In the Path of Light with Maa: A Journey of Love and Transformation

Contents

Foreword

Dedication

Acknowledgment

I.

The Early Years

2.

And Then Came Maa

3.

Come Fly With Me!

4.

Getting To The Bottom Of It

5.

Bridging East And West

6.

From East To West To East

7.

Taking Off For India

8.

Creating Community In Crestone

9.

Transitions

10.

Atmiji and Atmiyaji

11.

Becky and Me

12.

It All Comes Around

13.

Practice or You’ll Get Rusty

14.

Let There Be Light!

15.

My Favorites

16.

Let’s Come to the Edge

Appendix: Reminders

Foreword

Or should I say Forward?

You could say we’re all moving forward. Evolution implies this; we’re all evolving into something. At the same time, we’re always here in the present. We could even describe ourselves as a movement in the present, with no duality of forward or backward. Let’s stop there. This isn’t the time or place to get into a philosophical treatise about the illusion of time or duality, so we’ll come back to this later.

Forward movement … evolution. I think of three examples as I write these words. We’re about to enter the new year of 2011. My name changes legally at the end of this year to Swami Parameshwarananda. Thirty-two years ago, I came to the island of Mauritius off the southeast coast of Africa as a management consultant, and in a few days I’m returning there for New Year’s as a swami with my guru, Sai Maa, who was born there.

How does all of this apply to why I’m writing this book? What are my intentions, and how would I like this book to serve you?

I intend for this book to serve all types of people at different stages of their lives. For example, maybe you’re dissatisfied with your life. You’re unhappy in a relationship, or you don’t know how to relate to your child. Perhaps you’re uncomfortable in your own skin and don’t know why. Or you’re facing major transitions, such as losing a loved one or a job, and you no longer have what you’ve held onto for years as your identity. Maybe you feel unfulfilled, that you’re not expressing who you really are, or you’re looking for more meaning in your life. On the other hand, perhaps you’ve had a great life, yet there is something missing, something more you have an instinct you are to fulfill.

The common denominator among all of these examples is moving forward. You’d like to evolve from who you are or where you are right now in your life.

Aternatively, this book will also benefit you if you’re realizing you have to look inside yourself to evolve. The truth of who we are is hidden within us; however, many of us play hide and seek. We hide from ourselves and look outside for other people or things to fulfill us. Maybe you’re starting to look within yourself, or you’ve been doing it for quite some time. You’re looking to understand yourself and your life more so that you can take the necessary steps to move forward.

Finally, this book is for those of you who want to transform and not just change. What’s the difference? With change, you’re adjusting or rearranging your form or outer appearance. You’re fundamentally the same person underneath the surface changes. It’s like plastering and painting a house: the same underlying structure is still there. When you transform, you’re reinventing yourself so you can’t be traced back to your original form. You’re recreating who you are through new thoughts, feelings, and perspectives about yourself and your life. This recreation shows up powerfully in your actions, communications, relationships, and self-expression.

In summary, this book serves diverse people who want to move forward by looking inside themselves and transforming.

I’d like you to consider two more important aspects of the book.

I’m a swami from the Hindu tradition. I wear whites; you can see this in the photos. You’ll read stories about my evolution, including my clothing. I respect and honor my lineage; however, I’m not coming from religion in writing this book. The focus is on spirituality, that Spirit which is the truth or essence within all of us that we find when we go within. Spirit is what we realize, express, and live in our everyday lives as a result of our transformation.

Second, I’ve taken the path of having a guru or enlightened master in my life. You’ll see how this was inevitable, a blessing I wasn’t looking for that came to me in the form of Maa. This book covers my evolution and profound transformation over sixteen years with Maa. In reading this book, there’s no requirement you choose Maa as your guru. You’re not obligated to have a guru in your life. You don’t have to make my choices, look like me, wear the same clothes, or shave your head. If you’re interested in taking the path of remembrance, rediscovering that Spirit within you and living as that in your life, then this book will support you. I fill the following pages with lessons that will contribute to your evolution.

I really suffered prior to meeting Maa. My suffering—I use my on purpose because I was so attached to it—culminated in the two years just before I met Maa. This book exists for you to learn from my suffering so you don’t have to suffer.

This is a travel guide for your transformation. You’re going on a journey, and you’ll visit different countries, different states and energies. You’ll come upon the lessons I learned and questions you can ask yourself. You don’t have to ask yourself all the questions, since answering them could take several lifetimes. Just choose whichever ones jump out because they spark something in you. These questions will lead you to learning more about yourself so you’re clearer about where you’d like to focus your transformation.

