MANY HANDS MAKE A MIRACLE

DEDICATION

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DEDICATION

To Paramhansa Yogananda for his vision,

To Swami Kriyananda for his dedication,

And to all the past, present and future members of Ananda,

Who help make the dream a reality.

INTRODUCTION

The 1960’s saw much expansion in American society, as well as much upheaval. There were race riots and anti-war demonstrations, and the assassinations of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King; there was a significant increase of self-exploration and looking beyond self-imposed limitations.

Young people traveled widely, often living with host families and experiencing new cultures first hand. Many people joined the Peace Corps and spent two years in developing countries, or joined VISTA, a similar program in the U.S.

At the same time, Eastern religion was enjoying a new interest. Yogananda’s classic, Autobiography of a Yogi, became assigned reading in college philosophy courses, which indicates a major shift from traditional higher education.

People were beginning to look both inward through meditation and self study and outward through ways to serve.

The environmental movement gained momentum. More and more people read Thoreau, Whitman and Emerson and began to look to nature for enjoyment and fulfillment.
The idea of working cooperatively began to gain credence and the concept of teamwork and community began to develop.

Boundaries were dissolving as never before; in 1969 Americans landed on the moon.
It was toward the end of this decade that Ananda community began, supported by and reflecting the energy and expansiveness of the time.

I hope you will find this book inspiring, informative and entertaining, as we share the ideals, dreams and struggles of the spiritual community called Ananda, how it grew from the vision of one man, his guru and a handful of idealistic young people to a way of life which is now followed by devotees worldwide.

Chapter I: THE DREAM

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Paramhansa Yogananda, c. 1952

In a 1996 interview, Swami Kriyananda stated, “When I was

15, World War II was beginning to get underway. I thought I

could envision a time when civilization would be dealt a very

serious blow. If we could have a community of people that

would preserve the values of civilization, it would be the

means by which civilization could build again in the future. I

saw a community with engineers, doctors and people of all modern skills, who could bring those

skills back. Today I think civilization is going to desperately need communities like this, not so

much to preserve skills such as engineering, but rather to preserve spiritual values. When you have

people scattered, it’s very hard to uphold spiritual values. Seeing one person who is calm, for

example, is not going to draw people, but seeing a community of people who are calm, you have to

say that it’s what they are doing that makes them that way.”

During Paramhansa Yogananda’s lifetime, he often talked about “World Brotherhood Colonies”

and said, “Thousands of youths must go North, South, East, and West to spread these ideas. I am

sowing these thoughts in the ether, and my words shall not die!”1

As a young disciple of Yogananda, Kriyananda was thrilled and inspired by this idea and vowed to

help his guru make these communities a reality. After Yogananda’s passing in 1952, Kriyananda

made several fruitless attempts to interest others in his guru’s organization in the idea of World

Brotherhood Colonies. However, during this decade Swami Kriyananda saw much upheaval in his

own life as well. He was forced to leave the organization, Self-Realization Fellowship, and spent a

good deal of time searching for a way to continue serving his guru. (See the books, Faith is My

Armor, and A Place Called Ananda.) In 1966, he began teaching classes in yoga and meditation

at the Cultural Integration Fellowship in San Francisco. He gave several

training seminars on Indian culture to Peace Corps volunteers and also had a

radio show on two local radio stations. One of his first meditation students

was Jyotish (John Novak), who became his secretary and later a teacher of

meditation, himself.

Jyotish, c. 1969

Chapter II: THE FOUNDATION

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Kriyananda’s classes proved popular and were attended by many students, including Seva (Sonia Wiberg). As interest grew in Yogananda’s teachings, students began taking more advanced classes and continued to attend meditations and yoga sessions after their classes were completed. In 1967, Kriyananda and some of his students formed the Yoga Fellowship, a group of people dedicated to the dissemination of the teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda.On Dec 18, 1968, the Yoga Fellowship was formally incorporated, “to teach and promote the practice of yoga”. In early 1967 Kriyananda began looking for property to use as a place of seclusion for himself. He was referred to Dick Baker, the roshi of the San Francisco Zen Center, who was also seeking land; through a fortuitous accident, he met the roshi at a picture framing shop. Ultimately, he purchased 72 acres of property in the Sierra Foothills, as part of the Bald Mountain Association, which consisted of the poets Gary Snyder and Alan Ginsburg along with Roshi Baker and Kriyananda. (See A Place Called Ananda, Ch 25.)
Kriyananda’s original intent was to use the property as a hermitage for himself, and that September several of his students volunteered to help him build a plastic dome as his first home. When it had collapsed or been blown down three times, he came to understand that beginning with a home for himself wasn’t the right way to go about it; rather they should focus on a temple for everyone.
A few hardy souls spent the winter at the Meditation Retreat in tents. Satya (Bill Cox), and Binay (John Preston) spent the entire winter there; David Hoogendyk stayed for part of it. Binay recalls that they often visited a friend, Rena Kemp, at her house in Nevada City, to use her shower and get warm.
Cooperative Communities
In the early spring of 1968, Kriyananda began holding meetings to discuss developing a community. The first of these meetings proved to be a disaster, as those present had no understanding of what he was trying to accomplish, and accused him of trickery and a self-serving attitude. This experience showed him the necessity of putting his ideas into concrete form before people could begin to understand the concept and he spent a week on his new property writing Cooperative Communities, How to Start them and Why, which was then typeset by Seva.
Eventually a core of more committed people began to attend these informal gatherings. Of all ages, they were interested in putting the ideals of cooperative spiritual living into practice. One of them, Jaya (John Helin), had attended Kriyananda’s classes and meetings after hearing his radio show. Referring to those meetings, he says, “It was a little intimidating because I was a young college student, and the people at the meetings were older and seemingly very engaged in the idea of a community. They knew a lot more about it than I did. I had no ideas of my own about community, and although I thought it was a good thing to do, I said very little. Well, as it turned out, none of those people actually moved to the property but I did.”
Those who did eventually move to Ananda in those early days were, with rare exceptions, young and idealistic. Many were recent college graduates, looking for ways to serve. Most were single, although within a year families began to come, as well.

Chapter III: A Beginning

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In the spring of 1968, construction began on 2 pre-fabricated domes and a bath house. Kriyananda had learned his lesson about do-it-yourself construction and hired a contractor to complete the domes. Unfortunately, this was not quite the solution. When Kriyananda had to postpone payment, the contractor walked off the job before finishing it. Several of Kriyananda’s students visited the retreat throughout the summer, camping in the woods, and some of them later helped to complete the structures. Early that spring foreclosure on the property was threatened, but Kriyananda received a last minute donation from Tom Hopkins which turned out to be just enough to pay the debt. Later he received a loan from Seva which helped him to continue construction.

During the next winter of 1968-69, several stayed on the Ananda property: Satya, Binay, Thom Dunks, Tom Hopkins, Will Matchett and Joel (last name unknown). Tom, Thom and Joel built very small cabins with no running water or electricity, while Satya stayed in the unfinished office dome. (Of these small cabins, only Joel’s remains today, the others have been lost by fire.) In the spring, Tom Hopkins and others completed the unfinished domes and bath house, making them ready for guest retreats.

Thus, in May of 1969, the first retreat season began. Kriyananda moved to the Retreat and began hosting weekend retreats, offering group meditations, yoga postures, and classes nearly single-handedly. Several more young people arrived at this time and formed the first retreat staff: cooking, cleaning, and making beds in exchange for room and board. Some of them were: Jaya, Binay, Sadhana Devi, Shivani, Ray and Burma Harilla, Gopaldas, Tom Hopkins, Don Rose, John Lazzarini, Oleta Burger, and Satya.

The greater the will, the greater the flow of energy

Kriyananda continued to lead nearly all the programs throughout the summer. In the mornings, he and others would awaken the guests with a strolling kirtan (group chanting). After morning sadhana (Energization Exercises and meditation), and breakfast in silence, Kriyananda gave a 2 hour class. This was followed by lunch with Kriyananda, the staff, and guests; then perhaps a gathering at his home, a trip to the river, or other informal activity. In late afternoon everyone returned to the temple for yoga postures and meditation, often with Satya instructing. In the evening, Kriyananda sometimes showed slides of his travels, especially to India, or sang some of his songs for the guests and staff. Weekends culminated in a worship service on Sunday morning; one of the highlights being the Indian fire purification ceremony that Kriyananda conducted prior to the service. During the week, Kriyananda spent most of his time working on his yoga correspondence course, eventually expanded and now titled The Art and Science of Raja Yoga.

At the end of the 1969 season, we held our first annual Spiritual Renewal Week – seven days of classes, kirtans, satsangs and concerts, culminating with the first Kriya Initiation at the Retreat. The Spiritual Renewal Week tradition continues today at the Expanding Light, now conducted by the staff and other Ananda instructors.

In 1970, Kriyananda continued to give all the classes on retreat weekends, traveling back to the Bay Area to teach yoga and meditation during the week. Now that many of us are leading retreats ourselves, we can more fully appreciate the amount of energy Swami was putting out during this period of intense activity.

Ananda Farm/Village

A few months after the first retreat season began, a few families arrived at the Meditation Retreat, and it quickly became clear that the quiet, hermitage vibration would soon be overpowered by the voices of energetic children playing.

Ray and Burma Harrilla and their daughter, Sisi, were the first family at Ananda. Burma, who now lives in nearby Grass Valley, recalls, “We were drawn to the Ananda Meditation Retreat after Ray took yoga classes from Swami Kriyananda in San Francisco. We moved to the retreat in an old school bus on April 1, 1969. We were the first family and I was the first woman to live there. The men were finishing the two large common domes; when these were ready, I cooked three meals a day for the weekend retreats, sometimes for as many as 50 people. We also worked on building wooden tent platforms so that campers could set their tents up on them, instead of the ground. It was beautiful and peaceful, but a little lonely for a precocious child of 3 1/2 and a young mother. We looked forward to other families coming. Later, in early summer, a large piece of property was purchased by Ananda that was nearby. We called it “The Farm”. We moved there and shortly after that, families began to come.”

The new property was just six miles away, an abandoned farm of 235 acres. Like most property acquired by Ananda through the years, this property was a “fixer”. On the property was a marginally habitable farm house, a barn of dubious sturdiness, and several chicken coops and other outbuildings. The property, however, was beautiful, a combination of forest and meadowlands, with hills, valleys and ponds. Money for the down payment on the property was lent or donated by students and friends who were enthusiastic about the project, and the papers were signed July 4, 1969.² Soon afterward, the families moved from the Meditation Retreat to the new land, called Ananda Farm; after that many people began coming.

Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God

What kind of people were we who came in the first years? Pioneers, perhaps, but of a different type. We were seeking Oneness, a transcendent experience, God communion. Some of us had been exposed to Eastern philosophy in college. We were voracious readers, absorbing everything we could find that promised a direct experience of God. We were seeking challenges and an opportunity to test our will through hard work. And, we wanted to do something that served society. Yogananda’s and Kriyananda’s vision of cooperative communities as places for people to seek God promised an opportunity to fulfill all these goals. The idea was ready to be manifested in material reality, and Kriyananda could be thought of as the architect of Yogananda’s vision. We were the builders, putting his ideals into physical form.

I had left behind a secure but confining job and found that Ananda was a place of adventure -- a place where I could learn a new way of life, challenge myself, and do something that could make the world better. It was the first place that I had been where I could really experiment. In fact, Ananda community was an experiment –- an experiment in living cooperatively, in living a life of high ideals. Creativity was not only accepted, it was encouraged. Although we had very little money, we managed to find enough to get by, and to finance our experiments. Those of us who were single were able to live very simply; in fact, many of us lived in tepees for the first years. In a way, it was a rite of passage.”

At the same time there was a darker element testing the fledgling community. One of the few rules from Ananda’s inception was No Drug Use, within the community or anywhere else. It seemed as though nearly every young person at that time had tried smoking marijuana; and many had tried hallucinogenics as well. Those who wanted to leave drug use behind faced a real challenge in finding like-minded people. Ananda faced a constant battle between those who wanted to continue drug use and those who wanted to cease. A growing core of people, committed to the spiritual path, helped the community to overcome this test and emerge stronger for it. This core magnetized others like them, and those who insisted on the continued use of drugs eventually left; nearly all of their own accord.

One might wonder how the community succeeded through such a time of chaos, as most communities of this type failed early on. That core of dedicated people was willing to sacrifice to help the community succeed. They were spiritually committed to the path of Kriya Yoga; some of them were part of the original Yoga Fellowship, others had joined later. Although there were also some who lacked direction and were vulnerable to negative energy, even these people were idealistic. People wanted to do something good.

Chapter V: Plain Living and High Thinking

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A Spirit of Adventure: Nalini Graeber

"Joy was, and still is, the main attraction for those of us who live at Ananda. However, for those of who lived here in the early 70's, the joy we felt was sommetimes in spite of, rather than because of, the physical plane! Each day we were finding opportunities to challenge ourselves.

In Jan 1971, in a spirit of adventure, I moved to the Meditation Retreat, where there were three feet of snow on the ground. I was eager to learn about Yogananda’s concept of “plain living and high thinking,” but nothing in my background had prepared me for what I was about to experience. I moved into a tepee so small that I could stand up only in the middle of it. I rarely did so, however, because in the middle we had dug a three foot hole in which to put the kerosene heater, my only source of heat. Since sleeping, reading and meditating were my main activities there, it was workable. Most of my meals were taken in the common dome, and I took my showers, theoretically at least, in the community bath house. There was one shower for the women and one for the men. If one was lucky, someone else was just leaving. This meant that not only was the shower available, but also that the small room would be pre-warmed and the propane light would be on. Otherwise, early or late in the day, one would fumble in the dark, hoping to light the lamp and the old-fashioned propane heater –- without setting the place on fire! I remember on a few occasions calling my mother who lived in the Bay Area, 3 or 4 hours away. ‘Hey Mom, I’m coming for a visit,’ I’d say. (My ulterior motive was the desperate need to wash my hair and take a decent shower!)

Many years later when my husband Gary and I got together, he wanted to take me camping. He couldn’t understand my lack of enthusiasm at the prospect until he had spent some time at the Meditation Retreat. Then he commented, ‘Now I understand your resistance –- you spent several years camping in those early days!’ Now that I live in a “normal” house my taste for camping has returned. As Ananda has developed more on the physical plane, the tests have moved to the mental and emotional spheres. Still, the all-pervading joy and love for God that permeates this place is what makes it all worthwhile."

Solitude: Jaya Helin

“In the fall of 1969, Kriyananda had asked Satya and me to remain at the retreat for the winter in order to keep an eye on things while others went to San Francisco to work. Shivani, and Gurupod (Chuck Slavonic) also stayed in seclusion there.

"We hardly saw anyone at the Retreat from Thanksgiving until March. During that winter, we fell into a routine, all in silence. The kitchen had supplies left over after the retreat season - wheat berries, rolled oats, rye seeds and powdered milk, plus many quarts of canned berries. About twice a week, Shivani would make yoghurt, and I would make bread. We'd put it out then scrounge out of the condiment section whatever was left on the shelves. We went through the winter on bread, yoghurt, canned blackberries and sprouted beans. Near the end of the winter, I was getting really tired of this diet, and was complaining about the food (in silence!)

"I had been reading the book, Saints that Moved the World, by Rene Fulop-Miller, and I especially liked the story about St. Antony and the raven that brought St Peter, another hermit, a loaf of bread each day. One day I went into the common room and found a big block of cheese sitting right in the middle of the table! It was wonderful and we had quite a feast. No one ever knew how it came to be there.”

“Future Saints Club”: Haridas Blake

“Binay and I came up with the “Future Saints Club”. We had this idea that all of us were potential saints and that if we would organize a little bit, maybe that would help to accelerate our spiritual progress. So we made affirmation cards and some other things to help remind us of the teachings. It picked up steam, and went for six months or a year. It was just another way to bring us together.”

Haanel Cassidy 1903-1979: by Anandi Cornell

"Many people who came to Ananda in the early years had previously had very unique and interesting life experiences. Haanel Cassidy was invited by Kriyananda to move to Ananda for his retirement.

"One of my goals when I moved to Ananda was to learn organic gardening. This turned out to be a wonderful experience, primarily because of our head gardener, Haanel Cassidy. Haanel was a unique individual who taught us gardening and much more. He had grown up in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, and began gardening as a child. Later, he moved to Japan, where he taught English and also taught himself to become an accomplished photographer. He then moved to New York City, and became an advertising photographer for Conde Naste magazines, doing very slick color photography. (His true love, however, was the subtlety of black and white photography.) While in New York City, he also developed his voice and learned quite a repertoire of music, including many Negro spirituals and Winnie the Pooh songs. He was known as ‘Cassidy the Waltz King,’ for his ballroom dancing skills.

"I believe Haanel discovered the Autobiography of a Yogi in 1952, the year Yogananda died. He became a devoted disciple and decided to move to Chile so that he could devote himself to a life of secluded meditation. The climate and general conditions in Chile, however, proved so harsh that he then moved to Southern California, where he supported himself by growing and selling organic vegetables.

"In the 1960s he met Swami Kriyananda who told him about the community that he was forming dedicated to Yogananda. At this point, Haanel was about 65 years old, and Swami invited him to live at Ananda and to enjoy a period of meditation in retirement.
“He was not only our teacher and leader, but he also became our friend, inviting us over for a hot cup of Pero (a cereal beverage) or dinner. Anything Haanel produced had a careful beauty and elegance to it, even his spaghetti dinner. In his spare time, he offered to meditate with us, and to give us singing, calligraphy, or elocution lessons.

"Along with another fellow gardener I had the great blessing of being with Haanel when he left his body in 1980. Pancreatic cancer took him quickly. He chose to meet his illness and his passing in his bedroom sanctuary at home. He told me that he felt Master’s grace pouring over him as he lay in bed; he was fully conscious as he left this world.”

Wild Animals: Sadhana Devi Helin

“Satya’s son, Monty Cox, was an animal trainer for the entertainment industry. He had trained several well-known animal entertainers, including Gentle Ben of television fame. One day, I left the temple after afternoon sadhana and noticed huge cat-paw prints in the dust outside. Just then, I heard someone say, ‘Hey, I saw a lion walk by!’ We all ran in the direction of the footprints (no one remembers being afraid!), and we found Satya, his son Monty, and a beautiful lion named Major. Major spent a day or two inside our fenced garden, the only place we had that could accommodate him. It was quite an experience to actually “pet” a cat of that size (through the fence!) Monty warned us to ‘pet firmly’, as a light touch would be mistaken for flies, and the lion would bat us away, resulting in pain for us! Even a trained lion isn’t a “tame” one”.

Ananda Meditation Retreat: The Heart of Ananda

Long after its population was outstripped by that of the Farm, the meditation retreat remained the spiritual heart of the community. Each Sunday people would car pool and drive up from the Farm to the Retreat for Sunday service, staying afterward for lunch together. Group sadhana (spiritual practice) was offered every morning and evening, marriages and baptisms were performed, and of course, guest retreats wee held there year round. In addition, the retreat served as a meeting place for the community, and it remained Swami's home until 1971. Its kitchen was the only one of any size in the community, which made it the obvious location for holiday celebrations.

Asha Praver arrived in 1971, one day after the previous kitchen manager had left. Showing some polite interest, and offering to help cook lunch, she was immediately drafted as the new kitchen manager! She served in that capacity for a few years, producing three meals a day for guests, plus Indian dinners for up to 100 people, with the help of Lakshmi Selbie, Seva Wiberg and other volunteers. Later, she became Swami’s secretary, and moved to the monastery at Ayodhya. Asha, along with her husband, David Praver, is now spiritual director of the Ananda Palo Alto Community.

On July 3, 1970, the first retreat temple burned down. Whether this was caused by carelessness or by arson may never be known. By the time the fire department arrived the building was fully engaged, and burned to the ground. It was a great loss, but everyone was inspired by Kriyananda’s cheerful attitude of surrender to the Divine Plan. In Money Magnetism, he says,

"I sat in prayer after this conflagration, and told God, "This was Your temple, Lord, not mine. I gat it to You when I first built it. I've lost , because I had nothing to lose.

"Suddenly I felt overwhelmed from within with a joy so great, I could hardly bear it. 'Lord', I then prayers, 'if the destruction of a mere temple can bing me so much joy, You should have taken all my other possessions too!"

"I recall entering a shop later that day. I was singing. The shopkeeper, who had heard of our loss, exclaimed, 'You're singing! When our shop burned down several years ago, I cried for one year!'

"Well, I answered, 'I've lost a building, but I haven't lost my voice!'

"The truth was, I felt like singing. God's joy within made everything else seem unimportant.

"Indeed, if one gift can bring blessings, is he not wise who gives everything to God?"

