Dan Menkin

*** For professional biographical information, please go to page 227+ in the book Transformation Through Bodywork (see Kindle book description for how).

*** The following biographical information is in the form of a short story written in India c. 2010 and is called "Meeting a Semi-Sadhu." It is the last chapter in the book, "'Upon a Time Tales." (The term Sadhu in India refers to someone who has given up their worldly life for service and meditation. Gangotri is in the Indian Himalaya.)

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When I arrived at the guesthouse in Gangotri, he was sitting in the dirt removing rocks from a flowerbed. In the following weeks, we spoke occasionally, and I learned that this retired American was now living in India, heart glowing with love for his adopted Bharat Mata. We adored the majestic snow mountains together, and soon I too came to see the nearby Ganga as a living presence, an ever-dancing spirit in the form of a Sacred River.

“Don’t you miss America and your life there?” I asked him once. “Not really,” he replied smiling, and added, “My family is all right here: Lord Shiva, Mother Durga, Lord Ganesh, Saraswati Maa, Lakshmi Devi, Sita and Ram, Lord Krishna . . . And here in the high mountain air, it feels like any moment I could look up and see Lord Shiva sitting atop a snow-peak, Mother Parveti on His thigh, smiling and beckoning me to come to Them. I’m where I belong . . . I’m home!”

I asked about his past, how he came to be here. He told of an average post WWII childhood, liking school, college, then working in business administration. He “dropped-out” in the hippie days, playing with new age consciousness, trying drugs, enjoying “free” sex, and eventually meeting his Guru of many lifetimes and remembering why he had taken this birth.

He paused, and I felt a wave of sadness radiate from him. Eyes moist, he said, “I lived in my Guru’s American ashram for four years, thinking that I was almost enlightened. He allowed me several years of indulging this fantasy, then more intensively reflected to me my weaknesses, pride, arrogance, cruelty, and overall selfishness. I kept promising that I would do better, would change, let-go of me-centered living and become truly spiritual. His frequent Satsangs [spiritual discourses] left no doubt as to what genuine spirituality required of a sincere seeker, and I longed to be purified and live in that Unbound Consciousness told of by all the Great Ones. But instead of letting go, ego held on tighter and tighter, while spirit longed more and more to fly. This culminated in a near-psychotic breakdown and leaving the ashram.

“It took several years,” he continued, to adjust to living “in the world” once more and integrating his spiritual values with the activities of daily life. For the next two decades he tried various livelihoods, social services, and relationships, continuing morning sitting practice and yoga as a bare-bones link with his spiritual goal. Life was good, it seemed, yet depressions were frequent, and he could not overcome the feeling of distance he had created with his Guru.

When he began to despair of ever getting out of this comfortable, mostly pleasant life, his 81 year old mother became ill and was clearly nearing her end. “By God’s Grace,” he said, he was then able to terminate his life on one side of the country and move to the other to live with her and help in her final year. “So much healing then,” he sighed, finishing “old business,” enjoying each other’s company, and caring for her as she had cared for him a half-century earlier.

Then thud, . . . she was gone. The childhood house was sold, and with his inheritance he’s been living simply ever since. The following year his Guru left His body and became even more all-pervading, available as the still-small voice within to guide, inform, and Love. Meditation practice became more and more important; worldly concerns reduced. His re-married father was still there, though, and growing weaker. Finally he too passed on, and two days later he heard an inner voice saying, “You are moving to India.” Never had he thought of going to India alone, yet after 30 years of drinking that culture’s wisdom traditions, he couldn’t resist. His inner Guru even specified leaving six months hence, leaving lots of time to learn and do what was needed and to prepare emotionally. Then arrival in Western-friendly Dharamsala, half a year of adjusting to living in the Himalayan foothills, and finally settling into life along the river Ganga, winters in Uttarkashi, summers in Gangotri, both places his Guru had done sadhana [spiritual practices] 60 years earlier.

“Practice is so much easier here, so much richer and supported by the very land and air,” he said. “And always I hear Mother Ganga nearby, singing to me as She has called to seekers since time immemorial: Come Home, child. . . . Flow with me to the Infinite Ocean of Light!

“So I live as a semi-sadhu,” he concluded. “My desires are few and easily met, my days revolve around sitting practice, watching mind, prayer, Satsang, and longing to see my Guru once more and finally dissolving into His unfathomable Light and Love. When I can’t sit any longer, I come out here and work in the garden, feeling in rocks, soil, and plants similar transformations to the changes I believe He is making in this child. As the Himalayan sun and rain work their magic on my green friends, so too is His Love coaxing this soul-bud to blossom, to lose its hardness and open to the Divine Beauty waiting to unfold.”

He became quiet then, and I sensed our visit was complete. The next day urgent business called me back to the city, and when I returned the following summer, he had moved on. Sitting in front of my room, gazing out at the laughing sea of flowers before me, I remembered our conversations, . . . and smiled.

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(Though intending to spend the remainder of his life in India, a few years after this was written, his legal status as a resident there became uncertain and he moved back to the U.S. He continues his semi-Sadhu life in the woods near Boston and can be reached via a Facebook message)