September 26, 2022
I recently finished reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda.
It tells the life story of Yogananda, who was born and grew up in India, trained under his guru Sri Yukteswar, and then traveled to the United States to train “the west” in the ways of kriya yoga.
The story recounts in bold, assertive, and unflinching language the miracles that Yagananda witnessed throughout his time in India being trained by spiritual and enlightened gurus.
- There were spiritual masters who lived hundreds of years.
- There were spiritual masters who never died.
- There were spiritual masters who caused objects—even entire palaces—to materialize out of nothing.
- There were masters who had knowledge of things that they should not have, such as matters of the future.
- There were masters who knew exactly their time of death and when they would reappear in their next incarnation on earth (and who they would be).
At the end of the book, it’s even said that when Yogananda passed away (he knew precisely when it would happen, too), his body was kept for an entire month and it never decayed.
Basically, it’s the kind of the book that I wouldn’t have read shortly after my deconversion from religion. Back then, I wasn’t ready to entertain anything “supernatural” and needed to spend some time reflecting on how the world around me was grounded in the principles and laws of science.
But, as I’ve said many times before on this website, I’ve gotten to the point where I’m more than comfortable entertaining other possibilities. I’ve opened myself up to a few spiritual beliefs and practices, and am more curious about the spiritual experiences of others. I kept hearing this book recommended by people who have robust spiritual lives, and now that I’ve read it, and I can see why they enjoy it.
Not that long ago, I wrote an article called Smarter & Wiser People Might Not Bother With You.
In it, I tried hard to articulate something that Yogananda succinctly summed up in a single passage in his autobiography. This is what he wrote:
“All great prophets have remained silent when requested to unveil the ultimate secrets. When Pilate asked: “What is truth?” Christ made no reply. The large ostentatious questions of intellectualists like Pilate seldom proceed from a burning spirit of inquiry. Such men speak rather with the empty arrogance that considers a lack of conviction about spiritual values to be a sign of “open-mindedness.”
Perfect. He said in a handful of words what I spent an entire article trying to get out.
Many people who don’t believe in or consider anything outside of their five-sense reality and what science tells them exists will often try to stick it to “spiritual types” and not get a response. When the staunch, materialist atheist doesn’t get a response, he takes that as confirmation that the “spiritual type” is lying. But really, the staunch materialist atheist is too wrapped up in his own bullshit to recognize that the “spiritual type” has merely declined to have the conversation with him simply because of what Yoganada described above. What’s the point? The staunch materialist atheist isn’t really asking; he’s only trying to confirm his existing viewpoint. He isn’t curious. It isn’t a real question.
Further, the “spiritual type” has long understood that explaining spiritual matters to a materialist atheist won’t do any good. Kind of like how trying to help deconvert someone after you yourself have deconverted is often a waste of time and effort.
This concept is not only for discussions about spiritual matters. This phenomenon can happen in pretty much any subject in which some close-minded skeptical person demands a response from someone not out of a sense of curiosity, but as an attempt to reconfirm his own biases.
- “Why are you invested in that?”
- “Why would you travel there?”
- “Why do you conduct your relationship like that?”
- “Why do you take advice from that person?”
- “Why do you (or do you not) eat those certain things?”
- “Why do you think that is the best course of action?”
- “Why are you interested in that subject?”
- “Why do you read those kinds of books?”
- “Why do you vote that way?”
All of those questions (plus many more) can either be said with a spirit of open and earnest curiosity or with a judgmental, critical attitude seeking to only confirm what you already think and believe.
I’ve said before that a healthy sense of curiosity is one of the greatest things you can nurture and develop, particularly if you’re a recently-deconverted man. When you leave a fundamentalist religion and re-enter a world and reality that is more closely aligned to the Truth, then you, in my opinion, pretty much have no choice but to keep your mind open. You got it wrong so badly before, and for much of your life; what makes you think you’re suddenly so correct about everything now?
Close mindedness, being judgmental, and refusing to be open are character traits of most Evangelical Christians. Why would you want that to continue after leaving that religion?