Construction was quickly begun on a new and larger temple and it was dedicated twice – once by Swami Muktananda in Oct 1970, then again in November of the same year. Early in 1971 we began using it for Sunday services, classes and gatherings during the week, and plays, holiday activites and Swami’s birthday celebrations.

One of the plays performed in the new temple was The Jewel in the Lotus, which Kriyananda had written in 1970. Kalyani (Marsha Todd) also performed Kriyananda’s music there and at other venues. These performances were popular enough to be performed at two other locations locally, as well as in Reno, Nevada and Los Angeles, and at the Davis Whole Earth Festival.

From time to time swamis and spiritual leaders from other ashrams and other spiritual paths visited us at the Meditation Retreat. One of the first was Swami Chidananda from the Divine Life Society. Chidananda embodied the concept of inner stillness by his deeply calm and joyful demeanor. When he visited the Farm he noted the debris left by the former property owner (and, yes, a little junk of our own, as well!) He advised us to clean it up, noting that allowing this debris to stay would attract lower astral energies. We’ve remembered that comment and have tried to follow his advice ever since. Other spiritual leaders who visited included Swami Muktananda (mentioned above), Sant Keshavdas, Amar Jyoti, Indra Devi, Roy Eugene Davis, and Norman Paulsen. From the Divine Life Society came Swamis Chidananda, Satchidananda, Venkateshananda, Hridayananda, and Vishnudevananda.

VI Working for God

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As the core of committed people grew, it became easier to work toward common goals. Our next challenge was to find ways to provide employment for members so they could support themselves. This was especially difficult in Nevada County, where few opportunities were available as the general area had been in economic decline for some years.retreat. Kriyananda supported the community that first year through his service at the retreat (he was the “draw”), and by paying the mortgage directly that first winter. In order to have a steady income to pay the bills we instituted monthly dues of $35 for single people, or $50 for couples. It was clear that we needed to find a way to bring in income from outside the area so that people could pay the dues, create homes and live in the community.

