encounter with this unassuming master had an unexpectedly dramatic effect on me. Muktananda’s passion spoke directly to my soul, and, in so doing, stirred up uncomfortable, challenging issues for my personality. The meditation stimulated many disturbing memories and intense emotions within me. Wave after wave of energy releases rippled up and through my body. Overwhelmed, anxious and unnerved, I crashed out in my room immediately after the Friday evening satsang.
The next morning was one of those crisp, cloudless summer days that people in New England long for, but seldom get. I decided I’d rather take off, find a lake, go swimming and enjoy the sun, instead of staying cooped up inside with Muktananda and my emotional baggage. After all, my personality reasoned, I could meditate anytime, anywhere, in any weather. I felt an overpowering urge to take advantage of the day’s extraordinary external conditions. In truth, the overpowering urge of my ego was to avoid the day’s extraordinary internal conditions. Looking back, it should have been obvious to me how threatened my ego was that morning. I was antsy and fidgety at the breakfast table, and irritated with everybody and everything around me.
After breakfast, my friends went to Saturday morning satsang. I took off by myself in search of the perfect swimming hole, or, more accurately, in search of the perfect anywhere-but-here!
A thick evergreen forest surrounded the ashram property. Although there didn’t appear to be any trails leading into the woods, a pair of railroad tracks cut a wide swath right through the trees. Deciding it was as good a path as any, I walked along the tracks into the quiet, cool cathedral of pines. Eventually, to