On Friday evening after finishing work in the government, we would change our clothes at a community centre and with a car (which we termed the "divinemobile") often packed with other disciples and their children sprawled across our laps, we would head down for the ten- to twelve-hour drive to New York (depending on how many long stops we made).

In the early days of our discipleship on Guru’s path in the 1980s, Guru was running many of the races with other running groups. We never knew exactly where Guru would be on Saturday morning, but we would call ahead and often drive to whatever race Guru was running. We never had directions but somehow we would just drive around looking for Guru until he got us to the right place at the right time. We would literally crawl out of the car, having driven all night, put our running shoes on and line up at the starting line with Guru and run whatever race Guru was running.

The 10-kilometre race in Prospect Park was supposed to start at 10:00, but it started at 11:10. When the police came, I thought they were going to disperse us and throw us out. But then they made an announcement that when the police car came a second time, the race would start.

When we started the race, I was absolutely the last person. A young girl went ahead of me and told me that she was not going to be last. What an insult! But after two or three hundred metres, she surrendered.

Then, after 600 metres, whom did I see? Vince! He was my first rival. I was watching him and watching him, following him very faithfully. After 1200 metres I saluted him and passed him.

Sri Chinmoy
4 June 1983 1

A number of times after the run Guru would go to a mall. I recall that often we only knew he was going to a mall, but we had no idea what mall it was! Again we would set out looking for Guru, and inevitably Guru would round us all up in the same place, lining the hallway of the mall, enjoying our Guru in this unique way. The weekend would often entail one other race the next day and a spiritual function with medi- tation, songs and plays on Saturday and Sunday afternoons and evenings. After the Sunday night function at Progress-Promise" we would all pile back in the car for the drive back home, filled to the brim with joy and spiritual fullness of heart. Then we would crawl out of the car and go to work Monday morning only to repeat the weekly sojourn to NY the next weekend.

We were really blessed by these experiences and Guru never ceased to compliment the Canadians for their devotion to their spiritual lives and to their Guru. There are many stories that could be told about would-be accidents that never occurred thanks to the divine Grace.

During those years we really learned the value of self-transcendence on Guru’s spiritual path. This was only one of the myriad ways that Guru encouraged all of us to go beyond our present capacities. Every time I extended myself for a spiritual cause, I always felt a new, clear energy and freedom. Self-transcendence is definitely one of the most important concepts that Guru made very real in our lives and which I really try to continue practicing to this day!

Not only did we drive to New York and back almost every weekend for ten years, but often we followed Guru on his American concert tours, for example to Chicago, Rhode Island, Boston, Philadelphia and so on, almost always with very sketchy directions, at best. Most of the time it was better to have no directions at all than the ones disciples typed out for us! Paramita once suggested, on our way to Chicago, that a real map might come in handy. I figured that any RCMP officer worth his salt didn’t need a map! Anyway, through thousands of miles of driving through sleet and snow, Guru always seemed to get us where we needed to go, map or not.

I never knew that my RCMP days of driving around looking for speeders and other law-breakers would take a spiritual turn. Never did I dream that years later I would be driving literally tens of thousands of miles a year looking for my spiritual Guru.

'The Banana Scouts' for the Canoe Trip

One year, Paramita was looking for a new venue for camping for our annual Canadian canoe trio and I knew of a river in New Brunswick that, from what I remembered, might be the perfect camping place. So Hiranmoyi and I drove to Edmunson, New Brunswick, with the 'yellow banana' canoe on our roof rack. There we hooked up with the park warden, and he explained that the river was now faster-moving than it used to be. We decided, in spite of the river’s conditions, to scout it out anyway for a canoe trip. He took us to an entry point and we arranged to have him pick us up in a couple of days. Then the fun began!

Let’s just put it this way: we were caught in the flow of a set of rapids and we were almost capsized on many occasions. As I recall, Hiranmoyi’s contribution to the effort was chanting “Supreme, Supreme, Supreme" at least a thousand times, while I hopped in and out trying to prevent the canoe from capsizing in the rapids. At some point we ended up in a fishing camp where the water was very still, and we rested for the night. We arrived back at our van two days later completely exhausted from the entire undertaking, and needless to say we had long before concluded that this was not an option for the canoe trip!