As you continue to travel through each chapter, you’ll encounter practices associated with the lessons and questions. These are suggestions for you to apply in your daily life. Yes, we can all learn about ourselves; however, unapplied learning doesn’t move us forward in realizing our intentions, our dreams, or ourselves. Realizing these is the reason we all incarnated in the first place, at this particular time and in this physical form. Practices enable us to live our birthright, our raison d’être, our life’s purpose. Practice makes perfect, where perfection is the Self with a capital S.

Use my path and associated lessons as a framework from which to view and design your own journey. After reading the whole book, turn to a chapter that most resonates with you. Focus on specific questions to ask yourself, and use them for journaling and discussions with others. Identify practices to apply in your life that will best serve you in areas in which you’d most like to transform. Ask yourself one question each day, or choose one practice to apply during a day or over a period of time that works for you. It’s all up to you.

You have reminders in the appendix of the different lessons and practices throughout the book. Use these as a catalyst for ideas to review and apply in your life. Topics covered in the chapters include self-mastery and creating a powerful spiritual practice; transforming thoughts and emotions; building your relationship with your partner or children; improving your communication and leadership; the ego and suffering; and awakening and enlightenment.

The questions, lessons, and practices must touch you in some way for you to be attracted to them and apply them. Many will, because they’re central to being human and living life. There’s nothing special about me; we have a lot in common. As I said, I suffered, messed up, and fell apart. Then I started on a path of transformation, and since then I’ve focused, persevered, and been disciplined. Most importantly, I’ve been devoted.

We can all progress in whatever paths we choose, as long as we’re devoted to that true essence within us and take responsibility and action to realize it. This is what Maa calls being in the path as opposed to on the path. Due to the transformations I’ve lived and am living, possibilities show up in my life. These will appear and manifest in your lives as you move through the journey of your own transformation.

I invite you to let me know whether my intentions are met when you finish the book; you may contact me at Swamiji@HumanityInUnity.org.

I evolve as I write these words, as self-expression is key to transformation for all of us. We’re clearer about who we are through expression; we gain greater clarity about our lives. As Maa teaches, as have other great masters, we’re all energy or Shakti, the dynamic, intelligent, feminine energy of creation. When we express ourselves, we’re allowing this energy to express itself. This energy then serves its natural purpose, which is our own: to be free and create.

I’m grateful to you for reading this, for dedicating this time and devoting yourself to your evolutionary path in life. I’m grateful for what I’ve lived and what I live right now. I know that these limitless possibilities are available to all of us. Let’s tap into them and take action to realize ourselves inside and out.

This is quite a journey we’re on. Let’s say it together, What a trip! We’re both the travel agent and traveler. It’s up to us to create the itinerary for a journey filled with joy and wonder, new sights and adventures. A journey that takes us to a destination that feels like home because it is the love within our very own hearts.

Her Holiness Jagadguru Sai Maa Lakshmi Devi

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my guru, Her Holiness Jagadguru Sai Maa Lakshmi Devi; to my beloved Maa who has served me in this life experience for over sixteen years. I know Maa has loved me, served me, and been with me for many life experiences—for eternity. I am eternally grateful.

Maa reveals herself to me in many ways at every moment. That is, when I’m aware. Maa is here when I call upon her with my inner voice, my breath, and all the love in my heart. I access this love because of the presence of Maa in my life. We can all be blessed with the revelation of the love of Maa within us.

Maa isn’t the physical form, the memories of Maa, the experiences of Maa, the words written about Maa. Maa is beyond human consciousness. Maa is the realm of all possibilities, the unified field, pure space, the primordial sound of Om, the state before creation. Maa is me, you, all humanity, all planets and galaxies, all worlds, all dimensions, All That Is.

Maa is the Self that I devote myself to, the witness, the indweller, the knower and known, the lover and beloved. Maa is the love that is Source, the core and essence of all of us as creation.

Maa is the Shakti that propels and manifests this written expression of Maa. Maa is our longing. Maa is the reason we’ve incarnated so many times to realize the Self in physical form, to live the life divine in every moment. Maa is present in form and without form, as light, sound, and vibration in multiple dimensions at the same time.

I dedicate myself to you as Maa, to you as me, as the Self, as the love that I feel and know so well through Maa. This book is an expression of this dedication to Maa and all that Maa is.

