My conscious inner journey began at the age of sixteen. In the summer of 1989, my entire psychic nature was deeply shaken, and my attention naturally shifted from the outer world toward inner knowing. Nothing unusual happened externally that could have caused stress. Life followed its ordinary course—I was studying at school and actively engaged in sports, fully devoted to training and competition. And yet, seemingly on level ground, a profound spiritual upheaval and inner transformation took place. No one influenced me, and there was no one with whom I could speak about such matters. Still, for almost a year, I practiced yoga guided by a single good book.
When a chick feels that it is time to hatch from the egg, it can no longer wait. The time has come, and nothing can stop the inevitable. It was the same with me. The time had come, and a sankalpa from the past began to strike from within, beating against the shell of my worldview.
The experience was total. I set out in search of the meaning of existence, in search of God, and in search of Myself. I began separating the essential from the nonessential, and eventually came to understand that nothing could be more important than the Lord. For the Lord is the culmination of all our searches and the destination of all our paths. I still had to discover who the Lord truly was and who “I” truly was, but the direction had been chosen, and the arrow of intention was drawn.
Sankalpa, prarabdha karma, and the invisible presence of something—or someone—began to pave the way before me. The results did not take long to appear. The effort was proportional to the outcome, yet this was not the effort of an athlete accustomed to endurance, but the urgency of someone who could no longer wait for what had belonged to him from the very beginning.
The search for truth is always accompanied by the cutting away of the superfluous—everything that is not truth. One of the greatest obstacles on the seeker’s path is the proud mind and the ego of the seeker himself. And the unseen yet palpable presence of a spiritual teacher gently untangles the knots woven by the subtle and cunning mind.
I remember how, in special moments of my life, I would gaze at the setting sun and feel a deep connection with the Guru, with teachers I did not know personally, yet sensed inwardly. At times, a Guru appeared in my dreams. I never saw his face—only symbolic images. And once, something truly happened in a dream.