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Part 1: The Temple Within: A Journey of Purification and Presence Pranām Gurudev, pranām brothers and sisters. I will also enjoy myself with you, because it is beautiful here. Nature and the breeze speak to our hearts. It is a beautiful program, and everything is divine. I should speak about certain of my feelings and experiences, and that is very difficult. You have the experience that when you want to convey some of your feelings into words, it is hard. You will encounter the fact that the one to whom you are transmitting it will mostly not understand it. And so, often we keep our feelings closed off, even that which we call experiences. But it happens that people sometimes gather and are attuned to the same feelings. Then they understand each other very well. They don’t even need to speak much. Yet, there were many people there who showed absolutely no respect. Even though something was said, they simply came and wanted, left and wanted. And they did not like that. As it happens to you, for example, if you simply wanted us to perform some karma yoga or give a lecture, or take a walk, the schedule might have shifted. For me, it was so difficult. It was simply hard, and I said, I will never lead this seminar again. So I signed up for this year’s seminar, but not for the intensive one—I just offered to help out and so on. Then Parvatī called me, along with some other duties, saying I must go to Brno, so off I go, whatever will be, will be. I thoroughly excuse myself here. Parvatī called me, saying I have an intensive seminar. How so? Why? Well, Svāmījī said so. I have never heard a lecture by Jasra Špudžī where I would say, well, another topic. So I thought to myself, hello. And the time came, the seminar began. I realized that it is completely different from the theological one. Beautiful atmosphere. Discipline. Simply effort, desire. A seminar that is very beautiful. Only one person was late. That was me. To transmit such feelings is very easy and very beautiful. To share and resonate. And the belief that Gurudev is pleased by this, although he would never say that it is good. The second such insight from this year’s seminar is that I have come to India. India with its essence. Not just the almost Indian weather. The warmth truly begins in India. But the essence is that here are the svāmīs, the disciples of Svāmījī, who are svāmīs themselves. Of course, we can experience that reality, that Svāmījī is here with us through them. In it, we have His presence. And so within us can arise the desire that through us, too, the Svāmījī may be everywhere. The path simply opens up for us or reveals to us that it is possible. Svāmījī sometimes said, I cannot be everywhere. But I can be there through you. And that applies to each one of us. Because we are disciples. He has accepted us. And He wants to realize this with us. But perhaps there are some things we do not know. We do not know what those of you who are here, who have come from that India, from that sun, must have gone through. What they had to go through, what they had to give up. And this we should realize. Because if we want to achieve that—and we don’t have to be svāmījīs—we can achieve it as fathers, mothers, simply in any way. But we must sacrifice something for that. To renounce something. And to strive for something. Of course, in order to achieve that, we need two things. To realize the urgency of the situation. That something needs to be done with this life. And to have a certain motivation. I would like to speak about that urgency and that motivation, and also about the obstacles that stand in the way of it. All of nature has a certain inertia. And when we want to change something on any level, obstacles arise to that. We must overcome certain obstacles. Sometimes we cannot overcome those obstacles on our own. We need help. Who will help us, who has the great power to overcome those obstacles. And that help will come only when we put all our strength into it. I loved fairy tales. But of course, in childhood, in youth. And I realize with yoga how much wisdom there is in fairy tales. And so that love for fairy tales stayed with me, within me. Because, I would say, I have a certain kind of imagination, or perhaps I am naive, I actually translate many things into those fairy tales. I actually don’t speak much about those certain feelings and those kinds of inner approaches, because I consider them to be something internal, or let’s say naive. And it is difficult to convey that. And so at least something. It has been a year since I came from India. I was there precisely for that experience. As many of us set out there simply wanting something to move within us. Those