me. Then, too, came the dawning of the awareness that Swamiji was the de facto successor to Paramhansa Yogananda's worldwide spiritual work. Kriyananda's intensity and creativity was a product of his divine attunement and in particular his attunement with Yogananda. This was his normal state of consciousness! Whew! This is what it is like to be around a saint?

His transparent self-honesty and self-questioning also struck me as self-absorbed until, as I matured, I realized that this was a gift to us of observing the process of spiritual introspection. It conveyed deeper spiritual teachings than mere abstract precepts with which I tended to remain content (and smug). It provided encouragement, too, because a devotee must confront self-doubt. It is part and parcel of the soul's halting emergence into the sunlight of God's presence which is both scorching and healing at the same time. His doubts were my doubts. His processes, my own. I just hadn't yet become aware of it and initially thought, "Gee, what's wrong with this guy. He doesn't seem to be very sure of himself."

As I took on more responsibilities in the financial and business realm of the tiny and struggling community, my contact with Swamiji increased. Still, I had yet to develop intuition as the normal frequency of consciousness on which to operate. Therefore, his responses, comments, and intentions remained hidden, for me, behind a veil of mystery. His close associates seemed to nod and bob and weave with his every utterance and that, too, was cause for holding back. The more those close to him seemed fawningly eager to do his bidding, the further back I would step. I was simply, at first, too insecure myself to distinguish blind following from intelligent and heartfelt enthusiasm. His closest were invariably highly intelligent, creative, and anything but “Yes men.” In my defense, my own temperament is deliberate and thoughtful. I tend to pull back from bursts of what might seem unthinking enthusiasm. Like some, what I commit to must be felt within myself before I give it my energy and enthusiasm.

When Swamiji would proclaim each and every book of his as the next "best seller" (when I knew perfectly well it would not be), it took me a long time to realize that he was no stranger to the facts. He simply preferred to remain open to Divine Mother's grace and boundless resourcefulness. And, he wanted to encourage and inspire us to always be positive, even in the face of so-called "facts." In fact, since a deliberating (“Hamlet complex”) temperament often dissolves into negativity, he once spontaneously offered me this personal counsel: "Don't be negative!"

I will skip ahead for the simple fact that Kriyananda's transparent self-honesty, wisdom, and devotion uplifted anyone who, on a deeper level, responded positively to him and who was basically in tune with all that he represents (viz., Yogananda's teachings and spirit). And when I say "in tune," I do not mean this in some narrow or sectarian way. Swamiji, like his guru before him, has friends all over the world and in every walk of life. Some have no outward affiliation with the work of Ananda or the teachings of Yogananda but feel Swamiji is their friend in whom they can trust. As so many others have attested, Swami Kriyananda was a citizen of the world and could relate appropriately to anyone. He made friends wherever he went.

Many a guest or family member (of an Ananda resident) found Swami's humor disarming. His charm and humor rendered him accessible and human. Spiritual teachers are all too often pompous, self-righteous and aloof. Swamiji was never any of these things. However, the first joke I recall him telling was a turn off to me: it seemed to be what we would now call "politically incorrect." I won't repeat the joke but it was about two Brahmins in India stuffing themselves at a free banquet to the point of retching. It left me puzzled and bemused. Now I occasionally tell the same joke with great hilarity!

During the Eighties he began the habit of publicly castigating accountants, usually doing so by telling a story about a businessman who fired his accountants because they couldn't really tell him anything useful for running his business. The story was that the businessman complained that the accountants were merely reporting the past.

Ananda was in a growth phase. We had started numerous small businesses and I was part of the management team. I was the Community's chief accountant and I had to sit there in the audience time and again and listen to this. Sometimes friends would commiserate with me but it always a case for discomfort, for I, at least, trusted he had a point to make and it was likely one I needed to hear (there weren’t any other real accountants around for miles). I didn't feel I was all that personally identified with my role, but perhaps I was and didn’t know it? There was, as I look back, a further point: he was helping me to become less reactive to the limiting perceptions of others and the limiting characteristics of any outward role in life. This would help prepare me for the leadership role I was to be given by him in later years.

I rarely sought his counsel for personal matters. I was not resistant to his counsel, but rather felt respectful of his time and did not want to presume upon his interest. I did, however, write to him for his approval for Padma and I to marry. After some twelve or more years doing the accounting at Ananda, I shared with him (on a trip to Italy; we were guests at a member's home in Rome, at the time) my feeling that it was time for a change. He took it under consideration but seemed to agree.

In that conversation, nor at any other time, did I describe to Swamiji my childhood experiences and my early life quiet, inner conviction that I would someday be committed to divine service and sharing. But it was to this calling that he was later to guide me and when it came I was ready, though at first I hesitated, for now with some years on the spiritual path I had gained an appreciation for what seems at times like the receding horizon line of perfection and for what, some days at least, seems the growing unworthiness of the aspirant.

Other times he would comment to me, like the time he passed me in the hallway and quipped, "You're very responsible." (Even I understood that this was not a compliment. God is the Doer!) On a few occasions his comments (intended for me) were delivered via others, including once or twice via Padma. Such deliveries were a cause for annoyance, to be sure. I think he was trying to toughen me up from touchiness around what others think. There were a few occasions when I thought he misjudged me for not having the facts. Gradually I learned that "facts are not a truth" and that occasionally circumstances would be used to make a point and the point was more important than the circumstances!

Accepting correction with equanimity and openness is one of the surest forms of testing one's spiritual progress and I can't say that during those years I had graduated.

Still, I wonder of what value are these commentaries and how little they must reveal of the depth and breadth of Kriyananda's wisdom and compassion? Among the lessons I learned are to be inwardly still in the presence of one's teacher and indeed any saintly person. This came naturally. I would sometimes go to his office with work related complaints or problems and by the time he had shared his latest piece of music or writing, the problem seemed so unimportant, if it had ever existed at all.

I found from him validation for another important teaching which came to me more naturally. Any advice one receives should be taken inside and validated by its intuitive resonance with one’s own deeper nature. In the presence of a God-realized guru, this resonance may already be very deep and even instantaneous, not requiring contemplation or deliberation. But from any other source, counsel from without should be tempered by intuitional validation.

I once observed Swamiji offering to one of our resident members the management of one of our key businesses. I happened to be standing nearby and was aghast, for I considered the man incompetent for the task and, besides, I knew the business to be in serious trouble. But the man had informed Swamiji that he was considering leaving the Community. The fellow had tried to start his own business but was, truthfully, not cut from the merchant cloth. In fact, he was a bit goofy (in my view, at least!). The business in question, already marginal, would surely be laid to rest by this man. Yet, out of loyalty to the higher principle of this man's spiritual welfare, Swamiji was willing to sacrifice the success of our struggling community business (a health food store and small cafe).

Well, I could go on endlessly. Books will be, and have been already, written attempting to chronicle the spiritual stature of this enigma of a man. His enigma is ours: we are both “human,” and “divine.” One more advanced in Self-realization exhibits a higher-than-logical spontaneity and wisdom not commonly encountered. Swami Kriyananda embodied the saying, quoted in Autobiography of a Yogi: "Softer than the flower where kindness is concerned, stronger than thunder where principles are at stake."

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

Reflections upon a life: Swami Kriyananda, 1926-2013

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 01:40:00 +0000

On Sunday morning, April 21, near Assisi, Italy at his home, Swami Kriyananda breathed his last upon this earth. Born May 19, 1926 as James Donald Walters of American parents living in Romania, Swamiji was born and died in Europe. In his dignity and habits, he was a European. In his soul, he was, as it were, a rishi clothed in the garb of a yogi from India; and in his love of life, of people, his vitality and creativity, he was just as truly an American. He was of an older more dignified and noble time and yet he was younger, an Atlantean who delighted in the latest technologies of our advancing and ascending age.

The more one lives centered in the soul, in the Self, the more one's life becomes a crystal, reflecting truth in an infinity of rays of color, shape and form. Personal and appropriate with those whom he conversed and served, and yet impersonal reflecting not his likes and dislikes but the truth that we are each children of the same Light.

I was privileged to represent members and friends of Ananda in the greater Seattle area at the memorial service for Swamiji held in the Temple of Light at the Ananda Center near Assisi, Italy (home of St. Francis of long ago). This Service took place on Wednesday, April 24. A video recording of that service can be found on YouTube at http://youtu.be/uIWskubxCt4

Because I had leave for Italy right away I could not attend our own Service held in our Meditation Temple in Bothell on Monday evening, April 22. You can a video recording of that Service at http://www.Ustream.com Search on AnandaSeattle.

Swami Kriyananda was a direct disciple of the now famous yogi, Paramhansa Yogananda, whose life story, Autobiography of a Yogi, has become a spiritual classic in our time. Swamiji spent the same amount of time with his guru as the disciples of Christ spent with Jesus (about three plus years). Yogananda, despite being in a relatively withdrawn phase of the last years of his life, nonetheless permitted young "Walters" to "hang out with him" and ply him with questions. Yogananda shared many stories from his "barnstorming" years travelling across America giving lectures and classes to thousands. Yogananda, like Vivekananda decades before, became quite a sensation and sought-after speaker in American intellectual and liberal social circles.

After Yogananda's death in 1952, the young monk, who in 1955 took the spiritual name Kriyananda, rose rapidly in his guru's organization (Self-Realization Fellowship, aka SRF) as its foremost public representative. He traveled widely in America, Europe and India. As his zeal for sharing his guru's teachings grew and took on more expansive forms, the senior disciples of SRF became alarmed and, perhaps drawing on the example of male teachers groomed by Yogananda decades earlier who later betrayed Yogananda, finally decided in 1961 to dismiss Swami Kriyananda from SRF's membership and nip in the bud what they could only imagined was an ambitious ego instead of a dedicated disciple bent on spreading his guru's message of Self-realization.

As difficult emotionally as his dismissal was curt and unexpected, it did make possible the founding of Ananda in 1968. Only by separation from SRF (which he himself would never have sought) could Swamiji be free to establish intentional spiritual communities ("world brotherhood colonies" as Yogananda called them) and author some 150 books on a wide range of subjects inspired by Yogananda's teachings and spirit.

Despite persecution from SRF long after his dismissal, Kriyananda always espoused, even to the extent of his will and last testament, that Ananda remain open to work cooperatively with and be respectful always of his guru's own work.

Swami Kriyananda leaves behind a worldwide network of communities, retreat centers, meditation and yoga centers, meditation groups and a host of related activities and organizations, including schools for children, a new genre of music, and an entire liturgy of ceremonies inspired by the nonsectarian precepts of Sanaatan Dharma, the essence of Vedanta and India's sacred revelation from ancient times.

Perhaps more importantly, Swamiji's legacy is the bouquet of souls who, with his tender and wisdom-guided nurturing, have flowered in his care. Some have done so directly from his hand; many more have done so through his example, his writings, his music, and the fellowship of souls who are his spiritual children serving the work of a great guru, Paramhansa Yogananda.

Such disciples will nurture other souls making the real work of God through the Self-realization lineage (which culminated in Paramhansa Yogananda) impervious to the assaults of time and the inevitable rise and fall of the fortunes of organizations.

For some sixty-five years of discipleship, Swamiji has traveled this earth writing and lecturing and founding communities. He has done so despite opposition from other fellow gurubhais and despite the burden of a physical body that rebelled against his employment of that vehicle in intense and unceasing divine service. He had three hip operations (one had to be re-done), a pace-maker, suffered from diabetes, had a bout with colon cancer, became increasing hard of hearing (making public life very difficult ) and had a medical chart that left doctors across the globe in awe.

His will power, considerable though it was, was never directed against others. It served him only his discipleship sharing Yogananda's work. In fact, and in retrospect, Swami Kriyananda became the one disciple more than any other direct disciple, who has publicly served Yogananda's mission and thus has earned the self-evident role of Yogananda's principle heir in public service.

For all of his prolific and concentrated effort, Swami Kriyananda maintained personal friendships with hundreds if not thousands. His correspondence (which in recent years morphed into email, and thus, as for everyone else, multiplied exponentially) would have, for most people, been a full-time job. His writings ebbed and flowed but never ceased. During especially creative periods, it took more time for those to whom he would send by email his manuscript drafts for review, than it did for him to write them. Or, so it seemed!

His last book was a re-write of one of his first books: Communities: How to Start Them and Why.

He no doubt overstayed the welcome that "Brother Donkey" (the physical body) offered and by guru's grace remained to see the first of three movies finished. "Finding Happiness" is about the work of Ananda and will be released to theaters in the Fall of 2013. "The Answer" is a movie about Kriyananda's life and a third movie will be about the life of Yogananda.

The work of Ananda has spread to include north, central and south America; Europe and India.

One of the questions young Walter asked his guru was "Will I find God in this lifetime?" The great guru responded, "Yes, but at the end of life, for death will be your final sacrifice."

While the bodies of most swamis are cremated according to custom, a decision has been made to bury Swami Kriyananda's body at his home, the Crystal Hermitage, located at Ananda World Brotherhood Village, near Nevada City, CA. On the grounds of the surpassingly lovely Crystal Hermitage overlooking the north fork of the Yuba River, will his body be buried and atop the grave will be a shrine which tentatively may be termed "Moksha Mandir" in honor of Yogananda's promise of freedom ("moksha" refers to the soul's freedom in God).

A formal memorial will take place in May at Ananda Village (May 18-19). Kriyananda's body is being shipped from Italy back to the U.S. on Monday, April 29.

A great yogi in India was asked by Kriyananda why it was this yogi had no disciples or outer spiritual work. His reply was "God has done what He wanted with this body." Thus it is that the degree of approval or disapproval of the world means little to the sincere lover of God. To do the will of God is the soul's only interest. It matters not, therefore, what name or fame has come, or has been withheld, from the life of Swami Kriyananda, nor yet also, to Ananda, the work he founded in the name of his guru.

Though those close to him would no doubt easily imagine that Swami Kriyananda, free soul or otherwise, will return to help those in need in some future incarnation. But such matters are left to God. Swamiji will be greatly missed but has more than earned his freedom laurels and rest. Those who have known him personally and those many who will know him through others and through the legacy of his work and vibration in generations to come, are deeply grateful.

Adieu great soul, until we find our rest in God alone!

Eternally grateful,

Nayaswami Hriman aka Swami Hrimananda!

P.S. If I have omitted personal reflections or stories of my life and relationship with Kriyananda it is because I deem it not the right time, place, or venue. Perhaps in some other way I might share such experiences.

India Pilgrimage - the Final Episode!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 00:42:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 02:40:00 +0000

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

The City of Kashi: City of the New Dawn!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 04:03:00 +0000

I take something of an Easter break by reflections related to both Easter and Kashi (Varanasi). In my next blog, I will return to our trip to India.

We visited Kashi (Varanasi) recently; an ancient city, hallowed by saints and sages, and uplifted by millions of pilgrims seeking moksha, liberation from endless rounds of birth, life and death. Quite nearby, just outside of town, Buddha gave his first sermon after his enlightenment. In our line of gurus, there lived or came to Kashi Babaji, Lahiri Mahasaya, Swami Sri Yukteswar, and Paramhansa Yogananda. Legend has it that Jesus Christ, too, travelled to India, including Kashi. Few of India’s great sages for the last many thousands of years failed to at least visit Kashi at one time or another. The list of saints and sages who have walked its lanes, bathed at its ghats along the Ganges, and soared in superconsciousness is impossibly long.

We found there in our visit, therefore, a deep sense of continuity and timelessness. Indeed, my reflections this Easter Day, are that from the ancient city of Kashi has been resurrected in our times, through the instrument of Lahiri Mahasaya (at the behest of the peerless Babaji), a wisdom that is timeless, timely, universal and nonsectarian. This wisdom, and the practices which offers to each of us its revelation, has been resurrected in answer to the prayers of millions of sincere souls. Humanity, torn by greed, racism, nationalism and sectarianism, yearns for an antidote, a way out to save ourselves, our planet and our souls.

The city of Kashi (Varanasi) is so ancient that we could have just as easily walked the narrow and crowded lanes of Jerusalem at the time of Jesus Christ. Here we found hawkers selling religious articles, blessings, rituals, indeed, everything but animals for sacrifice! The hubbub is like a page right out of the New Testament.

This Easter, which has jumped up so suddenly upon us (having been in India nearly a month), I am easily transported to the days and life of Christ. At that time, two thousand years ago, the Pax Romana held sway, feeling, for those under its iron feet, like a heavy coat on a hot and sultry day.