Now the story continues. About ten minutes after we got into the car, leave it to Hiranmoyi to say, “How far is it from here to New York?" I replied, “At least 15 hours." Without missing a beat, and with the canoe on the car roof, we called Ashrita to find out what was happening the next day in New York and then left from Fredericton. We drove all night until we reached a park outside Queens, where Guru was running a half-marathon. We spotted Niriha’s head poking out of a car with her camera, and then we knew we were in the right place. We dragged ourselves out of the car, put on our shoes and Hiranmoyi joined the start of the run and completed it.

Her time for the half-marathon was 2:11! We were later told that, at the start, Guru had seen us and said, “I thought Vince and Susan were in Canada this weekend." That’s how much aspiration and energy we had in those days – we would just pick up and do the impossible whenever we received an inner prompting from Guru!

Saved by an Inner Voice

One day we were coming back to Queens, driving along the Grand Central service road, when I clearly heard Hiranmoyi’s voice scream, “Vince, turn now!" Acting upon her command, I swerved the car to the right and prevented a car that was running a red light from hitting me broadside on the driver’s side. Hiranmoyi knew nothing about the oncoming car, nor did she outwardly call out to me, but the Supreme used her voice to warn me of impending disaster. Our car had minor damage, but nothing like it would have been. Very shaken, we immediately parked the car and inwardly expressed our sincere gratitude for having been saved in such a miraculous way.

A $1 Bill Means a Million!

In the early days I used to drive all night to New York and then come in to the Smile of the Beyond to peel vegetables at 4 or 5 a.m. Since I was a (very part-time) Smile worker, I had the privilege of passing by Guru when he was visiting the Smile and putting out my hand like the other boys did. Guru pressed a new $1 bill in my hand. I literally felt like a 7-year-old boy with a million bucks!

A Grown Man Forced to the Point of Tears

For the last ten years of working in the government, all I could think of was our comings and goings to New York or wherever Guru was in the world. One time, as a 50-year-old, I sat in front of my boss and actually cried when he told me that I could not take time off work to go to the spiritual retreat or “Celebrations." My boss finally let me go, but he told me that I would have to quit my job if any problems with “the system" for which I was responsible occurred in my absence. Fortunately nothing happened, which just goes to prove that, if you do the right thing, everything else falls into place.

I was able to take early retirement from the government at the age of 54, and shortly after that Guru gave me a new job, a much more desirable and challenging job, when he told me to swim the English Channel. No retirement for me!

• 1. Sri Chinmoy, Run and become, become and run, part 14, Agni Press, 1985

All my life I have had too many names! I was born in Windsor, Ontario in 1932 of parents who had emigrated from Slovenia when they were in their 20s. When I was born, I was christened Srecko Vincent, following my Slovenian heritage. Then when I went to be enrolled in school, the teacher said that they couldn’t call me Srecko because the kids would make fun of me. The teacher asked my mother what the English translation of Srecko would be and my mother said Felix. The teacher interpreted what my mother said (with her strong accent) as Phillip. Hence my new name at school was Phillip and soon even my family called me Phillip. This was not to last forever, because when I joined the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and had to present authentic identification, my name again was Srecko Vincent and I became known as Vince, except when I was sent official documents, in which case I was Srecko.

Little did I know that much later I would become Trishakash, my spiritual name, which is the subject of a later story. Even today, I am known by my friends and some family as Trishakash, by most others as Vince and in some cases Phillip, and by the government as Srecko. If you wonder why I am confused as to who I am, now you know!

The Pot-Bellied Stove

When I think of my years growing up, I have fond memories of my mother and father and of the things we did together. The first memory I have is a beautiful and loving memory of my mother, who, early in the morning in the winter, would warm a flannelette blanket by the pot-bellied stove, and then come into our rooms, and pick us up out of bed with the warm blanket and sit us by the stove for breakfast. What luxury and love! Other memories that have lasted the decades include the family Christmas tree that had actual, real candles that we would burn (there was always a pail of water available by the tree in case of an accident). Even though we didn’t have much money, every payday Dad would buy fruit or some special candy for my mother, who would in turn share it with my brother, my sister and me. We would watch out the window for Dad to come with those tasty treats!

