Nayaswami Jyotish, Author at Nayaswami Jyotish and Nayaswami Devi

We live in a sea of miracles, though we recognize only the big ones and ignore the small ones. In fact, most people can accept only big ones as true miracles at all. One of these occurred with Swami Kriyananda.

Malka, an elderly Indian woman, had come to Ananda Village with a pilgrimage group. After the pilgrimage ended, she went on to visit her sister in New York. Then tragedy struck—she fell and shattered her arm so badly that the surgeon didn’t know if he could set it. It might require amputation. Alone in a foreign country, frightened and in pain, she was unable to sleep. That night Swami Kriyananda walked into her room, sat on her bed, and began to gently stroke her arm. “Don’t worry, Malka, everything is going to be all right.” And so it was. The next day’s operation was a complete success.

The miracle part of the story was that Swamiji was in California at the time. When we told him about Malka, he said, “I have no knowledge of the event.” Then he added something we’ve never forgotten: “But the soul is perfectly capable of acting without permission from the ego.”

Big miracles are so obvious that only the hardened cynics can doubt, but small miracles happen to us every day, and usually we dismiss them as “lucky coincidences.” Such a miracle recently occurred in my own life.

I have a niece with a Ph.D. from Harvard. I got a message from her a few weeks ago. She has a daughter with autism and, being a scientist, was developing a protocol to work with autistic children. Many years ago, while a student in Washington state, she had studied Ananda Yoga. She now wanted to know if there were any yoga teachers whom she could work with online. We connected her to one of our main instructors at The Expanding Light, who also has an autistic child. Finding such a mutually beneficial pairing is, alone, a minor miracle.

But the story doesn’t end there. While at dinner in Seattle just two days ago, we mentioned this to our companions. It turns out that one of them was the very yoga teacher who trained my niece fifteen years ago. Not only that, but he has a Ph.D. in yoga from a university in Bangalore, India, where many studies have been done about yoga and autism. The combination is a match made in heaven!

Life itself is a miracle that God performs daily for us. Additionally, if we channel our willpower in a positive direction, God often subtly augments it. One time Devi wanted to buy a particular game, Apples to Apples, as a Christmas present for our family. She had searched in many stores to no avail. Giving up, she stopped to pick up a few items before coming home. In one of the checkout lines there was a mother struggling with a tired and whiny child. The other frazzled shoppers were avoiding that line, but Devi chose instead to stand behind them and offer silent prayers. When she was about to check out, she noticed the very game she had been searching for beside the cash register. “Is that available?” she asked. “Yes,” the clerk replied, “someone decided they didn’t want it, and we haven’t had time to return it to its shelf.” Mission accomplished—and another quiet miracle.

These small miracles, I would suggest, are more important than the big ones. They are a constant connection between us and God. But like a shy magician, He performs His small miracles without fanfare. It is up to us to be alert enough to recognize His hidden marvels in our lives.

Master begins his great book, Whispers from Eternity, with this prayer: “O Father, when I was blind I found not a door which led to Thee, but now that Thou hast opened my eyes I find doors everywhere: through the hearts of flowers, through the voice of friendship, through sweet memories of all lovely experiences. Every gust of my prayer opens a new door in the vast temple of Thy presence.”

In the presence of miracles,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:21):

As I write this, it is the one-hundredth anniversary of Swamiji’s birth. People from around the world of Ananda are sharing stories and photos and expressing their gratitude to him.

Devi and I shared many birthdays with Swamiji. Usually, the day would start with a small gathering of close friends for breakfast, pancakes almost always on the menu. These times were filled with friendship, laughter, and joy. Later in the afternoon or evening, there would be a larger gathering of community members and guests where the friendship, laughter, and joy had more room to expand.

One of my most memorable birthdays with Swamiji was in 1985, in a little village above Lake Como in Italy where the early months of Ananda’s work in Europe were unfolding. A small group of us had gathered at a table under a trellis of glicine—wisteria, as it is known in the West. The weather was warm, but the fellowship was warmer.

