Bhakti Yoga

“Real devotion that comes from the heart is truly expansive. People who have devotion are sometimes looked upon as strange, not very bright, and not thinking for themselves. But those who criticize devotion will never know the bliss that a person who has devotion in his heart will feel. It is an amazing thing.”

~HH Rishi Maha Mandaleshwar Sri Shambhavananda.

Yoga of Devotion, or Bhakti Yoga, is not the yoga you pay $15 for at your local studio, but it does indeed have a place in our modern world. Bhakti Yogis are those that feel that something greater exists, and wish to respect this entity with loving and devotional acts. Many yogis commit their lives to serving this higher power. Some call it God, Shiva, or a greater divine consciousness. Some Bhaktis worship a person who exhibits enlightened traits like the Buddha or a Guru. I like to think of Christians as Bhaktis. Others might feel this higher consciousness is the Self, that it exists within them, and when they meditate or engage in other spiritual practices they are devoting themselves to all of the potential they have inside to be truly great. Some might believe in a combination of all of the above.

I myself am a Bhakti Yogini, and my Guru (Swami Shambhavananda) is often the forefront of my mind throughout my day. I sit with him daily, focusing on his picture and our connection, and I follow my sit by reading a few pages from his book. Some people, even my greatest friends, might view this as obsessed, but I feel blessed to have a living Guru that I can call Babaji. I have known some Bhakti Yogis who will never meet their teacher because s/he is either far away, larger than life, or has already taken samadhi (passed on). I have met devotees of Ama, who show a great deal of love and devotion having only briefly known the nature of her presence. I have been to Siddha Yoga centers and seen the numerous Gurumayi followers who also feel immense love for her from reading her books, attending meditation classes, and interacting with the sangha (yogic community) at her centers. It is inspiring to me that these yogis can thrive on this connection, and attain a great sense of freedom and joy from it. It works for them. And I feel blessed to have found a teacher who works for me. I am able to attend Babaji’s online classes twice a week. I can ask him questions and hear his voice talking directly to me. I can also email him, and at times I send him texts. Sometimes he responds and other times he doesn’t, either way it’s good. I feel so lucky to have a teacher that I can be in such consistent contact with. I make it a priority to see him and spend time with him at least twice a year. The energy I get from those visits is subtle but real.

I don’t often talk about my devotion to my teacher, although I do quote him often and speak of him freely. At times I feel judged for having a spiritual teacher, but when those moments arise I try to look at this as a perception of non-understanding rather than scrutiny. Many people don’t feel that they need a Guru, that they can read ancient yogic texts and modern meditation books, attend lectures, and do it on their own. And for some that could be true. Babaji likens this to getting a PhD without going to college. We know that the ancient teachings of yoga are vast and powerful… so how can we expect to understand them based on our own limited perception and experience? Modern day Indian yoga teacher Sri Desikachar also asserts the necessity of a teacher in his book, The Heart of Yoga. “Having a point of reference is absolutely necessary. We need somebody who can hold a mirror in front of us. Otherwise we very quickly begin to imagine that we are perfect and know it all. This personal connection cannot be replaced by books or videos. There must be a relationship, a real relationship, one that is based on trust. (xxv)”

Teachers are not your friends. I often hear Babaji jokingly express that he is not our therapist or our friend. We don’t call Babaji when we have a bad day and need to vent. We look to him for energy and assistance for our spiritual growth, so we will be better able to handle the ups and downs of our daily lives. Similarly, I should not expect to be friends with my students, or my asana teachers. Yoga is about being present. If we get caught up in emotions, perceptions, or judgments during class, it becomes a distraction and hinders our practice. When my friends come to yoga class and I have to work to treat them like every other student. Similarly, when I take asana class, I am not a teacher or a friend, but a student.

It is not our teacher’s job to take care of us, to protect us, or to dictate our lives. It is, simply, to teach us. Desikachar explains how he was able to work with his father as a spiritual teacher. “When he was a teacher, he was a teacher. He would expect me to be on time. If he asked me to sit I would sit. That is the Indian tradition. He had the ability to separate the teacher relationship from the father relationship. I also spent a lot of time with him as a son, doing the natural things that a father and son do together.”

