In 2013, about six months after Swami Kriyananda’s passing, Devi and I visited a “Nadi reader” in Bangalore, India. These readings, written thousands of years ago by an ancient lineage of seers and astrologers, give detailed information and advice regarding people yet to be born.

This year, 2020, marks the one hundredth anniversary of the launch of Paramhansa Yogananda’s world mission. The scope of his accomplishments in one lifetime was remarkable.

The Vedas teach that God manifests creation through the vibrations of AUM. Poetically, we might say that God sings creation into existence just as we might sing a song to express our thoughts and feelings.

I’ve come to realize that many are drawn to spiritual teachings because of their good karma generated from past efforts. Very few, however, continue to invest new energy into their spiritual life and build the kind of new karma that helps one remain loyal to the end.

Christmas Eve and the visit of a saintly presence hold important lessons. Two of them are the stillness of the moment before certain events, and the act of selfless giving.

Yogananda explained that the Biblical expression describing Jesus Christ as “the only begotten of the Father” refers not to the man, Jesus, but to the infinite Christ Consciousness with which he was identified. The word “Christ” is not a name, he went on to clarify, but a title meaning “the anointed one.”

We will be having our annual all-day Christmas meditation on December 23. This tradition was started by Paramhansa Yogananda, who suggested that we should celebrate a “spiritual Christmas” with a long meditation as well as a “social Christmas.”

“Isn’t it self-evident?” you may ask yourself. Yet when we look at the rising divorce rate, the incidence of abused or neglected children, and the escalating expressions of hatred and violence throughout the world, it seems clear that most people have forgotten the art of loving.

This is a story about Mullah Nasreddin, one of innumerable tales about the mischievous Sufi mystic of thirteenth-century Turkey.

As we watched it, the river seemed to be telling us many things: of the constant change that is part of life; of the joy that comes when we enter into its flow; of the eternal consciousness that pervades everything.