Palestine was, like Kashi is still, a hot, dusty place. For the Romans, it was a difficult land to govern, inhabited by a querulous people with odd customs and a cultish religion. A small time preacher appeared in the rule of Caesar Augustus and made a temporary sensation in that land but fell out of favor with religious leaders who prevailed upon their Roman procurator to have this preacher condemned to death by crucifixion. So far as we know there are no records of his mock trial.

Yet, in only three hundred years, followers of this uneducated rabbi conquered the very empire that had once sought to cruelly exterminate them. Into their harsh world of “might makes right,” where human life had little value and the general populace were like slaves and serfs, came the call of God’s love, incarnated into human form, sharing their suffering and brutal life, teaching that each of them is a child of God bound for eternal life! What a revolution! The old pagan gods of Rome and Greek were already dead: made lifeless by their aloofness and capriciousness. There was little hope in that so-called Pax Romana. Only slavery and nonstop political intrigue and war.

But this descent of divine love, in the person of Jesus, carried forward into the Roman world by self-sacrificing disciples was later to merge with that particular form of Roman genius — the rule of law — to produce what was in later centuries was to become the inalienable rights of man and the freedom each person to pursue life, liberty and happiness. Imagine! All from a guy who trod the dusty roads of Palestine and taught on the steps of the Temple of Jerusalem, who was derided and criticized, and finally condemned to an ignoble death.

This respect for the individual has its source in the simple truth that we are a soul, not a body, and, as a soul, we are a reflection, a child, of God. This truth has the been the teaching of the disciples of Christ and, rightly employed by men and women of truth and devotion, it has lit the flame of freedom around the globe.

Oppressed and exploited people in every land have found consolation and hope in a rising tide of consciousness which, today, is considered more political than spiritual but which has power only because of its source in God.

A byproduct of this dawning sense of individuality was made manifest during the European Renaissance period. This further expanded into the age of exploration and then later into the explosion of scientific inquiry, with its fruits later becoming the industrial age, then the age of commerce, the age of energy, and now the age of information.

We have extracted from Mother Nature much of her power and energy, sufficient, unfortunately, to destroy her very gifts, and, ultimately, our lives and that of many creatures and living things.

The time has come and is now for a new dispensation of divine grace and wisdom. A new ray of divine inspiration has come to earth through Paramhansa Yogananda and those who sent him to the West that our powers be harnessed for the good of all, and for the good of our own spiritual freedom.

Paramhansa Yogananda was sent to the West as we entered the twentieth century (a century of unprecedented human slaughter). In this century in earnest saw the dawn of globalization. The era of colonialism was fast outliving its purpose and was, in any case, only a transitional era which set the stage for bringing humanity together.

Now, as we see more and more nations acquiring knowledge, technology, and harnessing their natural resources, brother nations will either face mutual destruction or opt for cooperation and integration.

Interest in and practice of meditation is exploding throughout the world as high-minded souls instinctively go within to find meaning and peace. In the crush of our fast paced planet, where no one creed, philosophy, or lifestyle holds sway over disparate population groups and nations , we know intuitively that truth is within us.

The practice of meditation, and especially the liberating technique of kriya yoga, is encircling the globe in an aureole of in-lighten-ment to offer individuals a direct perception of their divinity.

Like Jesus, Paramhansa Yogananda has begun a quiet and not yet noticeable revolution: Self-realization. Now, to divinity incarnate we can add divinity within. In this way we see all nations, all peoples, races, gender, cultures, creatures and all life as our very own: united by the indwelling presence of God which alone is the only reality behind all seeming.

This teaching has been resurrected for a new age and just in time it is sweeping the globe. Those who draw upon its ray, whether conscious of Yogananda and this line, whether directly practicing the technique of Kriya Yoga which he brought, will find upliftment and some measure of freedom and inner harmony.

Cooperation, simplicity, sustainability, and moderation, united to devotion to God through personal meditation, will be the salvation of humanity and the planet. There is much work to be done and there will be reverses and setbacks and, indeed, great suffering, as the forces of existing power and greed retaliate against the movement that empowers and enlightens individuals throughout the world.

Never miss your daily appointment “with God” in meditation. Some day all of our appointments will have to be cancelled. We don’t know the troubles which lie ahead of us as the world turns ever faster and all sense of security and prosperity hangs upon a slender thread of karma. “The time for knowing God has come!” Yogananda proclaimed.

From the ancient city of Kashi, a new dispensation, a new ray of light has appeared.

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

Ananda Community, Pune, INDIA!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sat, 30 Mar 2013 19:56:00 +0000

Part 3 - Pilgrimage to India - In the Footsteps of the Masters

On Friday, March 8 this year, Padma's birthday, we flew from Kolkata to Pune, stopping briefly in Allahabad.

It was long and windy drive in the bus from the Pune airport to the Ananda Community to the west of Pune city. At the very end we left the main, paved road and proceeded over a gentle river and then a stream to wind our way up a small dusty (red) dirt track along the side of a low range of hills and arrived at the Ananda Community being welcomed and enveloped with smiles and helping hands.

This small and struggling Community has eked out an existence in the hills there against great obstacles, not least of which is an uncertain water supply. A complex of retreat bungalows have been built and at a distance the beginnings of a development of "flats" to be sold to members and friends who might live or visit there.

The temple is an outdoor one, covered in netting but quite serviceable and lovely for meditating. Halfway up the hill is a flat for Swami Kriyananda, staff, and others. The terrain, though challenging, supports a semi-tropical array of trees and plants, yielding bananas, papayas, mangoes, trees, gardens and flowers. Though we arrived in dry season, it was still lush and I understand it turns very green during and after the summer monsoon.

Near the top of the hill, the monks have their "kutirs" (simple huts) and a cave. In the central area nearest the entrance is a small store, reception, offices, and kitchen. Nearby is another office and a delightful cafe and patio where coffee, expresso, ice cream, milk shakes and sandwiches are served for the enjoyment of staff and visitors alike. There one can find wi-fi and chat with virtual friends, or sit and chat with many new and old friends in person. Quite the place!

The highlight of our visit to Ananda Pune was an afternoon satsang, out of doors in a lovely amphitheatre, with Swami Kriyananda. He is the founder of the worldwide network of Ananda communities and is a direct disciple of Paramhansa Yogananda. Not only is he one of the few direct disciples living on earth today, but in fact he has been for decades the most accessible, most creative, and most visible of the disciples serving Yogananda's work.

The land of the Community is terraced in places and especially well developed just below Swami Kriyananda's house (flat). The landscaped terraces form this natural amphitheatre in the hill just below his home. He gave a heartfelt talk and everyone basked in his joy and in the intimacy of his "conversation" with Master and Divine Mother. Here we at last had our living shrine, and not just some stone or artifact worn by or used by a saint--but the real thing. This is the real India: a place where true renunciation and living for God is honored and respected, rather than despised or questioned. Here, too, is where the transmission of spiritual power and grace through living instruments (from guru to disciple) is understood, accepted and honored. Here, then, more than anywhere else in the world, Swami Kriyananda can speak "as no other man has spoken" (to quote the Bible in respect to the observation of listeners of Jesus' sermons). Swamiji, not unlike his guru, Paramhansa Yogananda, wears the timeless wisdom of Sanaatan Dharma like a familiar, old coat and speaks of it like an old friend!

In the evening, he joined us in the amphitheatre under the stars to enjoy a concert of music from around the world! Both events were just magical and transported the devotees to a timeless space, to another dimension where saints and devotees commingled with ease and with joy. It was like entering a different world: it was safe, happy, beautiful, and filled with radiant joy and inner peace. This was India: guru to the planet: bestowing its ray of light outward to all truth-seekers, giving comfort and wisdom to all in need.

Our time there was peaceful in other respects too, for there are no honking cars, no near-fatal encounters with moving vehicles, no choking fumes, and no need to be on the traveller's constant guard. The home cooked food was a blend of Indian and western and was simple and tasty. Accommodations were rustic and, with some exceptions, adequate (there were so many of us that about ten had to be lodged down the road at a nearby "camp"). Water was in serious short supply, however. It has to be trucked, several times a day, from a nearby stream and pumped into water tanks on the land. There was never enough for showers and so on. This was challenging for the fact that the daily high temperature was mid to upper 90's and dust was everywhere, or, at least all over one's feet and pants. Though it was hot in the midday sun, it was delightful at dusk and in the evenings, and by daybreak, it could even still have a little nip of cold.

One night, however, was the annual India-wide celebration of Shiva (known as Shivaratri) and local villagers used the opportunity to party all night raucously. If there was any devotion in their noise, I missed it. Sigh. Some of our pilgrims had little sleep that night, unfortunately.

What Ananda members, both Indian and American (and European) have accomplished in manifesting a community and retreat out of "pure" red dirt is a testimony to will power, dedication, creativity and divine grace! Yet, they have yet a long way to go. At minimum is needed a long-term secure source of water. Movement is afoot to bring a pipeline in but it's not there yet and land disputes and theft (yes, including water theft) are rampant and endemic. Most visitors, at least from America, make the obvious and appropriate comparisons to the state of Ananda's original community, Ananda Village, in the Sierra Nevada foothills some thirty years ago. Who could imagined how beautiful that community was to become from its state during the '70's and '80's!

At last, our few days there in the peace and quiet of the Pune hills was over. At the break of dawn on Monday, March 11, the serviceful monks hefted our luggage onto the bus as we, after a quick breakfast, began our journey by bus and air back to Delhi.

Now we are on to India's holiest city, Varanasi, known by its spiritual name, Kashi. This city was to prove our greatest challenge and yet one of our most inspired visits. It was to prove to be action-packed and a revelation of timeless intensity.

See you in Kashi!

Nayaswami Hriman

Kolkata: Home of Saints, Avatars, Poets, Scientists & Revolutionaries

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 16:25:00 +0000

Part 2 in Pilgrimage to India series:

In the pre-dawn darkness we boarded the train from Puri to Kolkata: the same train and tracks that Paramhansa Yogananda and his guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar, would have taken together from about 1910 to 1920. (Sri Yukteswar would have gone there from 1903 to 1936 by train.)

Yes, indeed, the train looked like it was the same one, too. You couldn't open the windows or even really see out of the train windows and the bathroom was simply a hole in the floor: need I say more? It was, however, air conditioned, but even that was mostly an affirmation. For nearly eight hours we rode north along the coast and inland before arriving at Howrah Railway Station, Calcutta: perhaps India's greatest and largest and most famous railway station. Here Lahiri Mahasaya, Paramhansa Yogananda, Swami Sri Yukteswar, innumerable devotees and perhaps even Ramakrishna and most certain his great disciple, Vivekananda, and also Ananda Moyi Ma would have boarded and exited trains!

But Howrah was surprisingly tidy and quiet: not at all what I expected. There's an old building, where we de-trained, and a newer one. The rail yards are quite large and extensive. We boarded our tour bus but instead of crossing the Hoogli River into Calcutta by the Howrah Bridge, we circled around and entered the city across a brand new, modern suspension bridge to soon arrive at our hotel, the lovely and welcoming Kenilworth. (The Hoogli River is a branch of the Ganges as she splits apart to become the "mouths" of the Ganges flowing into the sea. For our purposes and that of most Indians, she is the Ganges!)

Fresh from the train ("a euphemism, merely, we were covered with soot" -- Autobiography of a Yogi), we soon got back on the bus (after depositing ourselves in the lovely and refreshing Kenilworth Hotel) to visit Yogananda's increasingly famous boyhood home at 4 Garpar Road, Calcutta. Somnath, the husband of Sarita (they have two grown daughers), is descended from Yogananda's younger brother, a well known artist in his own right, Sananda Lal Ghosh. The family, with assistance from devotees, have restored and now maintain the home for the purposes of serving devotees from all over the world. Treasures in photos and paintings (including colorized photos), personal belongings and of course a place of pilgrimage await all who come with devotion. Yogananda's bedroom; his attic meditation room; the spot where Babaji stood to bless his journey to the West....this and much more bring the great guru to life in his youthful vitality.

We had two visits there; the second one came three days later, on March 7, the day that commemorates Yogananda's "mahasamadhi" (conscious exit from his physical body). (On that day in 1952 in a crowded banquet room of the Biltmore Hotel in Los Angeles, Yogananda left this world speaking of his India and his America!)

So we chanted and meditated, taking turns meditating in Yogananda's bedroom and in his attic meditation room while having our central spot in the upstairs living room. On March 7, we had a discipleship renewal ceremony. All told, I think I can speak for most of us in saying this home was one of the trip's many highlights. The family served a catered lunch to us on that Thursday, March 7 and shared some time-honored stories of Yogananda's upbringing.

On March 5, the day after our arrival and after our first visit to Garpar Road, we visited the home of Yogananda's boyhood friend: Tulsi Bose. It is down the block and around the corner. You could never imagine it being what it really is: one of India's most precious shrines, but unknown to all of India and the world. For reasons of destiny, Yogananda's own home contained too large a family and was too busy a place for his youthful spiritual search. Divine Mother caused him to seek and meet young Tulsi Bose, whose home was quieter and better suited for satsang (spiritual gatherings), although considerably smaller. Master (Yogananda) spent much time there both as a high school and college student but also upon his only return visit to India, spanning 1935-1936. Stories from family and friends abound, for Yogananda's return to India was a big sensation throughout India but most certainly in Bengal: local boy does good! He was as much a spiritual sensation and sought-after speaker in India as he had been during his barnstorming days in America in the Twenties and Thirties.

There is what is now an old somewhat fragile guest chair in the tiny (12' x 15' ?) downstairs living room where the likes of Yogananda, Sri Yukteswar, perhaps Lahiri Mahasaya, plus one or more of Lahiri's most advanced disciples, Swami Vivekananda, anyone?, and who knows how many other saints (and I think that includes Ananda Moyi Ma, and maybe even Ramakrishna's widow, Sharda Devi?), had sat and where chanting, meditation, and high spiritual experiences, too numerous to attempt to catalogue here, had taken place. Just try sitting in that chair: a kind of "electric" chair! But be careful: it is very fragile!

Upstairs is the tiger skin that Sri Yukteswar meditated upon; plus the deerskin of Yogananda and the bed where they had slept at various visits. We took turns sitting on these to meditate! In an tiny upstairs meditation room are relics so numerous they've yet to be classified. One that stands out for most of us is an iron trident said to be given by Babaji to Lahiri, Lahiri to Sri Yukteswar, S.Y. to Master, and Master, having left it with Tulsi! The trident is the symbol of Shiva! Talk about "power."

I doubt anyone left there empty-hearted: awe-struck, at minimum, inwardly quiet and blissful, probably. And over all this tiny domain their reigns a queen of hearts, a custodian-saint worthy of the privilege: Tulsi's now elderly daughter, Hassi Mukherjee. Hassi was blessed by Master in 1936 when Hassi's mother, Tulsi's wife (chosen for him by Master), was pregnant. Years later Hassi, as a young girl, spoke to Master in Los Angeles by telephone when he would ring up to see how the family was doing. Master always watched over his extended, human family, even from afar, in America.

After a catered lunch in this tiny home, we motored to the nearby Dakshineswar Temple, home of Ramakrishna's life-long lila (life drama) -- as resident "avatar!" We chanted on the very spot in the portico opposite the statue of Divine Mother (Goddess Kali), where Master had an experience of Divine Mother as he describes in his autobiography. We watched the sunset across the Hoogli and meditated in the bedroom where Ramakrishna lived for 30 years.

What a day that was!

Calcutta has an interesting role in the history of modern India: from the mid to late 19th century until about the 1930's (as I understand it), West Bengal spawned a rise in nationalism and national and cultural pride through the genius and courage of such great souls as Rabindranath Tagore (poet laureate), J.C. Bose (scientist), reformers of Hinduism, revolutionaries, and, of course, an entire line of avatars! For those interested in historical matters, and who find synchronicity fascinating, it is well worth researching.

Wednesday, March 6, we crossed the Hoogli and went upriver to the town of Serampore: actually, Sri Ram Pur (city): site of Swami Sri Yukteswar's home. The home is mostly gone and now off limits to visitors, being occupied by what we assume are his descendants. Instead, there is a small shrine next door where we meditated for a while.

Then we walked through the ancient and quaint lanes to the riverside to the Rai Ghat, where Babaji once appeared to Sri Yukteswar to congratulate him on the completion of his book, The Holy Science. (Babaji had asked and commissioned S.Y. to write this tome which was intended to announce the basic message of these avatars: that the underlying message of Christ and Krishna, of Christianity and Hinduism, is the same.)

At this bathing ghat, too, did S.Y. and his disciple, Paramhansa Yogananda, would come in the early morning to bathe in the Ganges. Here we sat around the aged banyan (where Babaji and his band had stood to greet S.Y.), and chanted joyfully as throngs of locals pressed forward in curiosity. The experience was exhilarating. What a contrast between our hearts and minds and the mundane scene and thoughts of those around us. Presumably they did not understand our joy, though I would guess they have become somewhat accustomed to these groups of Westerners (and Indians) coming throughout the year to sit under the banyan tree and meditate.