In 1969 virtually the only source of income was the guest retreat. In 1970, others began to participate through dues and fees and membership payments.
Each person was responsible for his or her share. This was an important step, but equally so was the fact that people used initiative to find mechanisms for generating the means by which income could be earned by residents. Without this, people could not have lived at the Village unless they had private means, and few did. (If they were affluent enough not to work, they probably wouldn’t have been interested in living in such a primitive situation!) This building of businesses through individual energy was a foundation block for the community as it stressed attitudes of personal initiative and responsibility. An important point is that all the businesses were started by individuals, not by “the community.” Many of these businesses were later taken over by the community but the original impetus was from one or two individuals. This was one of Ananda’s defining qualities.
After the tepee work project was completed in the fall of 1969, several went to San Francisco to find jobs for the winter. A small Ananda Ashram had been started by friends on Bush Street, and several Ananda members lived there while they worked in the city -- Tom Sutliff, Binay, Sadhana Devi, and Mary Boone. Others, including Jyotish and Binay, started small cottage industries and brought them to Ananda in the spring. Jyotish spent the winter learning how to make incense, and created Ananda Village Products which later expanded to include essential oils and macramé plant hangers as well as the incense. Swami (Kriyananda) started a printing business in the original farm house, calling it Ananda Publications. A suitcase manufacturing business began in the barn, manufacturing foot lockers. Nakula made Kali Oats, a granola-type cereal; he also invented a machine to toast the oats. One ill fated summer project was the blackberry picking business. For a few weeks several people picked the wild blackberries growing on the property, and a visitor offered to deliver the blackberries to health food stores in Sacramento. We never saw him again, or the money from the blackberries. Perhaps he ate them all!
By the end of 1970 we had nearly ten businesses. Some of them were begun by Swami, such as the Retreat and publishing business; the others were created by other members. As always, Swami encouraged creativity and superconscious thinking. Creating these businesses was an important activity that consumed much energy and attention in the early years and throughout the rest of the decade. Some succeeded while others were short lived, but the businesses were able to employ many of the people living at the Farm, and even to hire a few people from outside the community
Ananda Products: Sadhana Devi
"When Jyotish returned from San Francisco where he had learned to make incense, he started a business in one of our chicken coops behind the farm house. Several of us joined him and began production. Making incense turned out to be quite a process. The first step required us to dismantle bamboo shades so that we could use the bamboo as the incense sticks. Then the sticks were cut to the appropriate size. While the dismantling was going on Bimal was making up a batch of sticky stuff to spread on the sticks to hold the scent. It looked a lot like tar and was extremely messy. This goo needed to be mixed with some type of mechanical mixer. After we tried using a mixer from the kitchen but immediately broke it, Jyotish invented a more sturdy mixer which seeemd to work pretty well if we didn't mind splatters of black goo on the walls, floor and of course, Bimal. We tried dipping the sticks in the goo one by one but soon realized we would never finish at that rate, and so we created racks which would hold 6o or more sticks which could be dipped all at once. Bimal then had the unenviable task of dipping the sticks in the goo. This took several dips, with overnight drying time in between. The last dip was the scent dip. When this dried we finally had a finished product ready for packaging. Our bamboo-curtain-dismantling-crew then made an assembly line and packaged and labeled the incense, ready for distribution.
Later we found that we could also sell the scented oils as essential oils, so our crew bottled the oils in a similar assembly line fashion.
The incense business grew and thrived over the years, eventually expanding also into making macrame hangers for potted plants. Since then, several Ananda members have owned the business, until it was finally sold to friends of Ananda. "
Ananda Products: Haridas Blake
“Early industries were always fun because Jyotish had the incense business, and Binay and I had started a jewelry making business. We were always having a friendly competition, and we tried to beat him in sales each month, but we never did. When we thought we were getting close, he added essential oils to the products, and we were finished! The essential oils sol d like hot cakes. There was no way we were going to keep up in sales.
"I didn’t understand why at first, but there was a lot of appreciation for our products. Finally I realized that it was the vibration that people were responding to. I finally “got it” when a new person came onto this spiritual path because he was introduced through our products.”
The Ananda Candy Business – Anandi Cornell
“Everyone who came to Ananda had to find some way to create an income. At that time (1971) there were almost no health food candies on the market and when I arrived, my friend Fern (now Shivani) and two other women were starting such a business, using only healthy ingredients. The four of us developed four recipes: Aum bars (dried fruits, carob, coconut, and nuts); Deva Delights and Bhagavan Bars (made with peanut butter, honey, and milk powder); and Moksha Mints (made with walnut butter, milk powder, honey, and mint).
"At first we made our candies in the Retreat kitchen, but we eagerly awaited a crafts building that was being built in the meadow below the Retreat. After the foundation, floor, and rafters of this building were completed, it was discovered that the building wasn’t really on our property and had to be scheduled for demolition!
"We were, however, able to use the building for a year or so before the law caught up with us and we were required to dismantle it. The building was always cold since we rarely could get the wood stove working, so we wore our hiking boots and down jackets as we worked. Nakula, who had a granola business, took our candies around California and sold them. Mostly we each lived off of whatever savings we had. I remember being quite pleased at earning $90 one month, and that was more than usual.
After two years, we sold the business to another Ananda member, and all of us got other jobs.”
Master’s Market – Its beginnings: Parvati (Cynthia) Hansen
“The idea of having a market at the Village evolved, as most things do, out of the very basic need to provide easily available food for a growing community of people. At the time I arrived at Ananda in the summer of 1972, the residents had few cars, meaning that any trip to ‘town’ was a big occasion. Even so the community itself was bustling with energy and activity, with around 100 residents in total at that time.
"The old farmhouse, which still stands in the center of downtown Ananda today, had originally been used as a place for group meals. After this, it became the print shop, but by the fall of 1972 the print shop had moved up to the newly completed Publications building, leaving this area of the farmhouse vacant. There were a number of discussions about what it could be used for but no decisions were made at the time.
"At the same time that this discussion was happening, another need was becoming very apparent. People, needing to buy food, began buying it from the Meditation Retreat kitchen. Asha, who was in charge of the kitchen at the time, did the best she could to accommodate them. But once the door was opened, the obvious need for food to be available in the community became overwhelming.
"Swami kept saying to us in almost every satsang that we had with him, ‘If you see something that needs to be done here, then do it!’ In other words, he was letting us know, right from the beginning, that we were the ones who were going to make this community a reality. He was also teaching us by his own dynamic example of energy and magnetism how to use the principles that Master had emphasized. I had the great opportunity to learn about both of these principles in a very dynamic way through developing Master’s Market.
"To begin with, I had no money to start such a project. I don’t remember thinking of this as much of an obstacle at the time. I thought that at least I could manage to buy a couple of boxes of fruit each month to get things started. Although my own understanding was limited as to how all this would unfold, Divine Mother was there to help me each step of the way. Just a few months after I began this project, in the spring of 1973, a young man showed up at the Farm who was very interested in helping to make the market a reality. He had the amazing amount of $500 which he offered to put into the market funds.
"This was a huge boon at the time and quickly catapulted the market out of the small room it had started in and into several downstairs rooms of the farmhouse. We bought a number of items and built shelves to put them on. For Master’s Market, the name which we gave it at that time, was beginning to supply a need for the residents of Ananda which they were becoming more aware.
In the ensuing years the market grew rapidly and became not only a place to buy food but also a community center where people could see each other. Through the market, we did many things in those years to provide as much service to community members as possible. Among other things, the market had a deli with prepared foods for lunches, it became an outlet for the Ananda dairy; it showed movies on the lawn to raise money for an Ananda school movie projector; it brought crates of fruit up from the Sacramento valley for canning; and it provided a way for people to order foods in bulk. But mainly, the Market helped people to feel that the community itself was, little by little, becoming a reality.”
Learning Experiences
"Another idea for earning income took the form of work crews. One of these was planting trees for the US Forest Service, which was renewing tree plantations that had been logged.
“Happy Camp” Jaya Helin
“The winter of 1971/72 was particularly cold and rainy. Toward the end of that winter, a few community members and Ed Abt, father of one of the Ananda High School students, came up with a seemingly brilliant idea for how we could make a sizeable income in a short period of time — why not plant trees for the U.S. Forest Service? Not only would we earn lots of money and do something good for the forest, we’d have great fun camping too! All we needed were some tools, a group of willing workers, and a contract. Since it was the winter season and economic opportunities were always in short supply, it didn’t take long for the idea to gain momentum. The group of planters soon coalesced, and tools were purchased. Mr. Abt, being older and more experienced in these sorts of things, obtained a contract without inspecting the site or having any personal experience. Soon, a group of us were on our way to planting trees in the mountains along the Humbolt River in northern California. Thus was the project “Happy Camp,” (a name long remembered), set into motion. It was one of those early shared community experiences that later came to be known as “learning experiences.”
"Happy Camp (its real name!) is a small logging community that was close to our contract location, but for us the town’s name soon came to a source of great ironic mirth. Our vision of an idyllic forest experience was soon replaced by the harsh realities of commercial tree planting — muddy, clear-cut tracts clogged with debris, exhaustingly steep slopes, heavy loads, and long hours—-all in a constant cold rain for which few us were adequately prepared. Rain -- morning, noon and night! Our campsite was a landing by the side of a remote logging road, high above the town. There were about fifteen of us, mostly men and a few women, living at close quarters, sharing meals and lodging for three weeks in a steamy school bus, a van, and a fourteen foot trailer. Shivani managed most of the cooking, and meals were taken in the bus. Bathing was done by bucket or a dip in a nearby stream (Brrrrr!). Eventually a couple of enterprising fellows built a small sweat lodge from plastic and sticks, giving us a chance to warm up at least once each day. We worked from dawn to dusk until the job was done, our motivation being to simply get the contract done as soon as possible so we could go home. I can still remember the joy I felt that last day after the final tree was planted. Our joy was intense and our reward was a day of beautiful sunshine offering a panoramic view of forest and mountains in the distance, high above the river.
In the end, Happy Camp turned out to be a financial bust; we each made a pittance for our labor. But, in the long run, it was a wonderful opportunity for working together under conditions of great adversity. Although physically stretched to our core, we developed a bond with one another that is unique to groups who face a challenge. In the midst of everything, we meditated, chanted, sang, joked, and shared our adventure together as a community. Through humor and camaraderie, we turned what could have been bitter into shared sweetness and, indeed, an experience from which we learned a lot. In subsequent years, once we had navigated “the ropes” of contracting, with skill, and proper equipment, planting in the winter and tree-thinning in the summer became an important source of income for community members. For two and three weeks at a time, groups of young men would travel to remote locations in the mountains of California and Oregon, camping and working as a team. We approached everything cooperatively, sharing all risks, responsibilities, losses and rewards equally. Out of this came teamwork and habits of mutual trust, friendship and cooperation —- all things upon which a community is built —- that were used to build Ananda in subsequent years. Years later, one had only to say the words “Happy Camp” to another who had shared that adventure to receive in return a knowing smile.”
Later Tree Planting: Puru (Joseph) Selbie
“In the late summer of 1975, Santosh (Brian O’Hara) rallied a large contingent of Ananda Members and apprentices to head up to Oregon for the winter to plant trees for the Forest Service. Swami was highly supportive because the work had the potential to create a huge profit which could be used to ‘pay off the land’, an oft repeated goal in those days. As a result it became a very large and ambitious project. Project victims – er – participants, included Jaya and Puru on the crew, Hridaya and Kirtani as cooks, and Sadhana Devi and Lakshmi looking after the kids.
“An advance team went up to scout out a location and set up camp for over 30 people. Whitaker Creek Campground, in the coast range between Eugene and Florence, Oregon, became home for several months. A large army surplus tent was erected for a dining room, a smaller one for a kitchen, a medium sized one as a ‘men’s dormitory’ and a ‘Quonset-hut’ style tent for the temple. Everyone else arrived bringing tents, small trailers to live in, and, in one instance, what could have easily passed as a gypsy wagon. In a few short days camp routine was fairly well established. Morning meditations in the Quonset temple (a large tent), breakfast in the dining tent, then the lunch and crew were loaded into various trucks and went off to plant trees before the sun even thought about rising. The crew would generally work from dawn to dusk (in winter that wasn’t very long) and return to camp in full darkness (days would go by for the crew without seeing the camp in sunlight) where, at last, a large, well-cooked, warm, nourishing and most welcome dinner would be waiting.
“Spirits were generally high, although the work was very, very hard. A simple description of the work is that the crew planted small fir seedlings in areas that had been clear cut by logging companies. That might conjure up visions for you of people strolling through gently rolling hills occasionally putting a tree in a nicely dug hole and then lovingly patting the soil around the tree before moving on to the next spot.
"The reality was much different. The clear cut areas were on very steep slopes. At times, it was possible to reach and touch the ground with your out stretched arm – without bending down. People actually fell down slopes like skiers on a black diamond run. And the ‘clear cut’ wasn’t clear by any means. Brush had grown up since the trees were cut, there were rock outcroppings, and worst of all was the ‘slash’. Slash was the term for all of the branches, shattered trunks and odd pieces of trees left over from the logging. A typical site looked like someone had been playing ‘pick-up sticks’ on a steep slope with brush growing in and through the pick up sticks.
"Meanwhile each crew member was wearing a big sack of trees slung across one hip and wielding a “hoe-dad”. The sack of trees could weigh 20 to 30 pounds, and felt like it weighed a hundred. The hoe-dad was very like a hoe, only the business end of the hoe-dad was longer. One swung the hoe-dad with as much strength as possible in order to penetrate the ground up to a foot, and then, using a levering motion, opened up a hole to put a fir seeding in. This was repeated by each member of the crew 750 to 1500 times in a day -- while scrambling, squeezing, smashing, slipping, falling and climbing one’s way through the slash. Just to make it perfectly difficult, it was almost always raining.
"Spirits were not so high after the first few days!
"Compounding the sheer difficulty of the work was the news that the project wasn’t going to make any profit after all; wages were going to be low, and the crew was committed, by contract to Uncle Sam, to planting 900,000 trees. It looked like it would be a lo-o-ong winter…
“But spirits revived. The work was hard but not impossible. Fresh air and hard work had a very healthy effect on everyone physically, and the shared experience of hardship created a wonderful camaraderie. One of the running jokes was that no one wanted to be the lead planter but preferred instead to, ’be just another goon in the line‘. Being Californians, various crew members took it upon themselves to describe to the Forest Service overseers, amidst much laughter, what sunshine was actually like.
"After a while, it felt rather like Whitaker Creek Campground was another Ananda community. Swamiji paid a visit, and gave Sunday Service and a talk. Reinforcements arrived periodically with news of back home. There were long meditations on weekends, weekly Sunday services, satsangs, and kirtans. Shyama and Gyandevi, Sadhana and Lakshmi’s little girls, were often seen wandering around the campground. And trips to nearby Eugene for dinner and a movie were a big treat.
"A home burnt down–-well, a trailer anyway. Jaya and Sadhana’s little travel trailer caught fire on a sleepy Sunday afternoon. Luckily no one was hurt and Jaya, having returned from a long bike ride to find his ‘home’ gone, remarked with a grin, ’Easy come, easy go.’
‘In the end, after three or four months, no one made much money and the land certainly did not ‘get paid off’, but it was a remarkably important experience for many people. There was a good bit of attrition. You could almost hear some of crew who were relatively new to Ananda thinking, ‘I didn’t come to Ananda for this!’ But for many it was a deepening experience; a very tangible experience of inner joy in the midst of hard work and outer difficulties.”
The experience gained through planting trees had a practical outcome as well. Our newly-won skills were put to good use in reforesting the Ananda property after the fire of 1976.
Gardens
Haanel Cassidy had arrived in late 1969. After spending the winter away he returned in the spring and began cultivating gardens at the farm. Jaya, Sadhana Devi, Shivani, Devi (Phyllis Novak) and Anandi were among the first gardeners. Haanel often said that this was the first place he’d ever lived where you needed to drain the land first in order to irrigate it. The soil was heavy clay, with very little nutrients, and the terrain was hilly. Rainfall in the Sierras occurs between the months of October and April, then is nonexistent through the summer growing season. The property’s previous incarnation as a hog farm had done nothing to improve the soil, as no crops had been grown. Haanel had brought with him a small tractor and some irrigation equipment. We began tilling a very small plot of land near the farmhouse and adding whatever organic nutrients we could buy. At the same time, we started a compost pile, so by the end of the summer we had a little compost to add to the soil.
From Anandi: “While Haanel was a deep meditator and could have used this meditation time productively, he was also extraordinarily serviceful; he felt that a community should have a garden, and that he would take the responsibility for starting it. Then came what must have been quite a challenge for him. Haanel was a man of erudition, sophistication, and worldly success, as well as a person of deep spiritual refinement.
"The early days of Ananda have been lovingly referred to as the ‘Age of Hair.’ It was the late 60s, and many of the new Ananda members were coming out of the hippie generation. There were some extraordinary souls who worked with him in the garden (and are Ananda leaders today), and there were also quite a few wild characters. One of his gardeners, Rishi, used to wear only a loincloth. Some of the other ex-hippie types were quite casual about material possessions, and most of Haanel’s tools vanished.
"I can still remember that, while we were dressed by choice in funky thrift store rags, Haanel would appear in neat chinos and a clean t-shirt, an outfit that on him looked dapper and refined. His posture was excellent, and he would share the secrets of gardening that he had acquired over his past 60 years. It was a priceless education in gardening, as well as in punctuality, responsibility, grammar, and just about anything else."
As time went by, more people became interested in the garden and began helping with the work, so that eventually we expanded to about two acres, and there were as many as 50 volunteers working the gardens. The garden began providing food for the community and the Retreat guests through the summer months, and we even had a garden apprentice program for a few years.
The garden was one of our best loved activities. Most of us, former city dwellers, had had no opportunity for working in gardens. Years later, many of us remember fondly the time we spent there. Unfortunately, like farmers in many areas we were never able to make it work economically. Today, gardens flourish in back yards, and our community gardens have been given over to extensive landscaping, enjoyed by members and visitors.
Other Income Sources
As early as 1969, Kriyananda instituted the “Dollar a Month Club”. Those who wished to participate would send a dollar a month and receive some of Yogananda’s unpublished sayings in return. It was a way for people to stay connected with Ananda, as well as to help the work financially.
Later we began a tithing program, in which the members offered a percentage of their income each month. Although everyone was welcome to participate, the focus was on those of us who were residents. By this time, many of us had been living extremely frugally for several years. In a prosperous country such as America, it is very easy for a person with a limited income to feel poor. This idea can be very seductive, and before we realized it some of us began to see ourselves as impoverished. Tithing is an excellent way of expanding one’s awareness, and helps to break down the feeling of lack. Many people found that new economic opportunities turned up when they began tithing. As Kriyananda writes, “The very act of giving generates abundance. People who give selflessly to God find that He sustains them. Whatever energy they put out flows back to them, reinforced by the power that sustains the universe.”6
Tithing: Shivani Lucki
“A long time ago, when Ananda had only one community and it was still very small and poor, the residents decided to embark together on a spiritual adventure, inspired by Yoganandaji’s teaching on ‘magnetism.’ At the time the community had to pay the bank a monthly mortgage of $1500.00 for a ten-year period. Each resident in the community was receiving a monthly stipend of about $50.00, which was barely sufficient for the few basic necessities of life.
“We decided to try the practice called ‘tithing’, and to give 10% of our stipend for this payment. There were about 50 of us, and so we raised only $250.00 each month. Although each person was giving only $5.00, it felt like a big personal sacrifice and of small overall concrete benefit. But, we had faith in Yogananda’s teaching, and we were enthusiastic to see the results.
Slowly, the magnetism began to work and many doors started opening. A contract to plant trees for the Forest Service was offered, and a group of us went off for a couple of months and planted pine trees. The money we earned went to pay the mortgage for those months.
"New residents came to the community and some brought with them economic activity. [My husband] Arjuna was one of them, and he established a construction company, which eventually employed about 15 people in the community. Each of these people was able to contribute more than $5.00 a month, and the construction company itself made donations from its earnings.
Other businesses were developed, and they began to contribute to the monthly payments and to provide jobs. The day finally arrived when the mortgage was paid, and the community could begin to grow in new directions. Thus was born Ananda’s motto: MANY HANDS MAKE A MIRACLE!
In Money Magnetism, Kriyananda tells this story:
“Friends of mine, a married couple, had been thinking recently of writing their church to say, 'We really can’t afford to tithe' Then they learned that other church members, who had considerably less money than they did, were tithing regularly. So they took heart and began tithing too.
Soon thereafter, one of them, who had been out of work, found a job. At about the same time, the other got a raise in pay!
"If you tithe a portion of your income to God, you will find that, far from depriving yourself, you will be blessed by the Source of all abundance, God. All real security comes from Him; until you understand and accept this truth, your path through life will forever remain uncertain. But the more you live for Him, the more you will find Him taking care of you–even in the smallest details of your life.7”
This principle was essential for us. By tithing we made a conscious statement of faith in God’s abundance and we have found that abundance growing through the years as our spiritual family grows.