As Maa writes at the end of messages, Your Ever Maa. Let this declaration of being forever and eternally ours comfort you, nourish you, and serve you as it has me to this day and as it will for so many more to come.

Yes to my life with Maa, to Maa as my life, to Maa as life.

Om Jai Jai Sai Maa (I honor Divine Mother within me, within you.)

Acknowledgment

I devote this book and myself to Maa. At the same time, I can’t continue the book without acknowledging my daughter Becky, what I put her through when she was growing up, how we’ve grown together, and how we continue to create our relationship and learn from each other. I devote a chapter to our relationship and lessons parents can apply with their children. I asked Becky to contribute to that chapter, and fortunately for all of us, she agreed.

Becky inspires me. She’s vibrant, passionate, creative, engaged, and ready for everything. Maa has expressed her favorite mantra as, Yes, I’m ready! and Becky lives this. She’s demonstrated so many times how open she is to looking at herself. She speaks honestly about our relationship and others, what’s working or not. She’s not just talking; she’s acting and transforming.

Becky’s a movement. She graduated from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts in New York City and lived with me for a while in Sausalito. She moved to Mill Valley, then on to Oakland, and then back to Brooklyn. She’s bicoastal now, living and working in Los Angeles and New York. She’s moved up from a production assistant to coordinator to manager on commercials and films.

Becky doesn’t just work professionally at something she loves. She’s an African dancer! Right now, as I write this, she’s in Guinea, dancing again with an African ballet troupe. I’ve watched her dance many times in different cities around the world, including New York, Los Angeles, Paris, and Wellington, New Zealand. She makes time for dance and yoga classes wherever she travels. She practices what she loves.

I’m grateful for how much I’ve learned through Becky about myself, my relationships, and my life over the past thirty years. I’m grateful for Becky’s life force, dynamism, sense of humor, and laughter. I’m grateful Becky loves movies and popcorn as much as I do. Even though she blames me and genetics for some crooked toes and mild skin rashes from the sun, I love how Becky loves me. I love how much she loves meeting people and getting to know them. I love that she loves life two hundred percent.

I know what Becky means to me and how our love and relationship will grow and redefine itself through our own personal transformations. I know that I couldn’t be who I am now without her and that this truth will apply for the rest of my life.

Merci, ma fille. Je t’aime à jamais.

January 2011

I.

The Early Years

What’s a nice Jewish boy from the Midwest doing as a swami devoted to a guru and wearing whites with a shaved head?

First of all, there wasn’t and isn’t much for me to shave each day to end up with no hair. Second, I’m going to give you some clues about how this happened by explaining my background leading up to meeting Maa.

Start by taking a look at me below before and after Maa. Maa and I have joked for years about providing everyone with before-and-after photos to help them appreciate their transformations. Notice my hair in the older photo. A friend of mine during that period called me the draper because I draped my hair over to cover up what wasn’t there (the wind wasn’t my friend). You’ll see this is symbolic and indicative of how I covered up a lot in my life at that time.

    Dr. Paul H. Faerstein     Swami Parameshwarananda

I was born in Chicago into a traditional Jewish family and moved to the suburbs, like many, when I was eleven. My life in Niles wasn’t very eventful or too different from the norm. I had my bar mitzvah, mainly for the gifts. I went to movies, a pastime that hasn’t changed. I went to Burger King; my diet has changed. I went to summer camp. My strongest memory is being thrown into the deep end of the swimming pool to learn how to swim. It didn’t work. I just choked, swallowed a lot of water, was embarrassed, and hated going to the pool.

I always did well in school, but not in sports. I didn’t have too many friends. I was bullied in those days by greasers, as we called them, and let’s just say I didn’t look forward to riding on the school bus. My extracurricular activities included choir, of which I was president in my senior year of high school, and theater, where I was a member of both the cast and crew. I understudied for Rolf in The Sound of Music, buy I didn’t go on and become a star.

During my childhood and young adult years, I was very attached to my mother and thought I would never leave her. I got on all right with my father, who was pretty quiet and withdrawn, but I didn’t really know him. I didn’t get on well at all with my brother, who was angry and depressed for many years. He told me years later that I followed him around when I was young, and he ignored me. I never really knew him, either.

I was what one calls the good child, meaning I wasn’t a problem at school or at home. No cigarettes, no drugs, no alcohol, no sex. No fights, no rebellion. I was sensitive to the moods of the family and kept things as light as I could by joking, pleasing, and doing and being as was expected. There was an undercurrent of anger in the house, usually unexpressed. There was heavy silence during meals. The anger, resentment, and sadness continued to fester inside me for many years.