These simple shrines and places specific to Yogananda and his line are yet to be particularly of note to modern Indian culture. Thus their seeming invisibility to the culture contrasts sharply with the intensity of feeling and magnetic draw they have for certain souls from around India and the world.

Then we crossed town to visit with the descendants of Master's elder brother, Ananta. Durlov, his wife, and his son greeted us and feed us a delightful lunch and regaled us to with family stories. Ananda members had, some years ago, intervened to help the family (in the spirit of Yogananda, himself, who always assisted his large, biological family, when in need) find a suitable place to live.

Next stop: Swami Kriyananda at Ananda Community, Pune! Pack your bags, we are off again!

Return to Babaji's Cave - Pilgrimage to India

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 23:40:00 +0000

This is a first in a series of articles about the 3 weeks a group of pilgrims from Ananda spent in India. For the sake of brevity, I won't make a special effort to describe the saints whose "lives" (vibration) we were seeking, but I will name them: Paramhansa Yogananda (1893-1952); Swami Sri Yukteswar (died 1936); Lahiri Mahasaya (died 1895); and the peerless Babaji (stats unknown). Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramhansa Yogananda, is the now-famous classic spiritual account of the lives of these great souls.

I suppose none of my readers would seriously question the spiritual value of pilgrimage. After all, seekers have gone on pilgrimage since time immemorial. In former times a pilgrim might walk for months, perhaps never to return home, in order to reach a sacred shrine or place.

Just as some people are more intelligent than others, and some places on earth exceedingly beautiful, so there are places on earth that hold spiritual "vibrations." Just as, to a degree, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," so also no specific pilgrimage site is going to inspire every seeker, even those of the same faith. It takes a certain sensitivity of consciousness and intention to tune into the "feeling" of a place, more so for spiritual vibrations. (The "feeling" or atmosphere of a nightclub, for example, although obvious, tangible and very specific in its allure and magnetism, takes little refinement of consciousness to experience.)

As there are people with spiritual power so there are places where their vibrations linger, sometimes having been bestowed purposely by them for the benefit of others. Paramhansa Yogananda said of his English language chants (a new form of chanting), "I spiritualized these chants by chanting each until I received a divine response." He did this so that devotees could extract from these chants spiritual blessings when chanted with a pure and open heart.

A saintly person may shop in the market and bump into you but without the consciousness of sanctity you will probably only be annoyed. It is, therefore, not merely a matter of expectations and desires on the part of the pilgrim, but a matter of sensitive awareness, also called "attunement."

Yes, it is true, that someone of a more emotional or imaginative nature may imagine he or she has felt some great spiritual power or had some deeply moving inner experience at a given shrine or in the presence of a saintly person. We can't help that. But the spiritual blessings of pilgrimage, real or imagined, has survived even the great age of skepticism in which we live. The other extreme is that sometimes a pilgrim is disappointed and even disillusioned when his (probably false) expectations of healing or upliftment are not met. This fact might not indicate a dearth of available blessings so much as a relative lack of purity of intention. A true pilgrim is not a thrill seeker nor yet a merchant who bargains and offers to exchange his effort in time and money and discomfort for spiritual highs.

A pilgrim receives blessings in proportion to the purity of his search and the intensity of his effort. These are tested by obstacles both before his journey as well as during. The pilgrim is expected to endure hardship and perhaps commit his life savings (well, ok, a chunk of dough!) and to do so with a humble faith in divine Providence. The journey will expose one to dangers, threats, thrills, insights, laughter, tears, and the entire panoply of birth, life, death and every type of person. Blessings must not be sought in consolation or experiences but in purification. If some spiritual grace is received, then it is treasured, usually silently. Transformation may come after one's return, or in the years that follow. One must have no expectations; one must set aside fear; and walk the dusty path to the mountain of Light that calls us. It is both a symbol and a journey of faith.

Let us, now, then, return to our pilgrimage. We called it, "In the footsteps of the Masters." It was perhaps a year ago that we announced our intention and began taking sign-ups. We were happily surprised to have most of the available positions accounted for by mid or late summer (about 33 seats) of 2012.

Tour leaders Keshava and Daya Taylor, based in Delhi at the Ananda Ashram there, have led many groups to these places which are held dear to devotees of Paramhansa Yogananda. In turn they work with a local Indian tour company for the logistics of travel, meals, transportation, and lodging. At a distance and using the SKYPE video phone service and countless emails, Padma and I honed the itinerary to accomplish our goals.

We arrived in Delhi, India in the pre-dawn hours of Thursday, February 28 and departed in the early hours of March 22. So we were in India some twenty-two days, call it three weeks plus two days of travel.

Delhi, as other major cities in India, has a brand new airport which provides some measure of familiarity for the first time visitor from the West. Gone is the stifling hot, not very clean, extremely crowded terminal which stood in positive contrast to the scene one had to enter upon exiting the airport: a mob of eager porters and taxi cab drivers.

Instead we went efficiently through customs and baggage claim and were met calmly by our tour leader, Keshava, who then guided us serenely to an awaiting, very modern, air conditioned bus which took us immediately to the Southgate Hotel (in south Delhi). We were of course tired, but energized as well. With a minimum of fuss in the pre-dawn darkness we got our room keys and quickly scrambled to our rooms to sleep before bursting forth into Delhi upon our first day!

We were given the morning to rest (one could go downstairs to breakfast) and gathered together mid-day to bus a short distance to the Ananda Center and Ashram. Our hotel is in the Green Park district of south Delhi and is a thriving middle-class neighborhood comfortable to walk and shop. Now, when I say "comfortable" one has to understand that the traffic moves on the left side, not right side and there are sometimes no sidewalks. The streets are shared by pedestrians, cows, auto-rickshaws (3-wheeled taxi's fueled by natural gas), cars and trucks. But in this neighborhood the level of street intensity is positively calm compared to bigger city streets and most cities and highways in India.

The Ananda Center was recently acquired (rented) and is quite lovely: an oasis, in fact, with a vegetable garden, postage stamp lawn, and a lovely home and out building used for an office, small shop, and kitchen. There we were served lunch and had our first official "sharing" and gathering. Then off to a nearby craft market called Dilli Haat for our first adventure in bargaining and shopping for clothes, scarfs and fabrics. Daytime sun was hot but not too bad for Seattle-ites fresh from winter weather.

That evening we gathered at a nearby south Indian restaurant in Green Park and enjoyed a lovely and lively meal together. By meal's end, we were ready for bed! And here's another reason why...........

We were up by 3 a.m. to leave at 4:15 a.m. for the Delhi airport. There we boarded a plane heading southeast to Bhubaneswar: gateway to the seaside city of Puri, our destination. (Our time change was such that India was 13.5 hours earlier than Seattle. Our crazy schedule and the intense and new environment we entered masked the affects of jet lag to some degree.)

En route to Puri from the Bhubaneswar airport we encountered a more tropical landscape: lush, green, ponds with water buffalo, banana trees, plantations and lots of cheerful colors. We stopped in a small village to shop for local crafts, and then continued on to the Coco Palms Resort on the beach in Puri. This was an eye popper for many of us, who, at home, would never go to such a luxurious beach resort (well, some wouldn't, anyway). But, all things considered, I heard no complaints!

Hotel staff greeted us as we mounted the steps with marigold garlands and young coconuts with a straw to drink their delicious, natural refreshment from! From the registration lobby and patio, we were visually greeted by a beautiful, pure, clean, see-through and bluish large swimming pool in the center of the courtyard. The sound and sight of the crashing ocean surf came to us in the near distance past an expanse of friendly, welcoming beach. Palm trees ring the pool.

After getting settled and having lunch, we strolled up the beach toward the center of town. As you approach the center of town the beach becomes very crowded. Gaily decked camels patrol the beach looking for tourists brave enough to take a ride. Puri is a "temple city" for its claim to fame is the ancient Jagannath Temple. The Temple and grounds are quite large and throughout the city are numerous ashrams, monasteries, and other religious institutions. It is the seat of the one of the few authority figures central to orthodox Hinduism and is one of the seven holy cities of India (of which the first is Kashi, or Varanasi). But it is also simply a beach resort town, even for Indians!

For us, then, also it served both purposes: pleasure and piety! Its spiritual significance lay not in the grounds of the Jagannath Temple, but in the fact that Swami Sri Yukteswar established in 1903 what he called the Kararashram (Karar was his last name). Here Sri Yukteswar would take his young disciples, including of course Paramhansa Yogananda, for the summer. Yogananda told several stories in his famous "Autobiography of a Yogi" which took place there. Sri Yukteswar left his body, March 9, 1936, at his ashram. Yogananda rushed there (his only return visit to India after he left in 1920), arriving a day late, and then buried his guru (seated in lotus pose) in the Puri sands on the ashram grounds. Years later, American disciples funded the construction of a "samadhi mandir" (a shrine) over the top of Yukteswar's grave. I believe Yogananda's artist-brother, Sananda, designed the small building and it is quite lovely.

Unfortunately decades of lawsuits have clouded its ownership but fortunately devotees are still welcomed and so it was that after lunch we walked there to meditate. The hermitage is off limits to us and over the decades the growing seaside resort has completely eclipsed the ashram's former view of the sea and hemmed it in with apartments and other buildings. But despite the noises of the neighbors and their multifarious activities which pressed upon us, we chanted and meditated in the tiny shrine, on the covered portico around it, and in the surrounding gardens. As this was our first real spiritual experience, I think many of us were deeply touched. It was, however, also exceedingly hot at mid-day. One would meditate with perspiration silently pouring off one's body. At one point I choose a meditation seat in the shade under a tree in a dry water basin only to encounter seriously disturbed flies and mosquitoes. I surrendered back to them my seat. Still, I enjoyed the experience very much. I felt a deep stillness.

Later at the resort, a buffet dinner was served on the lawn after sunset. It was delightful and very relaxing.

The next day, Saturday, March 2, we energized and meditated on the beach at sunrise. It was wonderful. We were, however, surrounded by local spectators, even at that early hour. One simply had to ignore them. (I figured that we come with cameras and take photos of them; why can't they take photos of us?)

After breakfast we once again walked up the beach into town and back to the Kararashram for more meditation. We then walked further through the crowded and narrow lanes to an ashram established by a direct disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya (Sri Yukteswar's guru): that disciple's name was Bhupendra Nath Sanyal ("Sanyal Mahasaya"). There in a tiny shrine are contained some of Lahiri's ashes. We meditated before the shrine and also upstairs in the saint's bedroom. This, too, was very uplifting.

Those who were up for it then walked into the center of town and opposite the great Jagannath Temple where we had a delicious midday meal. (Non-Hindus are not allowed in the Temple: one of the few such restricted temples in India). After lunch, our Indian guide, Bijaya, gave a talk on the history of the temple. The temple grounds are enormous and contain many buildings. They have an huge kitchen that feeds thousands upon thousands everyday. Pilgrims enter and pay for the meals (for others). We were told that this temple, though holy, is managed with a somewhat commercial air.

I want to take a pause to explain that our own Ananda Seattle yoga teacher, Murali Venkatrao, who is from Bangalore, came and served in the capacity of what we teasingly called our "cultural attache." In this role he shined for he could explain things in our terms and yet with a true and accurate knowledge of the orthodox Hinduism in which he was raised. Speaking Hindi, inter alia, he helped us innumerable times with bargaining or understanding customs and behavior. He therefore visited the temple precincts and inner sanctum (where the "deities," statues, reside) and brought to us blessed food (small candies). The deities are Jagannath (in the form Krishna, Krishna's brother, and their sister). They are famous because their faces look like something out of Southpark cartoon (large eyes, pastel colors), though of course impossibly ancient. To westeners they look very strange but yet charming, too, as in innocent and archetypal. They are made from the wood of the neem tree and replaced at certain intervals.

As a beach town, I didn't notice any high rise buildings, whether commercial or residential. It is an ancient city. Its lanes are quite narrow, usually unpaved (and thus sandy). Like much of India it is a row after row of tiny shops facing the street and selling everything imaginable. Buildings are concrete or something like adobe and generally only one, or perhaps two, stories. Hotels and similar establishments might rise higher to get a beach view. But the city has a very authentic and genuine, which is to say, not too modern, feel to it. Several times a year, the biggest in July, it is crushed by pilgrims. Fortunately when we visited it was relatively quiet.

In groups of three or four, we motored by auto-rickshaw back to Coco Palms. It was an afternoon to relax on our own. I body-surfed but got creamed by a wave, face down in the sand. For four or five days I had a bright red nose and cuts on my elbows. I looked beat up but felt nothing at all! ? ! Badri lost a valuable arm bracelet with precious stones in it when a wave literally tore it off his arm! Others had a sunset yoga session on the beach!

Sunday, March 3 was even more laid-back. Morning yoga and meditation once again on the beach! Mid-morning meditation at the Kararashram again but the rest of the day free until sunset when we had a chanting (kirtan) session and meditation once again on the beach. Buffet dinner under the stars welcomed us silently into the night.

These relatively restful days were to prepare us for the more intense schedules to come. By now jet lag was past. Puri combines relaxation, fresh ocean air and surf, and sacredness in such a natural way that one feels easily at peace. Though in most respects the city is as bustling as any other Indian city, it also feels free and more relaxed: perhaps part of the divine blessings which one receives. It was easy to feel at home there and to day-dream of Ananda ashram in Puri to inspire and refresh pilgrims the world over! It was here that our personal connections began to build. Along the beach we shopped at stalls and in one we found pure, home-spun ready-made garments (ala Gandhi spinning wheel).

So, let's pause here before our early morning boarding of our train north to Kolkata, where the word "relax" doesn't exist.

"All aboard! Next stop, the famous Howrah Railway Station, Calcutta!"

Hriman

A Letter to a friend………What does it mean to be “spiritual?”

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 05:09:00 +0000

A Letter to a friend………What does it mean to be “spiritual?”

Dear Friend,

You are not alone in imagining that to be a spiritual person means to be loving and kind. What else, after all, could it mean? How can being spiritual be anything other than loving and kind?

You speak often of drawing inspiration from others more spiritual than yourself, and of wanting to be around such persons, whether “in-person,” or by reading or online. It is right to recognize the spiritual qualities of others and to seek to draw from them such qualities by association, support, respect, and service.

My concern for you (and others like yourself) in your admiration for the better qualities of others is that you may be tempted to substitute your admiration for the work you must do to acquire those qualities in yourself. Further, such “looking at others” may provide a shield whereby you can judge people without having to work on yourself. Anyone who, in your view, treats you with what you deem to be unkindness or absent a loving attitude is simply dismissed as “not spiritual.” Never mind that you might be attracting such treatment by your own lack of kindness or love for others. Never mind, further, that those whom you admire are either dead or at least nowhere near you. By contrast those whom you dismiss for lack of spiritual qualities are rather too near, as it were (though not too dear!).

Truth is: living with saints and those of higher consciousness is never comfortable. Some saints are very strict but even those who are known to be loving and gentle are experienced differently by followers who live with and around them in close proximity. One doesn’t become a saint by lack of will power, strength and commitment. A saint doesn’t have to scold: his or her very life, vibration, consciousness, and presence is like a strong spotlight that shows the flaws of nearby objects. Between the extremes of strictness and gentleness is a wide range of spiritual people, on various levels of Self-realization, who are very much human beings, both because of, and in spite of, their spiritual realization.

My teacher, Swami Kriyananda, is a good example of this. Most people see him, especially now at this final stage of life, filled with bliss, joy, and love for all. In fact, he’s always been this way but in his younger, work-building years, he had to be more engaged, executive, administrative, guiding and training many, many people. It wasn’t feasible for him to relax into the Spirit openly because he had a divine work to do. Nonetheless, even in those years one could feel the power of divine love, human kindness, and spiritual wisdom in his presence. But whether now in his “bliss years,” or then, in his “barnstorming years,” it is never “easy” to be around him for more than a mere visit or satsang. The very intensity of his consciousness precludes familiarity or subconscious relaxation, mental, emotional or otherwise. Mindfulness and Presence emanate from him and one becomes innately more self-aware in speaking or acting. Time slows down. Few people can take that intensity for very long. He doesn’t have to “judge you.” You feel the pangs of your own conscience for any thoughts or attitudes that are less than uplifted and expansive.

