We were fortunate to once again host Sri M for Awakin in Berkeley a few weeks ago. His autobiography, Apprenticed to a Himalayan Master, is both a fascinating story and an exercise in stretching one’s own mind to hold possibility for experiences that can be hard to swallow for rational materialists. Mystical tales aside, I had wondered about Sri M’s own teacher, a wandering yogi named Maheshwarnath Babaji who defied being photographed, had no organization, no ashram, and no apparent or well-known interactions with other people besides his students-- of which we knew of only one, Sri M himself. One might say that Maheshwarnath’s entire long life amounted to literally nothing with zero residue, save a single student who was transformed and wrote of him decades after his passing. If one were ever inclined to come up with a story about a mystical special teacher, Maheshwarnath would be the perfect candidate since no claim one made could be either disputed or validated since Maheshwarnath’s very existence itself couldn’t be vouched for by another person.

Yet a touching and powerful moment came up during a question about the difference between blind devotion and healthy devotion that put my doubt about Maheshwarnath to rest. In Sri M’s answer, he shared a story of a time when his teacher told him to ‘get lost’ because he was become too dependent, which is quite contrary to an important goal of spiritual training that is designed to make you independent. Without fully understanding or agreeing with the decision, he packed up his bags with minimal protest. Feeling deeply dejected, he tried to puff himself up with machismo around stepping up into the ‘real yogi’ lifestyle of roughing it on his own, yet still had a heavy heart as he began walking away in the rain. Hours passed before he finally sat down, many raw emotions still swirling in his heart. Shortly after, he heard something approaching in the darkness. His heart leapt with hope that it was his teacher (though it could have been a tiger), but he was feeling too proud and detached to turn around and look. Then he heard his teacher’s familiar voice and felt his hand falling on his shoulder, almost in response to the prayer that his pride wouldn’t allow him to make. Sri M’s eyes welled with tears as he recalled the touch of his teacher’s hand and the brief exchange that followed where he was brought back under his teacher’s wing.

What I saw and felt in that moment was the unmistakable way that Sri M was moved by the love and kindness of his teacher. To witness that swell of tear-inducing gratitude washed away any doubt I had about whether Maheshwarnath Babaji existed. In turn, my heart was filled with gratitude for the invisible causes and conditions that put one of Maheshwarnath’s few students in our midst.

May we all know love and kindness so pure that it creates a lifetime of tears of gratitude!

Among the fascinating questions also covered were the connection between the Kriya / Nath traditions and the Buddhist tradition, spirituality being caught and not taught, what to do in a dark night of the soul, and several others. Those who were unable to join us in the physical space can check out the video. Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.