Kundalini Splendor

An Encounter with a Guru: Baba Hari Dass

Last Thursday, I drove south to a conference at Mt. Madonna Center (up on a mountain in the Santa Cruz range near Watsonville); the conference was sponsored by the “Kundalini Research Network.”

When I first arrived, I was lingering in the hall, waiting for dinner, when I saw a man of some 60 or more years go by and enter a private room. He looked like somebody who had just come from work--say in the kitchen or on the grounds. But his features were extremely arresting. He was slender, olive-skinned, and wore his greying hair in a ponytail. “My,” I thought, “they certainly have interesting people on the staff here.”

A short time later, as I stood in line for dinner, I saw (through an open door) a small group of people collected at the feet of a man seated at the front of the room. This man was the one I had seen a few minutes earlier. When I got my dinner tray, I carried it into that room and joined the other diners on the floor.

The man was Baba Hari Dass, the founder guru of the ashram/retreat center where the conference was being held. As I entered and took my place, he gazed at me closely. Waves of joy swept through--after I sat, I fell into total, exquisite bliss, which lasted for as long as I was there. All around me, the “followers” were not only eating, but chatting and moving about in a lively hubbub. Baba himself took a tray, and ate, sometimes stopping to hear questions from those who approached him. He has taken a vow of silence, so he answered by writing on a small slate board he carries with him. The bliss I experienced was a deep rapture, beginning in the heart and traveling upwards into the head (although my head was not completely opened, as in my original experience). I remained in this state until he left the room.

Next evening, as I stood in line for dinner, I felt rapturous waves sweep my body from crown to toe. I looked up and realized that, once more, Baba was holding satsang in the adjacent room. I didn’t bother to pick up food, but entered and immediately fell into a state of ecstasy, amidst the clamor and movement of the residents, many of whom had brought their children.

On Saturday, I went in a third time--this time, there was some bliss, but not as much as before. Baba seemed to be focused more on the questioners, and on playing with and teasing the children.

I also experienced great bliss during the first “meditation” class offered by “Sarasvati,” one of his long time students. This experience consisted primarily of performing the four yogic purification practices (prana yama). Each time I sucked in my diaphragm, or expelled my breath in short gusts, I felt exquisite rushes of pleasure. I went to the class a second time on Saturday, but, as with the satsang on that day, the bliss was much less intense.

Whence comes this bliss? I have experienced such feelings many many times--during my own practice, especially when the “inner lover” manifests; or during classes at CIIS, such as those taught by David Roche, or Jim Ryan, which involve music or chanting or group meditation; or, sometimes simply when I am with a “spiritually evolved” group, at a workshop or conference, where there is frequently a deep flow of blissful energy.

But I do not think I have ever had an experience where merely sitting with the “holy one” had such an effect. (Of course, the “followers” also contributed energy and vibrations.) I am deeply drawn to him--perhaps this experience is akin to shaktipat. Or perhaps he actually gave me shaktipat--if so, it was a very familiar vibration; does this mean that he and I derive from the same source (tradition)? Or does it merely signify that the guru sets your own inner frequency in motion, and that you experience it according to your own nature? In any event, I was much surprised, for I found that I deeply loved this man, and would be content to remain in his presence always. Yet, at the same time, I feel I have something to give in exchange. I am unwilling to be cast in the role of passive recipient. What I want is for him to recognize me as someone he knew in a remote past--perhaps as teacher or friend, someone now returned in a very different guise. I would be angry if he treated me like any beginner, though in some ways that is exactly what I am. And I want him to talk to me. I do not see the logic of his vow. What does it accomplish? I think it is merely an irritating impediment, a self-indulgence, rather than a self-discipline. But then, I am no guru. And for me, he needs no words.

Clearly, this is the “sweet fire” that Andrew Harvey experiences in the presence of his own guru. (I had recently read Harvey’s “Hidden Journey,” and was extremely excited by this poetic and revelatory account of one man’s spiritual adventure. Unlike other spiritual autobiographies which were often rather pedestrian descriptions of the inner adventure, this was a model of deeply felt and eloquently articulated personal experience .) What would it be like to know this divine energy on a constant basis? I both desire and fear this experience. I do not wish to feel that my own inner sensations are so dependent on the presence of another being--I want to be the spiritual leader, the one who gives shaktipat But of course, I am in no way prepared, since my own energies are so unpredictable, and since I have not undergone the necessary disciplines to attain this higher state. Something in me is irresistibly drawn toward him, and something else strongly objects to giving up so much personal power to another human. How would he treat me?

On Tuesday, I went to take a “yoga lesson” at the Integral Yoga Center, 2 blocks away, whose guru is Satchidananda. The teacher was much concerned that I performed the asanas so poorly. She kept trying to “help” me by correcting me, or coming over to observe me more closely, or having me stop to see how the others were doing the postures. Finally, she asked if I had confused this class with another, one designed for those unable to do the regular beginner’s class . So I asked her if she wanted me to leave. She said no, and didn’t bother me thereafter. Afterwards, I told her that I often feel the energies deeply, even though I cannot do the asanas very well. I showed her how I can sometimes feel incredibly bliss just by moving my fingers a little. She appeared to understand, but I feel she showed great insensitivity in the class by singling me out. Once again, I am not successful when I try to connect with an established center as a student.

Baba Hari Dass is the only spiritual leader I have discovered who inspires me to pursue the connection.