Let’s see, it must have been sometime early in 1999 that I first “met” Swami Kriyananda.
My very time at an Ananda event was Shivaratri in February 1998, after which I attended a few Sunday services, then started taking a meditation class in May. Within a few months I knew Yogananda was my guru, and I took discipleship in November 1998.
However, Swami Kriyananda was a mystery person to me. Given his Indian name, I was surprised to learn that he was an American. Everyone spoke of him with great love and respect but living in Italy at the time, he wasn’t around for me to gain my own impression.
Not surprisingly, the music of Ananda made a real impression on me right from the start; as I was getting more involved I felt to tune into it more deeply. I had picked up a free “sampler” cassette tape with a selection of musical pieces on it and decided to listen to it while working on an art project.
There was quite a variety — in style, instrumentation, size of group — but then there were a number of solos in a male voice that I guessed must be this Swami Kriyananda guy. It’s a little embarrassing to confess that my professional musician ears were in critique mode as I listened, wondering if his being the founder was the reason he got to sing the solos (boy, was I clueless!).
Then the song “Love Is a Magician” started. It has a slightly jazzy electric piano intro, to which I had a rather cynical and condescending response, but once Swami began singing the words I immediately burst into tears and sobbed throughout the entire song.
It was as though the loving power of his consciousness was an arrow that bypassed my mental processes to directly pierce me right in the center of my heart. In that moment I knew Swami Kriyananda was the truest and deepest of friends, and that I could trust him with my life.
Which was, and still is, the truth.
Beautiful Bhagavati