If Truth Be Told: A Monk's Memoir

by Om Swami

Come to think of it, there was no difference between him and me: we were both fettered by our needs. His were more tangible and essential for survival, while mine were more abstract and self-imposed. I

I had no idea how to prepare my body for intense penance. Yet, I knew that life would teach me. I had only to be open and willing.

This is what happens with most people: they are not in search of truth, they don’t want to know the truth; in fact, they are scared of the truth. They have an idea or belief that brings them solace and they merely want someone to validate it for them. They will run hither and thither until someone agrees with them.

if you keep doing what you’ve been doing, you’ll keep getting what you’ve been getting.

The truth is that our future is determined by the choices we make today, and today is resting on the choices we made yesterday.

‘When you write, I want the writing to be so taut that if anyone is to remove even a comma from your sentence, the entire paragraph will have to be rewritten. When you speak, I want you to struggle, not because you cannot think of words with which to express yourself but because so many rush to your mind that you have to really choose to pick the word that is most apt, that is perfect,’ he said more than once.

Alone but overconfident, unprepared but resolute, clueless but hopeful at heart, I was ready to face everything life would throw at me.

I had understood quite early in my life that the amount of money you made was directly proportional to the degree of difficulty you could handle. The more stress you could handle, the more money you were paid; easy jobs paid less. Anyhow, I had no choice.

This was 2000. I had landed in Australia in 1998 and had struggled to find a job that would pay me anything at all. Two years later, at twenty, I was sitting on an executive technology-management role with a more than decent salary package. Was this just due to my hard work? It would be foolish to think so. A transcendental element of grace was always there. Otherwise, there was no dearth of people who worked harder than I did and who were smarter than I was, but didn’t find such success.

In those days, I was putting in long hours at work. There were times I came home only to sleep, but my mother never complained. I was unable to show her around the city in the way that I had wanted because I was always pressed for time, but she never made me feel guilty. ‘I’m just happy to see you happy,’ she would say.

Ma just smiled but he was right. Beyond our temporary disagreements on minor issues, there had never been any conflict in my relationship with my mother. It could be because she never really opposed me or because she understood me completely, or both.

My goal of renunciation was clear to me and I knew exactly where I was headed. But it wasn’t time yet. I had to be certain I wasn’t choosing the spiritual path as an escape from the material challenges of the world. To achieve the pinnacle of material success and then to walk away would be a far truer renunciation. If I had nothing to lose in the first place, what was I renouncing? I wanted to make sure my intent for spiritual life was clear and pure.

‘You see, our biggest challenge is to find a challenge for you.’ I was deeply impressed at his reading. It was true. Whenever something stopped challenging me, I would just move on. ‘And do you know what the biggest challenge for you is?’ ‘To stay motivated?’ ‘Maybe. But the real challenge for you will be to pick the right option. Life is going to present you with many choices and, obviously, your future will depend on your choices.’

‘Then listen carefully. The truth is that I’m greatly relieved. I had stopped stressing on my return flight to Sydney, and I can’t be bothered by what is past. I’m happy because I’m free again and I’m ready to build again. I’ve always enjoyed building more than running. I know exactly what I need to do now. In fact, I’ve already thought about the car I’m going to buy next year.’

I sold my Porsche and gave the proceeds to some ISKCON devotees I knew in Australia. I had enjoyed it just as I had enjoyed all my other possessions. I will not deny that I had made the most of my wealth and luxurious lifestyle. It was a delight to stay at the suite in the W Hotel in New York or at the Royal Mirage in Dubai, have high tea at the Ritz Carlton in London and savour vegetarian meals in San Francisco, pastas in Venice and desserts in Paris. Travelling in business class was a pleasure as was visiting the stunning locales in Switzerland, rejuvenating spa resorts in California, beaches in Australia and mountains in New Zealand. I liked having a cook and a cleaner and someone to launder my designer clothes. I wore shirts made from ultra-fine cotton with my customized business suits; expensive and elegant watches in graphite metal and sapphire glass completed my ensemble. My wardrobe had the latest outfits from Versace, Armani, Prada, Bvlgari, Tag Heur, Longines, Mont Blanc…

Yet, wealth had never been my primary focus. Whether big or small, a goal once attained turns into a mere experience and then just a memory.