The love one feels from a saint is a power, not a mere sentiment. Divine love, we are told, has created us and has created this magnificent universe. What greater power can there be? It is this power, and its inseparable companion, joy, that makes a saint so magnetic. Be not like the earth which resists the gravitational pull of the sun by its own centrifugal force. As you yield, however, to the sun's magnetic power it will burn up and purify your attachments and ego: so ego beware! Sadhu, behold!

A true and mature devotee, therefore, doesn’t postpone his or her spiritual growth by dismissing the “slings and arrows” of daily interaction and misunderstandings. A devotee doesn’t avoid the spiritual “issue” and opportunity for self-reflection by jumping into the mud puddle of judging others whenever, to your view, another person, especially another devotee, reprimands or otherwise behaves in ways not to your ego’s likings. To the devotee, all people and especially one’s gurubhais, are no less than the “guru” him (or her)-self speaking.

Dismissing those around you as “less than spiritual” is not the way to develop the magnetism to attract a true guru into your life: whether this current incarnation or a future one. Seeing God’s presence in everyone around you, however, IS! (If the reader prefers to substitute “to grow spiritually in” for “to attract a true guru into” it is good enough.)

It is the ego that rejects distasteful experiences or other people as “unspiritual.” Moreover, it is a not very clever ruse to avoid the issue of learning one’s own lessons. Sometimes that lesson is simply to learn to not “dismiss.” More likely, however, there is something to learn in the “facts of the case.”

Take more thoughtfully and less reactively, therefore, the daily interactions of others as coming to you for your own spiritual growth. Take from the saints and others and through your admiration for them, their qualities and lessons into your own life. Be a saint, too! Don’t merely peer through the pages of a book or the windows of a “church,” but enter in and make those qualities, that saint, your very Self. For that, more than anything, is the truth “that shall make you free.”

To be a Christ you must be the “Imitation of Christ” (a famous book by Thomas a Kempis). The more you see the “Christ” in others, the more of a “Christ” you will be.

It is my fondest wish for you to be free and if these thoughts contribute even insignificantly to that, I will be satisfied.

Your very Self,

Nayaswami Hriman

(This “letter” was neither written nor sent to any specific friend…………..there is no value, therefore, in speculation, only introspection!)

The "Law" of Love!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sun, 17 Feb 2013 07:23:00 +0000

Love is the law!

In a week, 34 of us leave for India. We will visit places where Paramhansa Yogananda lived, the holy city of Benares, a Himalayan cave, the Taj Mahal, the Ananda center in Delhi, and Swami Kriyananda at the Ananda Community in Pune.

Now we are full of eager anticipation but we hope to return in late March with our hearts as full as our luggage! Pilgrimage is an ancient tradition. It is a rite of purification and carries the hope of spiritual rebirth. Where God has come to earth and shared our human drama through the souls of those who are fully realized as His children, spiritual and purifying vibrations linger yet still. They are activated by the loving hearts of His devotees and a channel of grace thus remains open at such places through which divine blessings flow.

So too the life of Jesus though long ago remains fresh and alive to those “with ears to hear” and hearts that love. The New Testament portrays Jesus Christ as both compassionate and forgiving, but also sharp and unforgiving toward the hypocrites and exploiters of others. “Be ye wise as serpents but harmless as doves” he is quoted as saying.

Natural and moral law imposes upon the awakened conscience of sensitive and intelligent humans relatively clear guidance as to how to live and be healthy, happy and at peace with oneself. It’s not complicated, though, given the temptations life affords, it’s also not necessarily easy.

With hard work you can get a good education, a decent job, attract a satisfactory life partner and more or less, with some luck and a lot of “steel on the wheel,” enjoy the “good life.” But it’s a narrow pathway and you’d best not go overboard with any of life’s pleasures and indulgences and you’d be “better be good, for goodness’ sake!”

You don’t need religion to feel in tune with the Golden Rule and to be a basically good, hard working, unselfish, and decent person. But if you depend only upon your own pluck and luck to keep it together, you’ll always be looking over your shoulder lest the shadow of misfortune be pursuing you. You’ll never know when the axe comes down on your comfortable life. And if it does, where will you be then?

Jesus was criticized by those pesky ‘ol priestly Pharisees, hypocrites and “white sepulcres” (whitewashed on the outside but nothing but a rotting corpse on the inside!). He dined with the down and out and the sinners of his time. A woman, a known “sinner,” hearing that he was at the house of a rich but notorious villager, came and wept at his feet, anointing Jesus’ feet with costly oil. Jesus explained that he came not to heal the healthy but those ill with the disease of delusion. He said, simply, that “her sins, though many, are forgiven, for she has loved much!”

I doubt the “loving” to which he referred to was in relation to her “sinning.” No, her love was her recognition of her unworthiness in relation to her recognition of his sacred and divine vibration as her only salvation. In this she showed herself above Jesus’ host that evening who failed to conduct even the most rudimentary gestures of honor and hospitality to Jesus.

The poignant story of the centurion who, loving as he did so greatly his own servant, and having an intuitive recognition of Jesus’ spiritual power and presence sent someone to ask that Jesus heal his servant. The centurion knew that it was taboo for Jesus (a Jew) to enter the home of a Roman and stated simply that “You need but say the Word, and my servant will be healed!” Jesus was astonished at the faith of this Roman, when so few of his countrymen could come close to doing the same.

And for the woman caught in adultery, Jesus asked the gathering crowd (eager to stone her to death in accordance with the law), “He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone.” One by one they walked away. When only she remained there with Jesus, he said, “Neither do I judge thee. Go and sin no more.”

In his final hours before his crucifixion, he spoke to his disciples as friends and commanded them to love one another as he had loved them.

Jesus’ life displayed little regard for the niceties of rite and rituals. He wasn’t against such things for he, too, went to the temple at feast days. But he lived and roamed the countryside telling stories of God’s love and forgiveness. But He was not merely a preacher. He was practical and forgave not just “sins,” but illnesses and diseases, even, in a few instances, the fatal disease of death.

Paramhansa Yogananda has come into this new and modern age with a message and mission for a culture of people of greater sophistication, education, opportunity and interests than those of Jesus’ time. But we are frenzied and much burdened with restlessness. To us he brings the peace of meditation; the comfort of God’s presence within ourselves. The antidote for the confusion and complexity of our age is found in the temple of silence within. There, in the only true temple there is, we can commune in peace and love with our God.

True “communion” is an act of love. Yogananda said “You must make love to God!” And when the time came for him to leave this earth he gave this counsel: “Only love can take my place.”

The only true love we can have for one another is the love of God. For it arises not from desire or attachment but from the wellspring of divine and unconditional love within.

Our is a democratic age. Cooperation and friendship are the way to find fulfillment and to stave off the ill effects of ruthless competition and destructive nationalism. This cannot be merely the behavior of a merchant, seeking a mutual benefit society. To be lasting and to be satisfying, it must arise from the natural love of the heart. God, in our age, will be seen not so much as Lord and Savior, but as our divine friend. By extension, therefore, we would do well to see all people as our divine friends.

Swami Kriyananda has commented that the primary reason to love is because by loving we find greater happiness than by hating, resenting, or refusing to forgive. But we cannot love everyone in a merely human way, for we find a natural affinity to some and a spontaneous antipathy towards others. Divine love expressed outwardly will often be seen more as respect, fairness, forbearance, and cooperation. It is not merely an act of will but an outpouring from within.

“If ye be my disciples, love one another!”

Let us take these words of Jesus to heart.

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

Why does God permit suffering?

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 04:09:00 +0000

As part of a team of members who respond to questions from all over the world on behalf of the Ananda Worldwide Ministry, some questions get directed to me for a response. Today there came a classic question, "Why does God permit suffering." We are here in human form to discover the mysteries of our existence. Some who have gone before us have solved the riddles of life. Great souls such as Buddha, Krishna, and, in our time, Paramhansa Yogananda (author of the worldwide classic, "Autobiography of a Yogi").

When I first saw this question this afternoon, I thought, "Oh heavens, how am I supposed to say anything meaningful on so deep a question?" Often those who ask have suffered greatly: directly or through the loss of loved ones. There was no hint in the question that the person who wrote in to the website was especially or deeply hurt personally, but it is often the case when this question is asked.

So I penned below a response as best I could. Much more could be added but it is such a universal and important question, I thought to share the response with others:

RESPONSE (later "enhanced"):

Dear Friend,

You have asked the ages-old paradox that all compassionate and thoughtful people must ask: "Why does God (who is all Good), permit suffering?"

Is a parent negligent who permits his child to go to school where he may encounter bullies or simply other students who might harangue, insult or even fight with him? Is a parent negligent who permits his son to go to war, perhaps to return crippled for life, or to never return?

God is not the cause of suffering. Whatever else God is, we must do what we can to deal responsibly with our suffering, our grief, or the travails of others. Why should we imagine, especially in our grief and pain, that we can understand the mind of God? This universe is vast and we are complex creatures. Let us not look afar to cast blame but be practical and do what we can to improve our or others' situation.

A God's eye view of humanity reveals that we humans only think of God when we are in need. Left to our own, we prefer to revel in the the gifts and pleasures of His creation rather than to see these as but His gifts. Few receive His gifts with gratitude and love for the Giver. Fewer still can receive life's hardships as HIs gifts, given to purify our attachments or teach us valuable soul lessons.

Instead, if we have too little, we want more; if we have much, we want more. We are never satisfied even when sated. We burn with disquietude, wondering all along "What's wrong with this picture?" "Who is to blame?" 99.9% of humanity is too busy chasing pleasure, happiness, security, recognition (or avoiding or getting over their opposites).

Still, I must concede that those who suffer all too often and all too much are the innocent. But among life's many questions, can we ever really answer the questions that start with "Why?" Why was I born poor, rich, healthy, ill, luck or unfortunate? As suffering obviously happens and too often to those who do not deserve it, we cannot help but ask "Why" and wonder "Who is to blame."

Our instincts are well placed, however: someone indeed has to be blamed! For if there is not cosmic justice, no inexorable law of cause and effect, our universe, both outward (material) and inward (moral), will go up in flames of chaos, anger, violence and rebellion.

The questioner also asked whether, given the suffering in the world, "Why does He destroy the whole thing?"

Yes, God could dissolve this creation; some say, in fact, that he does every 4 billion years or so (like night and day cycles). But then it just continues later. Let us step back, however, towards the "big picture."

God is the novelist, the playwright, who sets into motion a grand drama whose purpose is to entertain and to play the divine romance of "hide 'n seek." He doesn't want us to suffer but if the show is to go on He can't simply make us puppets and pull all the strings. The show would be a sham. He is hoping his children will wake up and seek Him behind the curtain of maya but the show won't work unless he gives us both the freedom to choose, and at the same time, makes the drama of life real and enticing enough to make it unique and dramatic. As a result, He knows that it is difficult to "find Him."

We think of life in terms of our physical body. It lives a mere 80 years. Yet this universe has existed for untold billions of years and consists, we are told, of an estimated 200 billion galaxies. Maybe, therefore, we need to take a longer view. If there is no known center of the universe (and even if there were, what difference would it make to me), maybe the real center is, as Jesus said it is, "within you?"

Maybe as the great sages have averred and as thousands of lives have offered tangible proof or hints of, we have lived for many lives: indeed, many more lives than we can even imagine. We can't imagine 200 billion galaxies, so of course it would be extremely difficult to imagine thousands, even billions, of lives. It is taught that we have come up through the stages of evolution. Paramhansa Yogananda even said he could recall an incarnation as a diamond!

So could the cause for suffering, even for those who otherwise appear (in this lifetime) as innocent, be traced to a distant past? With so many lives, who can imagine we've been "saints" the whole time? "There but for the grace of God, go I!" Can you not imagine being a criminal? A murderer?

In the Old Testament Book of Job, Job was a righteous man. But Satan made a bet (imagine!) with God, that deprived of his health, family, wealth, and respect, he would denounce God.......just like so many people do when suffering. Job passed the test and remained faithful to God. This story, weird as it may seem, suggests to us that some of our tests may be permitted in order to test and purify our love for God. These reflect our relationship with God and are as much God's grace as His consolation and inner peace, or other many gifts of the Spirit, are.

Paramhansa Yogananda taught that "all conditions are neutral; it is our reaction to them that determines our happiness, our wisdom, and our peace of mind." Remaining in the God's eye view of this drama, we find ourselves increasingly untouched by what he called "the crash of breaking worlds."

I agree, however, that no explanation can satisfy the sense that it's bad deal for us. Paramhansa Yogananda said he used to "argue with God" that as He made this mess, he has to clean it up. But, to no avail. Yogananda said he knows why but nonetheless he also knows we suffer so. The deep compassion of the avatars for us impels them to return lifetime after lifetime, forgoing the bliss of union with God, to endure the "slings and arrows" of ignorance and persecution and troubles to uplift humanity and free disciples.

Suffering gives thoughtful people more than cause for anger or puzzlement; it also gives us an incentive to seek the answer to life's riddle. For we know perfectly well that life is a gift and the gift is good! But then there's pesky thing called suffering!

The real question isn't so much "Why does God permit suffering" but the more practical one: "What do I do about it?" We have the freedom and therefore we have the opportunity (and responsibility) to solve the riddle of life by our own efforts. When we unite those efforts and direct those questions to God (being willing to pay whatever price the great pearl of truth may cost us), then He responds.

Indeed, one of the great themes of Krishna's discourse in the Bhagavad Gita is that we must act in this world. In other words, we must take responsibility for the conditions in which we find ourselves. We don't need to know the "why." A soldier on the battlefield cannot focus on the reasons for the war or even the overall strategy for the battle. He must fight to defend himself and defeat the foe right in front of him.

No great scripture or teacher fails to counsel us to adhere to righteous action. Right attitude and action are like levers that trigger the divine response in the form and the power of grace. When we are uplifted and protected we know, in that state, that this power doesn't come from us. Yet, we had to initialize the relationship and the flow of energy toward superconsciousness (God-consciousness).

At first we read books, talk to people, go to teachers. But in time as our ardor blossoms into the flower of faithful devotion, He sends us a true guru: one who can help us achieve freedom from endless rounds of birth and death (and suffering).

Make each day an effort to know, love and serve God in the silence of your soul and in the hands of your daily service, guided by wisdom and compassion.

"God so loved the world that He sent His only-begotten Son to redeem it." That son is, at first the guru, but in time it is the our very own soul, a child of God, for this is who and what we are. God knows that we suffer and wants to help us but most people are too busy with the playthings and troubles of this world to seek Him, not for making our mud puddle nicer, but for His love alone.

May the LIght of Truth and the Moon of Divine Love guide your footsteps to His bliss,

Nayaswami Hriman

Essence of the Bhagavad Gita

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 19:56:00 +0000

Essence of the Bhagavad Gita

India’s most beloved scripture consists of one chapter of the world’s longest epic story, the Mahabharata. This chapter of some seven hundred verses is composed as a dialogue between Lord Krishna and his disciple, Prince Arjuna. It takes place as they are sitting in Arjuna’s chariot surveying the opposing armies: theirs, the Pandavas (think, “good guys in white helmets”) and the Kauravas, (the quintessential “bad guys”).

Of course the scene is allegorical although the battle of Kurukshetra is considered a historical one. The exhortation to do battle is a metaphor for the battle of life to which the soul is called in its mission to seek freedom through reuniting its consciousness with that of its Creator.

As each culture is divinely guided to its highest potential, it is curious to contemplate that the Hindu “Bible” is a call to war while the Christian bible (New Testament) is a call to “turn the other cheek.” East and West, respectively, embody certain attitudes that would do well to seek balance: the one, perhaps too passive; the other, too aggressive.

The are many great themes in this wonderful scripture for the instruction of souls in all times and places . Among the themes in the Gita (that I will explore in a 3-week class series—see below) are the soul’s very first encounter with suffering and good and evil. Arjuna, seeing that the opposing forces consist of his very own cousins with whom he was raised, questions the rightness of killing them in battle. Are they not, his very own?

Did not Jesus ask, “Who are my family but those who walk the path toward God with me?” The "family" may be taken literally as one’s birth family who typically resists the effort to dedicate oneself to the search for God. Or, more deeply and more importantly, the "family" is our own subconscious material desires. The soul, upon reaching adolescence or early adulthood, comes face to face with the need to separate himself from his past in order to begin his spiritual journey aligning the conscious mind towards the guidance of superconscious (guru) mind. And yet, this past, these familiar traits, are my “family!”

Krishna eschews all sentimentality and urges his devotee to take up his “bow” and fight in this just and noble cause -- the very purpose of our creation. All habits and traits which are of the ego are never killed but their energies transmuted and sublimated into higher forms, just as in the teaching of the law of karma and reincarnation, the soul never dies but is simply reborn into new forms. In the wilderness and silence of meditation, we don’t “die” but in fact are reborn into the kingdom of the soul’s consciousness.