Chapter VII: Membership

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In April, 1970, we formalized our first membership requirements. Although discipleship was not a requirement at first, members were asked to be in tune with our way of life, to be students of Self-Realization Fellowship lessons and the Ananda Correspondence Course, and to have the desire to put spiritual principles first in their lives. Early membership guidelines stressed the need for a spirit of renunciation, seeing service to the community as an important part of one’s dharma. In 1971, discipleship also became a requirement of membership. We have always tried to keep rules to a minimum, and at that time the only rules were: No drugs, no alcohol, no dogs.
As more people arrived, we saw the need for a group that could interview prospective members and make decisions about their acceptance. At first the Village Council made these decisions, but in time this became too cumbersome. Eventually a separate membership committee was created which interviewed prospective members and made recommendations to the community. From the beginning, it was felt that there should be a membership fee, so in 1970 the fee was formalized at $1000.00 for a single person, and $1500.00 for a couple. This helped to ensure the prospective members’ commitment, as well as contributing financially toward the growth of the work. In fact, one couple’s membership fee in 1972 was just enough to forestall a second foreclosure attempt on our property.

In the early years there was no specific training program for new or prospective members. Members and prospective members attended all the classes that Kriyananda gave, as well as Sunday Service. At first, that system worked, as we were nearly all on the same footing spiritually. Later, training programs were developed; one of the first was called the “Apprentice Program”, which not only offered training in Yogananda’s teachings but also practical skills such as gardening and construction. Prakash (James) Van Cleave was the first director of the Apprentice Program.

The Apprentice Program: Prakash Van Cleave
The Ananda Apprentice Program began as a garden apprenticeship in the very early days of the community. I came to Ananda on Aug 5, 1974, and I was asked to head up this program the following summer. A few small notices in new age journals, some correspondence that winter, and May 1975 brought twelve young people into the fledgling experiment.
My idea was to have each participant serve an apprenticeship in a specific area of community life-– garden, building, dairy, Master’s Market (our food store and outlet for the garden produce), publications. The foundation of the program was the spiritual life of the community: twice-daily sadhanas; Energization Exercises; yoga postures and meditation; evening classes in the yoga teachings of Yogananda and Kriyananda; chanting, and longer meditations.
I myself was a bizarre introduction to the yoga path for many young seekers–a yellow clad aspiring monk, hair tied up in a topknot, emaciated and intense.
The first year (later dubbed the ‘summer of love’), I imposed no outward discipline, sure that meditation and kindness would cure all ills and turn all comers into joyful yogis.

The second year (later dubbed the "year of discipline"), responding to community dismay at the spreading chaos of the "summer of love", I became the yogi drill sergeant, requiring attendance at all sadhanas, pushing wake-up time back to 4:30 a.m., and even in the face of mutiny continuing to ring the wake-up bell until all apprentices had assembled out on the chilly pre-dawn meadow for another session of shivering yoga!

The third year a semblance of balance came. The topknot went away; we arose at 6:00 a.m., and a better time was had by all.Many of our finest Ananda men and women are graduates (survivors?) of that early program. Surely the hand of the Master is evident in such ineptitude, however sincere and well intentioned, “leading” through so many shining devotees and long time members of the Ananda community.

Chapter VIII: Be Intensely Active for God

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Families
While some families had arrived as early as 1969, they began to come in greater numbers in 1971 and thereafter. Life for anyone at Ananda was difficult on the material plane – for families it sometimes proved impossible. As there was little or no infrastructure at first, this meant that homes were cabins with no running water or electricity. Yet, families were drawn to Ananda because of spiritual ideals just as were single people. These first, dedicated souls worked together to provide a foundation for spiritual family life, and over the years families have helped develop “How to Live” Education that addresses the needs of the whole child, not only his or her academic life.
As families continued to join the community their particular challenge was to build a life of inner renunciation while attending to the responsibilities of family life. It should be noted that of Yogananda’s first disciples, nearly all were married or widowed. From our line of masters, both Lahiri Mahasaya and Sri Yukteswar were married. When Lahiri Mahasaya received Kriya Yoga from Babaji, he specifically asked that the technique be available to all sincere seekers, not only to monastics. Babaji’s answer was “Be it so. The divine wish has been expressed through you.” Autobiography of a Yogi, page 307.
Most families lived at the Farm/Village, where for single people and families alike, there seemed to be great difficulty in establishing a regular schedule of group sadhana (spiritual practices). Added to that was the difficulty of finding a harmonious way to include children in one’s sadhana; the challenge often proved to be too much for a family. Along with this, the need to provide food and shelter often competed with the ashram schedule. The first Ananda families drew on their creative energy to develop spiritual family life.

Early Family life at Ananda: Lakshmi (Suzanne) Selbie
“My first child, Gyani, was born in 1973 in an unfinished dome at the Meditation Retreat, with no running water, a leaky roof, and a wood stove which didn’t work very well. In spite of the hardships, though, I loved being there in the woods seeking realization and living with fellow seekers. As many of my friends had become nuns and monks the previous year, it felt awkward to be a parent in a monastic community, but people were kind and accepting even though there were no precedents for how to do this.
“Meditation got harder and less frequent with a baby. For a while I took her to satsangs and even on long trips with Swami and other assistants, where Gyani and I bunked down on the floor together as guests in people’s homes, as Swami gave talks and made recordings.
“When Gyani was six or seven months old we moved to the farm into a cozier house (a tiny log cabin, carpeted everywhere with red carpeting!). With no car for much of this time, I walked to the Publications building carrying Gyani and put her in a playpen while I did clerical work. When she got heavier and more mobile, and working at Publications was no longer possible, she and I would go to the Reception Center and greet visitors. I gave tours of the community on foot, with Gyani on my hip.
“Later, spiritual life grew harder because I couldn’t take Gyani to satsangs (spiritual gatherings) and there were many lonely times, but I still managed to have kirtans (chanting sessions) at my house. Haridas and others gathered at my house to do Yogananda’s ‘Affirmations for Psychological Success’. We called ourselves the Future Saints Club. Being a single mother was stressful and difficult, but it never occurred to me to be anywhere else. It was a joy to be there. As time went on families began to learn how to live this family/monastic life.”

Simple Living:
Vidura and Durga (John and Sally Smallen)
“We had looked all over the state of California for a place to live: a place with high ideals, yogic principles, schools our two children could attend, and like minded people where we could learn and grow. Did such a place exist? We just couldn’t find one we felt in tune with although we met many people who wanted something more than the typical lifestyle known to us at the time.
“Then we attended a ‘Meeting of the Ways’ conference in San Francisco, where we met Swami Kriyananda and people from Ananda community in Nevada City, only four hours from where we lived! From the time we first visited Ananda with its 80 some members, we felt at home, and we moved there four months later after finishing up our jobs, homelife, and schools in Oakland. We spent the first 3 months in a tent and served anywhere we were needed: Vidura on top of the domes at the retreat, applying much needed mastic to keep the rain out; Durga helping in the office. The children attended camp and read the Autobiography of a Yogi for the first time. We all felt very comfortable here and began our new life.
‘One of the most delightful images we have from those early days is of our daughter, Melissa, taking off riding on her horse Britches when she was just ten years old. She would come home from the small 12 student Ananda School, do her chores, and then bridle her horse, sometimes with saddle, sometimes bareback, and take off down the dirt roads to her friends’ homes. Life was simpler then: no phones or electricity, not many cars, no thought of being afraid in the woods.
‘Our day was regulated pretty much by the sunlight hours. The only real phone was at the Publications Building. Life was slower and yet we all worked hard. Evenings without electricity were quiet and we often spent them playing board games or reading to one another. TV was not an option, and video was not yet invented. Propane and gas lights were usually ‘out’ by 9:00 pm.
“Swamiji was often here giving classes on the weekends and helping us with much needed personal advice whenever we asked for it. The simplicity and joy were tangible. It was 1974-- and we were beginning to grow as a community”.

MARRIAGES

Marriage can be a foundation for the spiritual life. Through the friendship that is grown and nurtured in a marriage environment, we find support in our spiritual efforts. At Ananda, we have sought to refine marriage to fit the realities of contemporary society while keeping spiritual ideals alive. As in society in general, not all our marriages have succeeded, but those couples that have parted have, with rare exception, remained friends.

