
My first three years at Ananda were miserable. I was in an almost unbroken state of inner turmoil, torn by moods and depression, triggered by a sense of my unworthiness. At the deepest level, my problem was that I was much too self-involved.
Swamiji tried to help me rise above the turmoil. If he saw me take even a tiny step in the right direction, he would be encouraging. I would say that he celebrated my small victories.
I lived in a tiny cabin a little way down the hill from the publications building. I was there one day, feeling flattened by depression. Finally, unable to bear the dark mood any longer, I thought, “I’ll go up to Pubble and do a little work on Ananda’s magazine. I may be a total loss as a devotee, but maybe I can be useful.”
I trudged up the hill under a cloud, feeling like Pig Pen, the little boy in the Peanuts cartoons who was always surrounded by a cloud of dust.
Climbing the Pubble steps, I saw many boots and shoes in the foyer, suggesting that some kind of pow-wow was underway.
I heard joyous laughter, and when I opened the inner door I saw that a crowd of people were crammed into Asha’s office.
Not wanting to infect the happy devotees with my mood, I tried to edge around the gathering. But just then Swamiji’s voice rang out. He said, very loudly and cheerfully, “Hello, Rambhakta!!”
The crowd parted – they were mostly nuns – so that I had an unobstructed view of Swamiji. He sat in Asha’s chair, smiling affectionately, and said, “How are you?”
“Fine, sir.” I was embarrassed to be feeling so downcast in his presence. Surely it wasn’t the proper way that a devotee should feel.
“Good! Well, nice to see you.”
I proceeded to my desk and began working on the latest issue of Spirit & Nature, an Ananda magazine that would later be called Clarity.
After a half hour, I paused and noticed that I was feeling much better. In fact, I felt wonderful. My mood had lifted and I felt fine.
Over the years, I would have many opportunities to repeat the lesson. I now believe that there is no problem so thorny, no mood so deep, no depression so profound that it cannot be resolved by forgetting ourselves in God’s service. When we put ourselves in a relationship of service to Him, we feel His joy flowing through us. Dark moods vanish like the night before the rising sun.
Before I came to Ananda, when I was a member of Self-Realization Fellowship (SRF), I wrote a letter to Brother Bhaktananda, the monk who served as men’s correspondent. (This was before SRF began signing its letters impersonally, “Mother Center.”)
In the letter, I mentioned several personal problems and asked for Bhaktananda’s advice. I treasured his letters which were filled with wisdom and inspiration. I knew that he was the monastic who had been with Paramhansa Yogananda the longest.
In his reply, he addressed my questions in his usual wise way. And then he said, “There are no personal problems.”
Well! It would take me decades to unravel that one.
I realized, in time, that it is true. This world, and this life with its endless struggles, is not our home. If we can learn to lift our awareness into Spirit – the “land beyond my dreams,” as Yogananda called it in his beautiful chant – we will find that our “problems” fade, and that they are not part of our true nature, but are merely artifacts of our attachment to this plane of unreality.
The straightest path to inner freedom is simple. As Swamiji never tired of reminding us, it is through childlike devotion and humble service.