by L. a. Mettananda (Author)

During the early 1970s in L.A., the author was focused on a variety of spiritual paths in his lifestyle. A sudden event prompted him to plan a pilgrimage to India. The idea was the traditional form of visiting sacred sites and then flying back from New Delhi in six months. It would start from Europe. There was one problem with that thinking: a return ticket was in hand, but the author was still in Afghanistan at the end of the six months. The plan had changed. Now, there was an interesting teacher, a Sufi. It became an inner and outer pilgrimage.

In the beginning, the idea had included a mental image of the journey. Naturally, this turned out to have no basis in reality. Nevertheless, the author was open to whatever occurred. Each location would be a new home, each a new normal.

From the start in Europe, Indian energy seemed to be everywhere. The author felt completely at home with this. This flow continued right up to arrival in Istanbul, Turkiye aboard the Orient Express. The bazaar, hammams, and chai shops became stepping stones to Asian culture. The chai shops, in particular, hosted congregations of travelers heading East and sharing information. Rumi and Konya were selected to start the journey. The visit was extended for two weeks when adopted by a family. Then it was to Iran with its holy sites and magnificent shrines. After less than a month there, Afghanistan was on the path. At first it seemed like Wild West America--the Western mind hardly made sense of it. There was a new intensity, yet with a flow.

It took just one day in India for the thinking to be so changed as to seem impossible! Both body and mind changed with the day. Understanding this requires going inside "the story." India provides many "stories," a new teacher, and much inner change.

In Sri Lanka, change continues to be the pilgrimage. The author becomes a Buddhist monk, the new path of life. And again, it is necessary for one to go inside the story to make sense of it, its meaning. Over time, the author thought Sri Lanka would be his permanent home. Far from it, however; reality is not based on thought. By that time, America was but a distant memory. As with Buddhist philosophy, change is the only constant.

The path opens as long as there is "surrender," the key. Later on, the author returned to India and revisited his Indian teacher; while there, he met a disciple who remembered him and who said, "Babaji, Jagadeesh is a Buddhist monk!" (The author was known as Jagadeesh in India.) Babaji answered, "God is one." No separation, end of discussion. Unseen in the author's future was meeting a Sufi saint. Not only did the path change, but the author ended up back in the U.S., where he now lives in the Joshua Tree area of the California high desert.