Wednesday, June 23, 2010


The new book begins in 1981 when Baba Muktananda was still alive. Gurumayi was still called Malti. I began to study hatha yoga in Manhattan with a devotee of Baba's, a man who traveled often to South Fallsberg, had gone with his wife and infant daughter to Ganeshpuri, had even managed the Manhattan ashram for a summer. Now he ran his own yoga school. "No one else really understands Baba," he used to say to us. "Only I do." And I believed him. Memoir In Progress

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Its healthy for you to speak openly about your perceptions but what is your motive for your readers? Certainly you don't expect everyone to believe you without also hearing from the others you talk about. What is the truth? Without proof of the truth, that makes this a fictional story! I'd like to hear your enlightenment as well of how you were once blind but now can see. The world is full of sad stories. How about a path or guidence for others trapped in the perceptions you were? Should you want your readers trapped in the problem or enlighten them with a solution?