Archives: Health and Healing

Dr. Aditya and the Clinic, Part 2

July 16th, 2010 by Nayaswami Jaya

The following is the second half of a two part interview with Dr. Aditya Gait, a resident medical doctor and member of Ananda’s Kriya Yoga Community in the countryside outside of Pune, India. Dr. Aditya is also a Brahmachari member of the Ananda Renunciate Order.

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Aditya and a fellow monk with Swami Kriyananda

Jaya: There are good hospitals in both Pune and in Lavasa, but what sort of medical facilities are in the neighborhood of Ananda? Are there clinics nearby?

Aditya: There are small clinics in Pirangut, about 17 kilometers away, but they are quite expensive for the villagers and not at all up to the mark. Few doctors are available and they often give incomplete treatment. Two government dispensaries are in the area where we are staying but the villagers aren’t happy with their service and, again, the medicines are expensive.

I’m getting my medicines from a company in Gujarat that was started by a group who is consciously keeping prices low. Their medicines are at par with any drug company in the world but at only around one tenth the cost. I’m also trying to keep my consultation fees affordable for the villagers. They are twenty rupees only.

Jaya: What sort of medical problems do you typically see in Watunde? What is the greatest need, locally?

Aditya: What you see mostly are the basic seasonal illnesses, asthma, and injuries. 60-70% of the ladies are deficient in iron and have anemia which leads to fatigue and pregnancy complications. Alcoholism is a problem but it takes time to gain people’s trust before it can be addressed. Malnutrition is not so common in the village but the tribal people who stay on the hilltop, some of them are malnourished.

In the long run, what will help most is better health education and reinforcement of things they already know but lack the initiative to do, such as better ways to cook food and how to grow healthier crops. They grow sugarcane as a cash crop but don’t grow spinach or other leafy, green vegetables. All of the villagers have cows but they don’t drink that milk. They sell it. We need to teach better hygiene also. The villagers know these things but are not putting them into practice.

Jaya: Who typically comes to you now for medical attention?

Aditya: The people who now come are from the local villages (Watunde, Borde and Kharawade) and from the tribal village on the hilltop. The local village population is around thirteen hundred but only three to four hundred are staying at any one time. On any given day, eight to ten are ill. Last year I had medical camps in two nearby villages and got a very good response.

I’m sure if we build a real clinic with local people involved, I can reach maybe ten to fifteen villages in the vicinity. Almost all the villagers now have to go to Pirangut and that can be expensive for them.

Jaya: Because you didn’t finish your residency, is there a problem with you operating a clinic and practicing medicine?

Aditya: I can serve as a General Practitioner but not as a Surgeon, but even as that, there are many surgical procedures I can do, especially in a life threatening situation or when in remote areas. When there is no one else to help, you have to do it. I do need a license to run a clinic and since I will also be the lab technician, I need a license for that too and in India, a special license is needed to run a chemist shop. Doctors don’t usually run chemist shops so I will need to explain the situation to see if they can give me that license. Those three things I need before I can run this clinic.

Jaya: Because you are not from this area, have you been well received?

Aditya: Yes. I had that doubt too at first, but the villagers are happy. They see me as an outsider but when they also see that I am here to help them and my prices are very competitive, it immediately breaks that barrier. Being from an ashram also helps because they feel we are service oriented.

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Watunde Village

You have to be absolutely selfless when serving in this way. There has to be no expectation that people should respect you because you are a doctor. In one of my rural clinics, someone came up to me and asked, “Where is your certificate? Where are you from? Why are you here? How much do you charge?” He was trying to intimidate me but in the end he shook my hand.

I was prepared for such things because I know that I am not from this part of the country. If you are absorbed in giving, you won’t have these problems. If you have expectations, things may go well for awhile but when something bad happens you will feel discouraged. You need patience. It takes time to build something and it takes time to build trust, but I could feel from day one that this is the right thing to do.

I’m learning to speak Marathi now which I only understood before but could not speak. Hopefully, by the time the clinic starts, I’ll at least be able to converse with the patients.

Jaya: What comes next? What is your plan?

Aditya: If we can provide basic care and provide for some emergencies, I think that is what is needed now. With the container now here, setting it up is the next thing. Maybe in a few months we can have a lab for basic investigations and a place where people can come for urine and blood tests. I’d like a small procedure room and at the very least, a supply of medicines. I already have a basic surgical kit. Also, once we have a space, maybe visiting doctors can come.