of us who have been there multiple times know the kind of power that exists in India. What is happening within us, around us, in nature, in the universe. It is an amazing experience. But only when Gurudev was there, in the presence of Gurudev. Otherwise, it is all hidden, we do not see it. For example, when you meet a man who is a master blacksmith, you see, he shops in the supermarket, wears a suit, just like other people, in the supermarket, on Klout, and so on, just like other people. And now you have come to the Blacksmith. Then you will see his power. The fire. Iron. Mortar. And divine. Full of energy. This means that in a certain environment, the guru works intensively. And this environment is the āśrama. The guru of the āśrama can do much with us. It is just a few times. And so it is an amazing blessing to be in India, but also to be in the āśrama. With this awareness, we travel to India. It was very interesting because I was literally given a vision for one year. I was saying, what will I do there for a whole year? Half a year is almost too much, but if I have a whole year, then it’s good. I was there with Joti as well; she was six months old then. And so, in half a year, we will return. It was quite interesting because I was given a year, and I simply didn’t yet know that it had any particular significance. We arrived in Delhi, flew into Delhi. I wanted to take a stone that he could grasp. When I tried to grasp it, something pricked me. What is this? What just pricked me? I was looking and I am still looking. In that place where I wanted to be, there was a beautiful scorpion. But he didn’t prick me. Something pricked me even before I caught him. Something, something, I don’t know what. I withdrew my hand and looked to see what was there. This is a small experience, but all of this happens in India. And protection is with us. I came to India, to Nepal. Svāmījī said what we were to do. Each had their own duties. He said, this temple here, it’s simply a large meditation hall, it has a statue of Mahāprabhujī, and around it there are pillars, like arcades. It is simply such a beautiful object, this center. It was all painted with some kind of synthetic or oil-based paint, including the sandstone columns, everything, the ceilings, everything was painted with that color. He said to you, this plastic, this paint, we must remove it and it will receive a new garment. I liked it, I thought to myself, this is going to be quite interesting. No one told me how many I should do, how long I should practice daily. It was simply all on me. As much as I do, I do; however I do it, that’s how I do it. Because something like that was already happening there, Svāmījī’s room upstairs had already been removed and restored again in this way. Someone told me, well, one person did it here for more than a year. I was thinking to myself that there is still work to be done. But then I committed to it and realized how difficult it is. I tried everything possible. I had propambutan brought from Jadan, with fire, so that I could tan that color. It was absolutely impossible. I even tried an angle grinder, thinking I could just grind it down. It was not possible because it went deep and made holes in the plaster. The only technique was, instead of tapping place by place, to chop and then scrape it with great force using a spatula. And so I began in this way. But some things still didn’t work out, so I still used chemistry. That it was applied, then it took effect, it smelled, had to be scraped off, and so on. I made a list of how much I might do in a day and how much I could possibly do. So I thought to myself, well, at least I will do something. But now the fairy tale has begun. The temple is the body. And I must cleanse that temple. I must free him from all the layers of impurities. I am actually cleansing myself. How much dirt, how many layers of impurities are within me. Svāmījī gave me the opportunity to do it. I began to present it; I must do it all. I simply put all my strength into it. Thanks to previous flights, my body is somehow accustomed to overload, or it used to be accustomed to overload. But still, time does its work, and soon I felt fatigue. But I wouldn’t want to say it as if I was just toiling there like that. It was not like that at all. I had a certain routine; in the morning, I practiced āsana and welcomed the day with meditation in Gurudev’s room. Then I worked, then there was a need for rest again, then I worked again. And in the evening again at Gurudev’s. Gurudev leads the meditation. It was wonderful for me. The fact that I was working brought me great joy. I was happy. I also knew that I was actually doing it for Gurujī. We didn’t have much opportunity to truly