These marriages took place at Ananda in the early years:
Sadhana Devi & Jaya Helin......................... 1973
Durga & Vidura Smallen.............................. 1974
Devi & Jyotish Novak................................. 1975
Shivani & Arjuna Lucki................................ 1975
Saraswati & Ganesha Kieran ....................... 1976
RENUNCIATION
After the Retreat season of 1971 ended with the third annual Spiritual Renewal Week, Kriyananda held a meeting of single people to ascertain whether there was interest in a monastic order. Several people attended, and later that month seven people took conditional monastic vows. They were: Satya, Jaya, Binay, Haridas, Seva, Shivani, and Sadhana Devi. The order was called The Friends of God. It was a life changing experience for us. Kriyananda didn’t speak of the things one was giving up; instead he focused on a life lived dedicated to God, and explained that the heart of renunciation is about what we embrace — God. To the degree that we can embrace this life we will find harmony.
From Jaya’s talk at Spiritual Renewal Week 2005
“ From that moment forward, my life totally changed. I became a different person. I began to understand what it was to be a devotee on the spiritual path. All seven of us were changed and each one of us is still here.”
In a newsletter of April 1972, Kriyananda said,
“There can be no spiritual progress without at least some spirit of renunciation. In a community such as ours this spirit is especially important. ‘I want this, I want that’ is a thought that must be replaced by, ‘What is right?’ or ‘What is best for everyone?’, or best of all, ‘What does God want? What does Guru want?’ That is the only way to develop harmoniously as a group, and it is the only way for individuals to develop themselves, spiritually.” (Banyan Tree, 1972)
In 1971 Kriyananda spent the summer living in a tent on a piece of property that he had purchased very near to the Farm. His friend Phil Capy had had a dream in which the Master told him to help Kriyananda build his dome home. Phil had begun construction in the early part of the year and by the fall it was nearly completed. At about the time that Kriyananda moved into his new dome the new renunciates moved their tepees and trailers to the same property, called Ayodhya, after the ancient land of Lord Rama in the Ramayana.
The Nuns: Seva Wiberg
“The nuns were very close. We would go to work together, share cars, and sometimes share meals. Each morning, Parvati or Asha (who joined the monastery later) would ring a bell at 6:00 am to awaken us for sadhana: energization and meditation together. If we didn’t respond right away, Parvati would stand outside and ask for a mother’s maiden name or other questions until she got a response! The tepee temple had a wood stove, which would give off smoke, but not much heat, which made us wonder why we were trying to keep it together during those cold, dark days.
“But, over the years we became a powerful group of devotees that helped to instill a sense of strong dedication, loyalty, and perseverance to the work that was going on all around us. Many of the monks and nuns were leaders who started businesses, organized campaigns, held the finances together, built buildings, and were on the forefront of most activities.
“It became apparent after many years that to really build a community, however, the families needed to be in charge. This is when the monastic energy was replaced by a group of married renunciates, many of whom had earlier been part of the monastery. This new renunciate order showed that, no matter whether a person was married or single, the dedication to finding God and serving the work was what true renunciation was really all about.”
By placing a monastery in the midst of the community, the spirit of renunciation began to permeate the community as a whole. Eventually, both single people and married couples began to live a life of inner renunciation.
Today, there is a renewal of interest in a monastery, and three men now comprise the monastery at the Meditation Retreat. In addition, there are six monks at Ananda, India. Of the original seven monastics, all are still active members of Ananda. Five are married; four with children. They, along with all families at Ananda, work to set an example of inner renunciation regardless of outer roles. Today, all members of Ananda are also members of a lay monastic order.

CHILDREN AND SCHOOL
Nitai Deranja, founder of Ananda School: “Family life is another opportunity in attunement, a chance to figure out, ‘What would Master do with children? How can you find ways to share the Path and Divine Mother with the kids?’ In my experience, it’s more about everyday life. If you’re trying to keep your mind on God and staying centered, the kids pick it up by osmosis. We’ve found that there is no one way to raise kids in a spiritual community. The process is as unique as the individuals themselves. It involves giving everyone the space they need in order to find the pattern that works most harmoniously for them.”

Ananda High School
In April, 1970, students from a private school called Pacific High School visited Ananda from the Bay Area, along with two of their teachers. They camped out and woke up to snow and caved-in tents. Their school had geodesic domes and so they offered to spend their summer building another dome for the retreat kitchen. The following year the two teachers, Dharmaraj and Meera (Alan and Heath Schmidt), joined Ananda and created Ananda High School, emphasizing personal creativity and freedom of expression along with spiritual self development. Tuition was $2,970.00 per year, including room and board. This was the beginning of Ananda How to Live Education.

Ananda High School by Maitri Jones
I was 18 years old when I first came to Ananda. David Phillips, a teenage friend of mine from Seattle, knew that I was interested in yoga and told me about a boarding school where he was going to finish his last year of high school. After writing to the school directors, Dharmaraj and Meera, and also receiving some sweet notes of encouragement from a former student, Kumari, I decided to join David at the Ananda High School. Even though I had already completed a diploma at a public high school, I was convinced that at the Ananda School I could learn far more about who I was and what would bring me happiness than I had in any previous school experiences. At the time the school was the only program being offered at Ananda for someone of my age.
Some of the great souls such as Satya, Anandi, Devi, Shivani, Asha, and Haanel turned out to be inspiring guest teachers for my high school classes. True to their promises Dharmaraj and Meera took me into their family of students and introduced me to a way of life that I had longed for. They helped me discover Ananda as a group of joyful and courageous people who were living their lives dedicated to finding God. Ananda High School turned out to be the doorway to finding my guru and spiritual family.
Editor’s Note: Maitri later moved to Seattle, completed her education, married, and had two daughters. She and her family later returned to Ananda, and her daughters have both attended Ananda High School.

Elementary School: Drawing out the leaders
In 1971, Nitai (Michael Deranja) visited the Retreat as a student teacher. When

he received his teaching credential the next year, he returned and began teaching school to the elementary grades, continuing the efforts made in the previous year by another teacher. He tried to put into practice these words of Kriyananda: ‘As a leader, you will get the best results for the least amount of effort if you work with those who are in tune with your ideals. You would be wise not to give a disproportionate amount of energy to those who are not in tune. Creativity cannot thrive where too much effort is devoted to merely holding the line.’ The Art of Supportive Leadership, ch 11
Although some of the children weren’t interested in school, Nitai followed Kriyananda’s example, and made friends with the children who did seem interested. They, in turn, magnetized the other children and soon there was a class.

Ananda School: Nitai Deranja

“Certainly a big part of my life at Ananda has been focused around the children. I have appreciated the chance to serve in this way, partly because it is the children who make an intentional community more than a monastery! Children tend to keep things lively, joyful and challenging—-all big assets to the larger community.
“After visiting Ananda for a couple of years, I came here to live in the summer of 1972. The community desperately needed a teacher and had hired someone to come out from town a few days per week. When word got out that I was a teacher, I was immediately asked to take over the job —-for one thing, it meant the community could save money! I was presented with a falling-down, 10x12 shed in front of what is now Master’s Market to use as the school. Since the shed had been most recently used as a chicken coop, the first job was to shovel out the three foot deep layer of manure. We put plastic over the windows and the walls and installed a very inadequate heater. With no money, desks, or other furniture, it was an extremely humble beginning, but the children didn’t know the difference, and I didn’t mind, so we just dove in and started experimenting. What might spiritual education become? What might Education for Life look like? There were a lot of learning experiences. In those days, the whole community was full of ‘learning experiences’ which was the code phrase for doing the wrong thing and figuring out later what you should have done! But it was fun. After six months in the shed, we moved into Aspen, one of the first new buildings (along with the publications building) that the community built. It wasn’t finished by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a major up-grade from the chicken coop.
That first class consisted of seven children, ages four through seven. Storytelling immediately proved to be a popular activity, as well as a fun way of introducing new vocabulary. I began with the story of the Ramayana, telling a little bit of the story every day. One day I told how ‘Hanuman had flown through the sky like a meteor on his way to Sri Lanka.’ I stopped and asked, ‘Does anyone know what “meteor” means?’ One boy raised his hand and answered, “A meteor is somebody who eats hamburgers.’ Kids can be so cute! Well, I continued the story until I came to the part where, ‘Rama was sitting in the forest in samadhi.’ I stopped and asked, ‘What does “Samadhi” (Oneness) mean?’ Nicole, four years old, raised her hand and answered, ‘It’s when you are sitting there really still and someone comes up to you and says, “Nicole, Nicole” and there is nobody there to answer.’ So much for children being limited to “cuteness”. It was incidents like this that helped set a tone of mutual respect in our interactions.

CHILDREN
These children were born at Ananda, or moved to the community with their parents in the early years:
Prem Kane (Kalyani Todd)
Dwayne and Melissa Smallen (Durga and Vidura)
Michelle (Gyani) Simpson (Lakshmi Selbie)
Shyama Helin (Sadhana Devi and Jaya)
Mark (Kalidasa) Novak (Devi and Jyotish)

Other families with children came to Ananda and attended our schools for a time, later moving on to other schools and interests. Today, some of these grown children are approaching 40 years of age, and include business owners, an herbalist, a machinist, a project manager for a marketing firm, and a primary school teacher. They live all around the world, some of them at our communities, and they often gather at Ananda Village for reunions.

Chapter IX: Getting Organized

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GOVERNMENT
Although creativity was our foundation, one thing we learned in Ananda’s first summer was the need for some structure.

Our first attempts at organizing consisted of ‘Town Council’ meetings, weekly or more often as needed. Everyone attended, and everything was discussed, from the mundane to the sublime, whether the question was how many times to ring the bell for lunch, or what pictures should be on the altar. Finding consensus was a long and arduous process. The dog issue, epitomized by a stray hound dog named Blue, really didn’t take months and months to resolve as sometimes is told in stories, but it certainly took many meetings. The larger issue was the presence of dogs in the community at all. Blue was a great example of why this question came up. At that time, there were also a few other dogs in the community. Some people were sentimentally attached to the idea of dogs, and others were highly opposed for all the obvious reasons. Blue was an OK dog in many ways, but he liked to bark and he especially liked to chase deer. No one seemed willing to take responsibility for Blue, so for many of us the argument was more than simply what to do about Blue. It was about arriving at and enforcing a policy of No Dogs which finally came to be part of our code: No Dogs, No Alcohol and No Drugs. This episode also illustrates the limitations of consensus decision-making and how a simple issue can polarize people.

People are More Important Than Things: Devi Novak
“Over the years of building Ananda Kriyananda has worn his innate air of authority and leadership lightly and naturally, never ‘lording it’ over anyone. A few years ago he remarked to a few friends, ‘I recently received a letter from an Ananda member saying how much he admired my ability to accomplish things and to lead others. He needs to understand that I’m no different from anyone else – I’ve just been doing it a little longer’.

