Introduction to blog 8– My Personal Journey in Om Divine Grace Yoga.

Blog eight is about my continued journey in Om Divine Grace Yoga, which
is spread over 58 years. Blogs one to five contain the introduction,
overview and contents of this yogic pathway. Then in blog six I move on to a
personal spiritual journey over 58 years, which is not the broad autobiography.
I have written about the spiritual content in different places in my previous
books, just as I have written about the autobiographical content in different
places my previous books. I have revised all that material with commentary and
guidance, regarding the spiritual journey components. 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  material which is to become
a book of guidance into Om Divine Grace Yoga.

Part one, (starting at blog 6), is about my spiritual development in India
with my first guru, spread over four years. Then this is continued with my
years of pilgrimage wandering around mainly South India. 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”. Here
Part two is about meeting a Sat Guru, (:True Guru”), in India

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 result.

My Indian Journey towards Om Divine Grace Yoga

Part two – time with a Sat Guru

Up until now, since leaving my first guru, I had been searching^– for the teacher and path that would seem right for me. I wanted to feel that I had arrived on a spiritual plateau where I had full access to the inner guiding light. I had become half aware in terms of self-knowledge, but I felt unable to live my life as effectively as I wished. The next step after some months spent in Gujrat travelling the Narmada River, was to return towards Bombay, which has been renamed Mumbai. This was in order to visit the ashram of Swami Muktananda at Ganesh Puri. (Several hours away by bus). I had been hearing a lot about this place and of the wealthy guru with his large contingent of overseas followers living there.

Right from the start I could tell that this ashram was going to be unlike anything I had experienced so far in India. I got off the bus outside a long, ornate, concrete and marble building which had impressive temple domes at each end. It was surrounded by a high wall, and stretched alongside a narrow country lane that led only to the village called Ganesh Puri. A sparse, barren and hilly Maharastran landscape spread out in all directions, giving the place the effect of being an oasis in the desert. The scene was lent more impact by the fair skinned people milling about outside. The men were wearing sadhu type cloths in bright orange, red and maroon hues, topped with Day-Glo colored shirts. The women had equally bright saris or robes of similar colors. Many sported silk or wool hats, and quite a few of the men had shaved heads. The whole initial effect of this ashram and its inmates was somewhat surreal. To me it was like arriving at the “gates of heaven after traveling through the wilderness”. The place was made more impressive by the lush gardens and orchards, which spread out into the distance behind the other ashram buildings of which I had seen only a part during my approach by bus.

Set into the middle of the high wall was a large, ornate archway. There were devotee helpers in attendance at the gate, directing the regular flow of visitors to one end of the courtyard where there was a many tiered rack for shoes, which was supervised by another ashram resident. From the marbled courtyard one could walk barefoot into the large, central prayer hall which contained, at one end, the shrine and life size marble statue of the deceased guru, Swami Nityananda. Everything here was of the best materials and looked both sparklingly modern and pleasing in design. The whole ashram, as well as the village of Ganesh Puri, had developed around Swami Nityananda, who had been the guru of Swami Muktananda.

Having received spiritual powers and abilities from his master, Swami Muktananda had dedicated both the temple and his yoga method to him. Swami Nityananda had been acknowledged as a Siddha, a perfect soul – by the thousands of pilgrims who had poured into Ganesh Puri for his darshan when he was alive. They still came in droves both to visit his samadhi shrine at Ganesh Puri, and his now more widely known disciple, Swami Muktananda and his new ashram.

Swami Nityananda had possessed a huge, corpulent figure and spent his time reclining on a couch dressed only in a loincloth. He was considered to be a Jivan Mukta. (Enlightened saint). Devotees and pilgrims would file past him quietly paying their obeisance’s to receive his touch, which alone was reputed to be capable of bestowing great spiritual awakening. One such visitor who arrived to stay and serve his new found master was the forty year old Swami Muktananda. He had been wandering the length and breadth of India for years, searching for a perfect guru who would guide him to true self-knowledge. Swami Muktananda received a powerful blessing from Swami Nityananda, and was then told by him to go away, meditate, and achieve final perfection through Siddha Yoga. Siddha Yoga is the way to self-realization through worship of, and adherence to, the teachings of the perfect, or Siddha Guru. It requires the follower to depend upon the process called Shakti-Paat, where the guru bestows the necessary grace. Shakti-Paat awakens the disciple’s kundalini shakti; the sleeping “serpent power” coiled at the base of the spine.