experience Gurujī. But I was fortunate that when Gurujī was actually in Europe, he visited our ashram, or rather our cottage, which we had built in 1976, twice. I don’t want to go into too many details, but simply, Gurujī was there once and said he would return; when no one was watching, he came back again and was there, spending the night. The week Gurujī spent in Hungary, where there was a seminar, it was in nature, in tents. Svāmījī gave me a whole week of service with Gurudev. Not that I had any duties; I was simply to be there with him, just to be there, so that no one would disturb him, and so on. So I spent the whole week sitting at his feet. In the evening, when there was satsang, Gurujī went inside and told me to come in as well. Gurujī was sitting in his bedroom in the tent, and I was sitting outside that bedroom. I say this because I have truly realized His presence, the beauty, the closeness of that Gurujī. I realized in Nepal, when I closed my eyes in the evening, that his body is not necessary for his presence. He was here, present. Close by. Gurujī was actually sitting on his chair, which was within reach, or on the bed, which was also within reach. Opposite is a life-sized image of Mahāprabhujī. And before me, the image of Vāmijī, and above him, Śiva. Svāmījī’s picture, and above the picture there was Śiva. And so, naturally, like a fairytale, I felt as if I were at the confluence of three rivers, Trivenī. I do not want to put it in the position that I was tired, that I was overworked, that I was simply happy. I do not want to present it as if I were tired. I was actually very happy. But it was because of that motivation. It was also thanks to the motivation. When Joti, who is my second master, was massaging my wound and so on, and was gentle, she told me that I could be more open. You are no longer young; you have years now. So, in a way, that balanced it out. More obstacles arose in the body. I developed an unpleasant rash that was spreading all over my body. I thought that it might endanger me, that because of it I would have to leave earlier. But in a way, the problem was resolved here as well. Because I believed in that story, a certain proof came from it. When I was cleansing the inner space of that temple, I proceeded towards the altar. In one place, where I was chopping again next to the spot, I was disturbing that parva, that shell. Gradually, gradually something was revealed to me. Somehow a head, and above it a halo. Gradually, I was unveiling, and it was Gurujī. I gradually peeled away the color of Gurujī, who sat there, young, still a youth, with a halo. The lamp was shining. Gurujī was holding a book. He had a bruised finger. We were rather surprised; we did not expect it. Rādhā, who used to go there and help with the wound, said so, and I remember, I was a young boy, and there was a painter here who was painting that picture. But Gurudev sat opposite and did not like to look at himself. So he had it painted over. Rāju told me that on the opposite side, there will be Mahāprabhujī. I quickly cleansed, cleansed, so that I could be with Mahāprabhujī as soon as possible. Slowly, slowly, he revealed the image of Mahāprabhujī. Svāmījī was also surprised, or at least he conveyed it. Svāmījī, I would also say that Svāmījī has given us great attention. It wasn’t even a week, and he called several times within the week. How I am, whether we need anything, how everything is going. As it is in the Āśrama, he even called, whether he was in Bombay, even from America he called to Nepal. For me, it was a kind of confirmation that something was indeed happening. That what we do is important. Sometimes Rāḍhu came and said, Svāmījī called and wanted to send his greetings. Or his father Çandanjī also came. They were simply among us in a beautiful way. I actually arrived at the image of Mahāprabhujī. Svāmījī said, you have discovered the image, haven’t you? But unfortunately, the restoration of those paintings was very difficult and costly, because they were truly very damaged. Jogeśjī said that it simply isn’t possible, that it’s no longer there now. But in my heart, it remained as an experience. If we do not remove all the layers of impurities, but we are already making an effort, we are on the path. We receive darśan. That darśan comes as a gift, as encouragement. We become aware of the presence of God within ourselves. That is what the situation here told me. Of course, there was still a lot of other work, also in different activities. Behind it, a new wall was built for the ashram. Svāmījī did not forget occasionally, when he called, to also add some work. He said, that wall, it was built there by Indian workers, but it was not an ashram project, it was