
Dambara is active in the music ministry at Ananda Sangha in Portland, Oregon. Come to think of it, he’s been a prominent presence in the Ananda music ministry since dinosaurs still grazed on Sunset Meadow at Ananda Village. His cheerfulness reflects the scientifically verifiable effects of a life dedicated to serving others. Dambara now frequently tours will Ananda’s global ambassador, Nayaswami Asha, both singing at events and providing logistical and baggage support.
Q: How did you find Ananda?
Dambara: In 1987, a friend told me about a slideshow about the first Ananda pilgrimage to India. I had been thinking of walking around the world in search of truth, and I’m guessing it was God’s way of luring me to the slideshow. I enjoyed the event and was attracted by Asha’s clarity. I asked her afterward, “What is that?” – meaning the pervasive vibration of her talk and the pilgrimage. She directed me graciously to the boutique where I got some information about classes and picked up a copy of The Path, which was free at the time. I took it home and began reading, and when I reached the point where he met Paramhansa Yogananda I bought Autobiography of a Yogi and I was sold. I then took some meditation classes, and here we are.
Q: What sold you on it?
Dambara: First of all, I was ripe. I had always been a truth seeker – I was raised in the Catholic Church, and as a kid I’d wanted to be a priest. But in my teens I began to feel that what they were teaching and how they would answer my questions was kind of naïve, so I decided to go off on my own and look for answers.
I joked to the friend who told me about the slideshow, “I’m going to get a personalized license plate that says ‘ICKTCHR.’” “I seek a teacher.” Looking back, I can see that I was on the right path. My thinking was, ”I’ve done everything I know to do, and I’m not getting answers. I need a teacher.” Without knowing quite what it meant. But my soul knew, and I was ready to take the next step. And as they say in the East, when you’re desperate enough that you’ll go anywhere the teacher will appear. I didn’t have to travel around the world after all.
Reading The Path and the Autobiography, it quickly became clear to me that this path was mine. I knew it was a true path, in a way that it filled my heart with joy to discover. It offered me answers I hadn’t found anywhere. I’d asked lots of people, been lots of places and heard lots of teachings, but this path spoke to me, and once I knew it was mine, I dove in.
Q: Did you visit Ananda Village?
Dambara: Asha mentioned a program at the Village called Cities of Light, and I resonated with the idea of it, so I called the director, Pranaba, and told him I was interested. He said, “Well, that’s nice, but we haven’t actually printed the flyers.” But I signed up, and after a couple of weeks at the Village I knew I wanted to live there.
Q: Did you get a job right away?
Dambara: I went through the monastic training, where you spent a year living at the Meditation Retreat to go deep in the teachings, and then I got a job with a database marketing company that was owned by an Ananda member.
My job was intense, involving work. I was still with the program at the Meditation Retreat, and Prakash was scheduled to give a class on Kriya Yoga one evening, but there were some things that came up at work, and I figured I needed to stay late, so I called Anandi and told her I wouldn’t be able to make the class.
Her response surprised me – it was direct and intense. She said, “That’s not reality – this is reality!”
I’ve realized that she was right, and that what seems urgent and impressive in the world is always less important than the spiritual life and Kriya Yoga, because they are much more eternal and real.
Q: Had you discovered the music before you moved to Ananda?
Dambara: I had always enjoyed singing – my mother would sing along to albums of Broadway musicals, and she and my uncles and aunts would have lots of fun singing together. So the joy of singing was always present in the family, and I got the love of singing from her. She would always be harmonizing – there would be a melody on a record and she would harmonize with it. It was that early background that inspired me, and I ended up singing a lot and loving it.
Q: Were you happy to discover that there was a major music ministry at Ananda?
Dambara: Totally. I had done some minor gigs with a rock band in high school, and it was fun, but it was very ego-oriented. “I’m up here on the stage and everybody’s looking at me.” It had run its course for me, as other forms of music would – you’d get into it for a while, and then it would run dry. I studied piano for several years, but all of my musical experiences tended to dry up, and when they no longer held inspiration I would lose interest. By the time I got to Ananda, I had dabbled in many things but none of them had stuck, and when I heard the music that was emanating from Ananda, it overjoyed me.
In the apprenticeship program, the idea was that we shouldn’t get outwardly involved for the first year, but just focus on the teachings and go as deep as we could, to build a solid foundation. I heartily recommend it as a wonderful way to start out on the path. But when the year ended, I was invited to come to choir rehearsals, and I loved it.
It was finally music that I felt was worth singing. Swamiji would remark that many classical songs have nice melodies, but what are you really singing? Nothing terribly uplifting. And finally here was music that was hugely uplifting. It was a joy at the time, and it has continued to be a joy.
Q: It hasn’t gotten old for you?
Dambara: No. I still want to approach it creatively, and I don’t know if that’s a fault of mine, or if others feel the same, but I thrive on challenge and creative stimulation. And of course you can’t just sit back and be passive and expect other people to provide that juice for you.