Mom would bake special breads every Saturday, and we would wait for that bread to come hot out of the oven and have it sliced, with real homemade butter. It was always a family “ceremony" of sorts when Mom would prepare the kitchen for making strudel or other Slovenian delicacies. On Saturday, after Mom washed the kitchen floor and waxed it, she would wrap towels around our feet and have us skate on the kitchen floor to shine it up. We had so much fun in our family and the foundation of that was the beautiful relationship between my mother and father! Wherever one went, the other was not far behind. There was nothing but goodness that I remember from my childhood. If there was anything else, the goodness definitely overshadows it.

No More Melons!

I spent my early years of public school in the snowy northern Ontario mining town of Timmins, where my father worked as a miner. When I entered high school, my family moved to Grimsby in southern Ontario to a fruit farm. There were so many children of farmers at the school that they let us children stay out of school during the harvest season in order to help our parents. I loved working on the farm because of working side by side with my mother, my father, and my brother, all of whom I really loved. It was nice just being with them. Also, the physical work of fruit farming was very rewarding and taught me how to extend myself and transcend my physical capacity. I never minded hard work and I loved the sense of well-being that came from having pushed myself to the limits. This later came in very handy when Sri Chinmoy's philosophy of self-transcendence would play an important role in my life.

When I was sixteen years old, my dad took my brother and me to the tobacco farms and arranged for us to get a job picking tobacco to make extra money. This was quite an experience since tobacco-picking is a very dirty job, because of the tar. Your hands got blackened with the tar, and hence salaries for picking tobacco were higher. We had to get up at 4 a.m. to empty the kilns (where the tobacco leaves were dried) and I remember they served us huge helpings of a "farmer’s breakfast", which I loved! Also, we had to live with the older men in the barracks, and because a lot of the men were of the rough-and-tumble type, you had to be tough also to hold your own. That summer I developed a strong sense of being myself and being true to my own values..

During my farming years, one day I was helping load melons onto a freight car and I ate so many melons that day and I was so sick afterwards, that I haven’t ever enjoyed melon to this day! However, the thought of myself sitting on that truck gorging on melons makes me really chuckle!

My love of music really developed beautifully during my high school days. We Slovenian boys organized a small band in which I played the violin and we used to compete in movie theatres. Almost always we won first prize because we were very unique and from the local area, and popular with all the people. Later on, when I was in my 20s, we continued to play at Slovenian weddings in our community and everyone loved us! Little did I know that one day I would be enjoying spiritual music composed by my spiritual Master himself.

Early Spiritual Introductions

When I was about 19 years old and living with my parents on the farm in Grimsby, there was an older lady who lived on a lot on our property right down by Lake Ontario. One day we started talking about God and my skeptical attitude and she introduced me to the Teachings of the Masters of the Far East series of books. She gave me these books as a gift because she thought I would benefit from them, and I carried these books with me for over 50 years. This was the beginning of my spiritual search, which led me in directions I never would have dreamed.

Joining the Mounties

When I was 20 years old I was working on the tobacco farms in Delhi when I saw the farm workers rioting and wrecking the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) cars, and I thought at that time that the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) would not have allowed that kind of behavior to be permitted. At about that time, I decided that I should join the RCMP. My parents were very proud to think of one of their sons even attempting such a special profession.

So I made an application in Toronto and eventually they accepted my application and I started my “RCMP days". It was very interesting being considered a member of the RCMP and interacting with some of the older guys who had been around for a long time. They had so many stories to tell. Over my five-year career in the RCMP, I too, collected a few experiences and cute stories that I will now tell.

At 20 years of age, I signed up for five years in theRCMP, with a salary of $120 a month. Among our daily chores, we had to clean out all of the horse stables – which was a smelly proposition at best! In training we used to have to climb a rope right to the ceiling and put a tick mark beside our name to verify that we had done it. In marching, I considered it an honor that I was chosen to be the head guy in our squad, “the Marker," which is a significant task in formations. I loved everything about the discipline of the training days in the RCMP, and this love of discipline followed me all the rest of my life, something for which I am extremely grateful. I have received so much joy from discipline, particularly as it concerns physical fitness and hard work.

In my RCMP training days I was the squad leader because of my deportment, good marching form and dependability. Overall when we graduated, I stood third in my class, and on graduation day, I had a terrific feeling that such an honor had been granted me. To put on the uniform with the Stetson hat and riding breeches was a very exhilarating feeling. My parents were extremely proud and pleased, particularly in that they were immigrants from Yugoslavia to Canada. Of course they bragged to all their friends. After my graduation, they had a big party for me at home and all my chums gathered to congratulate me.