A young man we had never met had come for the weekend (Darshan, for those who know him). He was a musician, and had brought his violin. What luck—Swamiji was a musician and composer and just happened to have a piece, “Springtime in Romania,” that he had written for violin. Swamiji was in bliss as the notes flowed, finally bringing to life the melody he had heard only on his little keyboard.

An odd marvel frequently occurred on Swamiji’s birthday: the appearance of a rainbow. Often it was as a “glory” in a fluffy cloud in an otherwise blue sky. We always felt the rainbows were God’s personal gift to His beloved child, who had loved them since childhood as a reminder of the astral world.

As most of us know, Swamiji was a writer and lecturer, a singer and composer, and a wonderful leader. One time we were with him when he received a letter from a young man who noted many of Swamiji’s accomplishments, and then lamented how little he, himself, had been able to do. Swamiji paused and said, “I wish people wouldn’t say things like this. Don’t they realize that we’re all the same? I’ve just been at it a little while longer, that’s all.”

People are amazed at how much Swamiji accomplished in his lifetime—everyone except Swamiji, that is. He never saw himself as the doer, but simply as a channel through which God and Master could flow. If we want to understand him, we can’t do so from outside. We have to try to get inside his mind and see his life from his perspective. He didn’t identify with his personality or his accomplishments. He had one self-identification only: as a disciple of his great guru, Paramhansa Yogananda.

He once told us, “The whole purpose of the spiritual path is to dissolve the ego. This is done by longer, deeper meditation, and by seeing God as the Doer in everything.” This, I might add, is a perfect expression of his attunement with Master, and something that we can all strive to achieve.

It is customary to give a friend a gift on his birthday, but what can you give someone who not only has everything but is no longer in a physical body? Swamiji often said that his greatest joy, and our greatest gift to him, was seeing the sincere dedication of the seekers at Ananda. That precious gift of commitment, and our gratitude for his life, is something we can still offer him.

Swamiji, I thank you for the example of an ideal disciple. I thank you for your love and friendship. I thank you for shining your light so powerfully on the path that leads out of delusion.

As my birthday gift to you, I give you what you gave to Master. I give you my promise to do my best to align my every thought, word, action, and feeling in deep attunement to you and to the will of God that you modeled so beautifully.

Happy birthday, Swamiji.

Nayaswami Jyotish

P.S. Watch our talk from this week’s 100th birthday celebration.

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:28):

I would like to share one of the central qualities of Swami Kriyananda’s nature—his joy. His very name, Kriyananda, means joy through action and the practice of Kriya. He even said that “Kriya when done with joy will fill us with bliss.”

The teachings of India say that God beyond creation has three essential qualities: existence, awareness, and bliss—Sat, Chit, Ananda. Many people ask, “Why did God create the universe?” In India the typical answer is, “It is God’s lila, His play.”

I personally prefer Swamiji’s answer: “It is the very nature of joy to want to share itself. God created the universe so He could share His joy.”

Swamiji was always expressing joy in one way or another. It effervesced from his very being like a spring bubbling up from the depths of the earth. Here are a few ways I saw that fundamental essence expressed.

A Bubble of Joy. One time in the late 1980s, Swami and I visited Yogacharya Oliver Black at his community in Michigan, Song of the Morning Ranch. Yogacharya told us, “I’ve surrounded myself in a bubble of joy and I never let anything or anyone burst that bubble.”

One of his students related the following story: A fire destroyed their temple and, after a futile attempt to save it, Yogacharya retreated to his small home. That evening he came to dinner and seemed to be his normal, cheerful self. He explained, “For a few hours I lost my bubble of joy, but now I’ve got it back again.”

Swamiji, too, lived in a bubble of joy. The first temple at the Seclusion Retreat burned down in 1974. The next day Swamiji went into a local shop, and when the shopkeeper heard him singing as he entered, she said in amazement, “You are singing! When my house burned down, I cried for three months.”

He replied with a broad smile, “I lost the temple, not my voice!”

