Reluctance

In my younger days, I served as foreman for the Ananda Construction Company, building houses in California. I loved that job because I enjoyed the physical work and the camaraderie that came from being part of a cheerful, hard-working team of fellow devotees.  Naturally, some were more skilled than others at particular tasks, but it was the ethos of our crew--to each be willing to do whatever was necessary to get the job done, whatever the task, and with no regard for status.    

Sometimes a new worker didn’t share our joyful “all for one, one for all” approach or shirked the more challenging assignments.  Such fellows didn’t last long and as foreman of the crew, it was my responsibility to deal with them.   I would test new workers by purposely assigning him a particularly disagreeable task, but after first letting him work alone for a short time, I’d jump in to help and we’d complete the job together.  If he showed good spirit and was willing to do any job cheerfully, we accepted him as part of our crew.  If not, he didn’t last long.   

I was reminded recently of those long-ago days when a distasteful assignment landed on my plate. “Oh no, not again!” I thought, “Why me?  How can I get out of doing this?  Maybe I can find someone else to do it.”  As the days passed, I found myself becoming grumpier and grumpier in direct proportion to my unwillingness to accept what life was asking of me.   On top of that, the mere thought of the project completely drained my energy. 

Finally, I remembered building those houses.  I wondered, “Might God be testing me like I tested those new workers?  Maybe this is my karma coming back to me.  Am I willing to cheerfully do any job assigned as I had expected of others?  Maybe God is with me right now, waiting for the right moment to help?”    

Nothing in life is accidental; that which comes to us unbidden is ours to resolve.  The question is, “How are we going to receive our assignments, reluctantly or with joyful enthusiasm?”  God’s grace is available to all who are willing to receive it with a cheerful and enthusiastic attitude. If we respond positively, we find energy flowing through us.  That’s the best way to invite God’s help to overcome all circumstances whereas reluctance is the surest way to stop the divine flow.  If we can honestly say “Yes,” with a positive spirit and be willing to do our best, circumstances have a mysterious way of arranging themselves to our benefit.  If we are reluctant and avoid what the Divine Foreman asks of us, we close the door to Grace and remain unhappy, with little energy and entangled in our karmic challenges.

Walk With Beauty

One of my favorite prayers comes from the “Blessing Ceremony” of the Navajo people, the largest tribal nation in America. 

With beauty before me I walk. With beauty behind me I walk.

Wiith beauty below me I walk. With beauty above me I walk.

With beauty all around me may I walk.

Through the returning seasons, may I walk.

On the trail marked with pollen, may I walk.

With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty all day long may I walk. 

“I Walk with Beauty” is a timeless message that expresses the importance of living in harmony with nature, one’s neighbors, circumstances, and most of all, with oneself.  It is to walk the pathway of life in a state of grace rather than in disharmony and spiritual “dis-ease”.  

Many years ago, I had the good fortune to meet Swami Satchitananda, a direct disciple of the great Master, Swami Sivananda.  He was a friend of Swami Kriyananda and loved “word-play.”  He enjoyed reminding his audience that the life of a perfected yogi is one of “ease”, of being balanced, harmonious and in a state of grace. Such a life comes naturally when we transcend our little self, the ego.  In contrast, the worldly man’s life is far from “ease,” filled as it is with tension caused by worries, fears and a focus upon “I, me and mine.”  Such a life is one of “dis-ease,” of troubles, ill health, conflict, and emotional pain.  In other words, to live outside of an awareness of God is to live in the world of disharmony, tension and stress.  

Stress is our modern world’s pandemic manifesting as mental, emotional, and physical tension.  Though we all experience stress symptoms, few realize that its root cause is not found in our challenges, nor in our daily struggle with circumstances. We can never be “at ease” so long as we seek fulfillment in the ever-changing world outside of ourselves.   To focus upon our own cares and personal concerns in isolation from a larger reality is to inevitably live in a state of spiritual tension between the downward pull of our little ego and our soul aspiration for perfect freedom.