In his mid-fifties, he took to wearing- bright, silky clothes, multi colored hats, and a variety of sunglasses. He traveled to Australia, Britain and America opening or creating Siddha Yoga centers wherever he went. He did not speak English or teach anything other than that concerning Siddha Yoga, the path to self-knowledge and connected aspects of the Hindu tradition. All his teachings and speeches were translated from Hindi. As the disciples and devotees from all over the world began flocking, so Swami Muktananda started giving out the brightly colored hats and shirts that were his own trademark. The ashram and its facilities grew at a rapid pace to accommodate the American and European disciples who wished to stay a few weeks or months. It became very popular also with the growing number of Bombay and Maharastran devotees.

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The whole place with its showcase trendiest did seem a bit bizarre at first to me. I had not seen anything like it during my stay in India. I had not been to, an ashram where hundreds of foreign disciples were wandering about, especially ones clad in sadhu type robes. In spite of my skepticism, I was interested in Swami Muktananda’s teachings as, to date, I had not come across a swami who was so clear in his advocacy of the Siddha Yoga path to awaken the Kundalini Shakti. When awakened, this serpent power eventually reaches the center or chakra situated at the crown of the head. The result is supposedly mukti, a freedom or liberation which is the same as nirvana, Zen awakening, or self-realization.

I knew that the awakening of Kundalini could be accompanied by various physical effects, resulting in aspirants going into different trance states, or breaking into bouts of spontaneous dance like movements, (like the whirling and twisting of dervishes). I had read that other effects could occur, like the seeing of bright lights or the hearing of inner music. Personally I was doubtful, not only of Kundalini, but also of Swami Muktananda’s professed power to awaken it in all and sundry.

I was told I could stay at the ashram as long as I liked by Swami Muktananda’s ashram manager, an ex-businessman who had wide control over everyday matters. (Swami Mluktananda was known as Babaji -a term of endearment and respect.

Everyone, including the weekend guests, participated in the same basic daily programme. This meant a few hours work, bhajans or chanting for two hours, and an evening session of half an hour or so in the prayer hall. People were also encouraged to to attend Babaii’s afternoon lectures. One was, however, free after attending the evening and morning prayers and doing a few hours work.

I found out very quickly that Swami Muktananda was a very powerful guru. He sat cross legged on his seat, sometimes jovial, sometimes fierce looking, but always emanating a kind of radiance. He looked at people with a penetrating gaze that seemed to be searching out unfathomable depths. I saw why he attracted so many. His presence and gaze were hypnotic. For all the outwardly playful, bubbling personality, one got the feeling that he was the wielder of some power and that he had been to a place where few had trodden. I found his aura almost frightening at times. I felt that he must have some of the same sort of power that creates presidents, dictators, popes, saints, and military giants like Napoleon or Alexander. I found it unnerving how his personal Shakti would draw devotees to stand around him all day, just staring and taking in his presence.

Babaji was in his sixties when I visited, but he looked much younger, and indeed attracted even young or teenage children of his Indian devotees. He sat, a slightly plumpish figure seemingly like a temple idol come to life, with his sparkling eyes and translucent complexion. I had no doubt about his abilities to attract any type of person from any position when I saw the effect he had on both his followers and casual visitors.

Many people in the morning and evening hymn chanting sessions would get up and move their bodies in rhythmical dance motions whilst in trance like states. In meditation anywhere in the ashram people would start to roll their torsos and heads around or start to inhale and exhale ferociously. Mass hypnosis? Perhaps? The atmosphere of the ashram seemed to have an almost drug like effect, and it certainly began to affect me after a few weeks.