Soon, we’ll run an electric wire from the community to the clinic and we are expecting solar panels from the USA. As you can see, we have a lot of space and there are no trees around the container so we can put up those panels to provide electricity for when the regular power goes out. A water tank and a composting toilet are also in the plan. Already we are planting a small garden.

Jaya: That’s pretty ambitious. How are you able to fund it all?

Aditya: Up to now, it has been through donations, mostly from devotees in Pune. We have sent out mail seeking help in whatever form someone wants to offer it and have had a few replies. One devotee from America contributed a lot of surgical instruments, exactly the thing I needed.

I have kept prices very low, almost negligible, because I first must build a trust relationship with the local villagers. It isn’t my intention to make the clinic a profit-making business but I would like to see it grow and be financially stable to better serve people. Perhaps one day we can put it on enough of a healthy footing to attract more doctors and devotees who are in the healing professions.

In Maharasthra, we have the most health related NGO’s in rural areas in India, so a lot of doctors are service oriented in this part of the country. Many doctors want to serve but they find it difficult to take that initial step. I’ve also met doctors who are very keen on moving to our community but I can understand why, with families, they cannot abruptly leave everything to come here. I have to get things started first.

Jaya: At the moment, what is your biggest need?

Aditya: Honestly, for now, I need money to get set up and started, to buy the medicines, and to bring in electricity, waterlines and utilities. Today we have one container, but in time and with peoples’ help, we could have a permanent building where specialists could sit. I don’t see why people someday would not come from Pirangut or even Lavasa to get treatment here because it would be holistic and nice.

(Watunde Village is located at the base of the big hill in the background of the photo above. See the same hill in the previous village photo. The Ananda community is 50 meters behind the photographer.)

Jaya: What additional community projects are you working on, other than the clinic?

Aditya:  A lot has happened in the last one and a half years. At the monastery right now, we are putting up solar panels so as to have electricity and, later on, for the clinic. Also, we are trying to get a solar pump ready to bring water up and are making a composting toilet and a shower house. We just finished our meditation space. Initially, I was working in the garden and was buying supplies in the city one day each week for the community kitchen but now others have taken over those tasks.

Jaya:  What does your family think of all this?

Aditya:  They would be very happy if I came back home because my father has a clinic and he would be interested in having me help. They think I am just serving the rural areas and say, “Why don’t you see patients in the rural area over here?” But my aim is to serve Master’s work more than anything else. To be a channel in whatever way I can is the reason I am at Ananda. My mom is happy as she knows I am doing something good but my poor father doesn’t understand it at all. I love them and pray for them. I know Master will take of our souls.

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The famous blue container!

Jaya: What has been your greatest gain in this project?

Aditya: The immense satisfaction of serving: serving my guru, serving the local villagers, serving the ashram. Building a community and doing something for others to follow has brought me great satisfaction and contentment.

When Swamiji asked, “What do you think of a rural clinic?” I realized he didn’t want me to cut myself off from medicine. He was happy I had taken up this path but he also wanted me to serve. I’m happy to do so because I never disliked what I was doing before. It’s just that I like what I am doing now so much more. Swamiji asked me to do this thing and I know things will work out. This container seems so empty today but I have a strong belief that it is just the beginning for something much, much more.

Editor’s note: If you would like to contribute to the clinic project in Watunde Village, please write to us at our regular contact information. We can put you in touch with Dr. Aditya, explain his needs, and clarify the options available to you.

Dr. Aditya Gait and the Clinic, Part 1

July 9th, 2010 by Nayaswami Jaya

Aditya Gait is a member of Ananda Sangha helping to build a “Kriya Yoga Community” in the countryside outside of Pune, India.

He trained as a medical doctor before joining Ananda and is now beginning a medical clinic to serve the needs of local villagers and community members.

adityagait2.jpgAditya is a brahmachari member of the Ananda Renunciate Order and, in addition to his medical service, is actively engaged in the development of Ananda’s retreat and residential community.

The following is Part One of a two part interview conducted with Aditya in early July, 2010. He had recently purchased a shipping container from Mumbai and had placed it on a small parcel of land adjacent to our community with the intention of converting it into a small clinic.