The best cure for stress is to adopt those attitudes and practices that expand our sympathies from limitation toward something larger than our little selves, toward something divine and beautiful.  

Tips to Overcome Stress

·      Recognize and accept what “IS” rather than mentally wishing for circumstances to be other than they are.  Stress springs from resistance or a wish for something to be other than it is.  

·      Embrace life with willing enthusiasm.  Cooperate with it.  Circumstances may be neutral, but they are not random.  Life has arranged itself for a karmic, divine purpose to help us grow toward freedom. 

·      Have faith. This is God’s show and we are His actors.  The Divine Director is behind the scenes, benevolently guiding us according to His plan. Our job is to play our roles well as God’s instruments, non-attached and in the consciousness of His presence.  

·      Practice meditation. Meditation is the supreme tool for transcending ego consciousness. Only in transcendence can true rest be had.  

·      “Keep the body fit for Self-realization!” Exercise, proper diet, cleanliness of mind, and healthy habits of living are vital for reducing stress and tension.  

The Joy of Silence

Baba Hari Dass was a sadhu and spiritual teacher from North India who observed the spiritual discipline of “maun” (complete silence). His was not a life of seclusion but rather one of vigorous activity as an author, builder, and joyful teacher. When circumstances demanded, he communicated with a small chalkboard upon which he scribbled cryptic notes, and though his voice was silent, he spoke abundantly with his eyes, expression and bearing, displaying an inner power that attracted all who came into his orbit. Known affectionately as “Babaji” to his disciples, Baba Hari Dass left his body on 25 September, 2018 at the age of 95.  

When I was a young man, new to spiritual practices, I first met Baba Hari Dass in California. I had never encountered anyone such as him although I had heard of yogis who lived in mountain caves, but for someone to intentionally keep silent while engaged in a busy life was something I’d never considered. Intrigued by his example and spiritually eager, I decided to experiment with silence and see what happened.  

My first attempt lasted one day, away from opportunities to speak with others. Encouraged, I then tried practicing in the midst of my day-to-day life but, as you might imagine, that was not so easy. We often don’t notice a habit’s grip upon us until we try to change it and so it was for me. The effort to remain silent in the midst of others made me even more restless than before but nevertheless, I persisted and by the second day, my thoughts had calmed and the desire to mix with others melted away.  For convenience, I pinned a little note onto my shirt that said “Please excuse me, I’m practicing silence today.” At that time of my life, I was fortunate enough to live in an ashram, surrounded by supportive friends, but even in less supportive environments, I found it possible to practice with a little bit of extra effort.

Silence awakened me to how much physical and “psychic” energy is lost through “chatter.” To my surprise, after a day or two of silence, I felt physically energized and needed less sleep. What I had thought so important to share didn’t need to be said at all and no longer did it seem necessary for me to “add my two cents” to every discussion, big or small. An inner relaxation came and I put aside my compulsion to interject my opinion into others’ conversations. Thomas Merton, a Christian mystic, once said, “It is not speaking that breaks our silence, but the anxiety to be heard.” That anxiety well describes the popularity of social media and the ego’s compulsion “to be heard” and assert its existence.  

The deeper purpose of restraining speech is, of course, to nurture an inner stillness of heart, the goal of meditation and the state in which love attains perfection. Saint Augustine reminds us, "Lord, Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in Thee". Inner silence, by calming the heart’s impulse to reach outside of itself, makes possible divine perception. After incarnations of searching elsewhere, we find fulfillment in God’s presence within.

Why not experiment and give silence a try? Here’s a few benefits you may notice after a very short time.

- You will gain control over your emotions, especially anger and criticism.

- Fewer useless thoughts will bother you.

- You will find more time to introspect.

- You will be better able to keep your attention at the spiritual eye.

- Practicing “maun” is a powerful complement to the practice of “Japa”.

- You will learn to listen. In growing silence, God’s whispers are heard.

Look for Opportunities

Years ago, Sadhana Devi and I were asked by Swami Kriyananda to become Directors of an Ananda meditation retreat established on the East Coast of America. That was a big change for us native Californians as we had both been staying at Ananda Village for many years. Naturally, I was curious about our future duties.