Ego-transcending experiences

Upon graduation, I was transferred to Vancouver and that was the beginning of being assigned to a detachment doing street patrol in North Vancouver. Once, our assignment was to patrol a dance hall. During that patrol we went into a car that had liquor in it and as a result, when we tried to make some arrests,

Upon graduation, I was transferred to Vancouver and that was the beginning of being assigned to a detachment doing street patrol in North Vancouver. Once, our assignment was to patrol a dance hall. During that patrol we went into a car that had liquor in it and as a result, when we tried to make some arrests, the driver of the car be- came extremely distraught and tried to engage us in a fight. Then we pulled the driver out of the car and a fight broke out. Before I knew it, I had one of the guys up over my head and I threw him to the ground. Then we arrested them and all sorts of confusion started. The next morning I was called into the staff sergeant’s office and I was told there were two charges of assault laid against me.

I didn’t know how to handle it, so I hired a lawyer and the charges against me were dismissed. I learned that before going into a new situation you had better know just where you stand regarding the rules and regulations. I learned this the hard way early in my career and this type of thing never happened to me again. I think on this one I received a little help from "above!"

This role in the RCMP was not one of my favorites because it was fraught with too many unknowns and possible pitfalls at any moment.

When I was stationed as a Mountie in Fort Chipewyan in Northern Alberta, I had occasion to go hunting several times with a trapper and his dog-team. The trapper took a liking to me and one day when I asked permission to take the dog- team out into the town, he agreed. In my youthful over- confidence, I was sure that the dogs would listen to me and I went out to show off my skills. We had not even gone out of the RCMP detachment gate, when the lead dog decided to jump over the 3-foot fence instead. All of the other eight dogs followed her and ended up in a heap tangled up with one another. You can imagine what a mess it was! Having resolved this first entanglement, we proceeded down the main street. But this was not the intention of the lead dog, as she had decided to try pulling the team with all her might down the private laneways off the main street. I exercised as much might as possible to keep them on track, but it was obvious to the onlookers (some of whom had to come over to bail me out of the mess) that a young Mountie was in big trouble. Then we proceeded down the main street, and my dog-team started fighting with another passing dog-team (this was not an uncommon occurrence). If you have ever seen dog-teams fighting, it’s a fur-flying event that is best avoided at all cost. People on the street again had to come and rescue me!

Finally, with my ego badly bruised again, I proceeded back to the detachment. On my way back, the dogs decided that one more adventure was in order and the lead dog decided to veer off the main road and try to jump over a woodpile that was covered with snow! The whole dog-team went up the snow pile and fortunately for me they came out the other side without incident. I then headed back to the post, and at this point everyone in town had already heard of my exploits, but all were kind enough not to mention it to me! Needless to say, I never went out again by myself with the dog-team! This was definitely an ego-transcending experience.

After this, I requested a transfer to Regina as a swimming instructor at the training depot. I loved the experience because I was helping the new recruits do something that I had always loved. Unfortunately I started to go out with one of officers’ daughters and the officer didn’t particularly approve of this. Although he never spoke to me about it, coincidentally a short time later I got transferred to Vegreville, Alberta as a Peace Officer. I enjoyed my role doing highway patrol because I really tried to be a "peace officer" as opposed to a police officer.

When I was stationed as an RCMP officer in Jasper, Alberta, two of us were called to “drag" for a dead body in Medicine Lake, which is part of the territory of the Maligne Canyon. The two of us settled into a little rowboat with a simple rope and hook to look for the body on the bottom of the 60-foot- deep lake. The Forest Rangers, with very modern equipment for this kind of thing, had already done some dragging for the body, to no avail. Therefore, the two of us felt quite overwhelmed by the daunting task. A day later, we finally felt a tug on the rope and when we brought the rope up, there was a foot attached to the hook. We had succeeded in finding the body and we were headed back to shore.

Just at that moment we looked up and saw an approaching tourist boat filled to the brim with sunglass-wearing, picture-taking tourists starting to wave at us. My partner said, “What are we going to do now?" and I replied, “Drop ‘im!" We let the body drop down to the bottom again and breathed a sigh of relief as the tourists happily passed by. Boy! That would have been a story to tell back home. Can you imagine it? “Hey Mom, we saw RCMP officers dragging a dead man behind their boat!" That would have gone over big back at the detachment.