When I went to Beloit College in Wisconsin in 1972, it was the first time I’d been really independent. I continued with my love of French as a major. (I began studying French when I was eleven.) I added in psychology later as my double major. I met Leslie, my wife-to-be, that first year, on the first day of classes, appropriately in nineteenth-century French Romantic literature. I was excited by my first intimate relationship. We were friends at first, and I even let Leslie’s boyfriend stay in my room during his visit to the campus. It then developed to something more during a visit to New York when I stayed with Leslie and her parents for the first time. Leslie’s mother predicted this when we met; she was always very perceptive.

Leslie and I spent our junior year abroad in France on an exchange program with other students. We studied at La Faculté des Lettres in Rennes, Brittany, and stayed with different families. I lived in a little château with a gruff yet kind lieutenant colonel, his funny and eccentric wife, their beloved dachshund, and a maid. One of my exchange parents was a descendant of Lafayette, and one night after dinner Monsieur and Madame went to the salon armoire and pulled out letters written on yellowed parchment paper between Lafayette and General George Washington during the Revolutionary War. I was impressed. As for everyday living, I relished having a maid, dipping Nutella sandwiches on baguette into steaming hot chocolate in the morning, and running up the winding, red-carpeted staircase to my bedroom.

Leslie lived with a large, friendly, and boisterous family with many children. I relaxed being with them, listening to their heated political conversations over delicious meals. They represented diverse political factions, including Marxist-Leninist, Communist, and Fascist. I didn’t catch everything they were saying and joined in when I could. This was in stark contrast to growing up where silence reigned supreme during meals.

After four months, Leslie and I finished our exchange program and moved to Paris, a city I loved immediately for its elegance, history and diversity. We lived in the first-floor servant’s quarters of a townhouse on a gated street by the Seine and Eiffel Tower. It was on Rue Gaston St. Paul. I would have other Saint Pauls in my life (see two paragraphs below). By the way, my birth name was Paul, not that I’m a saint. My middle name was Harry, not that I’m that, either.

Leslie worked with a charter flight company on the Champs-Elysées in Paris, and I worked in a suburb, Neuilly-sur-Seine, as a bilingual receptionist at the American Hospital of Paris. I didn’t use many skills, but I fought for tips and made some. I didn’t enjoy taking the newly deceased’s wealthy relatives to the morgue. After Paris, Leslie and I traveled for several months on a Eurail Pass throughout many different cities in Europe. We got engaged in Berne, Switzerland, diamond engagement ring and all.

We left Europe after almost a year overseas, lived in New York City with Leslie’s parents, and worked as typists at Teachers College for college credit. Leslie’s father, who was a brilliant intellectual and loved to drink and debate, put me to the test. Her brother was hostile and made it apparent he didn’t like me. I kept as quiet as I could, continuing my pattern of holding in what I felt. My compensation was getting free tickets to the theater from her father, and eating terrific corned beef sandwiches and pickles at his famous midtown delicatessens. Leslie and I were more than ready to return for our final year at Beloit. We got married on April 4, 1971, at Saint Paul’s Chapel on Columbia University’s campus. I was twenty-one.

It was a whirlwind of activity that didn’t stop. We graduated from Beloit in August 1972, and we both started graduate school in September just after moving back to Manhattan. I went into the PhD program in industrial/organizational psychology at New York University, and Leslie went into the MSW program at Columbia University, followed by the EdD program at Teachers College. We both received our doctorates seven years later.

Those years for me were filled with classes, internships, comprehensives, my dissertation, and consulting part-time and then full-time a year before graduation. Leslie worked full-time at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital after she obtained her MSW and continued on for her doctorate. There were ups and downs in our marriage, but we decided to have a child as we neared the completion of our studies.

Picture this. It’s late at night on May 16, 1980. Leslie’s lying down in bed, and her water breaks during Johnny Carson. We wrap her in an orange bath towel and get a cab to nearby Beth Israel Hospital. After twenty-two hours of intense labor, Leslie gives birth to Becky. And how did Becky enter this world? Sunny-side up, looking straight at me—a gift I now cherish with all my heart.

The following years before meeting Maa were filled with contrasts. I felt comfortable, had fun, traveled, and socialized. I suffered, was angry, was in conflict, and was