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Timed Writing Topic Out of the Bag:
"Post-Sadhana with Yogiji"
by Siri Ved Kaur Khalsa, 7/12/02
In the Spring of 1972 Guru Ram Das Ashram was moved from Robertson and Melrose in Los Angeles to its permanent home just three miles down Robertson, at 1620 Preuss Road. This move was just one of several significant changes made then. The new ashram had a curtained area for Siri Guru Granth Sahib, allowing the yoga class room to be transformed into a gurdwara. Gone were the psychedelic murals, all the pictures of new age teachers and saints such as St. Germaine, Satya Sai Baba, Baba Ram Dass… replaced by brightly colored paintings of the ten Sikh gurus (all painted by Diana Schnurr in a matter of weeks) hung evenly down the long walnut veneer-paneled wall of the ashram, reflected on the opposite wall by the marbleized mirrors that we'd brought down from the Melrose ashram. The new ashram lost the hippie charm of the old one, and instead emanated peace and a new formality. Many yoga students stopped coming to classes, uncomfortable with the shift of energy, or perhaps to seek that hippie charm elsewhere. Another change was that Guru Ram Das Ashram became the location for group sadhana every morning.
Sadhana started at 4:00 AM and was led daily by Guru Singh for the first few years. Men and women, a little sleepy even after their cold showers, wrapped in shawls and blankets, carrying sheepskins, babies, more blankets… quietly entering, settling down on the turquoise shag carpet, chanted together "Ong Namo Guru Dev Namo" …and so began sadhana.
One hour of yoga, one hour of meditation, and one hour of kirtan. How our voices would fill that room! The sound current from the mantras resonated from and deeply penetrated those holy walls. One morning while we were all chanting long Ek Ong Kar's, it felt like the whole world was chanting with us, it was so powerful, all so tuned in with each other, to the sound current. And in the middle of chanting, for no reason and without signal, after the short "siri", we collectively and abruptly stopped. We stopped cre- ating the sound current because we had become the sound
current and simply remained suspended in that space. The room buzzed with energy. After a minute or two of absolute breathless silence we all inhaled and continued the mantra with "Wha Guru" in perfect unison.
Sadhana became the highest point of our days. I would go to bed at night looking forward to getting up in the morning. I looked forward to doing yoga and sweating and feeling the rush of energy as I breathed in the nectar air. It was the one time each day that all of our community came together. There was no question about it, "personal sadhana" was pretty much unheard of. Sadhana was the center of our life.
The kirtan at the end was like the icing on an already scrumptious cake. In the earliest days we did not have gurdwara every morning. Instead we would sit in a big circle, sometimes so packed, we'd fill the inside of the circle too, and just sing and sing, both newly composed "3HO" songs and mantras, with guitars, shakers, drums… one young man even brought his harpsichord and dulcimer. And there we'd sit each day, with voices raised, hands clapping, and music pouring out the double doors.
Once in a while we would have an added blessing. Opening our eyes after meditation or during kirtan we would find that Yogiji had joined us, usually sitting or laying back on the carpet near the gurdwara curtains, dressed simply in white kachera, undershirt and huge brown shawl, with either an orange house turban or his hair down in a braid. And so, we gathered around him in a casual and cozy circle, still wrapped in our blankets with babies and small children waking up and peeking out from their wraps. Sometimes he would tell a story, or single out one or two people for his special sort of scrutiny. Or, he would take one person aside for a bit of personal counseling. The little ones might crawl over and sit on his lap. Meanwhile, someone from his household served soaked, peeled almonds and gunpowder tea, nice and sweet with milk and honey, to everyone as we sat with our teacher, listened to his words, and experienced the intimate blessing of the House of Guru Ram Das.
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