The shows last weekend included long drives at the beginning and the end. I drove nine hours up to Eugene on Wednesday, and then 11 hours from Portland on Sunday. At the last minute before the trip, I thought of downloading an audio book, and chose Autobiography of a Yogi, which was something that had been on my reading list for a long time, and it seemed like the perfect length for the drives. Which it was, as I finished on the return trip as I was passing through Redding.
The book was the first one written for the West by an Indian spiritual master. I love the film footage of Yogananda arriving in America in 1920, a sari-swathed, long-haired guru walking sandal shod through the streets of New York City. In a way, I feel that people were more open then. He was such an anomaly that folks seemed to welcome and celebrate him, and he was able to meet people and pretty instantly start spreading his teachings of Indian spirituality.