The journey we each are on is our research, and it should be shared. In this way, we can find out what we have in common in our development, and what may be divergent from the norm. In fact, we are finding the divergences to be far less than have been believed. The divergences have been mostly manmade. The human nervous system is the same everywhere, and its capabilities for purification and opening to divine experience are also the same. So, what do we not have in common? Perhaps our culture and religion, and the variations in methods that have been handed down to us. But, in the end, we are all working on the same project, no matter where we have come from or what tools we are using.

From Yogani’s Eight Limbs of Yoga: The Structure and Pacing of Self-Directed Spiritual Practices, Nashville, Tennessee, and London, England: AYP Publishing, 2008, p. 90.

Addendum (January 23, 2019)

The idea of service has been with me for quite a long time, but the first time I spelled it out in no uncertain terms was just after my fall in the Alps, which I miraculously survived (“The Idea of Service,” August 17, 2001). The idea surfaced again nearly a decade after my retirement, but only a day after this propitious preface was penned (“The Idea of Service, Again,” September 7, 2012). The following year, I pinned my service down at long last by declaring that I was in the service of those who are dedicated to the service of others (“The Idea of Service, Again and Again,” May 6, 2013). Amazingly enough, Yogani responded to my ruminations about service soon after I sent him my book about yoga, and his thoughts can be found in the addendum to the last piece cited. Given that service is not defined by anyone or anything, he argued kindly, it is ultimately up to my own reckoning. Ever since, I conceive of the selection from my Residua dedicated to yoga as my gift to the chosen few (“The Chicken,” May 26, 2016). In retrospect, Yogani has provided both a preface and a conclusion to my book about yoga. And I remain grateful to him till my last breath.