We have completed a remarkable four day retreat at Loon Lake; the focus: a meditation upon the life and teachings of the great master, Sri Yukteswarji. We took snippets from the great master’s life and applied them to our own sadhana, our daily spiritual practice. One of the area’s that resonated deeply was on the topic of ahimsa, harmlessness. We began with a story from the Autobiography of a Yogi:

It was the gentle hour of dusk. My guru was matchlessly interpreting the ancient texts. At his feet, I was in perfect peace. A rude mosquito entered the idyll and competed for my attention. As it dug a poisonous hypodermic needle into my thigh, I automatically raised an avenging hand. Reprieve from impending execution! An opportune memory came to me of one of Patanjali’s yoga aphorisms—that on ahimsa (harmlessness).

“Why didn’t you finish the job?”

“Master! Do you advocate taking life?”

“No; but the deathblow already had been struck in your mind.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Patanjali’s meaning was the removal of desire to kill.” Sri Yukteswar had found my mental processes an open book. “This world is inconveniently arranged for a literal practice of ahimsa. Man may be compelled to exterminate harmful creatures. He is not under similar compulsion to feel anger or animosity. All forms of life have equal right to the air of maya. The saint who uncovers the secret of creation will be in harmony with its countless bewildering expressions. All men may approach that understanding who curb the inner passion for destruction.”

“Guruji, should one offer himself a sacrifice rather than kill a wild beast?”

“No; man’s body is precious. It has the highest evolutionary value because of unique brain and spinal centers. These enable the advanced devotee to fully grasp and express the loftiest aspects of divinity. No lower form is so equipped. It is true that one incurs the debt of a minor sin if he is forced to kill an animal or any living thing. But the Vedas teach that wanton loss of a human body is a serious transgression against the karmic law.”

We took time to find that place inside where we would wish or do no harm—towards another or ourselves. In the heat of the moment, when in an intense interaction, can you maintain an attitude of not wanting to strike out physically, verbally, or even in thought? Ahimsa can only come by being established in an unshakable calm, even come to the point of spiritual evolution where every thought, word and action is saturated with the inward flow of God-consciousness.

When going deeper into the life of any great spiritual master we think on that one, meditate upon him, and we may somehow touch the fabric of his or her being. The presence and grace of the great lion of Bengal, Sri Yukteswarji, was experienced by retreatants, some had deep transformative experiences. We are blessed by having this great God-man as part of our para-param guru lineage—as a fully realized master he easily transcends time/space barriers, and even the shut door of death is no obstacle to devotee and master when in deep inner communion with God.

The Fall Equinox is on September 22, about 7:30 p.m. The equinox (equal night) is when the days and nights are of the same length and we are halfway between summer (longest day in the northern hemisphere) and winter solstice (the shortest day). The two equinoxes and two solstices are four transitions in the year that have been marked by civilizations since recorded time.

Besides the fall equinox being a time of harvest and thanksgiving it is also known to be a special opportunity for focusing on things spiritual. Spring, summer, fall and winter each have their beginning and end, and each of these yearly cycles correspond to times in the day, early morning, noon, evening and mid-night. Sensitive yogis noticed that these times of the day and times of the year present an opening into higher consciousness for the meditator.

Therefore Sri Yukteswar kept these times for coming together in song, food and a particular focus on spiritual upliftment. In the Autobiography of a Yogi Master writes:

Sri Yukteswar sponsored four yearly festivals, at the equinoxes and solstices, when his students gathered from far and near. The winter solstice celebration was held in Serampore; the first one I attended left me with a permanent blessing.

The festivities started in the morning with a barefoot procession along the streets. The voices of a hundred students rang out with sweet religious songs; a few musicians played the flute and khol kartal (drums and cymbals). Enthusiastic townspeople strewed the path with flowers, glad to be summoned from prosaic tasks by our resounding praise of the Lord’s blessed name. The long tour ended in the courtyard of the hermitage. There we encircled our guru, while students on upper balconies showered us with marigold blossoms.

Many guests went upstairs to receive a pudding of channa and oranges. I made my way to a group of brother disciples who were serving today as cooks. Food for such large gatherings had to be cooked outdoors in huge cauldrons. The improvised wood-burning brick stoves were smoky and tear-provoking, but we laughed merrily at our work. Religious festivals in India are never considered troublesome; each one does his part, supplying money, rice, vegetables, or his personal services.

