My notion of a spiritual life was full of myths – those everyday ideas of what must occur to me and what way; what I must feel and think; what I must want and what choose… The content of those myths was being formed under the influence of the books read, of the lecture heard, of the stories and impressions of my acquaintances, and under the influence of a multitude of diversified and sometimes opposite explanations. Stiff myths fettered my notion about the Spiritual Master – who he is, what he gives, how the meeting with him is going and what he means in man’s life.
When it happened in my life – I met the Spiritual Master – there began to occur the things I expected the least of all: the myths that fettered me began melting and vanish. I “knew” very well that Spiritual Masters are old bearded sages. It appeared – not for certain. I also “knew” that one must long search for him, wander over faraway countries, to overpass the mountains and to cross the deserts. And the farther the countries, the higher the mountains, the more (one should think) hope that the Master will be “much more authentic”… It turns out – NOT!
The love proves to have no age, and the true knowledge appears not to have definite image… The real journey turns out to be measured not by kilometers, and true endeavours are manifested not only in ascending to mountains or crossing the deserts, but in diligent and honest performing of one’s daily duties….