Marriage was not a part of my plan or my dreams either. I knew I would renounce one day and, therefore, I thought it would be unethical to consummate the relationship. Once again, I was rather naive in my thinking. I had always seen life in black and white, believing in absolute definitions—this was good and that was bad, this was moral and that was immoral, this was right and that was wrong. How tantra used sexuality to transform and transcend the self was not something I really grasped until I experienced it first-hand when I did my first tantric sadhana of Goddess Kali. And I learnt that life was really a huge, grey sea. Doing this particular tantric sadhana was supposed to give the practitioner a vision of Kali in a vivid dream. A process of three nights, it required invoking a mantra along with the energy of Kali in one’s partner. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if a short sadhana would result in anything significant but how wrong I was. Not only did I get a vision of Kali but, at the time of consummation, I felt like the only entity that existed in the entire Universe, why, I felt I was the Universe.

even remember sitting down later and analysing why such a beautiful act was labelled a sin in the major religions. If you had sex within a societal or religious framework like marriage, it was acceptable, but if you dared to venture beyond, it was considered a ‘sin’. Who had made these rules? Some Hindu scriptures did not view sex so negatively. Nevertheless, they regarded it as a great hindrance towards one’s spiritual progress because lust can easily override one’s intelligence and resolve. They argued that a seeker on the path must be chaste, he or she must be steadfast in practising celibacy so they do not become prey to temptations. I could see some sense in this, but what about the seeker who had reached the other shore? I couldn’t see the wisdom in a lifelong vow of abstinence. Further, I thought it was unnatural and unnecessary. Besides, tantra offered a phenomenal way of transforming sex into a divine offering, and the only significant difference between ordinary sex and sex the tantric way is mindfulness. Tantra insists on awareness—the awareness of each breath, thought and emotion. Sexual desire can destroy awareness effortlessly. When overcome by lust, all boundaries between right and wrong, between good and bad, blur very quickly. But tantric mindfulness turns even lust into an awareness of emotion, it transforms it into love. This is a subtle but powerful transformation because the next time any sexual thoughts occur, you don’t experience a tide of lust but a...

Essentially, a householder leading a truthful life and experiencing the various colours of life, in moderation, could reach the highest state of realization far quicker than a celibate tucked away in a religious order but constantly battling with his emotions. Sex was not an experience to be fought and despised but to be understood and accepted.

The holy books state that there are only two types of conversations that occur between a guru and his disciple: a guru asks and the disciple answers: or, a disciple asks and the guru may choose to answer. There is never any debate between a guru and his disciple, there is no room for answering back. This is the Eastern culture, which I respected and valued.

but craving did not equal preparedness.

Suffering results in two types of people: those who become soft and gentle and do everything they can to ensure no one else has to suffer; and those who become hard and bitter, subjecting others to what they went through.

In fact, Baba had done numerous sadhanas across the five schools of tantra. These are different paths available to any seeker who wishes to use tantra as a rapid path to self-realization: dakshinachara, the right-handed path; vamachara, the left-handed path; kaulachara, a school introduced by the Saivites of Kashmir, which emphasizes the Siva–Sakti union; samayachara, where the primordial energy of Mother Divine is worshipped within the body above the navel and descending into the lower chakras, and sexual union with a female consort is forbidden; and mishrachara, a system that allows mixed practices depending on the state and stage of the seeker. Vamachara and kaulachara almost always involve rituals and sexual union with a consort of the opposite sex. Dakshinichara and samayachara, on the other hand, emphasize complete abstinence whereas mishrachara permits it at the discretion of the guru. The five paths of tantra originate from the Atharva Veda, the fourth Veda.

He had spent eight years in Kamakhya, the foremost tantra peetha, the land of tantric practices. In line with the austerities of hatha yoga, he had also done a number of practices including pancha-agni-dhoona, where the practitioner draws a circle, seats himself in the middle and lights a fire in the four directions along the circumference of the circle; the fifth fire, the sun, burns above. Baba would do this for forty days during the height of summer from noon until 4 p.m. Pancha-agni-dhoona bestows upon the practitioner complete control over the fire elements in the body. In the rainy season, Baba practised jala vihara, water wandering, during which he simply lived under a tree. In the winter, he did jala dhara, water flow, by sitting under a leaking pot of ice-cold water. He would sit naked while 108 pots of water would be poured over his head from midnight until 4 a.m. These methods help the seeker gain complete control over the water element in his body. Baba had also done the khadeshwari sadhana, where he did not sit down for nine years at a stretch. For more than forty years, he had been on phalahara, a gluten-free diet. Since starting his special diet, he had only drunk water from the Ganga. He was given the title of ‘tantra samrat’, emperor of tantric practices, by an elite congregation of tantriks.