…By sunset we had served our hundreds of visitors with khichuri (rice and lentils), vegetable curry, and rice pudding. We laid cotton blankets over the courtyard; soon the assemblage was squatting under the starry vault, quietly attentive to the wisdom pouring from Sri Yukteswar’s lips. His public speeches emphasized the value of Kriya Yoga, and a life of self-respect, calmness, determination, simple diet, and regular exercise.

Today, we may mark this day individually, keeping our appointment with God and opening ourselves to the upliftment available on this special date.

Jai Gurus, Victory to those great spiritual masters who have blazed the sadhana trail ahead of us, and even now bless us with their spiritual power of realization.

Today we lovingly mark the anniversary of the mahasamadhi of the great spiritual master, Sri Yukteswarji. While in India I came across a biography, entitled Swami Shriyukteshwar—incarnation of wisdom; by Paramahansa Prajnanananda, a disciple of Harihariananada, who in turn was a disciple of Sri Yukteswarji. There are many interesting details about the master’s life in this short volume, he begins the biography with the scene of his mahasamadhi. Jai Sri Yukteswarji!

*************

It was March 9^th, 1936, a Monday afternoon. In the Karar Ashram at Puri, Swami Shriyukteshwar called out to his disciple, a young monk, “Narayan! Narayan!” Narayan, who was always present at the feet of his master, came to him.  Shriyukteshwar declared, “It is time to depart from the world, Narayan!” Today I will leave this body! Hearing this Narayan was greatly disturbed and could not control his sorrow. Shriyukteshwar repeated, “Can you get me a glass of water?” Narayan quickly brought a glass of water, but as he gave it to the master it fell down on the floor.

Shriyukteshwar remarked, “Have you noticed how I am being separated from you Narayan? But do not be upset. Your love, service and devotion to the Guru are beyond comparison. I was very contented with your service. Our relationship is truly eternal.”

Dusk fell and the day was about to pass. The sun was setting. Shriyukteshwar called on a person named Krutivasa and said, “Krutivasa! Immediately go the Puri railway station and ask Prabhasa to inform Yogananda, who is now in Calcutta, that I am leaving my body this evening. He can come to Puri by the night train. It is my time to depart.” (Prabhas Ghosh was a cousin brother of Paramahansa Yogananda and an executive officer in the railway department. In those days there were no direct telephone connections and messages had to be sent from station to station. As soon as Prabhas at Kharagpur received the message he informed Paramahansa Yogananda and also made all arrangements for his journey to Puri on the same night). But Yoganandaji was not informed about the declaration of Shriyukteshwar of leaving his body.

Sitting on a small bed in lotus posture, Shriyukteshwar asked Narayan to hold his chest and back with two hands. Narayan followed the master’s direction. The great master and yogi went into deep meditation. His body seemed calm and sedate. A mild vibration passed from his heart to the fontanel producing a divine sound resembling the ‘Om’ sound. As that sound merged into the cosmic sound, the great master left his gross body and the body became a little stiff. Not noticing this, Narayan continue his massage.

In the meantime, Krutivasa returned from the railway station, Swami Narayan asked him to sit near the master and himself went to fetch a doctor disciple by the name of Dr. Dinakar Rao, who lived next door to examine the master. After a thorough examination the doctor declared that the master must have left his body about half an hour earlier.

Swami Narayan stood motionless in great despair with tears rolling down his face. “Oh Great Master,” he sobbed, “Your play on this earth was remarkable. Whoever came into contact with you was fascinated by you and was transformed by your divinity and boundless eternal wisdom. Your tall body, long arms, wide forehead and strong chest, your bright, star-like eyes always in sambhavi mudra and your tranquil bearded face live on forever in the hearts of all who had the privilege of meeting you.”

The divine child born in Serampore on the banks of river Ganga ended his physical existence of 81 years in Puri by the seaside. But his teachings live on in the hearts of millions of spiritual seekers all around the world.

This astonishing description of Sri Yukteswar gives insight into how great Masters can walk the earth in extrarordinary ways. This story comes from Paramahansa Prajnanananda in his book: Swami Shriyukteshwar Incarnation of wisdom; page 78-9.