Our fears are groundless -- that without our past, subconscious or ego affirming traits there is no "I." But everyone must confront this existential dilemma face-to-face.

What, then, Arjuna asks, is right action? How can you know what is right or wrong? Outwardly it is difficult, Krishna admits, but that action which is not in pursuit of ego-motivated results, which is offered to God in self-offering and devotion and with no thought of personal gain, will guide us to the heights of Self-realization more surely than any other.

The grace of God and guru, the preceptor, must be sought in silent, inner communion and in righteous outward action. In attunement with the silent flow of grace and wisdom, which like the quiet sound of oil pouring from a drum, guides our thoughts, feelings, and actions, we will sail our raft of life toward the seemingly distant shores of freedom.

The greatest wisdom is found through the practice of yoga: silence of mind and body in contemplation of the divine Presence. The greatest action is that which is offered without thought of self in devotion at the feet of Infinity. The greatest feeling is love for God and for God in all, given without condition and expressed in daily life with humility, compassion, and the wisdom of the soul.

Krishna gives Arjuna a taste of his overarching, infinite consciousness as Spirit but the experience proves so overwhelming that Arjuna at last asks to see his beloved friend, Krishna, again! Thus it is that we do best if we approach God in form: as the preceptor, or in the impersonal forms of love, light, sound, peace, etc., or in the form of a beloved deity. The abstract thought of infinity is too much for the human mind and heart to bear, much less to love.

Much, much more wisdom is shared in the Gita: the qualities of nature and consciousness and how to distinguish the higher from the lower, whether in religion or in daily life.

Tuesday night, at the East West Bookshop, 7:30 p.m., February 5 (12, & 19^th), I will share these beloved teachings with friends. My text is Swami Kriyananda’s most inspired work, based on the wisdom of Paramhansa Yogananda, Essence of the Bhagavad Gita, (Crystal Clarity Publishers, Nevada City). We will film the series and the hope is to make it available online at a future date.

Blessings to you,

Nayaswami Hriman

Is Atheism Practical? Unsound?

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 04:12:00 +0000

Is Atheism Practical? Unsound?

[[ERRATA]] : My apologies: I mixed two quotes from Martin Luther King in my original blog. It was violence that he described as "immoral." In a paper he wrote in 1950 he described atheism as shown below.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. described atheism as both “philosophically unsound and impractical.”

Agnosticism I can relate to, at least on the basis that an honest (if simplistic) assessment of human realities can find no sensory evidence of the Deity. To say, therefore, “I don’t know” is to leave open the possibility rather than to join the ranks of dogmatists, both atheists and religionists in hotly declaring a belief or nonbelief in a reality that neither can prove nor disprove to the other.

My impression of at least some self-declared atheists is that they object to the depiction of a personal and vindictive God foisted on us by dyed-in-the-wool believers. If you can re-direct the atheist’s attention to the beauties of nature, the vastness and awe-inspiring complexities and antiquity of creation, the gift of human love, charity, and self-sacrifice, you will sometimes find a closet deist who worships the Unseen Hand by another name or form. I don’t mean to paint all atheists with the same brush, but in my experience this depiction describes some, perhaps many — those aghast or traumatized by the atrocities or hypocrisy of orthodox religionists.

Science may be devoid of faith or feeling but scientists are not. Too many are the Deist reflections of Albert Einstein, for example, for anyone to insist that the greatest scientists lack feeling, reverence or awe in contemplation of the mysteries of life and the natural world.

Paramhansa Yogananda, renowned author of “Autobiography of a Yogi,” came to live in the United States from India in 1920. He admired the material progress, genius, and good works of western scientists and, as if applying their methods to solving the riddle of human existence, asked for what purpose are we impelled to survive? That we seek to survive is far too obvious to question. But why? What is it we seek? And by what means do we find success and by what means do we fail? His inquiry into the mystery of our existence proceeded, like that of men and women of science, from observation and measurement, not from a priori declarations of absolute or revealed truth.

The ancient Greek sages averred that man’s highest duty is “To know thyself.” One such sage, Protagoras, shocked his contemporaries with the statement that “Man is the measure of all things.” In modern times the well known Indian sage of Arunachala hill, Ramana Maharshi, advised seekers to ask, “Who am I?”

If science teaches us that the universe is both incomprehensibly vast and yet without any known center or direction, we have seemingly two choices for humanity: we are either nothing (and life therefore is without meaning), or, we are, indeed, the “measure of all things.” This latter direction has, itself, two directions: I can join with the ranks of twentieth century existentialists in declaring that my ego is the center of the universe and my desires and impulses are the sole measure of truth for me; or, I can go in the direction of Jesus Christ and the Yogi-Christs of India when Jesus declared, “The kingdom of heaven is within you.”

At this point in human history we’ve yet to find life forms such as ourselves from other planets but given the estimate of 200 billion galaxies, I must supposed that the odds are greater than 100% that they must exist.

But inasmuch as that inquiry must remain, for now, only speculative, let us turn to the human experience, then, for our inquiry.

The ancient scriptures of India admit that “God cannot be proved.” So, let us also take from them this admission and follow Jesus’ advice and Yogananda’s line of inquiry for the Holy Grail.

Yogananda started with the observation that what all men seek is happiness. Pleasure, yes, too, but that is easily experienced as fleeting and even counterproductive to lasting happiness as sensory indulgence, unless held in check, can destroy health and happiness. Held even in check, pleasure, moreover, is fleeting and even in its midst a reflective person feels its unreality (because based in perception and anticipation) and its limited span of fulfillment. Observation of human pleasure reveals that its pursuit can be addictive and overtake the good judgment, common sense, and human values of its votaries. Disease, harmful emotions, and premature aging await those who fall victim to the pursuit of pleasure as the summum bonum of life’s existence.

Human happiness is usually sought and seen in human love, cherished family ties, financial success and security, prestige, position, fame, talent, or beauty. But these are like prostitutes: loyal to no one. Observation of the facts easily discloses that those who achieve one or more such pinnacles of human happiness too often find the summit to be cold, windy, desolate, dull, fleeting or elusive. At the top there is nowhere to go but down and furiously scrambling up the mountain sides just below you are hordes of competitors and unseen snipers of death, disease, or betrayal lurking in the shadows below.

None of these easily observable realities and shortcomings of pleasure or human happiness seem to deter the billions of human beings on this planet from seeking their elusive gains. Perhaps it is lack of wisdom, lack of refinement of feeling, lack of the knowledge of a viable alternative or the hypnosis of the allure of these achievements that blind mankind to our own greater potential for true happiness.

Never mind the question of how did this all come about and why. Never mind the fact that the created universe veritably shouts the existence of an overarching Intelligence and Purpose and that the odds of all of this coming into existence randomly is patently absurd, or that the question of the existence of Consciousness belies our very inquiry into it.

Each person can experiment as scientifically as the armies of white lab-coated technicians and their test tubes on what brings them true, lasting and satisfying happiness and contentment. Never mind the cosmos, for now. It seems to get along fine without us.

Mahatma Gandhi wrote: “Nonviolence is the law of our species as violence is the law of the brute. The spirit lies dormant in the brute and he knows no law but that of physical might. The dignity of man requires obedience to a higher law — to the strength of the spirit.”

It is not difficult to discover for oneself that a selfish life is shortsighted and brings unhappiness and pain. An unselfish life, applied with common sense and balance, brings harmony and satisfaction. Heroes show themselves willing to give their lives that others may live free. Humanitarians, great leaders and reformers, and saints in all lands show that the way to inner peace and contentment is to live for high ideals and for the greatest good of all. The calm, inward gaze away from material objects and toward the intangible but life sustaining gifts of wisdom, compassion, creativity, selflessness, and devotion to the Creator are proof positive against the ceaseless flux of changing customs, conquerors, disease, war, and hatred.

Life goes on, as Gandhi and King would often put it, and proves that death, disease, and destruction cannot prevail.

How do these self-discoveries relate, then, to the existence of God? Take the journey and see for yourself.

But along the way consider those whose lives you are following in your experiments with truth (living an unselfish life). What do these heroes and heroines say?

If what the great ones teach us is so obvious, why do so few take the higher path? The higher path requires climbing the mountain and going through the brambles of habit, upbringing, and the ego’s insistence that the body and personality must be satisfied first lest by unselfishness they suffer. And suffer they will, if we listen to them.

Moreover, the selfish life also calls to us, both from our dark past and from the sheer magnetism and allure of its fleeting or dark satisfactions. The great scourge of human happiness is addiction to sense satisfactions, enabled and empowered especially by the power of wealth, possessions, and influence.

The take up of the high road requires the give up of the easy, but descending path, toward the jungle of survival of the fittest ego and towards the swamp of mortal death, disease, and old age. To one whose gaze is fixed upon the greater reality and good of all life, the mortality and frailty of the human body and insecure ego are but universal realities that we are challenged to “get over it.”

To paraphrase Paramhansa Yogananda and a vision he had of Divine Mother, “Dance of life and dance of death, know that these come from Me.” Fear not for they have no lasting reality for Spirit to Spirit goes, unfettered by matter’s ceaseless flux from form to energy and energy back to form.

Let us return then to Martin Luther King, Jr. and his labeling of atheism as unsound and impractical. I cannot claim to know his thoughts in this statement, but I believe his thoughts derive from the loss of the polestar of higher Self from which to guide one’s life. During his brief life (‘50’s and ‘60’s) post-war materialism and atheism (and the power and threat of communism based upon both), existentialism, together with amateurish interpretations of scientific discoveries and speculations such as chaos theory and relativity, were associated with what would be seen as the breakdown of morality and the rise of atheism and belief in the meaninglessness of life.

Atheism as a rejection of religious dogmas was not yet widely understood. King lived in a time of rebellion, both positive and negative. Thus Martin Luther King, Jr. both devout and deeply religious (in a nonsectarian way) and a deep thinker concerned with the trends of modern culture, would describe atheism as unsound.

Atheism would be seen as impractical in contrast to how he saw his crusades for social justice as eminently practical in their methods but as justified in the perception of all men as children of God. That an agnostic or atheist might be a humanist, a proponent of an enlightened self-interest, or a pragmatist taking his cue from the scientific establishment of the interdependency of all living things and upon what might be called traditional Stoicism (a morality based on human values including moderation and self-sacrifice) would not have occurred to King or his religious contemporaries. (A Stoic sees that life brings both pleasure and pain, life and death, and taking the long view steps back from the pursuit of false and fleeting experiences to remain calm, dignified, and self-sacrificing, following what we might call the Golden Rule.)

It may well be that an atheist turns to the enlightenment of reason but as there are “no atheists in fox holes,” an atheist who holds fast and true to humanist ideals in the face of personal suffering, conflict, betrayal, humiliation or self-sacrifice is something much more than a mere atheist. Such virtue would not, in my opinion, derive from atheism but from a deeper and intuitive sense of justice and righteousness that no mere non-belief in a deity could suffice to sustain. Well, that’s my opinion. Taking this further, then, loss of moral judgment would not be a far step from one whose only anchor was this lack of a belief.

As studies have shown that those with a strong and abiding faith heal from surgery or illness faster, and cope with dying with greater aplomb, faith in God is already showing itself (using scientific methods of observation) to be practical. Faith-based communities, too, often show themselves effectively serving the ideals and good of society in ways no legislation or taxation could possibly achieve.

None of this is for the purpose of convincing a self-described atheist or agnostic to “come over to the other side.” Such a journey is like a river that runs silent and runs deep. But the impracticality of such a position, and its potential to lead to selfish behavior, productive of unhappiness, is surely worthy of consideration. The words of Martin Luther King, Jr. are certainly worth pondering.

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

P.S. For an inspired and insightful explanation for Yogananda's "thesis" and modern thought, I direct your attention to two works by J. Donald Walters (aka Swami Kriyananda): "Out of the Labyrinth" and "Hope for a Better World." (Crystal Clarity Publishers, Nevada City, CA)

Tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr. & Mahatma Gandhi

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 06:02:00 +0000

Tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr. & Mahatma Gandhi

How to have courage, calmness & confidence

January 21, 2013 is the thirteenth year that Ananda in Seattle has presented a tribute to these two great men. We combine excerpts from their talks, writings, and biographies with the music of Ananda (written by Ananda’s founder, Swami Kriyananda). This program is free and begins at 7 p.m. at the East West Bookshop in Seattle (www.eastwestbookshop.com). We are planning to stream it live at www.ustream.com (search on AnandaSeattle on or around 7 p.m., Monday night).

Most people are generally familiar with their lives. This tribute to King and Gandhi emphasizes not so much their biographical facts or accomplishments but the spiritual foundation for their courage and inspiration. This aspect is often ignored or only given passing acknowledgement in community programs, books and documentaries.

The public inauguration of President Obama takes place on the day set aside for commemorating Martin Luther King, Jr. and the President has announced that he will take the oath placing his left hand upon two Bibles: one owned by Abraham Lincoln and the other owned by Martin Luther King, Jr. This year our tribute includes a segment of Lincoln’s Second Inaugural address, a short time before his assassination. I would like, therefore, to include Lincoln in my thoughts here.

There are many books on Abraham Lincoln but one of particular interest to me is Elton Trueblood’s, “Abraham Lincoln: Lessons in Spiritual Leadership.” This book seeks to reveal the spiritual life of a man otherwise an enigma even to his closest associates. But it is clear from this book, and so many others, that Lincoln wrapped his deep and personal relationship to God in a combination of humor and humility. The courageous acts he took were not born of pride or bluster but were weighed in the crucible of intense self-examination, painstaking attention to their impacts upon others, the highest interests of the nation as a whole, the framework of the U.S. Constitution, the duties of the presidency and the highest standards of ethics and idealism. All of these facets he looked to as indicators of God’s will. He offered up his deliberations for Divine guidance in the inner silence of his meditations. Lincoln trembled at the prospect of his own vulnerability to pride or ego and to the ease with which one could mistake guidance with desire, or subconscious prejudices.

Abraham Lincoln’s life of faith was rooted in humility and openness to a wisdom far greater than any man might hope to possess or confidently express. But this is precisely the entry fee for intuitive, divine guidance. The evolution of Lincoln’s decisions and policies during the Civil War reveal, in retrospect, the unfoldment of inspiration, calmness, and courage given to him as a divine grace and born of inner guidance. True prophets are keenly aware of their human shortcomings and their potential for self-delusion, more so in the glare of public acclaim or condemnation and more so on the cusp of decisions that can affect the lives of millions and change the course of history. Such examples, then, teach us that from caution and calmness spring the full measure of confidence and courage if born of true, spiritual insight and wisdom.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was thrown into his first civil rights campaign in Montgomery, Alabama by what could only be described as casual circumstances, aka divine destiny. In the mix of those who responded to the black community’s response to the arrest of Rosa Parks, people turned to King on the spot, with no prior background or planning. King showed that inner tentativeness and self-questioning which is like fertile soil from whence a seed sprouts and grows to a magnificent tree. This fertile soil knows that it must wait for the rain of divine guidance to prompt its emergence.

King, like Gandhi, held strictly to the call of divine love even while also fighting his self-styled enemies with cunning, with courage, and with intelligent strategic purpose. Both King and Gandhi were highly educated, extremely intelligent and deeply compassionate. They were unquestionably chosen by, and in time acknowledged, a higher Power to serve as an instrument of a higher Purpose. Each accepted their role but only as it unfolded. Often they would hesitate to act or speak if that inner guidance and inspiration failed to materialize.

The actions of prophets always confound supporters and enemies alike. King’s seemingly sudden interest in and opposition to the Vietnam War, for example, caused consternation among his peers and followers and earned the antipathy and opprobrium of the Johnson administration. Gandhi’s efforts to reassure the Moslem people of India of their place in the rising sun of a new Indian nation outraged Indian nationalists and ultimately was the cause of his assassination.

At the same time there exists the paradox that the realization by the prophet of his God-given role and responsibility clashes with his frail humanity and causes feelings of burdensomeness and even periods of discouragement and depression. In each of these three men: this “melancholy” is evident in their lives. A more ego-affirming person (image a dictator) would revel in his power and only his subconscious would undermine his egotism in an effort to balance him out.

At the end of their lives, especially Gandhi and King, this discouragement and loss of clarity of direction is evident. For Gandhi the communal violence that attended India’s independence and partitioning was, to him, a sign of the failure of his efforts. For King, the impatience of young blacks and their increasing interest in choosing violence over nonviolence, together with fractious in-fighting among civil rights leaders, added to government distrust of King, and lack of progress in his selected campaigns, caused King to doubt himself deeply. Lincoln’s agonies, by contrast, peaked during the losses and setbacks of the civil war. But by the time he was assassinated, he had just won reelection and General Lee had just surrendered. For the first time he felt a quiet sense of contentment. But the work of reconstruction was, he knew, going to be as difficult and, indeed, more complex than the war itself. Moreover, Lincoln had a premonition of his impending death. Nor was it in his nature to revel in victory.