A few weeks later, I had the good fortune to sit directly across from Swami Kriyananda at a luncheon. My mind was full of questions about our coming move as I waited for a break in the conversation to ask them.  When it came, I seized my chance. “Swamiji, we’ll be shifting to Rhode Island soon and I’m wondering if you have any advice.  What exactly are we to do?”  With hardly a pause, he looked at me and replied, “Look for opportunities and act on them!”  Saying nothing more, he continued with his meal. 

Over the years I’ve meditated on those words and have discovered layers of meaning within them. Opportunity presents itself every day but how often do we recognize it?  It often comes disguised as challenges and sometimes we find opportunity has been knocking at our door for years but we’ve failed to recognize it.  Often, one man sees his path blocked while another sees the same barriers as a signal to turn left or right.  

I remember an old story of two shoe salesmen who sailed to a foreign land.  Upon disembarking, the first noticed the locals were barefoot as it was the custom in those parts to go without shoes.  He sent a telegram back to his office, “Returning home. No hope for shoe sales here.” The second salesman, noticing the same conditions, immediately wired, “Great opportunity!  Send more shoes immediately!”

The perception of opportunity demands a willingness to look for it as well as an openness of heart and mind to perceive it. The opportunistic man has an ability to see life in fresh, new ways.  Creative inspiration is the product of a developed intuition, the same “sixth sense” through which we experience divinity.  Paramhansa Yogananda defined intuition as the “direct perception of reality,” without the intermediary of the physical senses.  It is the direct fruit of daily meditation and our practice of kriya yoga.  

Let’s be like the second salesman and open our eyes to possibilities. Then act! Don’t be a bystander. An enthusiastic response to whatever life offers will clarify your vision and magnetically draw additional opportunities.  By sensitive receptivity and positive, willing action, success will come.  

Stillness is the Altar of Spirit

As a child in Los Angeles, Nayaswami Dhyana, Ananda Sangha India’s Spiritual Director, attended church every Sunday with her mother.  African American congregations are noted for their exuberance and lively spirit and her church was no exception. Dhyanaji once laughingly commented upon her minister’s Sunday discourse on the oft-quoted Biblical verse, “Be still and know that I am God.” “I can assure you,” she said, “Nobody was ever still in my church!” 

“Stillness is the altar of Spirit. Where motion ceases, Spirit begins to manifest.” Paramhansa Yogananda was referring to the “inner stillness” behind the outer world of emotions, sense enjoyments, desires and restless thoughts. At the still center of all vibratory motion, the soul perceives love, bliss, infinite peace and the mystical sounds of Aum. 

Sri Yukteswar tells of his once meeting Mahavatar Babaji in Serampore. When he excitedly rushed home to return with an offering of sweets, Babaji had disappeared. The great guru later explained, “I assure you that I was fairly extinguished in the ether by the gust of your restlessness.” So it is with us, a hundred-fold. Only when motion ceases is God revealed.   

It's not possible to hear God’s whispers if we fidget and make only restless appeals. Stillness within comes when we first learn to be still without. I have found my daily meditation greatly improved simply by keeping my body absolutely still for an extended time. This is the essence of Patanjali’s meaning of asana in his Yoga Sutras, the ability to hold the body absolutely steady. Physical, mental and emotional movement draws our attention away from the stillness residing at the heart of all creation. 

Try this when you next meditate. Sit upright in a comfortable position, one that allows you to both relax your body while also maintaining a straight spine. With your eyes gently uplifted toward the spiritual eye, calm the breath and feel yourself to be a solid block of stone or a mighty mountain, immovable and rooted to your seat, impervious to the winds of change. Relax into this image and become infinitely heavy beyond the point of possible movement. Let not the slightest muscle move while you mentally affirm, “My mind is steadfast as a rock.” You will soon begin to forget your body as your spirit soars. 

