Love & Devotion

I think I am finally getting a spark of understanding about what the Troubadors sang about, why Sufis beat their chests, and why martyrs have gone up in flames over their love of Jesus.  Something about the energy of this place and the light and peace in those who have been here longest, is challenging my deeply-held beliefs about devotion, trust, and sharing a spiritual path, and creating a small opening in my heart which may one day change the direction of my life.

It all began when we interns were told more about what a long-term commitment to Ananda means.  We had been hearing about the transformational effect of performing “kriya yoga”, but that in order to be initiated into the practice, one needs to make a vow of discipleship and accept Yogananda as their guru.  The path to awakening is 25% the effort of the devotee, 25% the guru’s guidance, and 50% the grace of God, and that relationship must be a solid foundation before more powerful practices are revealed.  I stiffened at these words. I left the Lutheran church as a teen because I could not reconcile my idea of truth with a personified, authoritarian force overseeing our lives, and I had only recently softened to including the words “God” and “Lord” in our daily songs and prayers.  I have also been wounded by trusting spiritual teachers who guided me towards personal and transformational inner experiences of other realities and the objective truth in a number of world religions, and then left me feeling used, betrayed, judged, and abandoned by their imperfections.  The experience soured me to all spiritual practices, dividing me from what had been a powerful connection with truths beyond this world, and it took me years to begin to rebuild my own cautious relationship with something greater than myself through trusting dreams, animal guides, and my own inner voice.  These have recently led me through many difficult choices and precarious relationships, and I defend them from outside interference.  I am highly suspect of any person or group that offers to become involved in something as intimate and vital as the best way for me to fulfill my purpose on being on this earth.  This revelation about the foundational beliefs held by a community I had felt so joyful and at home within was upsetting and disorienting.  Although I knew from observing and talking with residents that no one would make my stay here contingent on taking discipleship, or on even adopting any specific practices, I also felt disappointed in knowing that because I was resistant to the path so many here embrace, I could not in good conscience make it my long-term home.

The spiritual director must have sensed my inner conflict, or perhaps heard the other interns sharing similar sentiments, because at the very next satsang teaching he played a 20-minute talk by Swami Kriyananda, the center’s founder, about the benefits of having a guru.  I understood the logic of finding someone with mastery to teach us something we have decided we want to learn, and of the benefits of receiving guidance from someone like Yogananda, who has fully awakened and can assist us from the other side..  But I still balked at the idea of surrendering the power to guide my life to something with a human face, no matter how enlightened.  Before I joined this community, I felt confident in my inner guides, my ability to attune to the deeper meaning of my life, and my growing tendency toward seeking solace in truly nourishing sources.  The trouble is, my path led me to this place, full of familiar and soothing ideas and practices, and an immediate sense of kinship, and I don’t believe in coincidences or in lightly brushing aside gifts that unfold in my life.  I also admit reluctantly that despite my recent victories, my sense of peace, faith, and commitment to healthy living are far from perfected, and I still lack clarity on my deepest gifts and the best way to share them with the world.

Then I attended “Meeting the Master”, a dramatization of the first-hand accounts of seven disciples’ experiences with Yogananda, put on by a troupe of actors visiting from Ananda Palo Alto.  The first two monologues felt comical and unrelatable, and left me cold.  I had spent the day running errands in town and was feeling the rush of urban life, my heart tight and mind skeptical.  Then Durgamata took the stage.  I do not remember the details of her story, but I felt my heart soften with each passing moment.  Tears of recognition welled at the gentle friendship she recounted having with Yogananda.  Then Gyanamata spoke about her deep reverence for him as something pure and sacred.  With each story that followed, I began to realize that each devotee entrusted themselves because they loved this man purely, fully, and unconditionally in their own unique way.  They studied in secret, they donated fortunes, they traveled across the country, they built retreat centers, they resigned themselves to love and obedience because something in this man sparked in them a profound sense of trust, of serenity, of sublime beauty.  As a channel, he did only what Divine Mother asked of him.  He asked no one to do anything that was contrary to god’s will.  And so they dedicated their lives to mastering his teachings and following his guidance, and when he was away, they ached.

In all the causes I have taken up, in all my efforts to improve myself, in all the teachers I have trusted, and in all the men I have adored, I have simply wanted something as pure and unconditional as what I saw in these disciples’ love for a truly great master, a master who channeled the love and abundance of the great beyond into practical works in this world with a radiance of being we humans are designed by our communal nature to crave.  At the core of my preoccupation with sex and romance is the deep desire to share one sincere, bottomless gaze, seeing through their eyes the abundant warmth and solace of eternity.  All of these crushes and all of these life visions that have inspired me are gateways to love in its purest form, which has nothing to do with discipline or sacrifice or proving a point.  It is simply the movement of a genuine reverence for life that leads a person plunging into a frozen river to save someone who is drowning, that courses through each of us at the sight of a beloved friend or lover, that has inspired me to put aside my fatigue and my pride to ease someone’s burden.  My reward is simply to feel that energy coursing through me, and to feel a part of the miracle of everything that breathes.  The heart-break over my last relationship, the one I grieved so long and so irrationally, wasn’t about losing that particular person.  It was about how good it felt to give to ardently and feeling that channel in me close.

Through listening to my inner guide, my life has taken on new meaning and direction.  I have the sky and trees to comfort me.  And I have a new-found faith in my own courage and resilience.  The only thing missing just happens to also be the most important thing: a sustained experience of that depth of love that acts without a second thought in the best interest of what it adores.  It is more than just a sense of being protected and guided by animal totems and cosmic rhythms, but feeling the warmth of mutual human affection and trusted companionship.  An idea can only take us so far.  Then we want a pair of arms to hold us, a pair of eyes to inspire us, someone to serve and belong to.  I have resigned myself to living without this, to wandering alone in the world in search of what magic it holds because the compromises of mutual imperfection I have so far found aren’t worth sacrificing my freedom.

Perhaps my mistake has been believing I can only find  this nourishing, mutual love in people who are as flawed and fallible as I am.  I’m beginning to open to the idea that there may be a being out there waiting for me – one who will reveal themselves when I am ready, one whose wisdom will always guide me towards my own best interests and whose compassion will take the utmost care of the unconditional love and devotion I give.  And if my guru is not Yogananda, I am told, he will lead me to the one who is.

Nancy