In this first part of the interview, Aditya tells of his early interest in medicine and of his coming to Ananda. In the second part, he will speak of his plans for the clinic.

Jaya: For the past year, you have been working as a medical doctor with local villagers, traveling here and there to see patients. I see you have now bought a shipping container with plans to convert it into a small medical clinic. How is it going?

Aditya: Swamiji has asked me that exact same question, at least seven or eight times, since we first came to Pune. It’s practically his first question whenever he sees me.

I’ve been answering, “It’s going well,” but when he last came, I told him, “Swamiji, so many things are going on. I’m unable to focus all my attention on the clinic though I have been seeing patients.”

He said, “I understand, but it would be nice if you can do something with the clinic which at the same time does not take all your time.”

Jaya: Have you always wanted to be a doctor?

Aditya: Yes. I was always interested in general medicine but never in surgery.

After my internship, I applied for residency training at a hospital in New Delhi known for its program in community medicine. They told me, “Those seats are full, but we have one seat in rural surgery.”

It was a pilot program combining general surgery, orthopedics, obstetrics, and all of the surgical things needed by a rural doctor. I had never been particularly attracted to specializing in those subjects but when they put that tag “rural” in front of it, I was interested.

My sister is a psychiatrist and my father is a military physician and I thought, “I will be the surgeon,” and we could all serve together.

Jaya: What was it about rural medicine that attracted you?

Aditya: When in medical school in Pune, I was aiming to be an oncologist or a neurologist, but when I went for my internship in New Delhi, I saw that most of my patients had come from the rural areas. That made me ponder, “Why are so many people coming from the rural areas? Instead, we should be going there.”

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When someone was ill, the whole family would have to come into the city, often causing major complications because of the delay. I soon realized what was required and decided to serve in the rural areas. That didn’t go down well with my family but I was very content inside because I knew that if I was to serve as a doctor, this was the way it had to be.

Jaya: Did you enjoy your service as a doctor as you had expected?

Aditya: Yes, but when I saw patients I would think, “Why is this happening to them?” I would see people with chronic illnesses which had no cure and I would ponder about why it was so. In pediatric surgery, I saw small babies being operated upon and wondered, “Why is this happening to them?” It was hard to understand. You know, such difficult things are equally bad news for a doctor as for a patient.

I thought about karma and why things happen, but I couldn’t explain this to my patients in a way that would help them. Very few were receptive and once they are physically well, patients don’t come back. I found that disappointing because I wanted to give them so much more. Some days I was happy and some days wasn’t when unable to save somebody. Things eventually came to a point where I couldn’t go on like that.

All the while, I was desperately asking God for help and I eventually came to realize I needed to learn higher things than what I was then studying. I believed in prayer but I just didn’t know how it worked. I believed also in miracles like we read about in the lives of saints and I thought it would be good to learn those things too. But, who do you learn it from?

It was then that I read Autobiography of a Yogi. It answered almost all my questions. I was very certain Yogananda had been with me before. When he spoke of reincarnation, I thought, “He has been my guru!” From then on, I was always questioning and asking, “What does he want from me?”

Jaya: Is that when you came to know about Ananda?

Aditya: I came to know of Ananda just before starting my residency, and wrote a letter to Swamiji, telling him I was a doctor, of my interest in serving people and that I wanted to learn Kriya Yoga. I asked him to please tell me what I can do. I left my phone number and email address but didn’t hear back. When his reply didn’t come, I thought, “Master wants me to continue in medicine.” I thought this because I got my residency seat at the hospital under very miraculous conditions, I must say.

My application was already five months late and the seat was available only because somebody else had become ill and had left it. I was told, “Be at the hospital at nine o’clock in the morning and the head of the department will interview you.”

The next day, on my way to the hospital, I was entering the Delhi Metro when a beggar called out to me. I had only ten minutes but I thought I could give him two, so I said, “What’s your problem?” I could see he had rashes all over his hands and he was blind. He said, “Can you please tell me where the President of India sits? I have to meet him.”

This was a surprising question but I could see he was completely stable and not insane. I said, “That’s a very unusual request. How are you going to meet him?”