some kind of government project, yet it was meant to be the future wall of the future ashram, an expanded, enlarged ashram. Part 2: The Guru's Play: Lessons in Karma, Heat, and Grace Svāmījī instructed that the concrete wall must be watered continuously, several times a day. We took this on as another activity, which involved pulling the hose and filling buckets with water. I would carry them up, six at a time, to water the wall. That is how the work was done. My second master said to me, "You will ruin your hips. Look, you’re already limping." I replied, "No, no. I am performing pūjā to Mother Earth." Every day, I regularly practiced this pūjā. So something else was always woven into the work. Then Svāmījī himself stepped in. We were preparing for his arrival and his chanting—I will skip the details. Svāmījī said, "We will rebuild that āśrama. This part will be demolished, that wall will be moved, and it will expand into the other space. Know that a new structure will be made here, extending toward the river, and a new access will be made to Nepal." Čoti said to Svāmījī, "No, that is a pity. It is so beautiful, so simple." The Swami replied, "And it will be even more beautiful." But just as everything was meant to be overturned and transformed, Svāmījī looked from that wall and pointed to a space, a hollow between the old wall and the new wall where bushes were growing. He said, "You must clear away all those bushes. That is your karma yoga." The bushes were growing from the wall that was supposed to be demolished, with deep roots and all. Of course, I understood the seeming absurdity of it. I didn't voice it, but I could think it. Yet I realized the bushes and roots were symbolic of karmic obstacles. The obstacles were practical, too: I had nothing proper to dig them out with. The tools I had were faulty or broke. It took a lot of work, but finally, I removed it all. I was satisfied; the temple was nearing completion, and I was already working on the outer pillars. Then Jogeś arrived with machines and people. Svāmījī said, "This tree will go away, that tree will go away..."—the big trees. Of course, machines and excavators were needed to dig them out. Those trees, too, are our karmas. Those deep roots are from past lives. For me, in this story, it meant that what we cannot do ourselves, the guru will do. If I had made a mistake, if I had built only half the temple or not purified it fully, Jogeś would not have come because it would not have been ready. Everything was very interconnected. That power, which is greater than our own strength, removed those karmas we could not remove. That is how it happens in our life. The situation was a reflection, a school to understand this. One might think, "Well, it’s all done for me," and that could foster a kind of ego. It seems everything is connected, that it is actually meant for me to do something with myself. But it is not so. It is a divine play, a Līlā. We are fortunate to be participants in that Līlā. We also have the power and the strength to spoil that Līlā. All of this made my stay beautiful and, I would say, very instructive—not from books intellectually, but instructive to my body, my mind, everything. I was happy that everything turned out so well. I understood why those walls must be broken down, what those walls and boundaries mean. We all know what that means. What does it mean to open the āśrama, to open it to space so that the Lord can come, can enter through a new doorway? Thanks to Gurudev, this was my certain lesson in Nepal. Of course, we had some free time. We had a beautiful little trip to Bola Guda. Niranjan came, and we took a... it was simply so lovely. It wasn’t that it wouldn’t work out; it was just difficult for him there. It was beautiful. On the other hand, it wasn’t just a trip; we also faced challenges in Bola Gudā. We rented bicycles several times, rode there on bikes, and made a kind of excursion. It was beautiful. On our trips, we went to Nepal. But the time came when our term was actually ending. I do not know what time we have, whether our time is ending—another 15 minutes. And so, of course, I assumed that I would be going home as well. "You know, Svāmījī, if you have that longing, Svāmījī is grateful for every month when someone stays here." I was so eager, I was already looking forward to it. But I was thinking, "Alright then, but Joti, Joti, stay here, you are needed here." We arrived in Jadan. The Svāmījī asked how long I planned to stay, and he said that I should stay for a month or two. "Alright, so go with Joti to Kailāśa, to Katu, to Jaipur, see them off to Delhi, and then come back." Around that, there was a bit of merriment. Joti began to feel that she would like to stay, but it