Basically, you can’t win people over if they don’t want to be won over by you. It’s not that they don’t want love or devotion; they do, but just not from you. They have invested their emotions somewhere else. You want to be their pet but they only see you as a dog, a watchdog perhaps. You are attached to them but they aren’t attached to you. From you, they get everything too easily, so perhaps you’re of no value to them. Ironically, if you don’t wish to be taken for granted, if you step back, they become resentful or angry.

While eating, I had become aware of a certain melancholy in me. Never before had I cherished a meal as much as I did this one. I had always been a picky eater, and perhaps I had taken the availability of good food for granted. I used to think that life had a grand purpose for me, and was confident that there was nothing I couldn’t attain. I believed I knew better than most people. If truth be told, I had thought I was special. What had I been reduced to? Here I was, sitting on the floor in a queue, having consumed my food, eagerly awaiting my second mango. I may have fancied myself as a monk but, in reality I was a beggar.

When you are treated a certain way, eventually, you start to feel that way. I was treated like I was nobody, and I was beginning to feel like that.

On my way to the Himalayas, I looked up at the sky, I looked within, and I said, ‘O God, O Mother Divine, if you truly exist, then please hear this: henceforth, I will never, ever knock on any human’s door. Never again will I seek answers from any guru or preacher. If you exist, either show your form to me or I’ll perish in meditation. If I’m convinced you don’t exist, I’ll go to all corners of the world and tell people not to waste their time with you; I’ll tell them there is no God.’

Karna pishachini is a lower form of Devi that a practitioner subjugates and invokes to find out information about someone. The spirit then whispers secrets about the person in question into the practitioner’s ear.

It is something quite difficult to rise above the desire to be complimented and accepted. You can move beyond anger and lust, you can remain unaffected in gain or loss, but to let go the need for another’s approval, what is said or thought about you, isn’t easy at all. It takes great insight and a strong sense of self-worth to move beyond this need. Anyhow,

She said she could also teach me how to do vayu gaman, travel through the air.

It is said that some people’s words should not be taken lightly. The words of those who practise truth are like potent seeds in a fertile ground.

My intense meditation routine started two days later. I meditated almost all the time except between noon and 4 p.m. During this time, I kept my door open. I started eating one meal a day, at about 11 a.m.; it consisted of thin wheat noodles boiled in milk. There was someone from the village who used to keep a bottle of milk outside my cave every morning. Soon, I established a routine for myself. Each day, I bathed outside during or before sunrise, and the water was freezing. But whether I had to bathe with icy water or rub snow into my skin, I wasn’t bothered. For that matter, what I ate, or if I ate at all, wasn’t a concern

Meditation was almost effortless in this spiritually charged land. Thoughts didn’t arise as much, and the mind was stable and serene. Moments of deep absorption would arise naturally.

An insight began to emerge on the horizon of my mind: beauty does not lie in the eyes of the beholder but in the mind of the perceiver.

The cleaner the mind, the greater the beauty; the quieter the mind, the more enduring the experience. An empty mind is not a devil’s workshop; on the contrary, a passionate mind is, because a mind full of passions is often restless. An empty mind is but a divine blessing, for it is free of thoughts—a rare but coveted state for any yogi. If the mind was an ocean, a passionate mind would be tidal while an empty mind would be a calm, still ocean.

With all the challenges they offers, be it through the harsh elements or through the difficulties of living in the wild, the Himalayas, for inexplicable reasons, remain the ultimate place for meditation. The Hindu tradition says that over the course of thousands of years, some of the greatest saints have meditated in the Himalayas, and you can still feel their divine energy there. I don’t have any proof, nothing to substantiate this claim. But, having been around the world, I can say without the slightest hesitation that when it comes to spiritual vibrations and a certain purity, there is no other place in the world like the Himalayas. The mountains of Switzerland, the meadows of New Zealand, the landscapes of North America, the beaches of Australia, the sunny coasts of the Caribbean, the French countryside … I’ve been there, and these places simply don’t match the divinity that runs through the Himalayas. Those places offer exquisite beauty, no doubt; at times, they surpass the Himalayas when it comes to magnificence, unobstructed views, even the quietude and solitude. But the help you get on your spiritual journey from the indescribable and unseen forces of the Himalayas, you cannot get elsewhere.

I had to go beyond the chatter of the mind to have a true experience of samadhi. I knew I had to call Mother Divine in a state of perfect stillness, else I couldn’t possibly hope to have her vision. I would have to increase the duration and intensity of my meditation and take my sadhana to the next level. I had to be in a place where no human being could approach me, where, day and night, I could remain immersed in deep meditation.

