In November 2007 I decided to go off in search of Swami Satyananda to interview him for a film I had been making about Love. A couple of years before I had a band called the International Love Corporation and was writing songs the whole time about the subject of love but then had some kind of existential crisis and realized I didn't really know what I singing about. I decided I needed to go to India to make some deep enquiries. I had never been before.
On my first trip I came across one of Swami Satyananda's books after spending a night trying to astral travel in my room in Rishikesh-one has to try these things. When I mentioned my (unsuccessful) attempts to someone the next day they suggested I get a book on Yoga Nidra by the Bihar School of Yoga. I got it, read it, loved it. I looked at the author, Swami Satyananda, whose picture was there on the inner sleeve, and presumed he had long since passed away. I saw the other pictures, of Swami Niranjan, his successor, and Swami Satsangi, his disciple. Impressive, fearsome almost. I read about the Bihar School and thought how serious it all looked, how that was one place I would never go to, how it was way too high for me.
I read a couple more things Swami Satyananda had written and then realized he was still alive and living in isolation in Rikhia. When I went back to Rishikesh the following year I rang up the Rikhia ashram after a strange experience with another Swami and an exploding chair in the Sivananda ashram where Swami Satyananda had spent much of his life as a disciple of Sivananda himself. I asked if I could come to Rikhia and meet Swami Satyananda. They told me in no uncertain terms to get lost, but after calling again and again they finally invited me over to spend christmas there but assured me there was no way I would meet him because he didn't come out to speak to anyone. However I couldn't take them up on their invite coz I had to fly back to the UK.
I spent the following year reading his books, wondering if I had missed my chance, sometimes feeling like something was calling me to Rikhia, other times thinking I was playing the grandest illusions upon myself, that it was another example of how these trips to India sent my mind spinning into madness. I asked for a sign..."Swami, shall I come back to India, shall I come and find you?"....Nothing.
Then in November a bizarre set of circumstances gave me that sign. First I got an email from my mum, forwarded from a friend of hers, that the Sat Chandi Mahayajna festival was taking place in Rikhia and it would be one of the few chances to see Swami Satyananda. "Isn't this the guy you've been going on about?" she asked. At the same time my dad won a free flight in a Emirates Airline draw at an Arsenal Chelsea football match. My dad was ill at the time and wasn't in a position to travel so I jumped on my chance and persuaded him to give me his ticket. I called the ashram in Rikhia and pretended that I knew Swami Pragyamurti, an esteemed figure in the UK branch of Satyananda Yoga, and they told me I could come. I didn't make any reference to my previous calls there.
I deliberately booked a ticket for 10 days so I could leave Rikhia before the festival started (I wasn't in the mood to get involved in a crazy Indian festival) and jumped on a plane but forgot to bring any cash with me. When I arrived my ATM card got blocked and I couldn't even pay for the taxi from the airport. I was already questioning the wisdom of my mission and contemplated going straight home again but I found a friend in Calcutta who leant me some money and I made it up to Rikhia, arriving into a very austere atmosphere, surrounded by Yogis (I am a musician by trade) and I felt like I had to pretend I was one of them. I didn't tell anyone I had a camera with me but mentioned I had come in the hope of finding Swami Satyananda and people literally laughed at me and told me I had absolutely no chance.
I spent three days walking around figuring that if Swami Satyananda was that highly developed he'd probably be able to hear my thoughts, so I kept calling for him to come out in my head. And then suddenly he appeared, on his own but for a couple of other Swamis. I went running up to him, explained who I was and that I was making a film on love. He said he wouldn't speak directly on the camera but I could interview his disciple Swami Satsangi on behalf of him. It took a few more days to pin down Satsangi and I finally did an interview with her on the morning I was leaving. Then, as I was literally walking out the gate and into the Rickshaw I got a call back saying Satsangi wanted to see me again. I thought she might be unhappy with interview but she was sitting there with Swami Niranjan, to whom Swami Satyananda had passed on all responsibilities after he went into isolation, and together they told me they would like me to come back and film the festival for them.
By this point many of the people I had met who had assured me I would never get close to Swami Satyananda were staring open mouthed at my meeting and wondering what on earth was going on! To be honest I didn't really know myself but I explained to the Swamis that I had to get back to london. The real truth was that I had a fixed flight back and had no money to change it.
When I got back to Calcutta I checked my bank balance and found that someone had paid a large sum of money into my account- I've never discovered where it came from-but I booked another flight, flew home, and 5 days later I was back in Rikhia.
When I got back I spent everyday filming Satyananda. Sometimes it was just me, Swami Satyananda, Niranjan and Satsangi there together. And I thought of that time I was looking at their pictures in the bookshop and wondered how I got here. They gave me unparalleled access to the festival but left me to discover it for myself. It was extremely intense. The festival was dedicated to Chandi, the Devi Ma, and at one point Swami Satsangi came up to me and told me that she thought I had been sent, by the Devi, for them! That comment BLEW my mind. They opened up their arms, let me in with such love, trusted me completely. A high point in one's life? Most certainly. And I knew at that point that I had to make this film as good as I possibly good. To honour that trust.
I've spent the next year and a half, on and off, editing this film, trying to represent the festival and the work they do in Rikhia alongside the subject of love, how it all entwines. It certainly been an interesting time and I wasn't quite prepared for the powerful effect that experience would have on my life. But I hope I have made a film that does justice to all the subjects concerned, that honours the magic of this journey with the humour and lightness that I feel is appropriate.