Considerate and tactful, Swamiji tries to correct and guide others in their spiritual growth without hurting or discouraging them. Once, someone wrote a letter to my husband (Jyotish) and me criticizing our way of directing a certain aspect of Ananda. We were hurt by his words, which seemed to us unfair, but since we were about to attend a community Christmas celebration, we decided to say nothing about it to Swamiji until later.

As soon as he saw us at the gathering, however, he immediately asked,
"What’s wrong?" After we’d explained about the letter, we asked him in humility, "Swamiji, we want to do the right thing. Please tell us, are the things he wrote about us true?"

After reflecting a moment he said, "You’re doing the best you can for who you are."
Trying to pin him down, I pressed further, "Well, was he wrong in writing the letter?"
With wisdom inclusive of everybody’s reality, he answered, "He’s doing the best he can for who he is."
Then, with a twinkle of warmth and understanding in his eyes, he concluded, "And I’m doing the best I can for who I am."

DECISION MAKING
Kriyananda often left many important decisions, such as those regarding planning and land management, in the hands of other community members. However, when he felt strongly that principles were involved, he expected that his ideas at least be given serious consideration. In 1971, Kriyananda was offered a gift of $20,000.00 to have a new building constructed in which to house the Publications business. He had agreed to place the building on a site that had been chosen by others as a light industrial area, on a hill above the Farm area. This caused a good deal of controversy, and in late summer 1971 he called a meeting to discuss this and other issues, particularly at the Farm. His idea of having a building that made an architectural and philosophical statement, placed where it could be easily seen, was challenged by a small group of people with inflexible opinions. The meeting quickly became acrimonious and the result was that about 50 people, many very peripheral to the community, decided to leave. It was a good lesson in the need for clear and effective leadership. It also pointed out the importance of “looking at the big picture”: setting aside one’s likes and dislikes for a larger goal. And, it helped us define our direction of further growth.

This issue became symbolic for some people. How were these types of things to be decided? The problem with consensus is that very little can be done that is beyond the opinions and experiences of people. It is difficult in such a system to do anything bold.

Issues such as this one helped define Ananda and, as the community began to come into focus, those who felt uncomfortable with its emerging directions drifted away. This confrontation illustrated a conflict between an airy, but rather passive, idealism versus Kriyananda’s energetic visionary ideals. The first view embodies the psuedo-Native American view (with which many back-to-the-landers self identified), that the land is “sacred” and should be undeveloped, the second view that land can be developed and used for positive human purposes.

With population growth came complexity. Visions about the nature of the community, its direction, growth, and financial decisions inevitably raised the question, “How do we decide this?” Would it be by consensus? That had proved very cumbersome. Appointed managers? Who appoints whom and why? Some combination? Ananda evolved into a mixed system of appointed leaders who showed good community spirit, combined with a tradition of allowing people who showed initiative, energy, and common sense to make decisions in their area of interest. Overlayed upon this was developed a way in which consensus could be workable: an elected Village Council which became the forum for community discussion where issues could be discussed and decisions arrived at, under the direction of appointed managers. Some people perceived this as undemocratic because Kriyananda held the ultimate moral authority to appoint community leaders, but most felt comfortable with this because of the additional fact of Ananda being an ashram, not simply a secular community. In such a model, authority is passed down through the spiritual leadership as it is in a monastery. Ultimately, Ananda has had a mixture of many forms and there has always been some ambiguity and flexibility. When people ask,”What is best for everyone?”, or “What does God want?,” rather than “What do I want?”, this kind of thinking leads very quickly to solutions.

INNER TESTING
In early 1973, while Swami was in India, an attempt was made by several people to create a charter for Ananda. This was born in part by frustration felt by them that they didn’t have enough “clout” in making decisions. Among the other items in the charter was a limit on how long any person could serve as a leader. This would have meant that Swami would have to step down, along with Jyotish, who had been acting as community manager. When Swami returned from India he met with the aforementioned people to say that he could not in good conscience go along with such an idea. This was, indeed, a line in the sand and these people left the community soon after that.

In 1973, with Swami’s input, a corporation called “Ananda Village, Inc.” was set up to give legal structure to the community, and the name “Ananda Farm” was replaced by “Ananda Village”. As has already been mentioned, a Village Council was formed, the result of meetings that were held over the winter of 1972/73 to find a way to create a decision making body for day-to-day affairs of the community and as a forum for regular discussion of community issues such as roads, buildings, gardens, stray dogs, and community events. It served as a mechanism for imposing dues and fees upon members and a place to discuss membership.

Among the Village Council members at the first meeting on April 17, 1973 were Jyotish, Jaya, Seva and Devi. The original By Laws of Ananda Village provided for a Village Manager. As Jyotish had already been fulfilling that role, the corporate setup formalized this position.

YOGA FELLOWSHIP
At the same time that Ananda Village, Inc. was created, title to all the property was transferred from the names of individuals to that of the Yoga Fellowship. It was decided that membership in the Yoga Fellowship would be reserved for those who had been Ananda Village Members for at least five years. Swami was very concerned that the land be held by an entity that was more stable and dedicated to spiritual principles rather than by something like the Village corporation which allowed short time members to vote.

MASTER PLAN
In 1974, we were offered the opportunity to purchase the 326 acres next to Ananda Village. We were able to raise funds for the purchase, and we made plans to move our retreat center, which became the Expanding Light, to this property. This brought our total acreage to 633, including the Meditation Retreat’s 72 acres. By this time, however, we had outgrown our original status as a church camp, and were required by the county government to provide a Master Plan along with an Environmental Impact Report before proceeding with any more construction. For us, this was quite challenging. We were outgrowing our facilities at a rapid pace, and few of us had even heard of a Master Plan.

The Master Plan Process: Jaya Helin
The Master Plan process lasted from 1974 to 1978 when we received final permission to proceed. During that time, Sam Dardick, a neighbor and local planner, led the planning team, and one of the things we did under his direction was to conduct a series of neighborhood meetings on the Ridge to get information out to the public and receive input. Sam, as an experienced planner, was very big on creating positive public relations. All along, as part of the creation of our Environmental Impact Report, we conducted engineering and other studies to address all the questions about how our development would impact such things as water resources, wildlife, roads, school systems, etc. Because we worked on these for such a long time, and because the issues were before the public for all that time, when our proposal was first heard in an official capacity by the Nevada County Planning Commission, the questions were mostly of a technical nature as to filling in the blank spaces and details. Although there was some questioning by the public about whether we had adequately addressed the issues, by the end most of the objective questions were answered. The Planning Commission gave us the OK and sent it to the Nevada County Board of Supervisors for approval. It was here that a certain amount of subjective opposition arose, but it was not great. In fact, we had a number of people speak in our support. (Editor’s note: Intense neighborhood opposition didn’t arise until later when we applied for municipal incorporation in the early 1980s). However, the Planning Department staff were not in favor of our proposal. Certainly they didn’t want to make it easy, or perhaps they were simply sticklers for the rules. We were breaking new planning ground in those days and were doing something with which planning departments were not familiar; in fact, Ananda may have been the first Planned Unit Development in Nevada County. Certainly they had never encountered anything like us and didn’t know what to do, so they balked and played it safe. In retrospect, I suppose they felt misunderstood; they were simply trying to do their jobs and ended up having a wild plan like ours land on the table during their watch. They just wished we would go away and make their lives easier.

The plan went through three major drafts. Anandi wrote the first draft, Jaya wrote the second, and Devi polished it all up for the final draft. The county gave us a special building permit for the Expanding Light temple project in 1977, even though the Plan was not finally accepted until 1978. The Expanding Light was complete enough in 1984 for us to finally move our public retreat from the old Meditation Retreat to the Village.
http://picasaweb.google.com/sadhanadevi/IXGettingOrganized

Chapter X: Reaching Out

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As our nucleus formed and more visitors came to our retreat, Kriyananda saw the opportunity to begin reaching out beyond our borders, not only to those who might be interested in Yogananda’s teachings, but also as a means of acquainting the local community with what we were doing. The Master Plan process and other events made it clear to us as time went on that we needed to build bridges and develop more relationships outside the community, so that the general public could understand what our community was trying to accomplish. One of the ways we began reaching out was to form a singing group in 1975, called the Ghandarvas (Sanskrit for Celestial Singers). This group began performing locally, as well as in nearby Sacramento, eventually growing into several “Joy Singers”, singing groups, who now perform Swami’s music around the world. We continued to perform The Jewel in the Lotus as well, and we also began giving seminars how to prepare for hard times, with Jyotish, Santosh, Shivani, Asha and Devi. At many of these events we met new people interested in Ananda, some of whom later joined the community.

Swamiji visited India in 1972, and again in 1974. On the second trip Nalini, Jyotish and Shraddha Kimmel accompanied him.

A Visit to India: Nalini Graeber, Jyotish Novak
Nalini: “We soon made a pilgrimage to Master’s house, mentioned in Autobiography of a Yogi. After meditating in the little attic room where Master said he found God, we had tea with Master’s brother and his family, who occupy the house now. He told us a little about his early life with Master. (Editor’s note: Yogananda’s brother, Sananda, has since passed away.) The women were pleased that Shraddha and I were wearing saris. As a sweet gesture, they called us aside to give us bangles which were, alas, too small to slip easily over our Western-sized palms. We were deeply impressed by the kindness and humility of Master’s relatives. Later on we had a similar experience at the house where Swami Kebalananda taught Sanskrit to Master, and then in Benares at Lahiri Mahasaya’s house. We meditated at the tree where Babaji appeared to Sri Yukteswar until the crowd that had gathered to watch us became too imposing!
We were especially moved by our visits to the saints of India. Here is an account, in Jyotish’s words, of our visit to Anandamayee Ma in Haridwar:

Jyotish: There is a tangible aura of joy permeating the room, a definite feeling of being in the presence of a divine consciousness. It is deeper than appearance, having nothing to do with speech since she isn’t talking. It is a lesson that the divine is primarily existent as consciousness, and secondarily existent as form. If one can become attuned to the consciousness, it is ever present and continually showering blessings.

The next morning, Swamiji arrives and we go again to see Ma. There is great love between Swamiji and Ma, and joy in both of them to be meeting again. Ma comes to talk with us, and we have a chance to ask questions. For us, she gives little detailed advice; the essence of her answers is to go within and contact the guru. But in response to a letter from Haripriya, one of her disciples, she gives detailed instructions. A lesson in the guru-disciple relationship.