In the back of my mind, I’m always hoping that something new will come along within Ananda to challenge me – like the rare occasions when Swami would share a new piece of music with us, or a new arrangement for a song. He would walk in and hand us the sheet music, and my whole being would be saying, “Yes!” All of my molecules would be leaping to study and learn it. Those were really fun moments when we were learning something new. David Eby is always doing new things with the music. [David is a professional cellist who is deeply involved with the Ananda music ministry.] He’s taking the available talent and seeing how we can use it to interpret Swami’s music, and what’s brilliant is that he isn’t just doing amazing creative things, he’s putting tremendous energy into helping people learn new things, like learning to play a new instrument, and working with new ideas for pieces they can learn. The sounds of the different groups that have come together have been impressive, and it’s been lots of fun.
Q: Does it reflect something that Swami Kriyananda said – that restrictions often promote creativity rather than hindering it? Do you find that it works that way with Ananda’s music, with its fixed repertoire of about four hundred pieces?
Dambara: When I talked earlier about feeling less inspired at times, it really doesn’t apply to the music or its message. It just applies to doing the same things I’ve previously done. Each Sunday morning we participate in the Festival of Light, and I think most of us would say, “It’s brand-new every Sunday.” And the inspiration in Swami’s music never ceases to surprise me.
Q: He said that every note of his music was born of superconscious inspiration. Do you think that perhaps we’re trying to reach into that higher dimension and give that inspiration to others?
Dambara: I think what strikes a chord for me is that it’s easy to rest on the laurels of what we’ve done, but then you find it isn’t what opens portals to joy. Lifting our energy to meet the music at its source gives us inspiration every time. Our job is to learn by trial and error to raise our energy, open our hearts, and keep learning. The efforts you make to stay fresh and creative are never wasted.
Q: How do you approach the music creatively?
Dambara: It’s a tough question. Creativity has the same charge for people as religion and politics. “At Ananda are you restricted to performing only Swami’s music?” But the proof is that when you’re having so much fun it’s no longer an issue.
I’ve had lots of fun with it, so it hasn’t been an issue for me, as it has for people who’re wondering if it’s not enough, or it’s confining, or unfair, or a restriction on our freedom. And maybe it’s their next step forward spiritually to do their own thing. But it usually means moving away from Ananda.
I’ve seen that when folks feel a strong need to do their own thing, they end up leaving Ananda, and I think it’s because what we’re doing here is offering the ego in service to something that’s genuinely coming from a higher source. Not in the old monastic sense where you’re taught to obey your superior blindly with a goal of thrashing down your creativity and willfulness. That isn’t what we’re doing at Ananda. We’re trying to surrender the part of the mind that is always wanting to jump in and have the last word.
It’s a powerful habit, and it can disguise itself as creativity or inspiration, but if you’re closing yourself to something true and divine, it just closes the flow of inspiration. So it’s important to take time to tune into whatever holes Swami has drilled into the Infinite, and whatever rays are coming through, and find out for yourself if it will help you get where you want to go. I love Swami’s music, because tuning into it has been fulfilling for me, as a living experience.
I’ll listen to “A Prairie Home Companion” sometimes while I’m driving. I think Garrison Keillor is one of the most brilliant and creative humorists alive, and the music is fun and creative. But when it replays in my mind, I realize, “The vibration it’s creating inside me isn’t as uplifted as what I’m used to.”
I can feel the difference. So it isn’t a question of thinking, “Oh, bad boy!” and, “I’ll never listen to it again.” It’s asking “Okay, where does this register inside me?” Am I feeling uplifted and joyful and happy and clear? Am I poking through to the other side? Or is it just the same old jingles going in endless circles? I think I’ve done lots of that, and it kind of hurts my heart inside when I find my energy and consciousness spinning around instead of rising.
I simply don’t find any other music that is equally satisfying. And it isn’t that I’ve restricted myself from listening to it, it’s that when you love this kind of music, you want to do it – and then, why not? I’ll tune into other stuff on occasion, out of curiosity and for comparison’s sake, but so far, this is the thing that’s been most satisfying to my soul.
Q: You’ve answered my next question, which is about the effect that the music has on you.
Dambara: It’s a godsend. One of the first things I did when I came to Ananda Palo Alto was gobble up every recording of talks by Asha and Swami. I think that vibrationally consuming as much of those nutritious elements as I could was extremely helpful to me. Maybe I’m extreme on the side of relating to things aurally, but it worked for me.
The inspiration of the music bypasses the rational brain and goes directly into the heart. I’ll find myself in situations where a phrase of a song will come through and it’ll be the right answer. It’s more fun having that kind of music going on in my consciousness than the stupid jingle on the phone or at the market.
Q: It raises your consciousness?
Dambara: Yes. And again, it isn’t something I try to do, it’s just something my heart is drawn to because I love it, so I want more of it.
Q: Is it an emotional experience?