Another characteristic of these three great men was the universality of their religious faith. Of the three Lincoln kept his distance from orthodoxy even as he was notably a man of deep and earnest faith and prayer. King and Gandhi were more aligned with specific faiths but each had a view of religion that we, today, would call true spirituality, unfettered by sectarianism.

All three men viewed their efforts in two important and expansive ways: as benefiting their entire nation, not just the group of people for whose rights or upon whose side they struggled; and, each saw the benefit of their goals and victories as benefiting all peoples, far beyond their own nation’s borders. Each of them had the vision far into the future of the importance of their ideals and their methods.

Though each struggled against foes and self-styled enemies, each courageously expressed respect, friendship, love, and concern for them, whether as individuals or as a group. Lincoln was famous for bringing into his cabinet, administration, and military leadership his competitors.

Lincoln had an abiding faith and vision in the destiny of the United States to be an instrument of God’s will in championing a new way of life, liberty and pursuit of freedom and happiness. Mahatma Gandhi saw his work as an a new model for helping oppressed people find the means to effect freedom and justice without violence. King, similarly, saw that Lincoln’s work was not yet finished and that the well-being and destiny of the United States necessitated that the eradication of prejudice of race be overcome. He saw in the example of Christ, the unfailing power of love and the redemptive power of self-sacrifice. He, too, saw the importance for the United States to serve as an example to all nations and all peoples and understood that this required that the nation help black Americans be “free at last.”

The lives of these three great men are inextricably linked. King, as stated above, saw the civil rights movement as an extension of Lincoln’s emancipation of slavery and preservation of the Union. King was deeply inspired by the life and lessons of Mahatma Gandhi. King travelled to India in 1959 and received a hero’s welcome and a reception worthy of a head of state. People of color throughout the world followed King’s work eagerly. King quipped that he thought the Indian press gave more attention to his campaigns than did the white, American press.

King saw that Gandhi gave his beliefs the tools and means to elevate love for one’s enemies to a broader level than one to one. Lincoln held national days of prayer and fasting, asking the nation to acknowledge its errors and to make penance to atone for the evils of slavery and war. Although no writer than I know of viewed Lincoln as an advocate of non-violence in the Gandhian sense of this, it is clear from the testimony both of Lincoln and his biographers that he was deeply pained by the necessity to conduct an unwanted but necessary war.

There are connections, too, to the work of Ananda and to the life of our preceptor, Paramhansa Yogananda. In the practice of yoga, nonviolence is one of the core precepts that comprise the foundation for meditation and spiritual path and practice of yoga. In addition, Paramhansa Yogananda initiated Mahatma Gandhi into Kriya Yoga and thus created and established a deep and abiding spiritual connection between their two works. Yogananda, when a young man and before coming to the United States in 1920, was approached by Indian revolutionaries to lead them in their fight against the British. Yogananda declined, saying that this was not his work but predicting that India would find freedom through nonviolence during his lifetime. When coming to America in 1920 and becoming a resident (and later a citizen), Yogananda faced numerous instances of racial prejudice as a “colored” man. He spoke passionately about the colonial exploitations of the nations of Asia and Africa, people of color. He viewed World War II as a just war that would be the divine means of throwing off the yoke of colonialism.

The power by which these three changed the course of history has its roots in prayer and dedication to doing the will of God, as best as they could perceive it and doing so with faith and humility.

Courage, calmness and confidence derive not from ego-affirmation (for the ego is brittle and shallow, for self-involved and easily shattered by life’s many opposing egos) but from aligning one’s self with the Divine Will. Through prayer, meditation and right action, and by the habit of asking and praying deeply for divine guidance, we find the still, silent voice of God guiding us in all that we do. In this we feel divine strength, power and wisdom but at the same time we know that it isn’t ours and that we must “remain awake” at all times. Divine consciousness is eternally awake, omnipresent and omnipotent. Our consciousness, then, must approach the Infinite if we are to partake in the life and spirit of God.

This is a tall order but we begin right where we are. Lincoln studied the Bible from an early age and read it daily. King and Gandhi were intimately familiar with the words of their respective scriptures (Bible and Bhagavad Gita) as guidelines for daily life and right action. But it was the habit of meditation that brought each into the Divine Presence. This we, too, can do each and every day.

The testimony of the scriptures of east and west affirm that God is present and actively guiding the course of history through those who willing offer their lives to His guidance and will. Our world is changing at an increasingly rapid pace with dangers to life, liberty and health at every turn. God needs willing instruments. Gandhi termed the life he offered to such people Satyagrahis (expressing Satyagraha: dedication to Truth and Purity).

Those who are part of the worldwide work of Ananda see this living example in the life of Swami Kriyananda. He has been a spiritual warrior, standing calmly amidst calumny, physical suffering, opposition and seemingly impossible obstacles. His life of dedication to the work of Paramhansa Yogananda has earned for him a state of bliss — the grace bestowed upon those who live for God alone.

We don’t start by wanting to be heroes in the eyes of others. We begin, rather with humility and openness to God’s presence and guidance, taking life step-by-step, day-by-day. Meditation, selfless service, and fellowship with others of like mind are essential. Truth is not complex.

Let us then be Lightbearers in this world of change, danger, confusion, chaos, and ignorance.

See you Monday night at East West Bookshop!

Nayaswami Hriman

Who is Paramhansa Yogananda?

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 19:20:00 +0000

Who is Paramhansa Yogananda?

Happy birthday, Sri Yogananda: January 5, 1893!

Tomorrow, January 5, 2013, students, members, friends, and disciples will commemorate the life and teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda (1893-1952). Best known for his life story, "Autobiography of a Yogi," Yogananda came to America in 1920 and except for a tour of Europe, the near East, and a visit back to his homeland of India, remained in America (and became a U.S. citizen) until his passing in 1952. He is also known for having introduced Kriya Yoga (a meditation technique) to the West.

Throughout the world, there will be meditations and public programs to celebrate this great yogi and world teacher. At Ananda Meditation Temple in Bothell, we will conduct a meditation followed by a public program, and, the next day, Sunday, January 6, a family service (with skits taken from his life) and catered (Indian) banquet at the nearby Ananda Community in Lynnwood. For more information on these events, call the Temple at 425 806 3700 or check the website at www.AnandaWA.org.

While Yogananda's autobiography is a must-read, there's also Swami Kriyananda's recent book: Paramhansa Yogananda: a Biography. But my interest here today is not biographical. My thoughts are those of a disciple and student of Yogananda's life and teachings. Nor am I making any effort to compare his life with that of other teachers or gurus. Certain qualities of his personality and aspects of his teachings are what I wish to make note of today.

Paramhansa Yogananda came to America as a young man, age 27. His popularity as a speaker and celebrity rose steadily and a time came when his lectures in large and famous halls (like Carnegie Hall) were filled to overflowing. He was dynamic, spontaneous, accessible, youthful, exuberant, witty, child-like, and even a bit of a showman. He expressed both playfulness and deep devotion. He was everyone's friend, yet candid and bold at times.

Though he was to become a respected and renowned spiritual teacher, he was not pompous, aloof, overly-intellectual or grave. As a guru, he was one’s friend and intimate. He promoted all things Indian even as he lavishly praised all things American. ("All" is of course a slight, however appropriate, exaggeration!) He wore his wisdom as a comfortable old coat, easily removed, and lightly donned.

But no intimacy or lightness could disguise the depth of his message, and its radical and revolutionary nature. Declaring his line of gurus and India's rishis of old to be equal in spiritual stature to Jesus Christ should have got him lynched or deported during those times in American history. But his demeanor and vibration conveyed truth and spiritual power and he could hold and inspire a crowd as easily as a soul.

He effortlessly combined devotion with deep philosophy, and practical wisdom with creative action. In consequence, he inspired such responses from others. He reconciled centuries old theological debates in a few sentences. For example, instead of contrasting and condemning the material world in favor of God in His heaven, Paramhansa Yogananda described this world as a "dream" of the Creator, a dream made to seem real by the principle of power of illusion, the ceaseless motion between opposites (duality).

In the long running debate in Christianity as to whether Jesus was a man or God, Yogananda Jesus as a soul who, through many lives and achieved in a past life, the expansion of the limited ego consciousness (identified with the body) into divine consciousness (beyond all form). Jesus becomes not a divine creation but a soul, like you and I. His soul had awakened from the dream that this creation and the ego are real into the full realization of the underlying divine consciousness as the sole reality in and beyond creation. There is no difference, then, between Jesus Christ and us, only a difference of the degree of awakening.

Is God "wholly other" or is God immanent in His creation? In “becoming” the creation, God, being infinite, is both transcendent and immanent in creation. As the wave is but a part of the great ocean, so our soul is a wave upon the ocean of God's infinite consciousness. We, too, possess the divinely rooted impulse to create and to share. Looking outward into form and into matter, however, the soul begins to lose contact with its infinite Self and becomes identified with its limited self. The guru, or savior, having become fully awakened, comes to awaken the sleeping memory of our divine nature and to guide that awakening towards its goal in Self-realization.

In the debate between monotheism and polytheism, Yogananda explained that God is One because God IS the creation. There is no other reality than God: thus the ONE became MANY but the many is but an illusion.

Buddha refused to speak of God not because he was an atheist but because his mission was to help people understand what they, themselves, must do to achieve liberation from suffering.

Yogananda, as the rishis before him, used the human experience of sleep to describe the process of meditation and the state of superconsciousness. Sleep is something anyone can understand (and appreciate!). In sleep, the sense organs are turned off. In deepest sleep, the mind is quiescent but blissful. We always know how we slept upon waking. Sleep is necessary for life itself to go on. Meditation is the process of conscious sleep and superconsciousness is a state of feeling beyond thought but in a higher octave of intensity of awareness that is deeply rejuvenating. Meditation nourishes our creativity, sharpens our intuition, enriches our capacity for deep feeling, while it graces us with well-being and a sense of connection to others and to all life.

Paramhansa Yogananda taught the core precepts and techniques known to adepts and yogis in India since ancient times which he called “raja yoga.” The essence of the yoga techniques of breath awareness and life force control is distilled into the science of kriya yoga. Kriya is both a technique and a body of techniques and teachings designed to still the turbulence of the mind. This turbulence brought upon by the ceaseless play of the senses, thoughts and feelings creates a veil of delusion that prevents us from “seeing” God as our own, true Self. This science of breath and mind is one of God’s greatest gifts that Yogananda was commissioned to bring to the West and to the world. Kriya Yoga is for every true and sincere seeker, regardless of outward religious affiliation.

Yogananda wrote commentaries on the Bible, Bhagavad Gita, the Yoga Sutras, and the Rubaiyat to show that all great spiritual teaching points to the promise of soul immortality through union with God, the sole reality, both transcendent and immanent.

All true religions can lead us to God because each reflects various aspects of human nature. We use our thought, feeling, will, and action as “organs” which express our intention and consciousness. Thus the different practices of religion reflect these aspects of human nature: devotion, ritual, prayer, self-improvement, and good works. But the goal of religion is union with God, or Self-realization of our divine nature.

This occurs most directly through consciousness itself. To know God we must lift our consciousness towards perfect stillness, towards His Infinite consciousness. The inner path of meditation works with and upon our consciousness, utilizing our God-given and nature-made subtle life force pathways to Oneness. Combining the inner path with the outer practices to purifies our consciousness and makes us fit to “receive Him.”

Yogananda predicted that "Self-realization" would become the religion of the future. By this statement he was not referring to any particular theology or practice but to the understanding among devotees worldwide, regardless of religious affiliation, that our personal connection with God and its practical expression in daily life are the essence of the religious impulse and purpose.

He saw in individual creativity, initiative and responsibility the solution to the challenges of globalism. He sowed into the “ether” the seeds for the establishment of independent, intentional, self-sustaining communities around the world by people of high ideals living simply, modestly and cooperatively. Imagine! This lifestyle alone can potentially solve all of the key issues that we face today: global warming, pollution of soil, air, and water, destruction of habitat and species, alarming rates of population growth ("simplicity" encourages family planning, quality over quantity), domestic violence (by sustainable, appropriate and committed relationships), ruthless competition (replaced by intelligent cooperation) and inequity of race, class, or cultures (with all types living in harmony). He did not envision that everyone would live in such communities. Rather, he saw that such would serve as examples of “how-to-live” for everyone.

Already in his time, he promoted vegetarianism (ovo-lacto) and encouraged others to reduce intake of red meat or pork, substituting fish, chicken, lamb, and emphasizing fresh fruits and vegetables. This counsel is already accepted and promoted by health “gurus” and government officials.

He taught the principles of success in business, harmony in relationships, health of the body and mind, raising whole and happy children, and the importance of spiritual seeking as the centerpiece for finding true happiness.

The core of his teaching can be summed up in the words of Jesus: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God.....and all these things shall be added unto you." He identified that all beings seek happiness and that the path to happiness lies in seeking God through expansion of consciousness and sympathies through right understanding, meditation, and selfless action. Pleasure and human happiness based on outward conditions cannot bring to us lasting peace and joy. God is joy. Seeking God brings to us ever-increasing, ever-new joy, for God is infinite, omniscient, omnipresent Bliss. This is our nature and it is fulfilled in God alone!

Could this teaching be anything but “hope for a better world?” Could this teacher by anything less than a world teacher for this age?

Blessings to you, and "Happy Birthday, Master!"

Nayaswami Hriman

Cosmic Drama: the Final Chapter: My Redeemer Liveth!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 19:24:00 +0000

The Cosmic Drama - Part Five (of Five)

"My Redeemer Liveth"

This is part one of a series of articles. It has its origins in a prior blog article entitled, "Who is Jesus Christ?" You may wish to read that first, though not absolutely necessary. This series attempts to describe the Trinity, or, how God can be omniscient, omnipresent, infinite, and immanent in creation at the same time. And, what significance this has for the reality we face as individuals. As the prior article on Jesus Christ noted, "Who Jesus is says a great deal about who we are." So, too, who God is addresses who we are.

Returning full circle now to the life of Jesus Christ, we see how “TAT” (the second of the Trinity: the “Son”) appears on earth in human form to awaken the “TAT” within those who are ready! Such awakened ones also sow seeds of awakening in many souls, perhaps for a future lifetime. Those many such “descents” (avatars) have a public mission of uplifting consciousness in a race, nation or civilization and a personal mission to individual disciples more spiritually advanced.

Because the “Son” (the memory of our divinity) has fallen asleep through many lives, it takes another Son to awaken that memory. A further “proof” of divinity in human form is the simple fact that without the possibility of becoming “One with the Father” in human form, there would be no evidence of our divinity (in human form). Giving a coin to a street person may be a nice thing to do but it doesn’t make you a saint and it doesn’t show the power of God over all creation, which, as his “sons,” is our potential! It is natural, therefore, that there have been demonstrations down through the ages of the power to even raise the dead. While this is not flaunted to the masses, it has been witnessed by individual disciples who were willing to give their lives for and to dedicate their lives to their testimony.

The fully-awakened “son of God” is not a God-made puppet, but a soul, like you and I, who has achieved that final Self-realization and returns in human form to enlighten his (her) fellows. While this is said to have taken place in a past life, the point remains that the incarnation of divinity in human form is the natural fulfillment (indeed the divine purpose) of the Christ Intelligence (TAT) in nature and in all creation taken to its penultimate manifestation. Indeed it is said that the drama of creation is that souls make the free choice to reunite with our Creator and become fully-realized “sons of God” as Jesus, and other world saviors in history, have done.

As Krishna teaches in the Bhagavad Gita (India’s revered scripture), this descent of divinity into human form (the “avatara”) takes place in every age and nation as divinely ordained by the call of human hearts. “God so loved the world that He sent his only-begotten Son.” The redemptive power of Jesus’ life and spirit lies in both the message and uplifting spiritual power of Self-realization which has its source and its manifestation in attunement with the will of the Father. The New Testament reveals that Jesus knew of his impending crucifixion and even briefly prayed that it pass, but that he accepted the will of his father. Thus must we all do in placing the ego (and body) on the cross that our soul might be resurrected in the Christ Consciousness of our soul’s eternal and immortal reality.

This is the means by which we, too, can ascend. “No man hath ascended to heaven, but he that hath descended.” The meaning of this odd sentence is simply that we are all children of God and have come from God. To God we must return, like the prodigal son, that we might be free. Jesus was not boasting.