As I had knowledge of Indian languages, I soon became a helper at the main entrance, and began to guide groups of Indian visitors around the ashram. I quite enjoyed my role and found that I had quite a coveted post. I had plenty of contact with ordinary day visitors and was thus able to remain somewhat aloof from the mass of disciples, whom I began to feel were over entranced by Swami Muktananda. They seemed so dependent on him, right down to their very reason for existence. This was in spite of the fact that Swami Muktananda preached repeatedly that the true self within is unique – find it and you yourself will be a Siddha and your own guru. I wondered why, if his disciples were truly following his teachings, they were so subservient to his person, like faithful pets.

In spite of my feelings about Babaji’s devotees, I too began to experience trance like states during my meditation and bhajan sessions in the ashram. I began to sway about and then get up and dance in an introspective, blissful mood. However, I rarely went to Babaji’s lectures nor did I go for darshan when Babaji was sitting in the courtyard. In fact I avoided him and tried to get on with doing my own thing, which was finding the guru within. I felt that I was getting the full benefit of whatever spiritual energy was floating around the ashram, even though I did very much as I wished with my spare time.

I found that I began to lose a lot of the lethargy that had been building up since I stopped doing practice and started traveling. I started going, to sleep at 9 p.m. and getting up at 2.a.m. in order to meditate for three hours before the morning communal session. I could go into meditation very easily whilst in the special underground rooms, and I attained there a deep and profound stillness of my mind. At the same time I felt that generally I had more mental clarity than I had known before.

I had begun to experience some peace and clearness of mind, and felt that Babaji was perhaps guiding me on an inner level. I still did not ask questions or seek his advice like most of his devotees, as I felt even more that the real inner Sat Guru would also guide me on a mental level, without the constant physical contacts. From what I experienced, I began to accept that Swami Mulaananda was able to guide and direct me without the verbal contact. Although I was not a worshipper of the physical Muktananda, or a disciple follower, I began to think that he was a Siddha and a Sat Guru for my immediate purposes.

I stayed at the ashram or ten months and only on three occasions went up to Babaji and asked for some advice. The first time was due to finding that various mantras kept popping up in my mind and turning themselves over and over in seemingly automatic repetition. When I approached Babaji about this he said that the inner Shakti contained all mantras, and the awakening of this as Kundalini was causing the up rise and outflow of them all. Siddhas, he said, had knowledge spontaneously of all mantras and their uses. He recommended that if I was in any doubt about any repetition of a mantra, then I should repeat Om Guru Om.

Om (or Aum) is the sacred word of Hinduism and is a mantra itself. It was also one into which I had been initiated in Dehra Dun. It is composed of A, U, and M in terms of sound and refers to the creation, sustenance and destruction of the universe. It also refers to the inner self, (Atma), in conjunction with the outer cosmic consciousness, (Brahma). The word Guru itself is used as a mantra because it is composed of two meaningful sound parts. Gu means “darkness” and ru “to remove”. Thus the literal meaning of Guru is “dispeller of darkness”.

As well as giving me a mantra, Babaji gave me a new name. He had heard that I had been given a nickname named a well know swami some months before. (It was London Giri. However, he said he thought the use of London with Giri was not very appropriate and suggested that I have a proper all Indian name. He told me that I should call myself Ganesh Giri, after Ganesh Puri, the name of the local village. Ganesh is actually the elephant form god in Hinduism, and is worshipped as the “remover of all obstacles”. (Giri means “mountain”). I was quite happy to use this new name and dropped completely my previous name with its memories.

On another occasion when I spoke to Swami Muktananda I was thinking about leaving, but was not sure what I was going to do next. I asked Babaji if he thought I would be doing the right thing if I continued my wanderings. He said that if I was not sure what to do next, I should stay for a while in the ashram until I had decided what I wanted to do. He then went on to tell me that I was English and I would always be an Englishman whatever I decided to do. He felt that there would be no problem if I wanted to return to England and resume whatever life I chose, as my spiritual status would be unaffected, as it was unnecessary for me to be either a sadhu or a Hindu. He said that I could carry on as a Christian! Also I would probably tire of being an Indian sadhu after a while. I was not at this stage thinking about returning to the West, but now I began to consider seriously again the pros and cons of it. I had been in India six years and, although I had not quite done all that I wanted to, I knew then in the back of my mind that I was going back “home” at some not too distant moment.

