Loyalty to One’s Satguru
A devotee on the path who has a satguru should not seek darshan from another guru unless he has permission from his own guru to do so. Why? Because he should not become psychically connected with the other guru. The darshan develops inner psychic bonds. Another guru does not want to influence the unfoldment of the aspirant either. However, if he has permission to absorb darshan from someone else, then of course, there has been an inner agreement between the two gurus that no connection will result, and the disciple will not be distracted from his sādhana by conflicting new methods.
It is not good for a student on the path to run around to various teachers and lecturers and gain reams of miscellaneous knowledge about the path and related occultism. He becomes magnetically attached to the students of the various teachers and sometimes to the teachers themselves. The teachers do not like this “browsing” on the part of the guru-hopper either, for it impairs the unfoldment of their own students, as it goes against the natural flow of unfoldment on the path. It is also energy draining and time-consuming for the guru or swāmī.
One must look at spiritual unfoldment in the same way one approaches the study of a fine art. If you were studying the vīṇā with a very accomplished teacher, he would not appreciate it at all if you went to three or four other teachers at the same time for study behind his back. He demands that you come and go from your lesson and practice diligently in between. By this faithful and loyal obedience, you would become so satisfied with the results of your unfolding talents that you would not want to run here and there to check out what other maestros were teaching and become acquainted with their students. Students run from teacher to teacher only when they do not obey the teacher they have.
The wise guru or swāmī who takes his mission seriously and knows human nature to its core makes it very difficult for a devotee who departed his fellowship to later return. First he requires a detailed written explanation of the reasons for leaving, and a full written confession as to what occurred during the time away. This is all verified through background checks and in-depth personal interviews. Then, to test the sincerity, penance, prāyaśchitta, is given and performed before readmittance can even be considered. Upon hearing of these soul-searching procedures (known as vrātyastoma), most will bow out without a word and seek less demanding groups, thus proving their insincerity. These time-proven methods prevent detractors from returning to further disrupt the group from the inside more effectively than they could from the outside. If the seeker is qualified to be readmitted after completing his prāyaśchitta, he must begin at the beginning study level and be given no special privileges, positions or recognition in respect for his prior association. The protection of the fellowship is of utmost importance for the benefit of each devotee, and for the continuing spiritual unfoldment of the guru or swāmī himself. One should not be so naive to think that disgruntled former devotees would not seek reentrance for the purpose of disrupting the organization, or be sent on a mission from an adversarial group to rejoin in order to disrupt. All this and more has happened to gurus and swāmīs since the turn of the century.
There are three kinds of gurus that are traditionally available to guide the soul. The first, of course, are the parents. Next is the family guru, or a guru chosen by the children. The third guru, often the most suave, the most attractive, but in reality always the most demanding, is Viśvaguruji Mahā-Mahārāj. He does live up to his name in all ways, for viśva means “everything and everyone in the world,” and guru, of course, means “teacher.” Mahārāj is “great ruler.” Viśvaguruji, as I call him, seemingly teaches so patiently, yet accepts no excuses and remains unforgivingly exacting in his lessons. Everyone living on this planet has a guru, whether they know it or not.
When the world becomes the teacher, the lessons can be rough or enticing, unloving or endearing, unpleasant or full of temptuous, temporary happiness. The world is relentless in its challenges, in the rewards it offers, the scars it leaves and the healing it neglects. The unrelenting Viśvaguruji works surreptitiously through the people you meet, as past-life karmas unfold into this life. He never gives direct advice or guidance, but leaves the lessons from each experience to be discovered or never discovered. His sūtra is “Learn by your own mistakes.” His way of teaching is through unexpected happenings and untimely events, which are timely from his point of view. Unnecessary karmas are created while the old ones that were supposed to be eliminated smolder, waiting patiently for still another birth. Pleasure and pain are among his effective methods of instruction. Viśvagurujī is the teacher of all who turn their backs on parents, elders, teachers, gurus or swāmīs, laws and traditions of all kinds. It is not a lingering wonder why someone who once abandoned a loving guru or swāmī would want to return from the world and go through the vrātyastoma reentrance procedures, no matter what it takes.