Joy Is the Solution. In 1976 Ananda Village also suffered a devastating fire, in which almost all of the homes were destroyed. Most people react to such a blow by contracting and becoming self-protective. Swami went the opposite direction—he went on a nationwide campaign that he called the Joy Tours. Night after night, city after city, he shared about God, Ananda, and the nature of joy. One of his main themes was, “Joy is the solution, not the reward.” Live with joy and everything else improves: your mental outlook, your health, your success, and above all, your relationship to God.

Humor. One expression of joy is humor. People love to laugh, and it is a great way to share God’s joy. Swamiji especially enjoyed the humor of P. G. Wodehouse, saying his innocent humor was like a “God’s eye” view of humanity. Often around special events, the word would begin to spread from friend to friend throughout Ananda Village: “He’s going to read a Wodehouse story tonight.” There are many delightful recordings of these stories, but be forewarned: Sometimes Swamiji is laughing so hard that you’ll have to wait awhile before the story proceeds.

The Joy of Giving. Swamiji had an incredibly generous nature and loved to give gifts. He told us, “If you have an urge for something, don’t try to suppress it. It is often better to buy the item and then give it away.”

Once, on that same trip, Swamiji and I visited Disney’s Epcot Center in Florida before going on to Song of the Morning. Epcot has little shops and activities from eleven different countries arranged around a lagoon. Swamiji, being a world citizen, loved to spend a morning visiting the various “nations.” In the Japanese shop, he saw a beautiful tea set and remarked, “That is so lovely that I would like to buy it, but I already have too many teapots at home.” The next day, the scene repeated itself. Finally, on our third and final day, he gave in and bought it.

A couple of weeks after our return, Swamiji visited our house with a slightly mischievous but joyful smile on his face and presented us with the tea set as a gift. We, in turn, often share both tea and the story with guests.

Yogananda said, “Just as the pianist is always thinking of music, so the lover of God is always thinking of Him. A divine joy feeds the brain, the heart, and the soul. That joy is God; He is ever new Joy.”*

A line from one of Swami’s songs goes, “There’s joy in the heavens! A smile on the mountains! And melody sings everywhere!” Let us live in that bubble of joy. It is the solution to everything that troubles us.

In Joy,

Nayaswami Jyotish

* The Divine Romance, Self-Realization Fellowship, p. 369.

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (9:53):

I am about to celebrate the 59th anniversary of my first meeting with Swami Kriyananda, on April 26, 1967. Here is how I describe that memorable day in the preface to my latest book, The Heart of Service:

My life changed forever on a warm Easter Sunday in the spring of 1967—though I didn’t know it at the time. It was early afternoon when I knocked on the door of Swami Kriyananda’s small apartment in San Francisco. After we introduced ourselves, he said, “I’m working on a project. Would you like to help?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. Those three words ended up reshaping the whole course of my life.

Kriyananda was preparing a mailing for a series of upcoming classes based on the meditation techniques of Paramhansa Yogananda. Looking back, I can see that within the first five minutes of meeting him, the major themes of my life had already been introduced: service, meditation, and the teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda. Not coincidentally, these are also the major themes of this book.

He always looked for ways to involve people in what he was doing.

I met and worked with Kriyananda before Ananda came into existence, and I thought you might enjoy a few stories from those early days—each highlighting a different one of Swamiji’s qualities.

After that memorable first meeting, I soon enrolled in his courses: an hour of hatha yoga followed immediately by instruction in meditation. Since it was the only way I could receive the teachings I was seeking, I attended every time he offered the course in San Francisco, where I was living at the time. After my third repeat, seeing that I was more than casually interested, Swami asked if I could help him with small tasks such as registering the students. This seemingly simple request highlighted one of Swamiji’s most important qualities: He always looked for ways to involve people in what he was doing. This characteristic became the bedrock of how he built Ananda.