Eventually I decided to leave Ganesh Puri with; I felt, a higher degree of self-realization and a better approach to spiritual life. I wanted to find out if I had really changed through my contact with Swami Muktananda. I also wished to know if I had the ability to be a guru of others in India, and hoped to find some place to set up my own small ashram. I was not interested now in wandering in search of a guru. That, I felt, had been achieved and put behind me.

I had arrived in Ganesh Puri in December 1971- It was not until autumn 1972 that I set off on my travels once more. I wanted to find a place where I could settle down for a while.

After living in a number of areas around what was then called Bombay, I realised that I would never be happy near such a big city, and that if I was going to find a place for myself, I should head for a country area. I was getting bored with living; in ashrams established by other people, and felt that until I had my own place, I could not get to grips with a nagging question. Was I really Ganesh Giri, a Hindu holy man, and should I settle down to a life of devotion to this role? Or was I Raymond Pattison, with a totally different lifestyle and. destiny awaiting me in England? I did not wish to give up the sadhu life if I could be a successful Hindu guru. For all my spiritual progress, I had more ego than I had possessed before I started my spiritual journey in India!

It is documented in yogic scriptures that when a person starts to attain any degree of progress with yogic powers, he or she can be sidetracked very easily towards social and material benefits. My desire at that stage was not so much for money, but for social power. However according to the laws of karma, which is ones actions, people with great power and money have attained that position by their struggles or penances in previous lives.

In this view a spiritually minded person, who does good deeds and curbs the desire for rewards will not necessarily go on to heaven, but will be reborn into a suitable environment for further spiritual progress. This process continues until final and full self-realization is attained when the cycle of birth and rebirth is destroyed due to the absence of any self-centered desire

Over the next few years I did not attempt to change whatever destiny had been ordained by my own karma. I did not try very hard to assert myself as a guru of others, (in spite of my inner desires). I found that I was not attracting a following of any size. Eventually I came to the conclusion that my destiny lay elsewhere, and I was even not meant to be a Hindu. Perhaps this was for the best, as my motivation contained a lot of self-interest. In the light of karmic rules, had I become at all powerful, I would have lost the benefit of my years of sacrifice and endeavor. However, I did go on to have, at least in a very small way, an ashram of my own.

I spent the spring and summer of 1973 wandering all over a large area to the north of the Narmada. I was getting to know a lot of people in that region, with the consequence that some “devotees” were looking around their own village.

I landed in a village in a long way from any main roads. Kanod was in some respects a backwater, but there were friendly people keen to see that I became established at the little kutir or hut that I called home for three years.

I have written in depth regarding my stay. Spiritually the main thing is that my though processes mostly stopped. I had nothing to do so there was nothing to think about.

Days, weeks, and months rushed by without really registering themselves. I had no need to clock anything or to regard time as having any influence on me. Christmas and birthdays did not exist for me, and only the big Hindu festivities brought some change into my routine. I was not bothered sitting in my deck chair or cross legged on a rug, about what was happening in the world or how my own life was passing by rapidly. I read no newspapers, I had no radio, or even time piece, and I was not interested in village gossip. I was quite content for long periods to let my Prarabdha take its course.

Prarabdha is a Sanskrit term frequently seen in Vedanta texts. It means literally “the fruits of previous actions”. A sannyasin is not supposed to do any activity (karma), which would create fresh Prarabdha to be experienced in the next or after life. The ultimate, (and proper), state for such a person is to let the fruits or consequences of previous actions, spend themselves naturally with the passage of time. According to Vedanta theory, Moksha or liberation from the cycle of birth and re-birth is obtained in this manner, i.e. when all Prarabdha is exhausted. Prarabdha is thus the passing of time and events that occur quite spontaneously without push or interference. To passively enjoy or suffer ones Prarabdha might seem to be an extremely negative attitude to life in terms of Western ideals and culture. In the West, the more one does or achieves, (especially materially), the more one is honored or respected. In India the reverse can be true, and the person who renounces worldly striving and accomplishments is often revered by many as a holy sage or guru.

