excerpt from Chapter 16: "Monkey Business"

Only a few hours earlier, I had been waist-deep in a small pond in front of the ashram. It had been a perfect morning, and the sunlight softly caressed the treetops as it streamed downward into the chilly water, bursting into a thousand sparkling diamonds dancing joyfully around me. I closed my eyes as we began to repeat one mala of the Gayati mantra. Then we began repeating the Hamsa Gaytri Mantra, the one we had just received from Swamiji. I focused on the meaning of each word. This beautiful hymn celebrated my relationship with the divine, and it felt like I had been chanting it for lifetimes. The air became saturated with these deep melodic sounds, and my voice slowly became indistinguishable from the others. After one hundred eight repetitions our voices fell silent, and we stood there listening to nothing more than the sound of the wind. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt a shiver go through my body.

Our silence was broken by Swamiji’s voice signaling the start of the ceremony, and I opened my eyes to see the smiling face of a large frog. It floated lazily in front of me with its legs spread apart, and I imagined it must be curious as to why such a large group of uninvited guests were joining it for its morning swim. It began circling my body, inspecting my saffron robe as they floated weightlessly in the water.

It was Guru Purnima, an auspicious time in the Hindu calendar, and for the past three days I had been completely immersed in an ancient ritual that had never before been performed in North America. I had been invited along with twenty-five other men and women to participate in this sacred ceremony, and our days were filled with meditation, fasting, chanting, and prayer. We needed only a few hours of sleep each night, and every waking minute was spent preparing for the moment now at hand. The day before we took turns shaving one another’s heads, leaving only a miniature ponytail hanging from the back. It was a solemn ritual, and our collective baldness virtually obliterated the difference between the men and the women. We now anxiously waited for our guru to remove the remaining lock.

Swamiji spoke, “With this final cut, your personal lives are surrendered to God. The focus of your actions will shift from serving yourself to serving humanity, and all outward acts will be directed with this goal in mind. Selfless action deepens the inward journey until the last vestiges of the selfish ego dissolve forever.”

With this invitation Steve stepped forward, and I watched as each person capitulated to the snip of our teacher’s scissors. My turn finally came and I stood ready in front of him, bowing my head reverently, awaiting the final release. Gazing downwards, I saw that my friendly frog was still with me.

“Do you accept the vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience?”

I bowed my head and answered, “I do.”

I felt a tug on my hair, followed by the sound of the scissors. I was twenty-six years old and had just committed the remainder of my life to the service of humankind and renunciation of worldly desires. The frog swam away and I smiled a fond farewell, concluding that its presence was an promising sign.

Gary with his fellow monks in 1975