In the divine mantra Song to the Guru, or, Guru Gita, it is stated that the syllable gu means darkness and ru means light (v 23). Therefore, the Guru is one who brings his/her students from darkness to light, one who helps the student to be free from ignorance and judgment. It does not say that the Guru is a person to tell you how to live your life. I have heard people say that those that follow a Guru feel the need to do everything he says and live their lives in accordance with his every teaching. But I have never gotten that feeling from Babaji. When people ask Baba a question about a choice they must make in their lives, he always tells them to work on becoming present and centered, and emphasizes how this will inform their decision. I have never heard him tell his students what to do.

In some traditions, yogis ask their Guru to be their spiritual teacher. It took me a little while before I was sure. I always received energy when I attended Babaji’s classes, and the practices themselves worked to give me a framework to this broad concept that is meditation. I did Baba’s practices and a little seva on his ashrams for six months before I asked, but the connection was there from the start. Part of me questioned it and judged the whole thing. But everything Baba said made sense, and his manner was so open, lighthearted, and at times dry and sarcastic. I know that teachers aren’t friends, but I liked him. I couldn’t help but feel like we were connected. The first few times I attended his chats, I felt as though he was speaking right to me. When I finally asked Baba to be my teacher, I was doing seva in the Hawaii Ashram. He said, “Okay, Karen. We’re on.” Over the next few days I walked into walls, burned pancakes, and faltered over my sentences teaching yoga classes. There was a whole new energy that I had to learn how to work with, and it wasn’t a graceful transition. When I told my mother that I had asked Babaji to be my teacher, she was naturally curious. I remember saying, “It’s like when we moved to our town and picked our church.” This seemed to be a good answer for her.

Those that know and work with me might see me as a level headed, organized, and competent individual, and it sometimes comes as a surprise that I am devoted to a man wearing orange robes out in Colorado. They don’t know that he’s cracking jokes while talking about the Vedas, or telling us to lighten up and stop whining as he discusses ways for us to become centered during our day. Unless people meet him and listen to him, or have a Guru of their own, it will be very difficult for them to understand. I think some find a piece of the bliss that is a part of yoga and work for years based on that one experience. One of Babaji’s favorite yogic formulas is, “Practice over Time equals Growth.” Single experiences are wonderful, but it takes many over time before they begin to connect and make sense.

Yoga of Devotion often involves chanting mantras and making offerings. Waving lights, sweets, incense, spices, and gifts of our world up to whatever greatness is out there beyond it. Mantra is considered a prayer, and often invokes or praises a specific deity. The vibration resonates through all of the koshas (layers) of our being; physical, mental, emotional, energetic, and spiritual. With mantra it is said that we can experience many different levels of consciousness. When one chants the same mantra repeatedly, it can be very easy to come into a meditative state. You become a part of a greater energy with a community of likeminded people sending love and peace into the world through voice, through centuries. It is not zoning out, it is not delusion. That is a common misconception of chanting and kirtan. It is not like going to a Grateful Dead concert and losing yourself in the music. Indeed, it is quite the opposite. You find yourself present and aware of all of the different aspects of the Self. The state of the body, the emotions, the mind, and the spirit all come out and clearly present themselves.

I know there is a vastness and a potential for even greater levels of consciousness than I have experienced, and I know this because I have seen small glimpses of it and witnessed my own growth because of it. I will have an experience of feeling my heart open, and then sit in meditations plagued with thoughts for the next month. By surprise almost, another experience will crop up where I feel an expansiveness in one of my chakra centers. And then, another six months of thoughtful sits. But through it all I have Babaji, reminding me that spiritual work takes time, takes patience, takes effort. And I can ask him questions and get energy from his answers. It makes the process of growth more concrete when I have someone like Babaji to help me along the way and see where I am going… and to shoot a little fireball in my heart when I need a boost.

When I sit in the temple, I sing my heart out. When I prepare and cook food, I try to send love to the people that will eat it. When I do the dishes and clean the shower, I wish for a peaceful home for my roommates and myself. Before I meditate, I bow to my teacher. As I practice asana, I try to do mantra. Just because we aren’t from India doesn’t mean we can’t learn how to meditate or get a lot out of devotional practices. This practice is ancient but it surely can be a part of our modern life. Yes, I love my teacher and try to do what he says. And what he says is to be present, be compassionate, and do my practice. I have yet to see how this makes me someone who follows blindly, who is delusional. Instead what I see is greater potential for happiness. I am working on attaining a life and a state of being beyond what I could have imagined for myself. Beyond what I could have given myself. Perhaps I will not become enlightened in this lifetime, or ever. According to Babaji, all of that is up to me.