My first Kriya Initiation was on December 22nd, 1967. I brought a small bouquet of brilliant yellow chrysanthemums, which were to be offered on the altar during the ceremony as a symbol of one’s devotion. A rather scattered devotee arrived late to the initiation and, having forgotten to bring his own flowers, took mine, which I had placed next to me on the floor. This left me with nothing to offer, which, surprisingly, became a major test for me: Was I so lacking in devotion that Master wouldn’t accept even an offering of flowers from me? Was I truly his disciple?

For the next week I fretted and pondered these questions but could not resolve the aching in my heart. Then Swamiji called. “Was it you who brought those lovely yellow flowers to the ceremony?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“They’re still fresh on the altar,” he said. “I’ve never seen flowers last so long.”

Swami Kriyananda at the Seclusion Retreat’s Common Dome, 1968.

My inner anguish dissolved completely. This revealed another of Swamiji’s gifts, which he demonstrated again and again: an uncanny ability to perceive and resolve people’s internal spiritual dilemmas.

The final story has to do with the first attempts to create what has become Ananda. Swamiji had acquired some land just three months before I met him. Among my happiest memories are the trips we took together to the Seclusion Retreat to build the first structures—simple geodesic domes. The land was completely undeveloped, no buildings existed, and we slept on the ground.

Our first attempt to build a small temple dome ended in disaster. Before we could attach the final pieces that would have made it structurally sound, the dome began to sag and then—surrendering to the force of gravity—collapsed into splinters. Evening had come, and nothing remained but to eat a simple dinner and sleep under the stars.

Swami and I lay down a few feet from each other. The next morning I heard him softly muttering something to himself. Having studied psychology, I immediately “understood” that he was processing his disappointment. Knowing I shouldn’t eavesdrop on a private conversation, I was nevertheless too curious not to listen closely.

I heard him quietly repeating, “Ah, joy. Ah, joy.”

This, too, became a landmark in my early discipleship, revealing yet another central characteristic of Swami: He walked his talk. He lived the teachings.

Those early days were filled with Swamiji’s energy and joy, which have remained in the heart of Ananda through all these many years.

With Joy,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (9:46):

Last Sunday was an eventful day. Devi and I led the Easter service in the morning and then, later in the day, our dear friend and longtime Ananda member, Nayaswami Nakin, passed away. Nakin, like so many Ananda members, was intelligent, serviceful, joy-filled, and delightfully stubborn. He was always ready to say YES! to whatever was asked.

In this case, he was ready to say yes to the passing of his body, which he didn’t see as death but as his next great adventure. Knowing that the end was approaching, he read and reread the chapter in Autobiography of a Yogi where Sri Yukteswar describes the astral plane in detail.  “I want to study up,” Nakin said, “so I’m ready when I arrive there.”

But this blog isn’t meant to be about Nakin. It is about the courage to begin again when we experience loss or change—something we all face on a regular basis. We need to look beyond loss and ask the harder spiritual question: What actually makes a fresh start possible?

Before we can make a fresh start, we need to deeply accept that what we had is now gone. For some, this means accepting the loss of a partner or parent. For others it is the loss of health or youth. And for others, it is the loss of hope, because world conditions or politics are counter to what they want. We know many people so committed to the past that they can neither see a worthwhile future nor live fully in the present. They have lost the ability to begin again.

As devotees, it is essential that we recognize that everything—including our pain—has a higher spiritual purpose. If we open ourselves to the grace of God and Guru, they will help us shed the old skin so that we can grow and expand. Often this requires sacrifice.

Swami Kriyananda in Assisi, Italy, during Easter, 2012.

Devi and I lived through one of the most difficult years of our lives when we helped to start Ananda’s work in Europe. We spent the coldest winter in a century in an unheated summer villa near Lake Como. Not only that, but we spent many months separated from our young son, who was in America. When Swamiji returned later in the year, he said lovingly, “I know this was a difficult time for you, and I’m sorry for that. But nothing great can start without someone doing tapasya”—sacrifice.