Dambara: Not so much. Which is kind of a relief, actually. Most popular music, teenage music, and even a great deal of classical music grabs your heart and stirs it up, and it might be stimulating for a while, but it doesn’t really take you anywhere high. I’m thinking of Phantom of the Opera. And, okay, the movie is really well done, and the music is dramatic and gives you an emotional experience. But I ask myself afterward, “Is this a painting that I want to hang on the wall and look at it all the time?” And no, it’s not.
It tells me that a lot of art today is clever and emotionally dramatic, but is it spiritually uplifting? I don’t think so. It may be, in the sense that, okay, by comparison with where you were, maybe it is moving things along, or it moves some energy, or it gets you enthusiastic about something, or it just kind of clears up your energy channels somehow. But, to me, it’s not as deeply satisfying, and it doesn’t point in a direction I want to be going.
Maybe there are other kinds of uplifting music, but as Swami said, “There may be lots of good mothers, but this one is mine.” This is the music I’m going to listen to because I can relate to the lessons I get from it.
Q: A lot of popular music picks you up, spins you around, and sets you back down exactly where you were.
Dambara: Yes, it’s the difference between having a relationship where your heart is pumping and you can’t sleep well and your mind is jumping around and you think you’re in love, but after a while you’re just exhausted, as opposed to a relationship where you’re joyful and fulfilled and happy, and you sleep well and look forward to the next day, and you’re becoming healthier and healthier.
Q: If a person wants to sing Swami’s music, do you have any suggestions that will help them get in tune with its message?
Dambara: Hang out with Ananda people. Hang out with people who meditate. Hang out with people who sing the music. Because, again, you’re absorbing the vibrations that inspired the music. I’ve seen people who had some choir background and stepped into an Ananda Sunday service, or a friend brought them, and they thought, “Hey, this is for me, I love the music, I’d love to join the choir.” But generally speaking, when people have the opportunity to pop right into the choir, it’s like the cogs don’t mesh because they haven’t had time to absorb the vibration first, as the others in the choir have.
The other people in the group are meditating. They’ve studied the teachings and they’re receptive to the ray of inspiration that’s coming through, so they’re tuned in on that channel, and when they sing it’s simply an expression of that. Whereas somebody coming in out of the cold may be doing their best to sing well, but they’re at a big disadvantage, for them and for the group, because they aren’t able to tune in as well, and they’re maybe wondering why they’re feeling off. And I don’t know if they’re even that consciously aware of it, but I’ve seen that they don’t stick around. Maybe they don’t come back to service, because they think, “Oh well, this isn’t for me.”
It’s why we have an unspoken policy in Palo Alto that before you consider jumping into the choir, it’s important to be on this path, to be meditating, attend classes, know the teachings, and hang out with the people. Then if you can relax and go with the program, things will unfold as they’re supposed to. And by “program” I don’t mean doing everything the way other people are, because this path is very much oriented to the growth of the individual. Nobody here is going to pretend to have the one true answer for you, but we’re always trying to figure out what’s going to work best for the individual.
I love reading the lyrics as poetry while not thinking about the music. It’s a wonderful practice, because the lyrics are expressing the teachings of this path.
Q: For people who’ve joined a group and are singing the Ananda songs, is there a best way to prepare for rehearsals and performances?
Dambara: It’s individual. It depends on your singing background. It might take more effort for some people to learn the parts – they may have to listen to a recording over and over. I think you just do whatever you need to.
Q: What about the attunement side?
Dambara: Again, it has to be individual and spontaneous. It’s really has to come from the heart. Most people who are drawn to the music will sing it because they love it. It’s a new way of looking at the spiritual path generally, where, as Yogananda said, true teaching is individual. It’s why Divine Mother draws us to the things that will be most helpful for us individually.
Q: During a performance, do you feel that you’re giving to people?
Dambara: Yes, definitely. It’s like when somebody asks you for help and you feel so happy to be able to help them. “Thank you, God, for letting me be a channel for Your help.” But, again, there’s a spectrum. Are you able to be a pure, clear, hundred-percent open channel for the Divine as it expresses through the music? Most of us probably haven’t reached that level, but we’re trying, and each step feels like a big spiritual victory.
Once in a while the ego gets in the way. And then there are old habits, and maybe stage fright, lots of things that can get in the way. But despite these things a great deal of energy and light manages to pour out through the music, that people do feel. When I watch videos of Ananda groups, it strikes me that, okay, sure, the music is gorgeous, and yes, maybe the performance is technically great and everybody’s dressed nicely, but what really comes through is the energy in the group, and the inner joy and the unmistakable heart quality. That’s what we’re looking for as singers, and that’s the message that gets through to people, and what they feel from the music.
Q: Is there a special energy that comes through in performances, as opposed to rehearsals?
Dambara: Oh, yes. The Oratorio is a great example, and then very often the Sunday services and other events. No matter how well the rehearsals go, the inner guidance and inspiration go up several notches in performances and you feel God’s grace coming through you. It takes both to make that happen, God’s grace and the group’s energy. I think it’s what keeps us coming back to sing and to hear the music, especially when you find yourself opening to God’s grace, because there’s no more soul-satisfying experience.