As I’ve mentioned ad infinitum in these pages, before I came to Ananda I worked for a small sports publishing company in the San Francisco Bay Area.
When I moved to the community, I was concerned about the fitness of the members. The monks and nuns walked to work from the convent, a strenuous hike. But I knew that there was a level of fitness that would give the rest of us greater energy.
Several members were runners already. Vidura competed at a high level in the marathon, with a best time of 2:37.
Years after I came to the community, I met a man in Grass Valley who had raced at Vidura’s level. In tones of wonder, he said, “I could never figure out how Vidura could run a sub-2:45 marathon on so little training!”
I suspect that Vidura had developed a high level of energy, concentration, will power, and positive attitude by serving Master’s work in many lives.
At any rate, I started an Ananda runners’ club, feeling that it would give us a chance to have fun together in a healthy way.
I ordered t-shirts that said “Ananda Runners” – some old Ananda photos show people wearing them – and we began going to local races.
Soon after the t-shirts arrived, someone mentioned them to Swamiji. He asked to see one and examined it closely. I was struck by the care he took. He never did anything by half measures. I think he wanted me to know that what we did at Ananda should be in tune with Master’s vibration, especially if it bore our name.
I remember a small scene that spoke volumes. I wandered into Earth Song, the restaurant that Ananda formerly owned in Nevada City, where I saw Jyotish and Swamiji having lunch together. As I passed their table, I noticed that Swamiji was speaking in conversational tones, and I was struck by Jyotish’s demeanor. He was wholly focused on what Swami was saying, with an air of humble receptivity. I realized that Swamiji was imparting his wisdom, and that Jyotish was receiving it with complete, absorbed attention.
After service one Sunday, Jyotish and I arranged to go for a run together. When we stopped by his house so that he could change, Devi said, “Swami would like us to come over to his place to talk.”
Jyotish turned and said, “Sorry, Rambhakta, maybe another time.”
If it happened today, I would understand, of course, but I was young and full of a runner’s oats, and I found it hard to let go of the prospect of a pleasant run together.
Paramhansa Yogananda’s chief disciple, Rajarsi Janakananda, said, “I have come to understand that one hundred percent of the spiritual path is receptivity.”
Reflecting on the people I’ve known at Ananda, not a few of them for more than forty years, I find that the happiest and spiritually most deep are those who’ve given their lives most fully to God. I hope that, in time, I can become more like them.