The crucifixion of Jesus was the sacrifice required to give birth to a new religion for the world. Master said, “Jesus signified himself as a ransom for the sins of many. With his divine powers, his body could never have been subjected to death by crucifixion if he had not willingly cooperated with the subtle cosmic law of cause and effect. He thus took on himself the consequences of others’ karma, especially that of his disciples. In this manner they were highly purified and made fit to receive the omnipresent consciousness which later descended on them.”

True transformation begins with surrendering to the will of God. When we attune our individual free will to the wisdom-guided will of God and Guru, a great power flows into us and gives us the courage to begin again.

Let us willingly and joyfully accept everything that comes to us—including loss—as a gift of God’s love.

In joy (and stubbornness),

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:48):

Many years ago, while living in Assisi, Swami Kriyananda took a seclusion very close to L’Eremo delle Carceri. This spot has a fascinating history. St. Francis and his brother monks often stayed there in the small caves that dot the hillside. In 1936 Yogananda visited Assisi and said that while he felt the presence of Jesus throughout the area, when he walked the paths of L’Eremo he actually saw him walking by his side.

During his seclusion, Swamiji was inspired to write The Festival of Light. At one point, he was wanting to relate the journey of the soul, and a story about a small bird popped into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to reject it, the little bird kept returning to his awareness. Finally, surrendering to the divine will, he wrote a poetic story of a little bird’s first flight as an analogy to our spiritual evolution. It ends with this thrilling answer to the question, “Is there no lasting purpose to our lives?”

[Creation] had but this for its design: The birth of life,

All of life is self-aware.

As we grow in self-awareness, we come to realize that we are made of infinite light and perfect joy. But how far does this web of self-awareness extend? Is it only humans and a few of the most evolved animals that are self-aware? Ah, no, my friend. All of life is self-aware—and, in fact, so is the entire universe, down to the subatomic particles.

A friend sent us a fascinating article about studies showing that every single cell is conscious. In one study of the mimosa plant, which famously folds its leaves when touched, a researcher repeatedly dropped mimosa plants from a small height. At first, they folded their leaves defensively, as expected. But after repeated drops, the plants learned that no harm came to them and stopped reacting to the shock. Not only that, they remembered this for at least a month. They had, in other words, learned and remembered—with no brain, no neurons, no nervous system.

Slime mold—a single-celled organism—has become the poster child for brainless intelligence. Cells that are normally separated will gather together into a snail-like form and crawl across the forest floor to find a new food source. In some experiments, slime molds have even solved mazes to reach food. Consciousness is everywhere!

Devi and I had a cat named Kitty—so christened by our young son. She would sit with us when we counseled people, and once, when a friend started to cry, Kitty jumped onto her lap and gently dried her tears with her paws. Pet people, of course, don’t need to be told of the intelligence and compassion of their animal friends—they see it daily.

Beyond the realm of living things, physicists are still struggling to explain how subatomic particles, once entangled, can communicate with each other instantaneously and across vast distances. Quantum entanglement may underlie many processes of life and thought that are otherwise inexplicable.

Interesting though all of these ideas are, what are the implications for us?

Let’s try to be more aware and more sensitive in our daily activities. The web of God’s consciousness is everywhere and in everything. If we calm our minds and pay attention, we can feel our connection with all that exists, and in that kinship, we feel God’s presence.

But let’s go beyond the impersonal and express not only kinship but also love and friendship to everyone. Master said that when we learn to ignore negativity and return only love, we disarm our foes. In this fractured and polarized world, love, friendship, and the kinship of all life are the best—and only—solution.

In friendship,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (9:54):

Have you ever felt the nagging sensation that you need to change something in yourself, but you don’t quite know what it is? The first step in overcoming a challenge is to bring it to the surface of your awareness and clearly identify it. If we don’t do this voluntarily, life will find a way of forcing us to face our issues.

Swami Kriyananda said, “We should rejoice when we see a fault in ourselves. It has always been there. Now that it has come to the surface, we can start to work on overcoming it.”

We had an interesting conversation with our son last week. He said, “I’ve spent the last year working with my shadow side.” He went on to explain that he has been trying to find the areas in himself that need work. But he wisely added, “First I have to accept the fact that I have a shadow side.” He was understanding the very essence of self-discovery.