Eventually, your attention will be drawn to one remaining obstacle to perfect physical stillness, the breath. Watch it intently. Lose yourself in concentration upon the breath and the pauses between. You will find it naturally and effortlessly calming until, at last, it too ceases to move. What freedom you will then feel. In breathlessness is deathlessness. 

Guruji said, “Free the mind with the steel knife of stillness. Cut loose your consciousness from the body. Use it no more as an excuse to accept limitations.” In the mirror of inner stillness, we will see God’s face reflected.

Magnetism

Walking past a bookstore in Guangzhou, China, a lady I know glanced at the display of newly released books in the front window.   Her attention was drawn to a picture of a long-haired man in robes.  Stopping, she studied the face more closely and spontaneously began to weep, overcome by an unexplained emotion.   Collecting herself, she continued her walk, but within a short distance she stopped again and was drawn back for second look at what had so moved her.  Again, tears came to her eyes as she entered and purchased a copy.  That book was the “Autobiography of a Yogi.”  

Dramatic as this story is, it‘s not unique.  I’ve heard similar accounts and, in fact, my own introduction to “The Autobiography” was much the same.  A recent graduate from college, I had been drifting aimlessly toward a career when I came upon the “AY” and my life radically changed course.  It was as if a door had opened, inviting me into another realm.  Swami Kriyananda too had a similar experience and later asked Yogananda about the book’s influence.  “Yes,” the Master said, “It’s because I put my ‘vibrations’ into it.”  

What did Yogananda mean by that?   Just as we know spoken words convey a speaker’s consciousness, so too does the written “voice” reveal an author’s character.  Some immediately attract us while others do the opposite, repelling us like a magnet.  That woman in China was sensitive to Yogananda’s “magnetism” which awakened long buried feelings and “memories”.  

The analogy of a magnet is particularly apt in the study of yoga.  From physics we learn of two ways to create one. The first is to place a bar of iron in close proximity to a strong magnet.  In time, the bar too becomes magnetized simply by being in association with the strong magnet.  For a spiritual aspirant, the lesson is obvious; put yourself in the company of those who are spiritually strong and your own strength increases. 

Yogananda often quoted a phrase from the Bible, “To all those who receivedhim, gave He power to become the Sons of God.” When with close disciples, rarely did he speak of philosophy or techniques, but instead he emphasized attunement to the guru.  “Be in tune,” he repeatedly advised.  To the receptive and willing heart that is “in tune”, the guru magnetically transfers his blessings.  

There is a second way to create a magnet.  By rotating a current of electricity around an iron bar, the bar’s molecules align themselves in a uniform north/south polarity to create a magnetic field.   Applying this principle to meditation and pranayam gives us the science of Kriya Yoga. Subtle pranic currents associated with the breath are rotated around the central “bar” of the spine, thereby aligning our scattered energies to create a magnetic pull upon the outward flow of life force which normally moves toward the senses and outward involvement.  Through daily practice and living in harmony with Nature’s Laws, the yogi withdraws his attention away from the bodily senses into the inner spine and from there, directs his life force upward toward the brain and superconscious bliss.

Magnetism is the secret of all spiritual and material success and is within our power to increase or change.  We draw to us those people, circumstances and opportunities with which we and our karma resonate.  Ask yourself, “To what am I magnetically attuned?”  Prosperity and health come not by karma alone but also by our power of attraction.  Change your magnetism and you will change your life.  

First published in 2016, Speaking Tree, Times of India

Forget the Past

Ed was a neighbor and eventually a friend who looked upon life with a humorous detachment.  He died a few years ago and I can imagine it was with a smile on his face.   Ed was also, as a young man, a bank robber.   Like most who take up that “profession,” he was captured and sent to prison, but a decade in jail didn’t harden him as it does many.  He served his time, studied, got along with others in difficult circumstances and came out looking to start life anew.   

After his release, Ed bounced from one job to another, keeping quiet about his past. Invariably, his prison time would eventually come to light and when it did, his employers’ and co-workers’ attitude toward him would subtly change.  Nothing might be said, but they showed less trust and his relationships with them cooled.