Yogacharya David

The youngest disciple of Swami Shriyukteshwar was Rabindranath who is now world renowned as Paramahansa Hariharandanda. They used to meet regularly at Serampore Ashram. Shriyukteshwar requested this young man several times to take charge of Puri Ashram, but young Rabindranath did not accept this proposal as he was not mentally ready for it. In the beginning of June 1938 Rabindranath came to Puri. Before coming to Puri he sent one of his friends to arrange for a rented house close to the ashram where he could live independently meditating and also spend time in the ashram. The friend asked the help of the ashram in this matter and a house next to the ashram was secured as a rental. Rabindranath moved to Puri and started living in that house.

On a hot summer evening Rabindranath and his friend were relaxing on the second floor balcony of the house enjoying the cool breeze of the sea and watching the sky. Suddenly Rabindranath thought he saw Shriyukteshwar walking from Karar Ashram premises towards the house they were in and he saw him passing them several times. At this Rabindranath cried out with great surprise and joy, “Look, look my beloved master Shriyukteshwar is coming.” His friend looked in that direction and became pale as if he had seen a ghost because he knew of the mahasamadhi of Shriyukteshwar. When he recovered from the shock he informed Rabindranath that if was the same person whom he had met at the ashram when he was looking for the house to rent. This was an extraordinary event when Rabindranath could see his master in his physical form after his demise. After a few months getting clear indication from Shriyukteshwar to join the Ashram and practice meditation there Rabindranath joined Karar Ashram and was known as Brahmachari Rabinanarayan. Thus the desire of Shriyukteshwar was at last fulfilled.

Picture: Shriyukteswar from Hariharananda’s Ashram.

I found this a fascinating description of Shriyukteswar’s Mahasamadhi, and I thought you would find it inspiring as well.

Yogacharya David

Excerpted From

Swami Shriyukteshwar

Incarnation of Wisdom

Paramahansa Prajnanananda

Beginning of the End

It was March 9^th, 1936, a Monday afternoon. In the Karar Ashram at Puri, Swami Shriyukteshwar called out to his disciple, a young monk, “Narayan! Narayan!” Narayan, who was always present at the feet of his master, came to him. Shriyukteshwar declared, “It is my time to depart from the world, Narayan! Today I will leave this body! Hearing this Narayan was greatly disturbed and could not control his sorrow. Shriyukteshwar repeated, “Can you get me a glass of water?” Narayan quickly brought a glass of water, but as he gave it to the master it fell down on the floor.

Shriyukteshwar remarked, “Have you noticed how I am being separated from you Narayan? But do not be upset. Your love, service and devotion to the Guru are beyond comparison. I was very contented with your service. Our relationship is truly eternal.”

Dusk fell and the day was about to pass. The sun was setting. Shriyukteshwar called upon a person named Krutivasa and said, “Krutivasa! Immediately go to Puri railway station and ask Prabhasa to inform Yogananda, who is now in Calcutta, that I am leaving my body this evening. He can come to Puri by the night train. It is my time to depart.” (Prabhas Ghosh was a cousin brother of Paramahansa Yogananda and an executive officer in the railway department. In those days there were no direct telephone connections and messages had to be sent from station to station. As soon as Prabhas at Kharagpur received the message he informed Paramahansa Yogananda and also made all arrangements for his journey to Puri that night.) But Yoganandaji was not informed about the declaration of Shriyukteshwar of leaving his body.

Sitting on a small bed in lotus posture, Shriyukteshwar asked Narayan to hold his chest and back with two hands. Narayan followed the master’s direction. The great master and yogi went into deep meditation. His body seemed calm and sedate. A mild vibration passed from his heart to the fontanel producing a divine sound resembling the “Om” sound. As that sound merged into the cosmic sound, the great master left his gross body and the body became a little stiff. Not noticing this, Narayan continued his massage.

In the meantime, Krutibasa returned from the railway station. Swami Narayan asked him to sit near the master and himself went to fetch a doctor disciple by the name of Dr. Dinakar Rao, who lived next door to examine the master. After a thorough examination the doctor declared that the master must have left his body about an half hour earlier.

Swami Narayan stood motionless in great despair with tears rolling down his face. “Oh Great Master,” he sobbed, “Your play on this earth was remarkable. Whoever came into contact with you was fascinated by you and was transformed by your divinity and boundless eternal wisdom. Your tall body, long arms, wide forehead and strong chest, your bright, star-like eyes always in sambhavi mudra and your tranquil bearded face live on forever in the hearts of all who had the privilege of meeting you.”

The divine child born in Serampore on the banks of river Ganga ended his physical existence of 81 years by Puri by the seaside. But his teachings live on in the hearts of millions of spiritual seekers all around the world.