It is important to maintain a certain impersonal distance in this process. While it is good to clarify an issue, we should be careful not to make it part of our self-identity. It is simply a habit that we have developed—and one that now needs to be dropped.

A friend told us that Swami Kriyananda helped her to do just this. She mentioned to him that it bothered her that she drank alcohol socially—and enjoyed it! Swami Kriyananda replied, “First of all, accept the fact that drinking is tamasic, and pulls your consciousness down. But it is just a habit, so don’t identify yourself as a drinker.” After that conversation, she never wanted nor had another drink.

How do you put these principles into practice in a way that will genuinely improve your life? First, accept that there are things in yourself that need to change, and then try to identify them. It’s not that hard. Simply get calm and observe what behaviors are disturbing your well-being. Often it will be a recurring pattern of negative reactions to a person or situation. Then choose one habit you’re willing to change, and begin the work of dropping it.

Be watchful, so that you catch it whenever it surfaces. Awareness is the first step in overcoming. Then bring to bear the spiritual tools we have been given: meditation, affirmation, and non-attachment. Give it to God and Guru, and ask for their help.

This same process plays out on a more inward level when we meditate. We will notice certain recurring patterns that keep the mind restless. Often, they aren’t negative in themselves—they simply don’t belong in meditation. Personally, I find that my concentration often drifts toward thinking about a project. This very morning, the need to write this blog kept intruding.

How do we work with this? The moment we become aware that the mind has wandered, bring it back gently but immediately to an inward focus. If we do this repeatedly, the mind will begin to interiorize. Concentrate on the breath and on the spiritual eye. Master said it is like a muddy puddle that has been stirred up—give it a little time, and the dirt begins to settle back to the bottom.

Speaking personally, the more I have matured, the simpler the spiritual path has become. My primary practice now is simply to deepen my attunement with Master—to follow his guidance, and sincerely ask that he take charge of my life, aligning my will with his God-attuned will.

For many years, these words from the Gita were just an inspiring phrase. Now I feel that they are God and Master speaking directly to me, and they have become the heart and soul of my spiritual practice:

“Again, hear now My supreme word, the most secret (and sacred) of all. Because you are dearly beloved by Me, I offer it now for your highest benefit. Absorb yourself in Me; be wholly devoted to Me, worship and bow to Me alone: So shall you undoubtedly reach Me. This I promise you faithfully, for you are dear to Me.”

In joy,

Nayaswami Jyotish

P.S. Crystal Clarity has just released a wonderful new app. If you would like to deepen your attunement with Master, give it a try.

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:59):

When one looks at the news, it is hard to make sense of what is happening in these turbulent times. Yet the more we focus on current events, the harder it becomes to see the bigger picture. Is there a deeper reason for this choppy sea we’re trying to navigate?

Last week, during the classes at our annual Inner Renewal Retreat, we explored this question at length. At the heart of today’s confusion is a growing tension between a Kali Yuga mentality—which seeks to keep things fixed as they were in the past—and a Dwapara Yuga consciousness that welcomes change, flexibility, and flow.

Think of a pan of water. When the energy is low, as in Kali Yuga, the water freezes into ice. It can then be cut into solid cubes and easily separated. The world, likewise, becomes divided into races, countries, and cultures. But in Dwapara Yuga, the temperature is rising, and the ice is melting. Many of today’s headlines reflect this very process: the clash between old and new visions of what the world should be. Ultimately, the question is a spiritual one—a question of self-identity: individual, national, and global.

These rapidly changing times will demand a great deal of adaptability. Artificial intelligence is already beginning to eliminate certain jobs—at present, primarily in software coding and other computer-related fields. And robots are already replacing manual labor in many areas. But the displacement of work will inevitably spread into many professions. Eventually, most jobs may be affected. What will happen to those whose sense of identity and self-worth is rooted in their position, income, or status?