I did not become bored because I found even the most silent passage of time to be full of fascination. The day-to-day growth of a flower, or the scampering of a squirrel could hold my attention indefinitely. I did sometimes think that it would be interesting to be back in England, to use libraries, watch television and be entertained in numerous ways.

I developed then a clearly defined philosophic outlook on life, which was not to change with the passage of time. I gained a deep mental satisfaction from my knowledge of Vedanta, and I find to this day that it guides me towards a calmness and equipoise, which alleviate the ups and downs of everyday life. My practice of yoga brought me to a stage where I had, if I wished, a strong degree of control over my life. This sense of control over circumstances was, and is, mellowed by acceptance by the doctrines of karma and Prarabdha, which means some surrender to the inevitability of fate.

I have a belief that life’s events are enacted as ordained, which does work for our ultimate benefit. From this point of view the opposites of pain and pleasure, gain and loss, become equally acceptable. I had discovered that Mukti or Moksha is not a trance like state but simply the ability to accept the world as it is, and ourselves as we are. This does not preclude room for change, or personal endeavor, providing, that is, that one is able to be unaffected by success or failure. Also, that any objective or goal is itself not the only end. The journey, the effort, is also a goal. In terms of Self-Realization, what we seek to be or achieve is already within, already available.

The Self within, is so near and yet so hard to appreciate. All the yogis and Gurus that I most respect, recommend the seeker to ask the question, “Who am I?”, and also to seek the guru within as well as without. When we ask ourselves, “Who am I?” we are trying to find out what the true nature of the “I” is. Not the mind, not the body, but an unchanging entity that remains constant in our waking, dream and sleep states. An entity, which remains constant through life. It is the True Self within, which is the same “substance” as the Cosmic Self.

The mind’s activities are transient and fickle, whilst the light of yogic awareness burns steadily behind the mental screens. Once having reached the transcendental inner light or awareness, we can return to our chosen life and continue on our way bathed in a subtle serenity.

I was never too worried, however, about being on my own in a corner of some fields without recourse to assistance in case of trouble. I had to accept and believe that the world around me was basically my nurturer and not my enemy. This attitude can be of immense benefit, not just in “wild” places, but also in everyday life. After all, the modern world is itself a dense jungle, which harbors its own multitude of deadly perils, as well as being the provider of innumerable benefits.

I gave a talks or lectures here and there, and was starting to be the guru of a number of families spread over a wide area of Gujrat. I knew that if I was patient and built up my following over say ten years, then I could develop my base into an ashram that resembled something like that of my ambitions. However, quite suddenly the whole idea of staying in India started to seem rather strange and unnatural for me.

In a most intriguing way I began to dream and think of England and. English things regularly. This was the re awakening, of an area of my mind that had seemed extinct. I started to think in English again, rather than in Hindi, in which I was established. I had a peculiar feeling as if a veil had suddenly been lifted, allowing my previous identity to intermingle with my Indian role. I sensed that my life in India was reaching the point of maturity, and that I could achieve no more in my endeavors there.

I had been unhappy with my life in England and felt restless. As a child even, I had been intrigued by stories of wanderers and travelers who lived in primitive conditions. I wanted to live a free and simple life with the minimum of possessions and comforts, and to pay little heed to the norms of society.

In my new, strange mood in Kanod I felt the desire to communicate with my parents and wrote a letter saying, “Sorry I haven’t written for nine years, but I’ve been a Hindu monk”. The reply from England expressed surprised relief, they had thought I was dead. Would I return? An airplane ticket would be sent to me immediately if I so desired. As easy as that, I thought, just hop on a plane and become a different person. I had no doubt then that I would not remain the Hindu Ganesh Giri once I left India.

I had been pulled by a magnet to India, and now the magnet had reversed its current and was drawing me back to England. I also realized that the experience to come would make me wiser and would not destroy all the good things I had learnt in India.

I arrived at Heathrow, nearly eleven years after leaving England, somewhat bewildered and took a taxi home to my parents place. Surprisingly the homecoming was not a shock, but quite a, subdued affair. I felt almost as if I had been away on a package tour for a couple of weeks!!!