In the rituals of tantra, the lunar calendar plays a crucial role. Just like your vote only counts if you vote on polling day, not a day earlier or later, some sadhanas can only be started on certain days. This information is never fully documented in the scriptures to prevent abuse or misuse of the powers a seeker gains by way of mantra siddhi; it is usually communicated through an oral tradition.

‘We use this word a bit too casually, you know. Coincidence generally means the occurrence of something in a striking manner without any causal connection. The truth is there are no accidents in the play of nature. The creation of this universe, our galaxy, the species of flora and fauna, the five elements, a near perfect ecosystem—none of this is a coincidence. Rain, storms, mountains, seas, trees … they are all there for a reason. Nothing is non-causal; everything supports a bigger cause.’

Perhaps it goes to show that when you are willing to bend a little, you may look out of place but you will survive.

Meditation is predominantly of two types: concentrative and contemplative. In the first kind, you build your concentration. In the second, you use it to reflect on the nature of reality and your own existence. Contemplative meditation gives birth to insight, and it is this insight that changes how you see and interpret the world around you. Deep concentration leads to samadhi, and deep contemplation allows you to maintain that state while dealing with the challenges of the world. I alternated between the two types of meditation.

However, as my mind began quieting down, I could not sleep for even the four hours I used to. Reduction in sleep is a natural outcome of correct meditation. Why do we even sleep at the first place? It’s because our body and mind need rest. The vital energies flow naturally in a restful state, making us feel refreshed after a deep sleep. Meditation does exactly the same: it rejuvenates your body and mind. I changed my routine and now slept from 9 p.m. to 11 p.m., after which I would begin meditating. A

Imagine you are trying to concentrate in the deafening silence of the night in the snowy Himalayan forests, and a bird starts to make a sound: ‘Tnk, tnk, tnk, tnk, tnk, tnk …’ I even found myself praying sometimes, ‘O Lord, if you exist, please send this fellow a companion. Have mercy on him. He’s desperate.’

When they were clambering all over the hut, there was nothing I could do because I wasn’t going to move and disrupt my meditation for some baboons. When I was outside, I used to watch them swing from one tree to another. The sight always amazed me because I never saw a baboon falling down. If I could have that mindfulness in my meditation, it would have been quite an achievement. In their case, it was in their genes. I suddenly realized that this is what I needed to do: shift the meditation from my conscious mind, where it was an effort, to the depths of my subconscious and unconscious states, where it was effortless.

As at Baba’s ashram, I had the choice to destroy these creatures as well; it was not hard to do so. But these were not compassionate choices. I was here to practise compassion, and never so much as a mosquito did I ever hurt intentionally. Interestingly, not once was I bitten by a rat, stung by a bee, hornet or wasp, or attacked by any wild animal, and it wasn’t a coincidence.

Before the commencement of the sadhana, one of the rituals I had carried out involved praying to various divine energies for their protection. I invoked the gram devata, the protector of that region; the sthan devata, the protective energy of my immediate surroundings; and the vastu devata, the protective energy at the site of the sadhana. The lineage of the sages protects a true seeker, and this is, in fact, the primary purpose of initiation through a mantra. This was not all though. I had made a peace pact with all the living entities around me; they were all a part of nature just as I was, and made from the same elements I was. There was no room for disharmony.

It was a liberating feeling to realize that I had nothing to lose, and therefore, nothing to be afraid of.

The right preparation is the key to the greatest attainments, the antidote to all fear, the seed of competence and confidence, I concluded.

You might wonder why I didn’t source more clothes or snow boots, or make myself more comfortable in the hut. Why did I choose to continue putting up with these obstacles? It was not because I wanted to punish myself or feel like a victim. The answer is rather simple. Our identification with the body is so strong that most people spend their lives simply taking care of the body. The body feels cold, let’s clothe it; it feels hot, let’s remove the layers; it’s hungry, feed it; it’s tired, give it rest. We become so preoccupied with fulfilling the body’s many desires—cleaning, feeding, clothing, decorating and protecting it, that we become its slaves. A true yogi must rise above the needs of the body. Just like an athlete must push herself to test her pain barrier, to test her limits, a spiritual aspirant must learn to control his body. When we start to tame the body and its needs, taming the mind becomes easier. The yogi must become indifferent to comforts until he has attained not only the state of emancipation but also learned to live in it.