In the eyes of the world, and maybe even in his own, Ed couldn’t escape being an “ex-con” and treated as such.  He felt stigmatized but he was wise enough to do something about it and take a new approach.  When asked, “So Ed, what have you been doing up to now,” he began to casually reply with a smile and seemingly carefree tone, “Oh, nothing much.  I tried robbing banks for a few years but that didn’t work out too well. ” He’d then pause.  His forthright and unusual answer usually gained his listeners’ attention and combined with his relaxed manner, put them at ease enough to ask, “Really? Tell me about it.” Wouldn’t you too be interested in hearing his story? 

Ed had come to see his past as “youthful folly” from which he had learned painful lessons.  As time passed, he saw it as nothing other than an interesting story only, as if it had happened to someone else. In a real sense, that was true.  The old Ed was long gone and as a consequence, others too no longer saw him in that light, as a man not to be trusted.   

Ed’s story is an example of someone not allowing the past to define who and what he is now.  He refused to accept others’ definitions of who he was.  Swami Sri Yukeswar summed this up clearly in the Autobiography of a Yogi, “The past lives of all men are dark with many shames.  Everything in future will improve if we make the right spiritual effort now.”

Our personality is but “clothing” we wear for a short time, remnants we carry from one lifetime to the next, but they are not who we truly are. First and foremost, we are children of God; let that be our self-identity.  Others may choose to see us otherwise but we need not accept their view; the choice is always ours.  When we relax our hold on the past, the past begins to let go of us.  Remembrances of past lives are then seen as but a panorama of light and shade on the screen of duality.     

We are all “works in progress.” Be honest with both yourself and others but don’t advertise your faults either, lest others’ perceptions strengthen your own identification with past mistakes.  Don’t cling to them.   As Ed aged, he rarely mentioned his past as there was no need.  He had accepted it for what it was, an ancient history for which he held karmic responsibility, but he refused to allow it to define who he was now. “Ed, the Bank Robber” had become simply an amusing character from a long time ago.

Shopping for Butter

There is a small grocery not far from my flat in Pune where I shop for daily needs – fruit, milk, bread and, sometimes, butter.  These small “kirana” stores are like old-time groceries in the USA where the shopkeeper sits behind the counter and retrieves the items you ask for.   Here’s a recent exchange.

"Hello sir.  How are you today?" I say. 

“It’s a good day. What do you need?” says Mr. Shopkeeper from behind his counter. 

“Do you have butter?”

“Butter?”

“Yes, I’d like some butter.”

“You want butter?”

 “Yes, butter,” I say

 “Butter?”  he asks.  I nod. 

Mr. Shopkeeper calls out in Marathi to his “boy” to get him some butter and puts a packet of herb/garlic spread on the counter. 

“No. No. I want plain butter only.”

“Yes, this is butter.”

“No. It says Herbs and Garlic.” 

“Yes, it’s very good.”

“Maybe, but I just want simple butter.”

“You want butter?”

“Yes, butter”

“But this is butter.” 

"I want simple butter."

"Butter?"

“Yes,” I say again, nodding. 

Mr. Shopkeeper calls out again to his “boy” who puts another packet on the counter, this time something called Nutrilite, a margarine “spread.”

“This is Nutrilite” I say, “It’s not butter.”

“This is butter.”

“No, it’s not.  See, it says ‘Nutrilite.’”

“Yes, it’s butter.”

“No, it’s not butter. It’s Nutrilite and not butter.  I want just plain butter.” 

“No cholesterol.”

“Yes, but it’s not butter.  It’s Nutrilite.” 

“No cholesterol is good.”

“Yes, but I want butter, not Nutrilite.”

By this time, the bread deliveryman, who's dropping off a few dozen loaves, can’t resist joining in.

“That’s butter,” he says, peering over my shoulder.

“No, it’s Nutrilite.  It’s not butter. They are different.”

“No sir.  It’s butter.” 

“No, they are different.”

“Yes, it’s butter.”

