Introduction to blog 6 – My Journey in Om Divine Grace Yoga.

Blog six is about my Journey in Om Divine Grace Yoga, which is spread over 58 years.  Blog one to five contain the introduction, overview and contents of this yogic pathway. I have written about the content in different places my previous books. I have revised that material with commentary and guidance. Om Divine Grace Yoga is designed to enable practical use by a spiritual practitioner interested in this pathway. Of course anything here can be approached as just reading matter of interest.

Historically, this pathway is approached via a Guru for initiation and guidance. In our modern world this might not be feasible or practical, given the nature of this dark era (Kali Yuga). It may not be possible to get a guru who can assist you in this area.

It is necessary now to offer this spiritual pathway and process as an option for any practitioner, desiring spiritual progress. I have therefore taken excepts from my autobiography as relating to my spiritual “progress” only, & added additional sources to chronicle or map my own spiritual advances over the years, which has culminated in this  proposed book of guidance into Om Divine Grace Yoga.

Part one is about my spiritual development in India with my first guru, spread over four years. The modified autobiographical excerpts are from my book English Man, Beggar-Man, Holy-Man. You can also read this book here on this site, under “Books”.

A lot of my guidance came from the Inner Guru, which can be accessed to get “initiation” and awakening. This component is an important part of my Om Divine Grace Yoga experience, and can be understood with the explanation of how it worked for me.  If inner Divine Guidance is received, there will be appropriate clarity. (This guidance can also be accessed via surrender to ones chosen Deity). Good intent and practice is required for good results.

My Indian Journey towards Om Divine Grace Yoga

Part one

In 1965 I left England and I spent a year travelling overland until I reached India. I only planned to go as far as Istanbul.

However I found myself on what became known as the “hippy trail”.

I was 17 when I left home and 18 when I reached India.

I found myself in a spiritual centre called an ashram.

I met my first Guru, (my spiritual teacher) – a Swami & sannyasin renunciate in ochre robes. I never had at that time any intention of becoming a monk for the next 10 years.

My time on route to India and my ten years there are chronicled in English-Man, Beggar-Man, Holy-Man.

My first spiritual practice started in in the far north of India where the holy Ganges river meets the plains at Rishikesh. I went to the well-known Shivananda Ashram. This was the home of serious minded swamis and their largely Western devotees.Swami Shivananda who set up this ashram, had become well known in India and overseas, mainly through his prolific publications, which were all available in English. He had died some years before I reached his ashram – or rather he had “left his mortal coil”, as English speaking Indians like to term it. In this place a few dozen Western disciples resided. English was used by foreigner and Indian alike, and there was strict adherence to a daily programme of yoga, asanas (postures), meditation, and scriptural study.

I was given a room without furniture except a string bed, and provision was made for meals to be brought to me. Like the middle-aged ladies and gents who had arrived by plane, from, typically, America, Germany and Britain, I was expected to participate in the programme. Indeed I attended the early morning yoga exercise classes and meditated in the shrine of Swami Shivananda.

When I began to look for a guru who could guide me in the spiritual path to self-realization, I realized that I had arrived in the right country. I had traveled a long time not knowing what I was looking for. Now I felt that all my travels and wanderings would be useless if I did not stop and work towards achieving a degree of inner awareness or self-knowledge. I was quite prepared then to give up or change anything of my lifestyle or personality in order to attain what I felt I needed. I was ready to embark on a course of rigorous self-discipline if necessary. I wanted, more than I had ever wanted in my life, to achieve a level of deep spiritual insight – to become a yogi with mental and physical control over my life.

Since arriving in Rishikesh I had begun to sit in meditation and do yoga exercises early each morning and at sunset. I was finding it difficult to concentrate either because of mosquitoes or because of my own fidgeting. To sit even cross legged then was painful after about ten minutes. I despaired of achieving anything like the six hours daily that yogis were supposed to spend in the lotus posture. I thought that if I moved into the foothills of the Himalayas, I would be able to escape some of the heat and perhaps be able to concentrate better

I had decided to visit an ashram that was situated on the outskirts of Dehra Dun. I heard of this ashram from some Americans staying in Rishikesh, who had told me that the swami who lived there spoke excellent English and had a European disciple.