The fellow said, “He told me I can come see him at any time,” and he pulled out of his pocket a picture. There was the President Mr. Kalam, with that beggar! He had met him in Lucknow and the President had told him to come see him if he had any problem.

I asked him what his problem was and he said he needed Rs.2500 because he had been ill and spent everything he had on the clinic and private hospitals. “I don’t have money. I have not eaten for two days and my family has not eaten, so today if he can give me some money, I can go back home.”

His request was so simple. He would ask the President to give him some money.

That was the ninth day of Ram Nomi, so everything was closed. I thought, “If I leave him like this he will definitely not reach anywhere. Because I’m educated and a doctor, maybe the guards would let me get near the President’s office.”

Only the day before I had been reading in Swamiji’s book, The Essence of the Bhagavad Gita, the passage where Krishna says to Arjuna, “Oh Arjuna, as long as you think you can plan this and manage that, I will watch. But the day you offer your life completely to Me, I will take complete charge of it.”

I was so thrilled when I read that line, and I was thinking how nice it would be if God takes all charge. So, I said to God, “I’m taking this course for You and I want to help this man for You. Because You have put him in front of me, You must take care of my interview. I’m going with him.”

So I went with the beggar, and it was a very long day. At the President’s office we had problems and didn’t meet Mr. Kalam. Then I took him to an NGO but they could not help. I took him to a charitable person who also could not help. In the end, I had to pay him what money I had. He needed Rs.2500 and I had only Rs.1600, so I gave him that much.

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It was 3:30 in the afternoon when I left him, and by then I was wondering about that hospital interview I’d missed. I thought, “Let me go and check.”

I reached the hospital and knocked at that surgeon’s office but nobody answered. I peeped in and his secretary was sitting there. “Mam, is Dr. Khanduri there?” “Please wait,” she said.

I was sitting outside and eventually saw him coming along the corridor. I thought he might scold me as I stood to meet him.

I said, “Sir, I am Aditya. You asked me to come for the interview today.” “Oh my God!” he said, “I’m so sorry. I made you wait so long!” He hadn’t come to the hospital the whole day!

I didn’t want to tell him the whole story so I just said, “It’s fine, sir.”

He said, “I had to interview you. Anyway, you know what? You are the only person.” He asked for my mobile and called someone, “This is the only guy and he wants the seat.” I was through.

So the seat at the hospital was a precious gift and I didn’t want to leave it. I thought, “I should become a doctor. Maybe it’s not my good karma to meditate in this life,” but finally, things came to a point where I knew I wanted to heal people, but not in that way.

Jaya: Eventually, you decided to come to Ananda.

Aditya: Yes, I finished one month short of two years in the residency program and then I came to the ashram. Obviously, my friends and family were not happy with me. They said, “It’s just one more year,” but I knew I had to come.

Swamiji met me and said, “Do you have any questions?” I said, “No.” And he said, “Are you sure?” and I said “Yes.” And he said “Sure?” I thought, “There must be something,” and said, “Swamiji, I had this question a few days back when I was doing my residency. Everything was good. My teachers were good. My college was good. I was happy but I just felt it was incomplete so I came to seek God.” And he said, “Man’s highest responsibility is to find God and I think you have done the right thing by coming here.”

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Ananda Community near Pune

I was so relieved, but the very next thing he said to me was, “What do you think of a rural clinic?” I had given up my stethoscope, my books, everything, but I said, “OK.”

So this blue container is the result of all those things. I want to fill it back up with books and a stethoscope.

Part 2 of this interview will appear next week.

Self-Esteem Issues, Anyone?

April 14th, 2010 by Savitri

It’s a little hard for me to understand why I have self-acceptance or self-esteem issues.

I had a decent childhood, with no major abuse that I can remember. But certainly I’ve had this issue to deal with. And it certainly seems to me that this problem is epidemic in the world around me.

I thought I’d share some things I’ve learned about how to deal with the “I don’t like myself very much,” or “I’m not good enough,” or “I’m a complete failure” or “Others can do it, but I can’t” syndrome.

One place to start is a bit of introspection about the origin of issues like this. For me, I think it springs from two places:

1) Past incarnations in which I didn’t measure up to my own or others’ expectations of me.

2) Present incarnation, in which I never seemed to be successful enough, though I tried mightily.

