Love your own Self

Love your own Self

‘Meditate on your own Self, worship your own Self, honour your own Self, love your own Self. God dwells within you as you,’ said an advertisement in the local morning paper. This was an unusually positive message for an American paper with ties to the racially conflicted city of Detroit, Michigan.

It was September 1974, a beautiful time of year in the Midwest. I was living in Ann Arbor with Danny, a young man who was to become my husband, and working at the University of Michigan Counselling Services. A few days later he came home from class and told me he had received an invitation from his psychology professor to meet a holy man from India, a Guru named Baba Muktananda, the writer of the benevolent message.

Baba’s message uplifted and puzzled me. I was stirred by the mysterious words ‘God dwells within you, as you’. They resonated with truth. But, to believe that God lived within me, as me, seemed an impossible attainment.

The vision inherent in that message was powerful and compassionate, two qualities I had not yet encountered. Later, as I became familiar with my inner world, I began to understand its significance. I would not know the true meaning of Baba’s words until I understood how I made life difficult for myself.

A few days later, intrigued and curious about the mystic East, Danny and I pulled up outside a grand old fraternity house. It was freshly painted white weatherboard with black shutters; something that would look more comfortable nestled at Cape Cod than in this small university town. It appeared normal except for the large black sign ‘Siddha Yoga Dham’ on the rooftop. As I entered, the smell of incense filled my nostrils. There was a subtle electricity in the atmosphere; everything was extraordinarily bright. My attention was drawn to a photograph of a naked man lying on his side, smiling mysteriously. He seemed odd, eccentric. I wondered who he was and what he represented but I was not dismayed. Even though the ambience was unfamiliar, I was completely at ease.

Baba was sitting on a small sofa, answering questions. The room was alive and still at the same time. His bright orange clothes blazed warmth in the fall chill. As I sat down I glanced up at him. Our eyes met and although no words were spoken, I felt welcomed. There was laughter as he told a story. He said that everyone had an inner Self and that happiness could be found within. As he spoke I felt a pull and my attention was drawn to my inner being. The room faded as I grew drowsy and the last thing I remember is my head falling forward. I came back to the room with a start to Danny poking me on the shoulder. Time had passed. I did not want to leave but we had to pick up a friend at the airport.

I felt a twinge of regret as I unsteadily stood to go. I wondered if I would see him again. I regretted that I was busy during the rest of the time he was visiting Ann Arbor. He was still answering questions, so without saying goodbye, we left. As we walked to the car I asked Danny how long we had been there. I was surprised to learn it was only half an hour. I felt like I had slept for eight hours, yet it was different. I was transported to a place deep within me, connected to the whole world, truly in touch with myself for the first time. As we drove away I said, ‘I don’t know what it is, but that man has something.’

(to be continued)