N 1948, when he was twenty-two, Kriyananda I read Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramhansa Yogananda. Less than a week later, he was initiated by Yogananda as a disciple, and began living as a monk in his guru's ashram in Los Angeles, California.
"You have a great work to do," Yogananda told him repeatedly. This was not a compliment; it was a sacred responsibility.
In 1952, when Yogananda died, he left a "blue-print in the ether," he said, for a worldwide spiritual awakening. For over sixty years, Kriyananda did his utmost to turn that "blueprint" into a practical way of life. He founded communities, schools, and re-treats; wrote books and music, travelled the world, lecturing in five languages; and initiated thousands into Kriya Yoga.
His was a triumphant life, but not an easy one. He was plagued by ill health, financial challenges, and years of estrangement from fellow disciples. The lesson of his life story is in the struggle as well as the victory. A great soul incarnates to awaken in every-one faith in his or her own spiritual potential.
In 1969, when she was twenty-two, Asha met Kriyananda. Recognition was immediate. For forty-four years she was in constant contact with him, as a devotee, friend, personal assistant, and, eventually, spiritual leader in her own right.
Early on he asked her to start taking notes for the book she would someday write. He explained himself to her in a way he did to only a few others. This firsthand account of life with a great teacher is more than a biography. It is a guidebook for spiritual living, a path of light that all may follow.
by Shurjo Jha and Narayani Anaya, author of My Heart Remembers Swami Kriyananda
Narayanis 1 read Autobiography of a Yogi just at the start of the new millennium. The author, Paramhansa Yogananda-a great Indian master-had been gone from this world for almost fifty years. I was amazed how living his presence seemed, and how deep were the feelings his words awoke in my heart.
When I heard that one of his direct disciples was living in Italy, in a com-munity called Ananda. I made plans to go there and meet him. He was an American, known as Swami Kriyananda. I was born in Spain; Spanish was my only language. But I knew my heart would find a way.
I was not disappointed. I met Swamiji-as I soon came to call him-March 9, 2003, my twenty-fourth birthday. The experience was the same as what Asha Nayaswami describes: instant recognition.
For the next ten years, I followed Swamiji as he traveled around the world, visiting Ananda communities in America, Europe, and India. In the last years-as age took its toll and his body became more frail-1 was his constant companion and caregiver.
I had my own way of relating to Swamiji-intuitive, beyond words Asha's way was quite different, she has been talking and writing about Swamiji for decades. Only after his passing, in keeping with his request to me that I write a book, was I able to put some of my experience into words. I called the book My Heart Remembers Swami Kriyananda.
Despite the differences in our temperaments, Asha and I were soul-sisters from the start.
Shurjo: My father was a general in the Indian army. Growing up, we didn't have a home place, we lived all over India as he gradually rose through the ranks. My parents were from different parts of the country; English was their common language, so that is what we spoke at home. I've always felt 1 belong as much to the West as to the East.
In 2006 I was living in Kolkata, finishing my degree in fashion and textile design, when I read Autobiography of a Yogi. I was thrilled to learn that a direct disciple of Paramhansa Yogananda had started a community in India near the city of Pune.
I finished college, but I knew I would never use my degree. My life was already set on a different path: Self-realization. Right after graduation I went to Ananda Pune and joined the monastery. Swami Kriyananda met weekly with our little group of monks-young men who had come from five different countries to learn from Swamiji how to be a disciple of Yogananda.
We were building a community, literally from the ground up. Life was simple-to be more accurate, conditions were primitive. It was wonderful!
Soon after I arrived, Asha came to visit Swamiji. Just as I had left every-thing behind to come build the Pune community, she had done the same-almost forty years earlier to help build the first-ever Ananda community in California.
Her way of relating to Swamiji-respectful, almost reverent, but at the same time, natural, relaxed, frank, often humorous in her conversation with him-showed me something I didn't know was possible: divine friendship in God.
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