Example: I was a good student and often, though not always, brought home straight-A report cards. Upon seeing one of these, my mother would say: “Why don’t you do this on every report card?”

And then there was the “sin thing.” Being raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught, from birth, that we are all sinners, damned to hell.

Please understand that I’m not (nor should you) blaming anybody or any circumstances of my life. I chose this life, my parents, my religious background, my personality—everything!—for purposes of learning the lessons I needed to learn in this life. (And so, by the way, did you!)

But please don’t dwell too long on the exact causes of low self-esteem, if you have trouble with it. The main thing to do is to ask: “What do I do about it?”

First suggestion: Avoid the ego trip of self-negation. “What???” You say. “How could an inferiority complex be egotistical?” It would seem to be just the opposite, right?

But Paramhansa Yogananda clearly stated that: “…an inferiority complex and a superiority complex are opposite sides of the same coin.”

It took me a while to understand this important statement, so let me give you an example from my life. When I first moved to Ananda, instead of feeling the bliss and total harmony with others here that I expected, and instead of having great meditations and going immediately into samadhi, I found myself judging myself severely and comparing myself to everybody else living here—they all seemed like real saints to me.

“It’s hard living here!” I thought. “They are strong. They can do all this meditation and attitude changing and working on themselves constantly. I’m simply not strong enough to do this all the time! They are courageous. I am a coward. I’m too weak. I should leave Ananda and not inflict myself on these great souls, thereby bringing down the wonderful vibrations at Ananda with my ICKY presence.”

Fortunately for me, I voiced these thoughts to a dear friend and fellow disciple. She thought it over and then said very sweetly, “By having such thoughts you are just being tricked by your own ego. Listen to yourself: ‘I am not this, and I am not that, and I can’t do this or that! I, I, I, me, me, me’!”

Wow! She was right, and I was able to hear this! So I sat right down and changed my attitude—almost on the spot! I started affirming (and still do): “Naughty or good, Divine Mother, I am your child. I am Master’s disciple. I am made in God’s infinite image. So what if I’m not perfect. That’s what I’m here to become! I am one with the Infinite AUM—that’s all that’s important! If I behave badly, that is not the essential me.” And there were many other such affirmations that came to me or are in Swami Kriyananda’s or Yogananda’s writings.

Another lesson: I met my husband, Sudarshan, here at Ananda. About a year after we were married in 1980, he said: “Savitri, I want to tell you something that I’ve been observing about you. You are a very kind person, very sweet, very loving. But you would never treat anybody as badly as you treat yourself. Why do you do this? Don’t you know you are being disrespectful to God within you?”

Wow, again! Again it was truly time for me to hear these words and really start trying to do something about it—to start treating myself better, as I would treat others, taking time to do fun things and to get enough rest and so on.

Show some respect for the God within you!

Swami Kriyananda has offered many worthwhile suggestions specifically for those who work with this challenge. In fact, he wrote a whole book about it called “Secrets of Self-Acceptance.” There’s a wonderful introduction to that book from which I quote:

“While traveling the road back to self-acceptance, bear in mind that you, in common with every other human being, are unique. The melody you have to sing is yours alone for all eternity. The role you have to play on Life’s stage can be played by no one else. Your allotted task is to learn to play it to perfection. That melody, however, or that role, belongs to a more expanded Selfhood than the realities you experience in your little ego. Transcend all limitation by contemplating ever-more-expanding vistas of reality. Ultimately, you will discover who you really are, behind all the ego masks that you—in common with most human beings. [Learn to move] from the ego-squeeze of self-rejection to the relaxation and joy that accompany self-expansion and total self-acceptance.”

Here’s one of my favorite “Secrets” from the same book: “The secret of self-acceptance is not identifying yourself with failure. Neither success nor failure can define you, who are made in the image of Infinite Perfection.”

And to close:
A suggested affirmation for the highest level of self-acceptance:

“No matter what happens to me or around me,
No matter what others think of me or what I do,
I love and value myself.
For I realize that I am not the little self only,
But also the greater Self,
Made by God, made in God’s image,
Ever-perfect, ever-free!”

Faith Is Our Armour: Tears a Rite of Passage

January 5th, 2010 by Tyagi Maitreyi

“Sue, I need to know what’s going on!  What’s happening?  Why are young people sick and dying all around me?” was a tearful telephone call to me at home from a distressed work colleague.