Those of us who are spiritual seekers are especially fortunate. For years, we have been working to disentangle our identity from the material world and to recognize ourselves as eternal souls. In this respect, we are far better prepared to navigate these times than those whose identity is defined outwardly.

Our great line of masters have incarnated throughout history at pivotal moments of transition. In this age, they came to show us how to live happy, successful, and holy lives in the era of Dwapara Yuga. Paramhansa Yogananda, in particular, brought teachings and techniques specifically suited to this age of energy.

The real challenge before us is one of identity. Do we choose to be Kali Yuga citizens or Dwapara Yuga citizens? Do we cling to the past, or do we step courageously into the future?

In a 1951 interview, Paramhansa Yogananda was asked, “Would you like to give a message to the world?” From his response, we have distilled the qualities he said humanity must develop in these changing times—the essential qualities of a Dwapara Yuga citizen.

Ideal Qualities for Dwapara Yuga Citizens

There is a saying—often attributed to an ancient Chinese curse—“May you be born in interesting times.” Well, friends, we have certainly been born in interesting times. Yet I see this not as a curse, but as a blessing.

As seekers—and especially as disciples of this great line of masters—we have come to help spread light, uplift the world, and guide it into a more brilliant future. Because we, ourselves, have chosen to expand into the light, we could hardly ask for better conditions for spiritual growth.

Will it be easy or comfortable? No. Shedding old skin never is. But let us play our parts in this great drama with skill, courage, and enthusiasm.

In the light,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:59):

Spiritual growth becomes effortless when we learn the art of attunement.

Our latest Sunday service talk was on this very subject. Attuning our individual will—which is often encrusted with egoic desires and karma—to the divinely guided will of God and Guru is the heart and soul of the spiritual path. All else is secondary.

Each Sunday, we begin our morning service with a Vedic fire ceremony, in which we symbolically offer our devotion and past karma into the fire. This is followed by a Purification Ceremony, a more personalized form of self-offering, where individuals come to an Ananda Lightbearer and repeat, “I seek purification by the grace of God.” The minister responds, “The Master says, ‘Open your heart to me, and I will enter and take charge of your life.’”

Even if we had no other spiritual practice, opening our heart to God and allowing Him to take charge of our lives would suffice. We don’t, of course, need a ceremony or an intermediary to open ourselves to God. In fact, this should be a daily—indeed, a constant—practice. There are many ways to do this: thinking of God or Guru lovingly, feeling complete openness at the end of meditation, or chanting with concentration and devotion.

Of the hundreds of chants available, Swami Kriyananda most often chanted “Door of My Heart,” especially toward the end of his life. By that time, he had such an open heart that he could rarely speak of Yogananda without tears glistening in his eyes. The words are these, usually sung with each line repeated:

Door of my heart, open wide I keep for Thee.

This is also, perhaps, my personal favorite. We heard a beautiful story involving this chant from an Indian friend as we shared tea last week. He is a core member of one of Ananda’s centers in India and had recently attended a kirtan in which the group went very deeply into singing this particular chant.

The day following the kirtan, he began to experience some chest pains. Because he was scheduled for an international trip later in the week, he thought it would be wise to see a cardiologist. There was an excellent doctor who had once helped his mother, but that had been years ago, and our friend couldn’t remember his name. So he decided simply to go to the nearest hospital.

On the way, a friend called him and said, “I heard you were having chest pains—why don’t you see Dr. _____?”—and gave him the name of his mother’s cardiologist. Our friend immediately turned around, went to that doctor, and discovered that he had suffered a mild heart attack. A quick surgical procedure corrected the problem.

When we open our heart to the guru, as our friend had done, the guru really does enter and take charge of our life. Devi and I have heard many such stories over the years. When we place our full faith in God, seemingly magical things begin to happen. In Autobiography of a Yogi, there is an entire chapter—“Two Penniless Boys in Brindaban”—devoted to the truth that absolute faith in God can bring miracles into our lives.