So there it is....Love and the Art of Giving.
On my first trip I came across one of Swami Satyananda's books after spending a night trying to astral travel in my room in Rishikesh-one has to try these things. When I mentioned my (unsuccessful) attempts to someone the next day they suggested I get a book on Yoga Nidra by the Bihar School of Yoga. I got it, read it, loved it. I looked at the author, Swami Satyananda, whose picture was there on the inner sleeve, and presumed he had long since passed away. I saw the other pictures, of Swami Niranjan, his successor, and Swami Satsangi, his disciple. Impressive, fearsome almost. I read about the Bihar School and thought how serious it all looked, how that was one place I would never go to, how it was way too high for me.
I read a couple more things Swami Satyananda had written and then realized he was still alive and living in isolation in Rikhia. When I went back to Rishikesh the following year I rang up the Rikhia ashram after a strange experience with another Swami and an exploding chair in the Sivananda ashram where Swami Satyananda had spent much of his life as a disciple of Sivananda himself. I asked if I could come to Rikhia and meet Swami Satyananda. They told me in no uncertain terms to get lost, but after calling again and again they finally invited me over to spend christmas there but assured me there was no way I would meet him because he didn't come out to speak to anyone. However I couldn't take them up on their invite coz I had to fly back to the UK.
I spent the following year reading his books, wondering if I had missed my chance, sometimes feeling like something was calling me to Rikhia, other times thinking I was playing the grandest illusions upon myself, that it was another example of how these trips to India sent my mind spinning into madness. I asked for a sign..."Swami, shall I come back to India, shall I come and find you?"....Nothing.
Then in November a bizarre set of circumstances gave me that sign. First I got an email from my mum, forwarded from a friend of hers, that the Sat Chandi Mahayajna festival was taking place in Rikhia and it would be one of the few chances to see Swami Satyananda. "Isn't this the guy you've been going on about?" she asked. At the same time my dad won a free flight in a Emirates Airline draw at an Arsenal Chelsea football match. My dad was ill at the time and wasn't in a position to travel so I jumped on my chance and persuaded him to give me his ticket. I called the ashram in Rikhia and pretended that I knew Swami Pragyamurti, an esteemed figure in the UK branch of Satyananda Yoga, and they told me I could come. I didn't make any reference to my previous calls there.
I deliberately booked a ticket for 10 days so I could leave Rikhia before the festival started (I wasn't in the mood to get involved in a crazy Indian festival) and jumped on a plane but forgot to bring any cash with me. When I arrived my ATM card got blocked and I couldn't even pay for the taxi from the airport. I was already questioning the wisdom of my mission and contemplated going straight home again but I found a friend in Calcutta who leant me some money and I made it up to Rikhia, arriving into a very austere atmosphere, surrounded by Yogis (I am a musician by trade) and I felt like I had to pretend I was one of them. I didn't tell anyone I had a camera with me but mentioned I had come in the hope of finding Swami Satyananda and people literally laughed at me and told me I had absolutely no chance.
I spent three days walking around figuring that if Swami Satyananda was that highly developed he'd probably be able to hear my thoughts, so I kept calling for him to come out in my head. And then suddenly he appeared, on his own but for a couple of other Swamis. I went running up to him, explained who I was and that I was making a film on love. He said he wouldn't speak directly on the camera but I could interview his disciple Swami Satsangi on behalf of him. It took a few more days to pin down Satsangi and I finally did an interview with her on the morning I was leaving. Then, as I was literally walking out the gate and into the Rickshaw I got a call back saying Satsangi wanted to see me again. I thought she might be unhappy with interview but she was sitting there with Swami Niranjan, to whom Swami Satyananda had passed on all responsibilities after he went into isolation, and together they told me they would like me to come back and film the festival for them.
By this point many of the people I had met who had assured me I would never get close to Swami Satyananda were staring open mouthed at my meeting and wondering what on earth was going on! To be honest I didn't really know myself but I explained to the Swamis that I had to get back to london. The real truth was that I had a fixed flight back and had no money to change it.
When I got back to Calcutta I checked my bank balance and found that someone had paid a large sum of money into my account- I've never discovered where it came from-but I booked another flight, flew home, and 5 days later I was back in Rikhia.
When I got back I spent everyday filming Satyananda. Sometimes it was just me, Swami Satyananda, Niranjan and Satsangi there together. And I thought of that time I was looking at their pictures in the bookshop and wondered how I got here. They gave me unparalleled access to the festival but left me to discover it for myself. It was extremely intense. The festival was dedicated to Chandi, the Devi Ma, and at one point Swami Satsangi came up to me and told me that she thought I had been sent, by the Devi, for them! That comment BLEW my mind. They opened up their arms, let me in with such love, trusted me completely. A high point in one's life? Most certainly. And I knew at that point that I had to make this film as good as I possibly good. To honour that trust.
I've spent the next year and a half, on and off, editing this film, trying to represent the festival and the work they do in Rikhia alongside the subject of love, how it all entwines. It certainly been an interesting time and I wasn't quite prepared for the powerful effect that experience would have on my life. But I hope I have made a film that does justice to all the subjects concerned, that honours the magic of this journey with the humour and lightness that I feel is appropriate.
So there it is....Love and the Art of Giving.