But the deeper understanding of this precept is that the indwelling and universal Christ consciousness (son of God) is that which leads us upward or home to God. But first the child must be born in the manger of our humble heart, in the darkness of material delusion. Jesus, and all other great saviors of humankind, come into each culture and age to wake us up and remind us of our immortality and identity as souls (not mere bodies and personalities). “We are of old!”

But what is awakened is within us. Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is with you.” Thus Jesus was the personification (human incarnation) of the Christ which resides, latently at least, in every atom of creation. Christ-in-human-form comes to awaken the Christ within. Whether incarnate in human form or at the still heart of every atom, this, and this alone, is the “only begotten son of God” in creation.

We, too, are potential Christs. When we have “ears to hear” and “eyes to see” this reality, then it is the Holy Spirit (“I will send to you the Holy Spirit, who will bring to your remembrance all these things.”) that leads us back to perfection, back to our home in God-consciousness. God is not in some faraway place but is a state of consciousness, bereft of name and form, and “behind” every atom of creation. This is why meditation is so important and effective as a means of perceiving the God presence within and in all creation.

When the infant child of divine memory is awakened, it is the Mother that nurtures the child to adulthood. The living Christ, or guru, comes only for a short time and fulfills his role by re-lighting the spark of that divine memory in in our consciousness. The Holy Spirit, or Virgin Mother, is that pure vibration (or feeling) of God to which we then attune ourselves that we might grow in Self-realization.

This vibration is the conscious and divine motor or engine of creation. The Bible refers many times to the “sound of many waters,” “thundering’s,” and “lightning.” We chant “Amen” (or “Aum”) with our prayers as a deeper-than-conscious recognition that the “word” of God is neither in English, nor Sanskrit, nor Latin, nor Hebrew, but is an actual sound heard deep in the inner silence. It “knoweth all things” because all things have been created by it (see the first sentences of the gospel of John). We mimic this holy sound with prayers, hymns and chants and various incantations and rituals. The sacredness one might feel at Mass, at prayer, upon a holy mountain, in nature and gazing upon a field is the living, vibratory presence of God AS creation: the Holy “ghost” unseen but felt.

It could be said that the “first coming” of Christ (the TAT, or “son” of God) is when God gives birth to the cosmos. The “second coming” would be the appearance of TAT (the Christ consciousness) in human form (as the guru). The “third coming” would be its awakening in the individual soul. The “fourth” would be the individual soul’s final redemption, or Self-realization: Oneness with the Father.

When Paramhansa Yogananda titled his life’s work, “The Second Coming of Christ,” he was using the phrase from the New Testament. It is a play on words in the sense that he, too, is an avatar, but that what he brought, through meditation (especially kriya yoga), was the “keys to the kingdom” that allows awakened souls to commune with the Holy Spirit (as Aum). Patanjali, author of the famous Yoga Sutras, and other great rishis, have declared that communing with God as Vibration, as Aum, is man’s highest duty for the entire purpose of creation is, as the Baltimore Catholic catechism declares, to “know, love, and serve God.” And, by deeper understanding of this phrase, to “become One with Father.”

Let us celebrate the coming of Christ as the awakening of this realization (of God’s presence) in our own hearts. And let us then share that presence by sharing the gifts of creation, and the greatest gift of all – God’s love – with all whom we meet.

Blessings to you this Christ-mas, and may the New Year bring us ever closer to Self-realization!

Nayaswami Hriman

The above is based upon and inspired by the teachings of the modern Yogi-Christ, Paramhansa Yogananda and the writings of Swami Kriyananda, a direct disciple and founder of the worldwide work of the Ananda communities. For additional reading, see “Revelations of Christ,” by Swami Kriyananda, available from Crystal Clarity Publishers, Nevada City, or the East West Bookshop nearest you.

The Cosmic Drama Continues: part 4 of 5: In Walks the Devil!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sat, 29 Dec 2012 21:56:00 +0000

The Cosmic Drama

Part Four (of Five) - In Walks the Devil!

When God “sent out” His power through vibration (“Aum”) and seeded it with His reflected Intelligence, the creation (especially the powers and intelligences behind matter) are endowed with procreative power, desire, intelligence, and individuality. Just as the son, who may resemble his father in many ways, is given free will to make his own choices in life, so too, the creation and the souls in creation have been given, and have, made choices. As vibration acquires form, individuality and intelligence it acquires a relative degree of independence. Not absolute, but relative. This power, force and intelligence assumes unto itself a self-perpetuating momentum, not unlike the famous computer HAL in the movie: 2001: A Space Odyssey. The outflowing power of God becomes, by degrees, not only independent but, as it begins to assert its self-identity, either rebelliously or ignorantly, it become satanic. The term “satanic” implies a conscious intention to remain apart and independent. It implies a purposeful rebellion against harmony and attunement with the Creator. It is not sharp line in the sand, but a gradual continuum from divine attunement to forgetfulness to restlessness to ignorance to harm and to conscious evil.

Endowed with intelligence and empowered to go out and multiply and then acquiring the form and feeling of separateness (from God), this outgoing power takes onto itself the responsibility and desire to create, multiply, dominant and remain its own “god.” (Think of the myth of Lucifer or Adam and Eve wanting to eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.) Thus does the outflowing force begin gradually to make its own way. The further from God its consciousness inclines, the more the good intention becomes gradually an evil one, usurping God’s power and worshipping itself as godlike. (Thus was Jesus tempted by Satan to have dominion over all the earth if he would but worship Satan as the creation itself.) Thus humans set up false gods, worshipping money, the pleasures of the senses, power over others, addictive substances, and so on. Satan, in the form of the creation, invites us to worship him as the summum bonum of existence. In the end he takes our souls, metaphorically speaking (only), in the sense that we lose (temporarily) our soul joy and innocence in God’s bliss. Death, old-age, disease, disappointment—at last, he reneges on his promise leaving us with neither God’s peace nor our moth-eaten treasures on earth.

There is another aspect to this loss of innocence. As Spirit is cloaked in form, individuality, and separateness, it finds itself competing for survival in a world of the senses. Forced to feed, clothe and shelter itself, it finds that the compelling necessities of its outer form cause it to look outward through the senses. The outer world gradually becomes its reality and lost is the divine memory of its own omniscience and immortality. It will take untold incarnations for this lost soul to (ascend first to the human level, and then untold more incarnations to) rebel against the “anguishing monotony” of continued rounds of rebirth, struggle, pleasure, pain, illness and death after having exhausted every avenue of sensory and ego-affirming, but ultimately disappointing, fulfillment.

Thus, the macro-characters in the cosmic drama are God (as the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) and the satanic force which opposes harmony with and union with God. Paramhansa Yogananda put it this way: the satanic force has sowed the creation with patterns of imperfection (pain, disease, & physical death) so that our memory of divine perfection will impel beings to want to return to the creation to make it perfect. But alas, the cosmic drama requires the villain that we might love the hero. The villain must be punished and the hero is applauded. As we act more like the hero we come closer to God. In this way, even the satanic force of maya (delusion and ignorance) act to sow the seeds of our longing for perfection. This perfection, this bliss, this union is found only within our souls—in God alone. We have an eternity of free choices to discover and seek this re-union, just as the prodigal son in Jesus’ story, hungry and famished, decides to begin the journey home to his Father. There he is welcomed and embraced (not punished).

Whether we view the betrayal of God’s divine purpose as the result of the “first man and woman” (Adam and Eve) or as a choice we all make, especially beginning with puberty, is perhaps a matter of taste. The reality is that, from the human point of view, evil exists, ignorance exists, wrong choices and bad things happen and we need to make things better. Blaming God has its place, but only to a point. Doing so doesn’t change the bad things. We have to take action and we have to take at least some responsibility for ourselves and our neighbor. Without this, life would be not worth living. Besides, in truth and at the present moment, most people wouldn’t have it any other way and are not the slightest bit interested in knowing, loving, serving and uniting in love with God.

The "devil made me do it",

Nayaswami Hriman

The Trinity - FATHER, SON AND HOLY GHOST

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 05:22:00 +0000

The Cosmic Drama
Part Three (of Five)
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost - AUM, TAT, SAT

In India, that aspect of God that is the Creator, separate and untouched by “His” creation is called “SAT,” and can be called “the Father.” The creation itself as a creative act of SAT and a manifestation of the Creator in the act of “becoming,” is “AUM.” The creation comes into being through an illusion caused by movement (“duality”) in opposite directions from a point of rest at the center. A whirling fan or the hubcaps of a wheel can create the appearance of solidity owing to their motion. Basic subatomic particles, atoms and molecules combine in an infinite variety of ways to give the appearance of separate objects. This “God AS the underlying reality of creation” is called “AUM” in India and, in Christianity, is given the term the “Holy Spirit.” It is “ghost-like” (Holy Ghost) because invisible; its presence is “felt” as a breeze, a whispered sound, or an ethereal rumble of thunder or a crashing sea. Its visible appearance is as the inner light of meditation.

In Christianity, it is personified as the Virgin Mother of Christ: virgin because God AS creation is unpolluted or untouched by creation’s subsequent and infinite variations. In India, Divine Mother (personified in a variety of goddesses) is the personification of the AUM vibration.

This primordial and essential level of creation is characterized by sound and light, especially sound. Hence we find in the great faith traditions the universal intonation of a core and divinely conscious prayer-word such as “Aum,” “Amen,” “Amin,” and “Ahunavar.” This utterance attempts to articulate the metaphysical reality called “the Word.” “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God (John 1:1).” A word is a sound uttered based on thought and consciousness. The Aum vibration is the voice of God at the heart of all creation. It creates, sustains, and withdraws from sight all things. As the living presence of God in creation, it is the “Comforter” and brings to our “remembrance” all things because all things are made by it. In hearing it, we also enter into the presence of God’s presence and “remember” that presence. In that presence wisdom comes to us. Listening to the inner sound (of AUM) brings to devotees not just comfort but protection and inner guidance.

Just as the artist or scientist or inventor has a seed idea that triggers further details and enthusiasm and finally manifests in the intended object, so creation is said to contain three distinct levels: thought (ideation), energy (astral), and the physical cosmos. The investigations by science into the underlying chemical, atomic, electrical and electro-magnetic properties of matter are suggestive of the energy or astral world that underlies the superficial appearance of matter on the gross level of the senses.

But if the universe were only God’s manifestation it would be a sham. For God to set in motion His creation and yet remain apart from it, He had to impregnate the creation (Divine Mother, his consort, the Virgin and the Aum vibration) with His seed, which is to say, with his intention, His “looks,” and, you might say, His DNA. Genesis declares that we are made in His image and thus we “resemble” our Creator, not in physical appearance but in our true essence. (The five points of the body—two feet, two arms and head—resemble the five points of a star commonly seen in meditation.)

God thus had to bestow upon His creation, His only begotten Son, His own intelligence and intention, the seed of His own perfection in Bliss. In order to sustain and perpetuate His creation, he had to endow the perpetual motion of the illusion of creation with intention and intelligence. His seed of intention and intelligence resides at the center of each atom and each object and endows all things with the power and the desire to procreate. As God is Bliss itself (meaning the summum bonum of existence), and as it is the nature of Bliss to express itself and share, so too God’s creation and creatures find joy in the act of procreating (on all levels of intelligence and intention) and, at the same time, as the inner essence of Being. God is thus Being and Becoming.

This spark of divinity and intelligence is always appropriate to the need and context. Thus it is that trees make more trees and only trees, not frogs. Thus it is objects seek to survive and to perpetuate their existence. This divine spark of intelligence and joy is itself the aspect of God that is immanent in creation. This is the true and “only begotten son of God.” The intelligence inherent in creation is God’s “son,” for it resembles him in these respects. “God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son” that the son might reveal the Father. This intelligence seeks to reveal the Father. All creation is endowed, to some measure, with the bliss of God and the desire, born of the nature of bliss itself, to expand and multiply.

In India the term of this is TAT, or the Christ Intelligence in creation: the reflection in creation of the Infinite Spirit beyond creation. In matter and in lower life forms it can only express itself instinctually. But when it reaches the human form, the soul has the potential to become “one with the Father.” In Christianity it is given the term “Holy Ghost:” the silent, invisible ghost or spirit which gives “life” to all things.

Joy and blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

The Cosmic Drama Continues: Part 2 (of 5): The Master Playwright!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 16:16:00 +0000

The Cosmic Drama
Part Two (of Five)
God: the Master Playwright

As Shakespeare the playwright who writes the script for the villain isn’t therefore himself an evil person, so too the cosmic playwright knows that the play, in order to be performed and enjoyed, must have both protagonist and antagonist. If the villain plays his role well on the stage he will be convincing and all the audience will hiss and boo at him. The hero, too, played correctly and well, will invite the sympathy and support of the audience. Thus we are drawn to the virtues of the hero and away from the evil of the villain.

As the players aren’t really killed in the battles that take place on stage, so too are we, the players in this divine drama of life, not really killed when we shed our bodies in “death.” Like waves rising from the surface of the sea, the elements and individuals in the drama of creation appear on the lake of the cosmic mind, appearing to be separate, but then, after their time is finished, falling back into the bosom of the sea. (Reincarnation is suggested in the scientific principle that matter cannot be destroyed; it only changes form. Its corollary, the law of karma, also spawns a scientific principle: for every action, there is an equal or opposite reaction.)

Thus the playwright writes a script but it takes the creativity and talent of the actors to bring it to life, to make it credible, and to engage the audience emotionally and convincingly. Thus the playwright, the actors (and even the supportive stage crew from behind the curtain, as it were) and even the audience all have roles to play. No one stands completely apart from the others but the playwright gives birth to the drama and invites others to “play,” which they must do voluntarily: some with excellence, and others poorly following the script.

The essential reality of the drama and of the persona of the actors springs from the mind of the playwright. This “dream” magnetically draws to itself the necessary participants, both actors and audience. Shakespeare, already in his time well known, a famous and successful playwright, no doubt attracted both actors and audience, springing, as it were, from the unseen realm of his mind.

But this metaphor stops short of giving satisfaction because all participants are recognizably separate entities. To deny this is to give up the game for naught, saying that “nothing is real” and we might as well go home and go to bed or make merry. How can we be separate and at the same time One? How can we be held accountable for our actions when we are but creations of the dream-nature of God? This is the essential “mystery” of creation and the source of the teaching of the triune nature of God.

Let us return to the metaphor of the artist, craftsman or inventor. The “signature” of great artists is often recognizable in the style of their work even if the subject matter may vary widely. This is as true for Monet as for a cabinet maker, at least potentially. Thus every invention or work of art might be said to reflect some aspect of its maker, even while, at the same time, hiding much, indeed most, of the maker’s persona. As God “becomes” the creation, the creation hints at the existence of its creator even while it hides Him.

While the wood a carpenter buys to make a table is inert, all God has to work with is His own consciousness! Thus, no matter what He makes, He makes it with His own essence and cannot wholly be other nor yet wholly be hidden. Whereas a saint reveals more of the divine Presence than a criminal, it is only a matter of degree, not essentially a different species or kind.

Like hiring actors to play the roles in the script, God cannot help but endow his creation with His own intelligence and intention. As He has created, therefore, so we, his children, and all of creation, is endowed with both the intelligence to play the drama and the desire to do so. As the son of a father may look like the father and may have many of his parent’s attributes in appearance and personality, and yet, at the same time, walk his own path of life, so too might the creation reflect the Creator without either limiting the Creator or limiting the creation!

Parents do their best to raise their children with good habits but at some point the child becomes an adult and must choose to put into practice, or to reject, what he has been taught. But he can never alter his DNA, his essential bloodline. If he errs, he can still repent and come back to the truths taught to him by his parents.

The difference between the literal application of this metaphor and God and each soul is that our souls are forever and from eternity individuated expressions of the Cosmic Light of God. We might postpone this awakening or recognition for untold lifetimes but we can never kill it or separate ourselves from it. For it is gives us life, for it is life itself. God is like the hidden germ or life spring of intelligence and life force that animates us. His very intelligence, clothed with a specific outer form, takes on its own life and identity, losing touch (though never entirely) with its divine essence as it identifies with its outer form and as it interacts with other forms similarly clothed and cloaked, some benign, others threatening.

A B-grade actor becomes typecast because he and his audience begin to identify the actor himself with the role he plays. He ends up having to play the same basic roles again and again until, like the lesson of reincarnation itself, he “gets it” (by severing his true self from his repeated roles). A great actress, by contrast, plays parts tragic and comic, heroine and villainess, with equal gusto and talent, delighting and entertaining her audiences like a great artist but never becoming identified with any of the specific roles.

Let us now, turn, in the next article, to analyzing the triune nature of God!