I meet the swamiji, (honorific term), who began to speak to me in very good English. He asked me then if I wished to stay for a few days, or months, or even years. I explained that I was interested in finding a guru who could teach me yoga and meditation, but that I did not have all that much interest in Hindu ritualism. He said that I needed to learn about the all the “paths” of bhakti yoga, (devotional observances), and karma^, yoga (selfless service). He said for most people a combination of methods was the only successful way. He also pointed out that to get anywhere in spiritual practice or sadhana one needed the guidance of a Sat, or True, Guru – a self-realized soul who could trigger the necessary changes. I decided there and then to stay and become a “disciple”, for a while at least! Quite soon I decided to go along with the Hindu ritualism for the sake of learning about yoga and meditation.

A few days after arriving at the ashram, I was given some white cotton cloth to wear instead of my tatty trousers and shirt. This cloth was in two metre lengths, which I simply wrapped around my waist to form a dhoti or draped around my shoulders to form my shawl. For underwear I was given some strips of cloth to make a langoti.  One strip was tied around my waist and the other, wider, piece I passed round the front of the waistband, between my legs, and tied it at the back of the waistband. Thus I was outfitted with the standard basic kit of all sadhus, or “holymen”, albeit in the white color used by celebate brahmacharis and not the orange of swamis or renunciate sannyasins.

When I first started to meditate, I found the whole experience very painful, mainly on account of the difficulty I felt sitting cross legged for any length of time. After sitting still for about five minutes my legs would begin firstly to ache mildly and then to send out signals of great pain. I felt that I had to sit as still as a rock to meditate and I found my lack of body flexibility very frustrating. I took to practicing yoga asanas, (postures) twice daily and began to achieve a degree of suppleness in my limbs.

It took me a few months before I could sit for half an hour in reasonable comfort, but much longer to achieve the lotus posture for even a short time. The lotus posture or padmasana is the recommended pose for all serious yogis as it makes possible an upright and straight spinal rigidity, which in turn helps the mind to be freed from bodily distractions. It took me about a year to achieve a comfortable padmasana, and several years before I could sit still for three hours at a stretch.

In meditation when I did manage to overcome sleepiness and thoughts about food, I often slipped into dreamy states and visualized all sorts of things totally unconnected with my new found spiritual life. I imagined scenes in which “Cowboys and Indians” fought battles similar to ones I had seen in films as a boy. I visualized pubs, musical groups, family scenes and events from the past, often with great vividness and appropriate colors. From talking to swamiji and reading yoga treatises I learnt that this mental activity was quite normal for the beginner, and was a cleansing phenomenon, because the memory facilities were being stimulated, by meditation. When a lot of the mind’s subconscious material had been “released”, then I found that I could meditate without thoughts and visions from this inner level, unless I chose to focus on something in particular.

I was initiated into two mantras by swamiji. Mantras are words which have a sacred and spiritual significance. I was told that the quickest way to self-realization and mental stillness was by repeating the mantras as frequently as possible until they became automatic. The repetition, or japa, would concentrate the mind, diverting it inwards from the outer world. When the mind became free from all thought patterns and only the mantra japa remained, then awareness of the inner peace and bliss would surface, as it were, and replace the different mental moods with an all-enveloping calmness.

Anxious to achieve results as quickly as I could, I began to repeat my sacred words over and over endlessly throughout the day. For the purposes of this japa, I was given some malas, or rosaries of Tulsi wood made from the sacred Indian basil plant. For wearing around my neck, I received some knobbly beads from the Rudraksha tree that grows in Nepal. Rudraksha means the “protection of Rudra” (Shiva). Almost all malas are made of 108 beads. This is the prescribed holy number pertaining to the 108 rishis (sages) who are represented as 108 stars. I was given one later made of 1008 Tulsi beads, a number again having religious significance.

Equipped with all the accoutrements of a serious sadhaka, or practitioner on the Hindu path, I began over the next few months to enter into a regular programme of serious meditation, japa, yoga, and study. Any spare time I spent helping in the gardens or in the three ashram temples. A few hours a day were also allocated to listening to swamiji’s lectures and discourses in the satsang. (Association-sang, with the wise-sat).

Along with my meditation, japa and studies, (mainly in Vedanta and the Upanishads), I was learning temple lore, and gaining insight into the path of bhakti. I learnt how to clean and prepare the temples and how to offer the flowers, incense and other materials whilst uttering the correct Sanskrit incantations. I began to learn hymns and excerpts from the “bible” of Hinduism – the Bhagavat Gita, in relatively simple Sanskrit. I had learned to read the Devanagari script. The interest in the spiritual language of Hinduism gave me, without studying any grammar, an ever-widening vocabulary of both Sanskrit and Hindi words. Within a year I was able to perform the complete temple service for the three small temples and began to do so on my own, to the astonishment of the local devotees who came to worship.