Mr. Shopkeeper smiles.  I take the package of Nutrilite outside into the sunshine where I can better read the ingredients and then return.

“Look here sir. See where it says ‘Fat Spread,’” pointing it out on the label.  “It’s not butter. It’s ‘Fat Spread.'”

Mr Shopkeeper and Mr. Deliveryman inspect the label closely.

“Same thing. Butter.”

“Maybe, but I want plain Amul (brand name) butter, not Fat Spread.  Do you have any?” 

Without a word, the “boy” reaches into the refrigerator and hands Mr. Shopkeeper a half-kilo block of Amul butter who wordlessly hands it to me.

“Yes, that’s fine.”  I pay for my purchases, put the butter into my sack, say “Thank you” and am on my way. 

Conclusion:  I think Mr. Shopkeeper was, in his own way, trying to be helpful.  Nutrilite is sometimes called “Nutrilite Butter” and some people actually like it.  I’m told the Herbs and Garlic spread is pretty good on toast and maybe he wanted me to give it a try.  Or, possibly,  Mr. Shopkeeper had an overstock of Nurtilite and was trying to unload it or he didn’t have a small packet of regular butter and didn't believe I’d be interested in buying a full half-kilo.  Whatever.  I found it amusing. 

The Carping Spirit

I was chatting recently with a gentleman about my regard for someone who seemed to be a good man and well intentioned.  My acquaintance remarked, “Yes, I agree, but …..” before proceeding to air his grievances about this person, pointing out one perceived fault after another.  I reflected on why my critic friend felt such a need to counter my innocuous, positive comment, with which he agreed, with his own list of negatives.  It’s a common habit. The mind, ever discontent, looks for, finds, and dwells upon imperfections.  “It’s a beautiful day, but….”  “That was a great meal, but……” “She’s a noble person, but…..”

                                                 

“I’m just being trying to see all sides,” some offer as an excuse but is this really true? More importantly, is it helpful to habitually look for imperfections?   Why must praise or compliments be tempered by perceived faults?  When a friend proudly invites you to visit his new home, do you make an inspection of the closets to find flaws?  Of course not; you say, “Congratulations” and offer a compliment.   

Incessant disgruntlement or feeling a need to “balance” positive observations with negative ones is a mental disease that feeds discontent and subtly attracts to us the very things we dislike.  How could they not come if we are constantly on the lookout for them?  Far from “seeing all sides,” we find ourselves exploring problems to such an extent that intuitive perception of higher, more expansive solutions to those same problems becomes impossible.   

I knew a man in India who incessantly found fault with everything: co-workers, group decisions, world affairs, family, current circumstances.  Within short order, new acquaintances learned to give him a wide berth or risk falling into his whirlpool of negativity.  The result was a self-made world without friends along with a festering sense of victimhood as being “misunderstood.”  “If things weren’t so rotten, I’d be different,” was his assessment, failing to see his suffering was self-inflicted.

Those infected with the carping spirit close doors to spiritual counsel or guidance from others or from the world around them.  This was Krishna’s point when he said to Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, “To you, who have overcome the carping spirit, I now reveal the sublime mystery.”  Arjuna, perfected in discipleship and with intellect purified, was receptive to what Krishna offered.  By overcoming the impulse toward attitudes that block attunement, he actively drew guidance from his guru.  

Rābiʿa al-Baṣrī, an eighth century Sufi mystic, said, “Yes” when asked, “Do you love God?” but surprised her audience when she was asked next, “Do you hate Satan?”  “No,” Rabi’a replied.  “My love for God leaves no room for hating Satan. My love for God has so possesses me that no place remains for loving or hating anyone save Him.”

Swami Kriyananda restated Rabi’a’s answer in one of his songs, “What we need is Light!  You can’t drive out the darkness with a stick.” When Light fills us, where can darkness dwell? Swamiji’s focus upon the heights was more than “positive thinking.” It recognized we do more than color our view of “reality” by our state of mind.  We actively participate in its creation and influence it to our benefit or ill.   Give energy to the good if you wish to attract the better angels of happiness into your life.