May the Light of the Universal Christ Consciousness be born in you this and every day, a Christmas!

Nayaswami Hriman

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 05:47:00 +0000

The Cosmic Drama: Part One (of Five) Jesus Christ – an oriental who changed the West

This is part one of a series of articles. It has its origins in a prior blog article entitled, "Who is Jesus Christ?" You may wish to read that first, though not absolutely necessary. This series attempts to describe the Trinity, or, how God can be omniscient, omnipresent, infinite, and immanent in creation at the same time. And, what significance this has for the reality we face as individuals. As the prior article on Jesus Christ noted, "Who Jesus is says a great deal about who we are." So, too, who God is addresses who we are.

The teachings of Jesus were to force a reevaluation of the fundamental teachings of Judaism. St. Paul is generally credited with the intellectual horsepower that set the stage for these changes. What was to become the teaching of the Trinity – the triune nature of God – arose in Christianity primarily to help bring a broader understanding of the Jewish teaching of the oneness of God. In the Judaism there is only one God but the separation of God from man is absolute. His messengers might be angels or prophets but God’s appearance on earth was rare and never in human form. God “appeared” to Moses as a burning bush that did not consume the bush and out of which came a voice. In some form that is unknown, God gave to Moses upon Mt. Sinai the stone tablets upon which were written the Ten Commandments. But always God was “other” and all but inaccessible.

Jesus’ appearance on earth and his declaration that he was the “son of God” was naturally a shocking and blasphemous statement to the orthodox point of view. Moreover, as history and scholarship has repeatedly attested (and as the New Testament implies), the messiah was expected to be bring the Jews political freedom (from which would come the religious renaissance) in this world, a repetition of the role not unlike that of Moses who led the Israelites from bondage in Egypt to freedom in their new land and into a new covenant with God.

The assumption that God is wholly “other” and separate from creation is an easy and understandable one, for God’s presence in creation is well hidden, to say the least. The separateness of people, one from the other, plants and animals, night and day, male and female seems so obvious that why, too, wouldn’t God Himself be “other?” In Genesis, for example, we read that God simply says, effectively, “make it so” and it was. No one seems to have had much curiosity about exactly how He did it. A carpenter who makes a chair remains separate and apart from the chair. Isn’t that obvious? Why question it?

Obvious? Or, maybe not so obvious? Unlike the carpenter, God had place to go, no trees or hardware stores, from which to gather the materials of creation. Only now, in our age, with quantum physicists exploring the very nature of the creation of matter on its most element levels has the question (and the potential answer) been raised anew and piqued the interest of intelligent and thoughtful men and women everywhere. It is perhaps our newly acquired scientific consciousness that has provoked deeper inquiries into God’s methodology. Thus far, however, scientists seem to be stumped. They are standing before an abyss of emptiness devoid of discernible matter but latent with tremendous energy, out of which pops minute particles at seemingly random intervals only to vanish as quickly as they came. Like a scene out of the Trilogy, they stand as if before a door in a mountain unable to decipher the code that unlocks that door and leads to the inner sanctum of creation’s deepest mysteries.

A table and chairs may not reveal much about its maker but their very existence reveals the fact of a maker. A work of art, a new invention, a child conceived, and a new computer chip all appear from seemingly nowhere (the human mind and heart) but with great potential consequences, just as quarks and vibrating strings exist at the very edge of pure energy and no-thing-ness, out of which all things have come. While scientists tell us that energy is the underlying substrata of all matter, they have not nor probably ever will, discover the source and motive that underlies energy itself.

By contrast, rishis and masters, down through the ages, have suffered from no such limitation, for they have not merely tried to find the source of the atom but have become the atom using a kind of reverse engineering from the process by which God created the atom to begin with. The masters achieved Self-realization and oneness with the overarching Consciousness out of which all things in creation are born, live, and to which they are withdrawn. The teachings of metaphysicians aver that the creation is a manifestation of God’s consciousness “becoming” His creation. When the Jews intone daily their great mantra (“Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is ONE!”) little do they know that the concept “God is One” means God is one with the entire cosmos as well and at the same time Being other, separate and apart from it. Oneness surely includes infinity and infinity is presumably inclusive of everything and therefore big enough to be “both-and” so that God can be both separate from creation and at the same time the very essence and sustainer of creation itself. But how? This question we will pursue in the series of four more articles to come. But it provokes more questions that need addressing, also, such as:

If God became the creation, does this mean we are but puppets and our so-called “free-will” is an illusion? What, if any, is our responsibility for our actions? From whence comes suffering and evil? Is God good, evil, indifferent or something else? Stay tuned…….for the next four articles.

Aum, shanti, amen,

Nayaswami Hriman

The Price of Greatness!

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 07:00:00 +0000

When you examine the lives of many whom the world upholds as noble and history-making, you soon find that they endured, indeed sought and accepted, their own need to remain apart from "the maddening crowd" of popular opinion. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed -- we think of the mountain top, the cave, the lone Bodhi tree! Gandhi, Martin Luther King -- all great men and women kept their distance, as it were.

Paramhansa Yogananda, famous for his life story, Autobiography of a Yogi, put it directly in saying that "Seclusion is the price of greatness." For those who are sincere in spiritual seeking, the tradition well established is to go on retreat at least once a year or a pilgrimage perhaps once in a lifetime (Jerusalem, Varanasi, Lourdes, etc.) Couples, too, should find time apart, in reflection and silence.

Writers do it; scientists do it; politicians do it. Why don't you?

When I managed the Expanding Light Retreat in northern California I recall meeting a retreatant who said that she'd never been apart from family all her life: from childhood right into marriage and children. She'd never been alone! Imagine! Well, don't.....because that's true for most everyone on this planet.

If you want to be good at what you do; if you want to be the best you can be; if you want to make contact with your, own higher Self; if you want to "find God;" if you are seeking soul freedom; all of these......Krishna says in the Bhagavad Gita: "Get away from my ocean of suffering!" To have perspective of any sort, you need distance.

I just returned from my annual week of personal retreat which we call seclusion. It is a time alone: in prayer, meditation and mindfulness. There are periods of spiritual reading and journaling. During times of necessary tasks, such as meal preparation, one strives to remain in silence and in mindfulness of the eternal Present. Talk nor see anyone, if at all possible. Write notes, if you must.

I have been doing this for perhaps twenty five years: once a year for a week! It's not enough, really, but it's good enough. It's "hard work" but "good work!" I can't say it's life changing but it is a tune-up and a wake-up time to what's important.

I am 62 years old and came of age in the heady days of Haight Asbury, Monterey Pop Festival, and the Summer of Love. I was there, just like Forrest, Forrest Gump. I thought a lot of things were going to change. But you know, they didn't, really. I thought Vietnam was the "war to end all wars (of imperialism)." It didn't. I thought sexism was out the window and men and women were equals and friends. Not true. I thought peace and love was in; it isn't.

I can pass as pretty cynical but that's not really my point. My point is "the only way out, is in!" I do, in fact, think the world's consciousness is expanding toward a better place, but very, very slowly and with two steps forward; one step back.

We don't live very long nor do we know the "time or the place" of our departure. So, what's important? Is the love and family everyone talks about at holidays? Well, sure, why not? But most families are a bit nutty and usually more than a little broken. So, sure, if you're into that, fine. But it certainly isn't the reality for much of the planet. And if your family is really together, what about the one next door? See my point? You just never know, do you?

Our only "greatness" and success in life comes from the degree to which our selfishness expands into selflessness. That's it, really. Sure, I could say that this goes all the way into the Infinity of God's love, but if that doesn't mean much to you, maybe I said enough to begin with? But that expansion of consciousness cannot occur if the "trivial preoccupations of daily life" become the great mountains that you climb. "For wisdom, too, man has a hunger." (quotes from Yogananda's autobiography)

Yes, travel and education help give perspective, but these are more intellectual or in the moment. There's another aspect to perspective and it is the ages old dictum: "Know Thyself" or, as I prefer to put it: "Know Thy Self." "Whom am I?" "What is my importance, if any, in this life?" "My duty?"

Great sages of east and west say that to know thy Self is our only real duty because from this comes an understanding of right action. Are you your body? Personality? Social class? Race? Gender? Well, of course, not, but then "Who am I?"

Why, nothing, of course! That's the point. Nothing means everything and everyone. That's the point. Abstraction is the greatest gift to mankind for in it we see ourselves as our neighbor, not just our families, our nation.

A daily practice of meditation will help you make contact with the consciousness within you that precedes all the junk that you currently think is "you." Meditation can soften the heart, open the mind, and release your fixation on the body as your reality. Many powers of "mind over matter" have been demonstrated. Indeed, too numerous to bother to mention. There are people who have been documented to live without food or water for decades; to raise the dead; to be entombed for long periods and be revived; walk on water; fly; bi-locate and so on. You get my drift.

Science, too, tells us that reality is far from what it appears.

So, what's taking you so long? Get with it. Get out of it. Wish your loved one(s) "adieu" and take a retreat. Make sure you don't spend your whole time "chopping wood and carrying water" however. Make sure you are can be still for periods of time; and, alone. You'll find it's no picnic, at least if you are honest.

If you are not ready, and why should you be, then go to a real retreat facility where others are doing more or less the same. This is not only good in itself, taking some classes, doing some yoga or equivalent, but it is also a bridge to the real deal when you are alone and I mean really, really alone. That's why most people can't meditate: they are afraid of the dark though they'll never tell you that.

I dare you: once in your life face the abyss of unknowing, stripped of the comforts and preoccupations of daily life that assure you that you are alive and well. Buddha did it for real and for eternity. Can you do it for a short time? You don't need a mid-life crises you just need awakening to the Real.

Nayaswami Hriman

Who is Jesus Christ?

noreply@blogger.com (Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway) — Thu, 06 Dec 2012 04:01:00 +0000

It is once again the Christmas season and while “Who is Jesus Christ” is a question one can ask at any time, it seems especially appropriate this time of year. Millions celebrate Christmas, whether religiously or only just socially. The life of the man who became known in history as Jesus Christ has influenced, nay, changed the course of the history of the western nations. His life has certainly affected every continent on this earth to some degree, better or worse, according to one’s point of view.

So, like, “Who is this guy?” Jesus himself asked his own disciples that question, according to the New Testament. Reading behind the lines of that report one can easily feel the disciples looking down and shuffling their feet nervously, fearing to get the wrong answer. Since Jesus actually asked “Who do men say I am?” some of the disciples felt to venture responses on the basis of what they had heard others say, rather than offering their own opinion. And their answers are revealing. One response is rather ignorant saying “John the Baptist!” I say “ignorant” because John was Jesus’ older cousin and had only recently been murdered by King Herod. So, even assuming one believes in reincarnation, that would have been well-nigh to impossible.

Others responded with the names of some of the Old Testament prophets (e.g., Jeremiah). Why this aspect of the dialogue (which reveals that reincarnation was widely accepted and that Jesus made no attempt to deny or correct it when given a perfect opportunity to do so) hasn’t been noticed by Christians is an example of precisely what Jesus himself was frequently quoted as warning his listeners that his deeper teachings were “for those who have ears to hear.” (I have read that scholars have discovered that the doctrine of reincarnation had been taught for the first several centuries of Christianity but was intentionally removed in the fourth century A.D. Prior to that, one of the early teachers of Christianity, Origen, confirmed that the doctrine had been taught since apostolic times. Jewish scholars, too, can attest to the long-standing debate regarding its validity.)

Returning to our topic, it was, famously, Peter (bar Jonah, the “Rock”) who declared the true nature of Jesus: “Thou art the Christ, the son of the living God.” On other occasions, Jesus publicly declared “I and my father are one.” He alternated between referring to himself as “the son of man” (presumably a reference to his physical form and personality) and “the son of God” (presumably a reference to his divine nature). He further declared that “Before Abraham was, I AM.” By this shocking and seemingly blasphemous statement, he is saying that his spirit, being one with God, has, existed since all eternity, with God. But, now, just his soul? Or?

Now, let’s pause, after all, I am mostly just quoting Jesus himself. For that, you can read the New Testament yourself. Why, however, is this question, “Who is Jesus Christ?” a useful one to ask? Because the answer implies as much about whom you are as it does about Jesus.

Was Jesus Christ a special creation of God? Is he therefore unique and uniquely separate from the rest of humanity, despite his human form? Was he, then, like some spiritual alien? Did God Himself incarnate into the body of Jesus? (If so, who was minding the store for thirty-three years?)

When challenged by his self-styled tormentors, the scribes and the Pharisees (keepers of the Hebrew law), Jesus quoted back to them a phrase from their own scriptures (Jesus, mind you, was a Jew and he knew his Bible, too): “Do not your scriptures say, ‘Ye are gods’?” In reference to the many miracles Jesus is reported to have done, he told his disciples that they would do these and more, for he was soon to return to his father.

The beloved disciple, John, whose gospel stands apart from the other three evangelists for its impersonal presentation of the nature of Jesus, describes Jesus as the “Word made flesh and dwelt amongst us.” He states that the Word is God and is the co-creator of all things. Jesus is thus more than the human being whose life and teachings are described in the New Testament. But is he uniquely so? John the Evangelist goes on to write that “As many as received him to them give he the “power to become the sons of God.”

Here then we see clearly and profoundly that Jesus was not uniquely different than you or I. It must be added, that to “receive him” must go beyond belonging to a church, being baptized with water or through mere intellectual or emotional assent. Whatever it is must be very powerful and life changing.

John is saying nothing less than we, too, are potentially sons of God as Jesus was “one with the Father.”

This teaching of our oneness with Jesus’ divine nature permeates the original teachings of Jesus in the early formative years of Christianity. The term “body of Christ” was used to describe both those who followed his teachings (and, in other contexts, all people) and to describe the sacrament of sharing bread and wine as symbols of the Christ presence in all creation and in all souls. That Churchianity later arose to make that an exclusive teaching is hardly a surprise given the exigencies and limits imposed upon it by history, culture, consciousness and circumstances.

The mystical saints of Christianity, however, attest in various ways to this universality, to this truly “catholic” teaching. St. Thomas Aquinas and later St. Theresa of Avila experienced the “formless Christ” as the eternal light that “lighteth all men” and which creates and sustains all things since the beginning of time. Their very experience of this formless Christ is testimony to its being our very essence (indeed, the essence of all creation!)

Now if you want to stop reading here, I’d forgive you. From where we, as westeners and Christians stand, we are not so shaken thus far in anything I’ve written (unless you are a dyed-in-the-wool believer). But from where Jesus stood, he was crucified for his unforgivable audacity in revealing himself as “the son of God.”

We can’t fully appreciate how revolutionary this was, unless we are perhaps Jewish or Muslim.

Judaism (and later, Islam) represents a monotheistic tradition for which the appearance of a human being claiming to be God is the height of blasphemy. Insofar as the apostles were good “Jewish boys” they had an uphill climb to make. In the pagan cities of the Mediterranean, it was tough enough to sell a new religion based on the story of a poor Jew who died on a cross at the hands of the Romans and who was resurrected from the dead (not your usual, every day experience). But in some ways that line was easier with the pagans who believed in all sorts of things (after all Augustus was proclaimed a god, too!). But, for the boys back home in Judea, this was a tough sell. It’s hardly a surprise that Christianity ended up going its own way.

he idea that the Deity could incarnate as a human on earth required an entirely new understanding of creation and God’s role in it. This, in part, is what made Jesus’ teachings and message so revolutionary in its times. In fact, however, it is far more oriental in its message than we can possibly appreciate. I’m not about to write a book, so I won’t elaborate on that statement. Suffice to say that a broader understanding of divinity was needed. No longer would God be “wholly other” and outside human history except as He interjected himself through his messengers, the prophets. It was bad enough that Jesus took on the religious establishment of his time to expose their pusillanimity and hypocrisy in holding to the letter of the Mosaic law and not its spirit.

But to declare the presence of God in human form would require the birth of a new religion that would change the world and, ironically, would, in fact, overthrow the Roman rule (which the Jews themselves yearned for). It would give birth to a new understanding of creation itself, though this was to take some time to formulate and articulate.

I will reserve a separate blog article on the teaching of the Trinity, for the triune nature of God has been taught in India since time immemorial and the fact that this teaching appears in early Christianity is no coincidence for its reflects this new and deeper understanding that Jesus came to initialize. But for now, during the Christmas season, let me say that we, too, are potential “Christs” and may only need to awaken, and then to perfect, this realization. It is on the basis of the recognition that we are all children of the One God that we can truly celebrate the Christmas spirit of giving and sharing.

Blessings to you this Christmas,

Nayaswami Hriman

Nayaswami Hriman McGilloway

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Part Three (of Five)
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God: the Master Playwright