In Memorium: Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (1917 – 2008)
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi
The first time I met Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was in Malibu, on the beach. It was a typical summer day in Southern California. Not much was happening. There was a south swell. From time to time a sun worshiper atop a towel would flip over, a seagull would sail off into the fog, or a large set of waves would come crashing in. As I recall, I stood on the beach with my surfing buddies. We were probably all dressed in the surfer’s uniform of the era, corduroy pants and a white Penney’s t-shirt covered by a Pendelton, which would not have been worn tucked in. Unlike most surfers on most beaches that day, we each held in our hands a bouquet of flowers.
Suddenly some cars arrived. Doors were flung open. A cameraman emerged and some guys in suits. A brown, sandaled foot from within the car could be seen feeling for the ground, and then – bearded, and wearing a long, flowing, white dhoti – an Indian man stepped out onto the dirt road. He seemed enveloped in a nimbus of such serenity and light that, seeing him, the effect was similar to what one feels deep in a canyon before dawn when suddenly the sun bursts over the rim.
With the camera now trained on us – the surfer-boy extras in a documentary film – Maharishi approached, clearly enjoying the eternity in each step as he floated across the sand. As he drew near, something happened I was not at all prepared for. My soul began to swoon. In place of the crashing of the waves, which now seemed far in the distance, was an immensely beautiful sea of silent consciousness. It was, to put it mildly, simply adorable. Adrift in it, I could neither speak nor move. When Maharishi tugged on my flowers, I was unable to release my grip. He looked into my eyes, touched my hand gently, and my fingers opened.
It would be impossible to forget the blithe beauty of those eyes. He looked into each of ours, playfully. After accepting our flowers he looked out to sea, and then turning to us again and smiling like the happiest man on earth, he asked, “Are you enjoying the ocean?” Thus began my transcendental studies – lessons such as I had never known. The classroom was the Heart; the assignment was to locate the point within where the soul loses its boundaries and becomes absorbed in something infinite. Typically, by the time Maharishi arrived at his seat in any of the countless lecture halls where he spoke around the world, he would hug to his chest hundreds of flowers, each one gifted by a student greeting him on his way in. And in each one of those exchanges was a moment as spiritually transforming as the one I had known on the beach. Yet, Maharishi’s aim was not to establish a personality cult. Each flower he accepted in each lecture hall, he would place reverently before the image of his beloved teacher, Guru Dev, to whom he dedicated every instant of his life. And typically working 20-hour days, he tirelessly encouraged each of us to dive into the ocean of consciousness his Guru Dev embodied, by diving deep within our hearts during meditation.
Maharishi, in speaking of his teacher, always emphasized that the events in a spiritually illumined life are not so important. What is important is the state of his or her enlightenment, which radiates through each event. So, I will not list all of Maharishi’s many accomplishments throughout the world. Perhaps something of the level of presence he gave to each one can be felt through the few words I have written. “Are you enjoying the ocean?” Although those were the first words I heard him speak, throughout the years I have realized they contained his entire teaching. For Maharishi was absolutely certain of one fact: his soul was forever floating within
an ocean of unbounded bliss. He was well aware that the state of life he was living was achievable, and that anyone could live it.
James N. Powell is a writer/editor living in Santa Barbara, California; his next book, Slow Love: A Polynesian Pillowbook, will be released in June. For more information about Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, visit maharishi.org.
By James N. Powell
Felicia Tomasko has spent more of her life practicing Yoga and Ayurveda than not. She first became introduced to the teachings through the writings of the Transcendentalists, through meditation, and using asana to cross-train for her practice of cross-country running. Between beginning her commitment to Yoga and Ayurveda and today, she earned degrees in environmental biology and anthropology and nursing, and certifications in the practice and teaching of yoga, yoga therapy, and Ayurveda while working in fields including cognitive neuroscience and plant biochemistry. Her commitment to writing is at least as long as her commitment to yoga. Working on everything related to the written word from newspapers to magazines to websites to books, Felicia has been writing and editing professionally since college. In order to feel like a teenager again, Felicia has pulled out her running shoes for regular interval sessions throughout Southern California. Since the very first issue of LA YOGA, Felicia has been part of the team and the growth and development of the Bliss Network.