But we don’t need to look to the Master—or even to a friend—to witness the miraculous intervention of God and Guru in the lives of those who have opened their hearts to them. We have all experienced many blessings from the Divine. Take a moment and reflect on your own life—perhaps on how you came onto the path. If you are perceptive, you will discover that many quiet miracles have already taken place.

“Open your heart to me, and I will enter and take charge of your life” is no idle promise. It is one of the strongest forces in creation—and the only essential spiritual practice. Techniques, attitudes, and all the wisdom of the masters are subsidiary.

Love is all you need.

With an open heart,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (8:56):

We generally think of bathing as taking a shower or bath to get clean. But there are many other ways to bathe. Let’s explore how bathing more consciously can greatly benefit us.

Because water cleans the skin, it has also been used symbolically to cleanse ourselves of sin and to prepare us for our next spiritual step. Baptism is a common rite in many religions. The Bible (Matthew 3:16–17) says:

“And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him: And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

In India, it is common to bathe in sacred waters, such as the Ganges, as a way to wash away sins. I was at a Kumbha Mela with Swami Kriyananda in 1974, when millions of pilgrims ended their devotions with a ritual bath in the Ganges.

Yet, we can’t really wash away sins with mere water.

Above Rishikesh, by Nayaswami Jyotish.

A sage meditated daily on the banks of the Ganges and noticed that a certain man came every morning at sunrise and plunged into the rushing waters. One morning the sage asked him, “Why do you come here every morning?”

The man replied, “When I bathe in the Ganges, it washes away all my sins.”

The sage chuckled and said, “Yes, that may be true, but they wait in the trees and jump back on you as soon as you come out.”

We bathe not only to rid ourselves of something we don’t want, but also in order to infuse ourselves with something we do want—extra energy or prana.

There is a Japanese practice called “forest bathing.” One walks slowly in the forest, breathing deeply, while deliberately engaging all of the senses: sight, sound, smell, and touch. It has been shown to lower stress and blood pressure while boosting immune function. Another healthy practice is to walk along the seashore or a river while soaking in the negative ions.

When we are attentive, we draw much more prana from nature. Swami Kriyananda told us that Yogananda taught ways of drawing energy from oxygen as well. Yogananda said that if you concentrate on the air that you breathe, you’ll draw a lot more energy than if you breathe absentmindedly. And that if, when sunbathing, you concentrate on the energy you’re drawing from the sun’s rays, you’ll be able to draw as much as a hundred times more energy from the sun than if you just lie there soaking it up.

There is an even more subtle kind of bathing—bathing ourselves with light. In the arati ceremony, a candle is lit, offered to God, and then offered to everyone attending. Using their hands, people draw the light over their heads, cleansing themselves in its rays.

It is important, however, to distinguish reality from symbolism. The candle is merely a symbol of God’s light, and bathing in the Ganges is also a symbol—of immersing our consciousness in the river of divine prana that flows in the deep spine. Even sunbathing is symbolic. Yogananda said that the sun in the sky is merely a symbol of the spiritual eye. It is better to sunbathe in the rays of the inner light.

Swami Kriyananda told us that Master’s technique of bathing the brain with the light of the spiritual eye involves concentrating on the spiritual eye so that your consciousness becomes attuned to the subtle vibration of this inner light. By focusing your attention there, Swamiji explained, your willpower increases, and more energy flows through the medulla oblongata, naturally forming the spiritual eye in the forehead. And that as your consciousness takes on the quality of this light, your whole being becomes filled with light and purity.

Lately, I’ve been ending my meditations by bathing my brain with light. After I’ve finished all the techniques, I look into the light in my forehead for as long as I can keep my mind still. Then, with deep awareness, I feel the inner light descending into my brain, imagining—and trying to feel—that it is infusing every neuron, amplifying the good tendencies and eliminating the negative. I help it along by remembering that the light is conscious, intelligent, and loving.

You, too, might like to try this most powerful type of bathing. Rather than using only water, air, or sunlight, it is far better to cleanse yourself from the inside out with God’s light.

In the light,

Nayaswami Jyotish

Listen to Jyotish as he first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (10:30):