So you have a regular spiritual practice—you go to yoga [0] three times a week, let's say, or you meditate every day. Yet the practice feels less fulfilling than it used to: You've somehow lost touch with the core teachings that define the purpose of your spiritual struggles. This is no doubt one of the reasons that svadhyaya [1], scriptural study, is one of yoga's main ethical precepts. The natural tendency of the human mind is to forget, and it's necessary to be reminded of where we are and where we're going.
The 60th anniversary of the publication of Paramahansa Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi [2] is a welcome opportunity to revisit just such a philosophical and spiritual touchstone. As other reviewers over the six decades since its publication have noted, Autobiography is indispensable and delightful reading for yogis, those interested in yoga, or anyone who appreciates good literature. The book is an acknowledged masterpiece, a profound classic of wisdom and storytelling, a record of a seminal period in 20th-century spiritual history.
In case you haven't come across the book in your own explorations (I didn't until a friend gave me a copy), Autobiography is a tale of yoga's history in India, its marvels, its secrets, and its philosophy; the book is also a recounting of yoga's journey to the West beginning in the 1920s, told by the swami who carried the treasures with him (Yogananda was one among several yogis who were bringing such illumination to the West at that time). His memoirs provide a mind-stretching journey into the ideas and practice of yoga. And the author relates these subjects with an endearing charm and wit.
Yogananda was born in Gorakhpur, India, in 1893, the son of parents who were themselves immersed in spiritual studies. Born Mukunda Lal Ghosh, Yogananda found himself drawn to spiritual subjects from early on in life. Indeed, his first memories were "of a distant life in which I had been a yogi in Himalayan snows." He studied in regular schools, always pursuing his spiritual inclinations throughout various adventures and misadventures—attempting in high school, for instance, to run away to the Himalayas to find a spiritual master. Eventually, through fortuity that Yogananda would no doubt ascribe to divine grace, he meets his guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar Giri [3], and becomes his student. He devotedly serves Yukteswar at his ashram, and after ten years studying (while also completing his university degree), Yogananda becomes a monk in 1915.
Yogananda establishes a boys' school in Ranchi, India, and is then told that he has been selected for a very particular task: To spread the teachings of yoga to the West. He travels to America in 1920 to do precisely that, setting up an organization named Self-Realization Fellowship to train people in the technique known as Kriya Yoga. As Yogananda explains, "Kriya Yoga is thus ‘union (yoga) with the Infinite through a certain action or rite (kriya).' A yogi who faithfully practices the technique is gradually freed from karma or the lawful chain of cause-effect equilibriums." Yogananda shepherded students in America for 15 years, returned to India for a sojourn, arriving back in California in late 1936. He died in 1952.
These are some of the milestones of Yogananda's life, but Autobiography, which the author wrote over the course of many years, is far more profound than a dry retelling of dates and events. Woven in with his own recollections, the book contains the wisdom passed down over thousands of years by yoga masters. Yogananda discusses the lineage of yogis who discovered and developed mystical teachings. He conveys teachings about pranayama [4], interprets miracles, and reflects on the laws of karma [5]. He writes about the mystical nature of Indian music and considers the parallels between Einstein's theory of relativity and yogic teachings. In numerous reflections, he emphasizes the essentials: "Yoga is a method for restraining the natural turbulence of thoughts, which otherwise impartially prevents all men, of all lands, from glimpsing their true nature of Spirit."
In addition to having a deep comprehension of yoga philosophy—not to mention of science and literature—Yogananda is a superb writer. He embodies his impressions and experiences in a compelling, evocative prose, capturing conversations and events that took place many decades before he set down to write his book. Describing the Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore [6], Yogananda recalls, "Stalwart, tall, and grave, he combined an almost womanly tenderness with the delightful spontaneity of a child." In a passage describing his first experience with "cosmic consciousness," he writes, "A swelling glory within me began to envelop towns, continents, the earth, solar and stellar systems, tenuous nebulae, and floating universes. The entire cosmos, gently luminous, like a city seen afar at night, glimmered within the infinitude of my being."
For all its seriousness, Autobiography is extraordinarily lighthearted, which makes it eminently readable and accounts in part for its enduring appeal. The book is not structured as a series of yogic pronouncements from on high; rather, explorations of yoga philosophy and teachings are woven into tales of meeting practitioners of mystic arts (levitating saints, etc.), of studying with various gurus, of travels to sacred sites. Yoganadanda also records the often fantastic histories of yogis from previous generations.
Self-Realization Fellowship [7], the organization that Yogananda founded, is commemorating Autobiography's anniversary with a website [8] and a discounted price on the paperback version [9] of the book. To practice satya [10], which Yogananda would no doubt have encouraged, the material featured on the website is not in-depth or especially compelling: Quotations and excerpted passages are repeated in more than one section of the site, some of the material is
repurposed from comments gathered for the book's 50th anniversary commemoration, and, as of this writing, certain sections of the site were not working. In this sense, SRF missed out on an opportunity to provide a thoughtful historical appreciation that would complement readers' understanding of Autobiography. My suggestion is to buy the book and skip the website.
Shortly after their first meeting, Sri Yukteswar implores Yogananda, "If you ever find me falling from a state of God-realization, please promise to put my head on your lap and help to bring me back to the Cosmic Beloved we both worship." While Yogananda never had to heed his guru's entreaty, he nevertheless has provided precisely such gentle, good, warmhearted guidance for the many legions of readers who continue to discover, rediscover, and delight in Autobiography of a Yogi.
Autobiography of a Yogi
By Paramahansa Yogananda
Self Realization Fellowship, Los Angeles
504 pages