By Gurudevi Nirmalananda
His birth was celebrated by his parents, but not for the reasons that we celebrate his birth today.
Swami Muktananda was the treasured first child of his parents. He was welcomed with great joy, more so because they had been infertile for some time. They rejoiced at having a child, especially a male who could care for them in their elder years and inherit their land.
By contrast, we celebrate what he did with his life — his spiritual fulfillment and his sharing it with thousands. I was one who received Shaktipat from him. He steered my life in the direction I wanted to go. Now, decades later, I marvel at who he was and what he gave to us all.
This is the lunar anniversary of his birth, born on the full moon. Yoga sees the moon as being like your mind. While both do shine with light, it is merely reflected light, not the source. The moon reflects the light of the sun; your mind reflects the light of your Divine Essence.
My Baba did shine brightly! He shared the teachings of India’s ancient sages in a captivating way, with a twinkle in his eye. His laugh was a deep chuckle that tickled my mind and warmed my heart at the same time. And he would sing to us, sharing lines from his beloved poet saints.
I loved to go for darshan, bowing at his feet. I would first look at him, the one to whom I was bowing. Then I put my head down, below my heart, getting drenched in the Divine Energy flowing from his feet. Lifting my head, I looked at him again.
Sometimes he was looking directly at me. When he looked in my eyes, he saw all the way through, not just to my soul but beyond — to the infinity within. He opened the doorway for me to step inside and taught me how to live there.
He must have been emotional, as astrology says about a full-moon baby. Stories of his childhood include him ditching school to climb the nearby hills. He complained that the teachers wanted to show pictures of the native plants, but he wanted to go see them live.
The traditional stories of gods and saints captivated him so much that he would enact them with the help of his siblings and friends. He loved to meet the traveling sadhus (seekers) who walked the road near his home on their way to the sacred caves in the hills. One of those sadhus was Nityananda, whom Baba found again, but only years later.
In the interim, Baba followed the traditional path of the renunciant. One night, he ran away from home to go to an Ashram and become a swami.
For the rest of his life, he dedicated himself to deep yogic studies and practices.
I wonder what the tipping point was for him. What happened during the day that led him to climb out the window that night? He felt something strongly, that is clear.
I tried to run away when I was 15. I hadn’t met sadhus or read stories of gods and sages, but I felt the angst deeply, painfully. There were no Ashrams for me to go to, so I was at loose ends. I was lovingly rescued by a friend, protecting me from my own worst impulses. But I still wanted more than home, family and society offered me. It was years before I found Baba.
He had left home in search of God, following a calling to the highest that life offers. He was taken in by a great Siddha, a yoga master, who saw the light shining brightly in him. Siddharuddha Swami nurtured the young man, naming him Muktananda, the bliss of freedom.
His name promised a great future. But that future did not blossom forth for another 25 years, not until Muktananda found Nityananda again. Then, on the day that India gained her independence from Britain, Nityananda set Muktananda free by giving him Shaktipat.
He was born on an auspicious full moon day and initiated on an auspicious day. Then my Baba left his body on another auspicious full moon day. The light shone through him so brightly. And he shared it far and wide. I am forever grateful.
Happy Birthday, Baba.