In the Intensive Care Unit where I work we see many deaths and tragedies of God’s Lila (Sanskrit for divine play), but to my colleague this was different. It was concerning a mutual friend who had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and was altogether too close to home for her.

She wanted answers.  Fortunately for me, being put ‘on the spot’, she already held a belief of reincarnation. I tried to expand on this by explaining as best I could, in brief, about the yogic teachings on the Law of Cause and Effect, or karma, of past lives and present. Karma is the sum total of actions and thoughts that cause an impartial reaction or return of like energy. This law is exact, impersonal and just is.

Reincarnation or rebirth continues until all karma is balanced or neutralized. If we view all that befalls us in this way, we can stay in equilibrium of the peaks and troughs of the illusion of physical duality, maya, and work quickly through our own karma.

Only one week later, I had to put my money where my mouth was.  My faith in all I had explained to my colleague was truly tested, as God’s Lila decided to play even closer to home.

I received the news that my own sister, only 2 years older than I, had a particularly aggressive form of brain tumour! Her prognosis is extremely poor, especially now it is evident she received multiple complications from the attempt to surgically remove it.

When the news of this ‘bomb-shell’ dropped on my family, they could not understand why life, as it had abruptly revealed itself to them in this instance, was so unfair.  Only two weeks ago she was walking round large as life.  She only had ‘a bit of a headache!’

It is not easy to explain to someone who has just received life-shattering news that it is not for us to reason why this law is taking my friend so early on in this life.  It is not for us to reason why my sister has been given a far from encouraging prognosis.

Who but God knows what karma my friend will expiate by leaving this life now? To what detriment if God’s will could possibly be negated and her life wrongly extended by the will of lesser knowing, but well intentioned, grieving family and friends?  What valuable lessons would be missed if my sister was to have this trial removed from her against, not God’s will, directly, but against the exact law of karma?

So where does faith come in? Amidst the sorrow of this play, I can clearly see three lessons my dear sister has learned, literally overnight, through this illness, that were not apparently mastered before.

Firstly, she has become utterly selfless, thinking only of others. Secondly, she is in total acceptance of what is, and thirdly, she has not complained once about plenty she could have done, and would have done prior to her illness, and she will not allow others around her to complain either.

What priceless wisdom she has discovered through this trial she faces on the physical plane. It may have taken a thousand more incarnations to learn these lessons if she had not received her personal karma; exactly what she is due and, as a consequence, will start her next incarnation in a more advanced state of spiritual awareness than this one.

I stress the point that, being impartial, this law is always just, meting out exactly the correct reaction to action taken either in this life, or in a former life, regardless of the outer appearance of the unfairness of it all.

But despite the sadness and tragedy of this drama playing out, the teachings of Yoganandaji teach us to view life from a higher vantage point.  Never were they so needed by me as at this time.

Amidst the suffering of my own family and friends, I can see blessings of hearts opening, of people putting others welfare before their own, of genuine empathy and desire to be of service to our dear friend and to my dear sister, and as described above, the personal evolution of souls. I view this last Christmas with my sister, spent at her hospital bedside and tending her needs, as a great blessing and privilege.

Yet because of my faith, I battled with myself for crying for her.  How could I call myself a renunciate, living beyond the bonds of human attachment, if I was crying for my sister?  I must be being selfish, crying for myself, yet that concept was abhorrent to me.  I truly believe in my heart all I have stated here; therefore I shouldn’t feel the need to cry…..  I was so troubled by this that I asked a dear friend and Kriyacharia (teacher of Kriya), at Ananda, this question.

Before he could reply, the question I put was evidently put to the Guru also, because only 2 hrs later I had the answer, from the Guru.  I ‘just happened’ to be flicking through Whispers From Eternity, by Paramhansa Yogananda and came across prayer #192, Teach Me to See Thine Omnipresent Spirit Suffering in the Sick.  The last few lines hit me:

“Teach me to sympathize with the cries, needs and suffering of others, that I may be as eager to free them from those burdens as I would be to free myself.

“Sorrowing, struggling, weeping, and smiling in empathy to the needs of all, may I at last find my soul’s real identity with all.”