just didn’t work anymore. And he sent me to Kailāśa. He said, "Haripuri will go to Nepal, Turijanand will go to Kailāśa." Once again, a beautiful time came in Kailāśa. It was no longer the same karma chaos but a different kind of activity: prayer, little lamps, evening satsaṅg. They were simply such beautiful spiritual duties. It was very beautiful. I didn’t yet know how long I would stay, so I always thought, "Just one more month," and so on. Then Svāmījī arrived with a group, and in that group, Haripurī also came. Svāmījī said, "Haripuri will stay here and Turian will return to Nepal." Originally, I had planned to go to Nepal because I still felt some obligations. That person stayed there alone, and I felt a certain sadness about it, feeling sorry that the person was actually there by themselves. But once I was in Kailāśa, I no longer felt like it. Ruparanji said, "I will tell you that he must leave you here. Svāmījī says that I should remain in Kailāśa..." I was saying goodbye to Kailāśa and Haripurī, telling them that I needed to make a quick trip to Nepal because I have medicine there—I hadn’t brought it with me; I hadn’t planned for it. So he went to Svāmījī, saying that he needed to go get those medicines. And Svāmījī said, "So Harry, go to Nepal, and we will remain in Kailāśa." And so I remained in Kailāśa. Kailāśa is beautiful; there were two of us there. Lakṣmaṇ was kind of at the end, he was somewhat withdrawn, also a loner. And I was there with a whip at that little temple. It was simply a beautiful fight. Lakṣmaṇa says, "And without women." The situation was becoming a bit difficult for me. The difficulty lies in the fact that it has just begun with this heat. What I did not feel as a problem before, I now feel—I cannot stand the heat. With each day, the temperature rises. I was sweating. I couldn’t think of anything at all. I was lying on the bed, the sheet instantly soaked through. My head was aching. I thought to myself, "I probably won’t manage this." But I tried. My place, such a beloved place... when there was satsaṅg, and when the satsaṅg ended, I would turn off all the lights, I always returned to the temple and there I sat every evening until night, the little lamps slowly dimming, and so I sat there in front of the altar of Mahāprabhujī. And so, of course, now I have brought the problem of heat, warmth there. Everywhere it was hot. The heat penetrated through the entire body. In the mind, it was hot everywhere, by day and by night. And so I tried to see what could be done with it. I tried to withdraw the consciousness from that heat, but that only succeeded for a brief moment. In a moment, consciousness clung to the body like a shirt. I tried telling myself, "I’m not hot," like when you say, "My tooth doesn’t hurt, my tooth doesn’t hurt." And then one thought occurred to me. I was thinking about a matter from the Guru Gītā: "You are the sun, the giver of life." I realized that the sun, that warmth, is God. I realized that it was when Guru Purnima, when the rays of the sun touched the earth, that life began. That the sun nourishes all life, all living beings. That the sun is Mahāprabhujī. And so I began to reflect that, indeed, sir, you have awakened your presence. I would halve those unpleasant feelings, telling myself, "God fills me." I struggled because it immediately always returned to an unpleasant feeling. After a certain time—quite a long time—I could say, "Sir, thank you for filling me. You are in my breath, you are in my mind. I feel you throughout my entire body. You penetrate to the marrow of my bones." I said this sincerely. From this moment on—but I actually realized it only in the morning—the heat ceased to be a problem. I had no problem with the heat. I could go to the village to shop, I could do anything. Sometimes it was more difficult, but I had no problem. I say this because if I had not had that dedication in the karma-yoga, to face those obstacles, to realize I would not be able to accomplish it alone... Heat has become a great teacher. It showed me what I must do and what I do not yet have the strength to do, but how I should do it. Heat was a great experience and a great master. But what is necessary for this? For all of this, one needs to have motivation. Which we might depict as a fairy tale, but we must believe in the fairy tale. To realize the urgency. What the master is guiding us towards. He does not lead us to die one day, but so that one day we can look death in the face. We only know the gu (darkness), but we know almost nothing about what the ru (light) means. That is ru, that is eternal. And the guru draws us toward that eternal, so that one day we can say to death, "Take the body, have the body. Take everything. It