DEDICATION

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

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

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

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

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

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.