Master had shown me in that moment that I weep in empathy for all.  That it is alright for us to cry for others, even with the understanding that all is God’s will.  That it is not that we are weak and selfish of our own needs of comfort, as I had accused myself, but that our hearts must open to the plight of others around us for us to enter into His Kingdom.

And finally, you know what truly sustains me through all of this? What sustains all firmly on this chosen path?  That despite the self-perpetuating flux of tragedy and elation, there is one true constant.  The immutable bliss of infinite power, God.  All else is illusion, changeable and impermanent.

Even now, as I write these words and pause just for a second to focus my eyes and attention to the centre of the brow… there It is! Instantaneous, ever-new Bliss.  Every time!

Without faith we are lost; abandoned in this world and at the mercy of fear born of ignorance.  Without the tears of compassion we will never be truly free of our limiting selves.

Tears Before Dawn

When God calls time
On a dear and cherished lamb,
Know that He is smiling,
As He cradles in His hand
A soul of pure perfection,
Ever-joyful, ever-new;
A soul with no corruption from a life of dimmer view.

Know that all the karma
Meted out this life
Has all been for the purpose
Of everlasting life.

Not until is ready does God recall His own,
And when He does bestill life’s blood
He draws us nearer home.

Then all events preceding
Compile a Great Review;
To see, in life, what came of strife
And plan the next life due.

And so, we cry, those left behind,
Not having understanding
That our dear ones live,
Despite the flesh,
And return with an upper hand,
Until the day all recompense
Is paid and duly spent,
The day that God extends His hand
For good, O precious lambs.

Joy to you,

Sue

Discovering Joy

November 14th, 2009 by Lorna Knox

Dear Friends,

Writing and posting on this site has been moved up the priority list in my life; I hope to be sharing more regularly with you. Paramhansa Yogananda said we should regulate our lives – approach our days with a sense of order. We also have to flow with life and be willing to change our priorities when circumstances present new opportunities for growth, service, and self-forgetfulness.

The challenge for me lies in finding the middle ground. I err on the side of fluidity and willingness to do what needs doing in the moment. But I find that the balls I drop often never get picked up again. So here I am, picking up the ball again and reenergizing my desire to be part of this sharing about Ananda.

It helps that I am feeling full of gratitude for the teachings that come through Ananda and the great souls who are a part of this movement of consciousness. Every part of my life is changed and uplifted when I pick it up with the idea that my true nature is joy and everything I do can awaken that joy.

Here at Ananda Portland we have had a very busy season of joyful offerings and special guests. David Eby, friend and director of Ananda music worldwide, came here to visit and share his attunement with the expression of joy in music. We had an amazing weekend of learning and practicing and then sharing the music in a concert of choral and instrumental masterpieces. Every aspect of the spiritual life can be felt in the music of Swami Kriyananda, and there is no end to the inspiration that can be drawn from it.

Then another guest, Dana Lynne Andersen, came and shared her experience with tapping into joy through creativity and the visual arts. Her work has appeared as cover art on several books by Swami Kriyananda, but those are small representations of her full-size canvases that vibrate with light and superconscious expression of spirit. It is a wondrous thing to see what can happen when we allow divine energy to flow through us without resistance.

Right now we have the honor of hosting Lila Devi, founder of Spirit-in-Nature Essences. Through classes and individual consultations, she helps people discover their true nature and experience the inner joy that is always there. I had a flash of understanding into the “essence” of what she does when she said it is about “life force meeting life force”. We can access the more pure vibration of spirit that is within nature’s bounty to attune our vibration to a higher level. Just as we can change our vibration with the purity of superconscious music or superconscious creativity.

Ananda is a movement of consciousness – an awakening of our true potential as spiritual beings. To be awakening in the company of so many joy-filled souls is a blessing beyond imagining.

In divine friendship,
Lorna

Stories of Yogananda - Healing Light from Lahiri Mahasaya

February 28th, 2009 by Peter Kretzmann

Read the Stories of Yogananda Introduction

Mukunda’s parents were deeply devoted to Lahiri Mahasaya. They always kept a beautiful picture of Lahiri on a small altar in their home. Many times Mukunda could be found meditating in front of the altar with his mother. He learned to love Lahiri more and more as the years passed. Often, during his meditations Lahiri’s picture would change from a photograph to a living form and sit before the young Mukunda. However when he would try to reach out and touch the master’s feet, the vision would return to being a photograph again.