does not concern me." The master guides us to this. And the urgency is time, the time that we have allotted. That stirring which Guruji gives us in the Bhajans: "Awaken. Harness the horses." Simply, what motivates us is what is for us. Actually, that motivation is the urgency for us. The presence here is something immensely precious because here we find that primordial essence at our Gurudev’s place. And so we will learn to sacrifice some trifles, some bonds that we have. It all passes very quickly. Of course, sometimes we take our time; it’s not possible to do everything at once, but it is a process. A guru leads us there. It was, I believe, in the year ’75. Svāmījī said, “Perhaps in this body you will witness pain.” But believe me, this does not concern me. I was wondering who this is, how he speaks. And the question remains here always: who is the guru? What is its eternal essence? Where does it lead me? So everything that happens on our path is a test of how we will prove ourselves. Some things are very unpleasant and difficult; they are hard to overcome, inside and outside. But notice that those people who were here last year and went for a coffee and simply went, who actually came for a kind of picnic, for a seminar—those people are not here. That means everything has two sides. And so I wish you a beautiful remainder of your stay, that you may carry with you a deep experience, and that we may realize how much the ashram needs us. I would speak continuously, but it is not possible. But just again, a little bit... in spring or in winter, I... Vasant said, "Well, we have the money, but we don’t have the capacity to build for Svāmījī, his apartment, his residence. After so many years, we do not have the capacity to build a residence for the guru." That is a troubling realization. To sacrifice something, to come, to help—the ashram cannot live without that. I said to myself, "This opportunity, and we have no one for it. This is my opportunity." And so I began to assist in Svāmījī’s quarters. When I was in Jaipur, India—and I think Jaspar Rajpurījī might have been there—I searched for one sentence. Premanandjī said, "Build a room for me upstairs." I was understanding it again on two levels: "Yes, build it, but also build it within yourself for me." After some time, I arrived in India, and peace... the Svāmījī’s apartment was built there. That is an example. So we are also trying to accommodate these people. Thank you, Turī Ānandjī. I know that anyone who is resting is already looking forward to returning to the hall in the afternoon, where the great teacher will be, meaning the heat, so that we can learn something in the sauna. I have one big, brief, similar experience from last year. Last year, the weather was actually the worst we have ever had during the jāṭhan. In fact, for more than 60 days in a row, the temperature exceeded 43 degrees. I think that almost everyone struggled with it a little. I was actually lying there, unable to fall asleep, which was probably the biggest problem because the walls are actually heated and constantly glowing at night. I actually had a kind of sophisticated method for dealing with it, like Turī Ānandjī does. But in my despair, I actually told myself that I would decide for myself, that I actually like to sleep like this in such nice weather. I don’t know what happened, but I immediately fell asleep. And I no longer had any problem with it at any time. Instead of actually suffering from the heat, just start thinking that you actually like it, that you actually enjoy sleeping in such hot weather. And it was done. In the Rāmāyaṇa, there is a small gathering. You know how Hanuman actually came to Lanka to deliver some message to Sītā. Hanumanjī grows larger to reveal his form to her, and then the guarding is seen. Hanumanjī looks at the rākṣasas before him and believes that within those rākṣasas there are divine things. They have those divine weapons. And with these weapons, they can actually destroy anyone at all. There is a dohā in the Rāmāyaṇa about it, which they do not remember in Hindi. And there it stands, that actually I am watching, and all those rākṣasas have spiritual weapons in their hands. But when I actually start to think that they are not truly the divine weapons, they cease to possess the power of those divine weapons. Last time we talked about anger and so on. And Turī Ānandjī has actually just begun with that heat now. When we actually think that such things have some great power... but when you actually begin to think that they do not have such great power, they actually lose that power. And Hanumanjī actually began to think that those rākṣasas were simply to be fought against, as if they were just ordinary guards.