In my studies of the Hindu culture I became intrigued by the complexities and diversities of its past and present growth. To me, the most baffling aspect was, and still is, the combination of Vedic ritual, image or deity worship and the Advaita Vedanta, (pure Monism), and Yoga philosophies. All these major aspects contradict each other in many ways, sometimes going in totally opposite directions.

The Upanishads expound a philosophy at opposite poles to that of ritualism, sacrifice, and prayers for prosperity, and state that no real happiness can be obtained by following Vedic injunctions for the promulgation of wealth and material benefits. Vedanta (or the “end” of the Vedas), is thus the system which even is “anti” the Vedic gods. However, devotion to one’s guru (and in later works to one’s chosen deity), is strongly advocated in Vedanta treatises as a means towards gaining self-realization. It is also accepted however that Advaita or “a singularity of consciousness”, is the ultimate philosophy only for those who have purified themselves in the practices of bhakti, yoga or selfless actions.

I went along with swamiji him on all the tours he did for the first two years of my stay at the ashram. Through my travels I got to know the holy pilgrimage places from the inside. We also visited towns and cities, often staying in the luxurious homes of the wealthiest devotees. In these homes swamiji was accorded a high level of respect and shown great hospitality. This was due to his high position in the hierarchy of holy men. He was not only learned, but also a member of an orthodox sect of sannyasins, and he had elevated status even amongst other sannyasins. As well as this, his “ownership” of an established ashram made him important in terms of rank, placing him well above the other who were only resident in other’s property

I got fed up with the elaborate proceedings that accompanied these tours, the baggage handling, (that fell to me), the ritual observances, the lack of time to myself, and the demands made on me to become the ideal disciple.

At this time, I also became more and more interested in Shakti worship. Shakti is the female aspect of divine power and consciousness. The goddess whose image is most well-known and popular in India is Durga, a many armed figure seated on a tiger. Kali is less widely worshipped, except in Bengal. She has a dark – skinned image and is depicted as holding a sword, carrying a severed head and wearing a necklace of skulls. She is seen as a wild, savage goddess of destruction and in Calcutta, her most famous temple is to be found.

Other forms of Shakti include Saraswati (the goddess of learning or knowledge) and Lakshmi, (the goddess of wealth). The power of Shakti is also recognized as ^–the body dwelling Kundalini, the “coiled serpent” power that dwells at the base of the spine, waiting to be awakened by the right mantra or guru. When Kundalini rises in the body, the energy is perceived to travel upwards through various chakra centers, until it arrives at the thousand petal lotus flower in the crown of the head.

With full awakening, the yogi is supposed to drink the nectar of divine bliss from this chakra, and be elevated to a superconscious state of total knowledge. I was not to understand the mysteries of Kundalini until my later years in India, although I did try out various mantras used in Shakti worship (Not from swamiji but from my own studies.

I had been initiated by swamiji into various mantras associated with Vishnu and Shiva, but nothing had been taught to me about Shakti. I realized that swamiji himself performed a lot of Durga puja and this was his favorite deity. However he would not initiate me into any mantras in this line and told me that the ones I had were sufficient. It was after this that I began to use my own initiative as far as choice of sadhana and deities were concerned.

I started to study the relevant scriptural treatises (in Hindi and Sanskrit) and chose my own mantras, discarding the ones given to me by swamiji. I did not tell him of my new interests because at this time, three and a half years after my arrival, I was tending to go my own way in many other respects. Without making things too obvious, I avoided as much contact with him as possible. I had almost been convinced by him at one time that I should seek Indian citizenship.

Looking back over my years in the Dehra Dun ashram, I feel that in many ways I had arrived there as an extremely susceptible person. To a degree, I allowed myself to be brain washed. On arrival I had been traveling in an impoverished manner for nearly a year. I was young, at eighteen, and had smoked a lot of cannabis, which had dulled my mind to extent than I had not realized.

When I came to leave Dehra Dun after four years. I left surreptitiously at night, running away from this home as I had done before in England when aged seventeen. I was not able to communicate my wish to leave and go my own way to swamiji and his devotees. I knew I would be heavily criticized, even prevented from leaving somehow, and then I could leave only with huge difficulty.