When Mukunda was eight years old, he became very ill. He was so sick that he couldn’t get up from bed. The doctors could do nothing and everyone was afraid that he might not live. Mukunda’s mother was very scared, but she had great faith in her guru. She motioned to the picture of Lahiri that hung on the wall above Mukunda’s bed. “Bow to him mentally!” She knew that Mukunda was too weak to do it physically. “If you really show your devotion and inwardly kneel before him, your life will be spared!”

Healing Light from Lahiri Mahasaya
Healing Light from Lahiri Mahasaya

As Mukunda gazed at the photograph a bright light came out of the picture and filled his whole body as well as the entire room. Instantly he was healed. His illness was gone and his strength returned. Yogananda knelt to touch his mother’s feet to thank her for her wondrous faith in her guru. Gyan Prabha repeatedly pressed her head against the little picture of Lahiri saying, “O omnipresent master, I thank thee that thou hath healed my son!” Mukunda realized that his mother had also seen that beautiful healing light that had come out of the photograph. Mukunda loved that photograph which had been given to his father by Lahiri himself.

Download the PDF The Healing Light from Lahiri Mahasaya (2.65 MB)

Think Like Swami Kriyananda

November 19th, 2008 by Lorna Knox

I’ve been on this path for almost 30 years and I’m just beginning to realize how much my consciousness has been changed by the teachings of Yogananda and the guidance and influence of Swami Kriyananda.

“How would he respond in this situation?” has become part of my thinking, and it is a remarkably easy way to keep myself centered and joyful. I have had the opportunity to know Swami Kriyananda, and observe him in many situations, but you can also get to know him through his music, his writings and his talks.

Recently, I was spending a great deal of time in the hospital, at my mother’s bedside. I’m a former nurse and my sister and I were actually providing all the hands-on care, short of dealing with the IV machine.

I would arrive in the wee hours of the morning, shortly after my sister went home to rest, and the nurses would welcome me with smiles. But one morning I came in through the E.R. entrance at 4am and the guard reluctantly called the floor for permission to let me through. The head nurse said no.

I got on the phone and kindly pleaded with her for “permission” to be with my mother. She was concerned I would disturb the other patients and I offered to sit in the waiting area if there was a problem, and she eventually agreed.

When I reached my mother’s room I tiptoed in and sat at her side, silently checking her breathing and the machines. The charge nurse came in and challenged me, giving every indication that if I left the room she would not let me back in. I was kind, but firm about staying put.

As I sat there in the dark, I considered the alternatives. I could accept the challenge and see the nurse as an adversary, then face a battle for bedside rights during the rest of my mother’s stay. Very unpleasant, and dangerous for my mother.

But when I visualized Swami Kriyananda in the same situation, I knew that was not what he would do. I prayed for guidance and understanding. I saw clearly that the nurse was really a loving soul, who had given her life in service to others. Perhaps she was surprised by our presence and didn’t like surprises. I knew from my own nursing experience that families are not always assets in patient care.

I prayed for her understanding, I asked God to bless her with calmness and I poured out my heartfelt gratitude for her skill and attention on behalf of all the patients. Then I refused to put any more negative energy into the situation.

The next night, she walked into the room while my sister and I were present and my mother was awake. After asking if I was the same person she had asked to leave the night before, she offered a sincere and sweet apology. I was stunned and touched, as she stood in front of my sister and mother, within earshot of the other patient, and said there was no excuse for her behavior.

I looked her in the eye, as Swami Kriyananda would, and told her we were very grateful for her concern and pleased with the care that was being provided. As we discussed my mother’s condition, she seemed to have a sudden inspiration and offered to move her to a private room that was becoming available later that night.

She personally made sure the move happened before her shift was over and treated us with loving-kindness during the rest of our stay. The ER guard also inexplicably changed, greeting me with a cheerful smile and escorting me through like an old friend, regardless of the hour.

Swami Kriyananda always treats others as souls, with the highest potential. Every time I remember to do the same, grace flows through the situation and I can feel God’s presence. Try thinking like him, and see the positive changes that will come, because you have opened the door to the highest within yourself.

In loving friendship,
Lorna