Nalini concludes: Despite the physical inconveniences, we truly felt sad to leave India. It is remarkable to be in a culture where there is practically no such thing as atheism. It is not uncommon for Indians, even those who claim to think little about God, to have more spiritual experiences than we down-to-earth Westerners who have been on the path for years. We noticed quite a contrast when we traveled on to Europe from India. Despite the greater affluence, we saw fewer happy faces in cities like Athens, Paris, or New York, than we did even in Calcutta. In America, especially, we felt a deep spiritual hunger and a tangible sense of appreciation for teachings such as ours, which help to fill that longing.

Chapter XI: Shiva the Destroyer

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On June 28, 1976, a wildland fire swept through Ananda Village, destroying 21 of our 22 simple homes. By God’s grace there were no deaths or injuries,8 but in the space of an afternoon many of our families and single people were left homeless. The “refugees” spent that night at the Meditation Retreat, and at the monastery, as well as in some of the business buildings remaining on the property. (All of these buildings were saved.)

The following day, a meeting was held in front of the market. An emergency housing committee was quickly formed to ensure that everyone had long term temporary housing that was adequate. Another committee was formed to keep tabs on spot fires which might be flaring up again. The market prepared meals. Within a week nearly everyone had adequate shelter to take them at least through the summer, and in some cases, much longer. Most were able to return to work and begin to think about rebuilding. Although recovery was difficult and time consuming, it was made much easier by the camaraderie of shared experience. As Jyotish quipped, “People were so worried about everyone else’s well being that they forgot to feel bad about their own situation.”

Boyd Johnson, Chief of the local fire department, offered his observations of the fire and its aftermath:

In 1976 I was new to the area and was staying with friends nearby on the afternoon the Oak Tree Fire started. I had a view of the meadow below me, where I watched a line of people turn away and flee from the fire as it moved uphill. [Editor’s note: These were not firefighters, but residents who were trying to fight the fire.] I also noted the absence of the fire retardant bomber aircraft, which I later learned were 100 miles away, fighting another large fire that afternoon. [Editor’s note: Dropping fire retardant from aircraft is the most effective way of fighting wildland fires in rural California].

The next morning I went outside to look over the fire area from my vantage point. One could see the bombers circling, and as I watched the first go in for a retardant drop it disappeared, diving below the ridgeline. I waited, and then waited uncomfortably, for it to reappear, pulling up from its dive. And then I saw a column of black smoke rise from behind the ridge. It was difficult to believe that what I had just witnessed had really happened. I learned later the bomber had crashed very close to the Ananda property line.

Years later, I joined the North San Juan Fire Department, and twenty five years later to the day, several people arrived at the office where I was now working as the fire chief. One of them was an elegant woman introduced to me as the widow of the pilot. They had returned, on that sad anniversary, to visit the scene of his death. I drove with them up to Maidu Ridge to show them the landmarks from that vantage point.

The Oak Tree Fire which caused so much devastation to the Ananda Community remains this area’s most damaging fire, as of this writing.
Ananda has given invaluable assistance to the North San Juan Fire Department, and the local community through its members who have served as volunteer firefighters, Fire District board members and Fire District employees and volunteers.

The Fire: Savitri Simpson
Savitri lived in Texas and had first visited Ananda for two months in the summer of 1975. She says “I was devastated and disheartened by the news of the fire. I had planned to move to the community as soon as I could, and I couldn’t imagine that Ananda would be able to go on. However, I decided to visit again anyway in August of 1976, about a month after the fire had happened, not at all knowing what to expect. On the physical plane, things were pretty bad. But the cheerful dedication of the members truly amazed me. Rather than packing up and leaving, nearly everyone seemed determined to stay and rebuild. I had made many friends during my stay the summer before, and I knew how little they had in the way of material goods — and then for my Ananda friends to lose everything they had and still be able to remain even-minded and cheerful — I was completely inspired. It was the sense of everyone looking out for one another — I knew that this attitude, plus Swami Kriyananda’s guidance, and Master’s continuing grace sustained them and kept them going. It made me want to stay and help rebuild in whatever ways I could.”

RISING FROM THE ASHES
We were truly touched by the outpouring of financial and spiritual help we received, not only from other spiritually minded people but from the general public. Complete strangers offered help locally, by providing jobs and cash. Other spiritual groups responded to our newsletter, sending money as well as people to help us rebuild. These included Swami Chidananda and Swami Satchidananda, and builders from Stephen Gaskin’s group in Tennessee, The Farm, and from 3HO (Yogi Bhajan’s group). There were many others, too numerous to mention.
Later, it was discovered that the fire had had been caused by faulty road equipment, belonging to the local government, which had ignited the dry grass on the roadside. We could have sued the county, but Kriyananda wrote to the Nevada County Board of Supervisors, saying, “We don’t want to take our bad luck out on our fellow citizens by increasing the county’s insurance rates. Anything that harms the county will, in the long run, harm Ananda also.” (See Faith is My Armor, pg 173)

The fire provided Ananda an opportunity to change our direction. Some people found that their commitment did not extend to starting over again, and chose to leave the community. From our many donations we were able to compensate them financially for their lost homes as we reassessed our needs and tried to attune ourselves to God’s will for Ananda.

We were able to plan better for our housing. Instead of homes scattered across the property, we chose to place them in clusters, or neighborhoods. Some of our homes are now typical single-family dwellings; others are group houses of varying size. This has made it possible for economic savings on infrastructure, as well as promoting a neighborhood feeling as the community grows in population, and leaving more space for wildlands.

We expanded our school. Many children had been born at Ananda during these years; now they were ready for pre-school.

Manifesting a Pre-School Out of Nothing: Saraswati Kieran
Saraswati came to Ananda Village in early 1976 and began organizing a pre-school. She was given a small yurt for the first pre-school building.

The raging fire that swept through Ananda Village that June also swept away any hope we had for ever moving into the yurt, for this was one of the 21 houses that went up in smoke that day. Our dream for a pre-school in the community would have to wait until temporary homes had been found for the families who had lost everything in the fire.

Muktan and Jagadamba Knowles with their three children were one of the relocated families after the fire. They were given what was the reception center at that time (now Binay’s gem shop) down in the main area of the village. They had a daughter among the group of children waiting for the new pre-school to open, and they offered to let the school use the back part of their building where an addition was being built. Eventually, the house would be expanded and they would have more space for their growing family of five.

When I took my first tour of the rectangular cement slab with a roof and 2 by 4’s and plastic for walls, I had a really hard time imagining how it could ever be anything other than depressing. I then realized how grateful I should have been when I was originally offered the rustic wooden building that was lost in the fire. It had at least had real walls and a floor that would not suck the heat out of warm little bodies!

Little by little, things came together and we were able to move into the building for pre-school classes in the early fall. We invited Swamiji over one day for a picture-taking session, and we were delighted when he actually came. We took several priceless pictures of Swamiji with his long hair and orange robes sitting on one end of the teeter totter with the entire pre-school class of five on the other end!

When the rains came that year, I found myself sunk in a mud nightmare at the pre-school. At that time, the roads had not been paved. We watched the roads quickly swallow up load after load of gravel, while maintaining a thick peanut buttery consistency that could suck the rubber boots right off an adult. (I am not joking.) When the children would come in from recess outdoors, they would be covered in mud. On a good day, one or two of them would have managed not to fall down in the mud and not need to change all their clothes before being let back into the classroom. When I threatened to keep them indoors, because they were too dirty when they came back in the classroom, there was a huge outcry of protest from each tiny little throat.

I remember meditating and offering up this mud-monster problem to Divine Mother one day. ‘OK, Divine Mother, I understand that your children need to go outside to play, but this mud business is too much for me. What am I to do?’
As I sat trying to expand my mind to allow any solutions that Divine Mother might like to send my way, a picture came into my mind of a huge truck filled with sawdust. Later, after meditation, I realized that what I had pictured was one of the trucks I had seen passing by the pre-school on several different occasions. These trucks came by from time to time to dump sawdust in the garden to help improve the soil.

So, why were sawdust trucks rumbling through my meditation? After I had a chance to think about it for a while, I realized that if we were to spread a foot-thick layer of sawdust over the peanut butter mud outside the pre-school, my mud nightmare would be over. The children would then need only a light sweeping to remove the sawdust and all would be well.

dWe did get the sawdust delivered, and it worked like a dream come true. And all because Divine Mother was kind enough to send sawdust trucks rumbling through my meditation one day. While trying to put together a pre-school out of nothing, I had finally learned that one has to actually recognize a blessing, before one can make use of it.

Even while rebuilding the community we continued our efforts in reaching out, not only through our concerts and programs, but also by establishing a center in nearby Sacramento, headed by Haridas and Vijay. They rented a small house in a residential area there, and converted the garage to a meditation temple.

Garage of the Eternal Religion: Vijay Girard
When Haridas and I arrived in Sacramento we dove headlong into establishing Ananda’s first outreach center. We remodeled the garage of our rental house into a chapel with lots of soundproofing, and created what was later affectionately known as the "Garage of the Eternal Religion". On December 9, 1977 we had the official opening of the center and Swamiji came to give a public talk at the Y.W.C.A in Sacramento. We then began to give Sunday Services and classes in Hatha and Raja Yoga at the center. Soon there was an enthusiastic group of people who became dedicated to the teachings of Paramhansa Yogananda.

When we first started the center we hoped that Swamiji would give us some deep and inspiring guidance about how to proceed. One day, Swamiji pulled Haridas and me aside to give us that sage council. This was the only advice that he ever gave us about how to proceed. Swamiji said, "Boys, keep the place clean!"

Chapter XII: Where There is Dharma, There is Victory

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We faced the possibility of economic failure, but we chose, instead, to find the faith and conviction that our efforts to establish a spiritual community were based on truth, and that, ultimately, we would succeed. Ananda community had grown up.
We had taken the opportunity to leave behind our failed experiments, to learn from our mistakes, and to rebuild the community in a way that better reflected our spiritual ideals.
At the conclusion of Nalini’s India story she writes, “I came back home with a great sense of urgency about Ananda’s role in the years ahead, for Yogananda has said that “world brotherhood colonies” will be the social pattern of the future. I feel grateful to be part of the Ananda community, which represents a solution to both the economic and spiritual needs of so many people at this time.”
Through trial by fire, we realized that we had at last achieved the foundation of community — a group of people working cooperatively toward a goal of shared ideals. We were at last beginning to fulfill Yogananda’s and Kriyananda’s dream of a place where people could seek God among friends of like mind, where one’s outer life could support one’s inner spiritual efforts.