Too many rules

After that I had a few other assignments within the RCMP but I had already decided that this was not something I wanted to pursue as a lifetime career. There were just too many rules and regulations for a free-spirited Aquarian like myself. I loved the discipline and the camaraderie of the RCMP but I just could not abide by what seemed to be rules for the sake of rules. Little did I know that my longest career would be in the federal government, which is not in itself free of rules! This desire for freedom from the confines of rules would follow me all my life. Those of you who know me from our days on Guru’s path will recognize this trait of mine. Fortunately, my love of Guru and his love for me were stronger than my intolerance of "rules."

My Father Days

A year or so after I joined the RCMP, I married my first wife and started a family. This was a tough, very tough phase of my life. When I look back on this difficult period, I don’t really want to “go there", because of the painful memories it invokes.

I tried the best I could to raise my four children during a tumultuous period and to bring as much support and joy to their lives as I was able. In spite of the family situation, we had a lot of good experiences doing things together outdoors. We camped many, many times at Black Lake and fished at Burritts Rapids. When I learned to ski, all the kids and I skied quite often, spending hours on the hill at Carlington Park. My oldest son and I skipped at least 10,000 flat rocks, the size of a DVD, into Lake Ontario, by our farm. We really did have a lot of fun!

One time, when I was picking cherries on the farm, high up on an extension ladder, all of a sudden my five-year-old daughter was tugging on my pants leg and saying, “Move over, Daddy!" She had climbed all the way to the top of the ladder herself, and when I saw her, my heart skipped a beat with fear. Very gently I grabbed her and gingerly climbed down the ladder with her in my arms.

I tried to provide the children with as much love, affection and fun as I knew how to do at the time. I know the situation did not meet their expectations about what an ideal family should have been. I myself was at a loss to know how to resolve the difficulties we all experienced together and I am sorry that I could not have done more for them at the time.

I may not have been the ideal father, in their eyes, or provided them with the family life they would have dreamed of, but I have shared with them all I know to be of value in life. Some of them will understand this and others will not. I was fortunately able to introduce most of them to an inner philosophy of life – or spirituality, as taught to me by my Master – and for this, I am grateful. I know God will be taking care of them in His own Way.

During my father years, I was doing a lot of white-water canoeing on the Madawaska River, just north of Ottawa, with a canoeing club. I found it really exciting going down the rapids and it required tremendous strength and coordination. In that I couldn’t afford a full-sized canoe, I challenged myself to make my own canoe. I had a frame for a canoe which I obtained from a friend and the instructions to build the outer shell of the canoe came with the frame. My children decided that they wanted a yellow canoe, so we bought yellow pigment and set about constructing a canoe. We felt good about having done it. I used it several times doing white-water canoeing and it was a source of real pride that I, with some help from my children, had created the canoe. I think the kids were also proud that they had been a part of making their own family canoe, which we called “the Banana." I used this canoe many years later on camping trips with Alo and the canoe was a permanent fixture in my life for decades, until I no longer could store it. Some memories are so unique that they never fade!

A Round-About Way to the Goal

Most of my memories about my working days center on athletic activities outside of work. I enjoyed the masters swim team competitions, I joined a golfing club and I was a member of the curling team in our department. However, I really wanted to be a downhill ski instructor, but the only problem was that I didn’t know how to ski!

So I decided to “kill two birds with one stone". I enrolled in a downhill instructor’s class (to teach beginner skiers) and while the instructors were showing us the techniques to teach others, I was learning them myself! I’m sure the instructors knew what I was up to, but since I was quite athletic, I picked up the rudiments quickly and the instructors never criticized me. After a few lessons I was awarded a Downhill Ski Instructor’s Certificate for beginners. I now knew how to ski and I became quite good at it and absolutely loved the sport for years. In fact, I later became a member of the Canadian Ski Patrol and an on-hill ski instructor. I really think Guru would find it hilarious to hear this story about how I learned to ski!

A taxing Job

For twenty-five years I worked in a variety of capacities within the Canadian federal government. During this time I had many great experiences and met many significant and interesting people, including my wife Hiranmoyi.

My first job in the government involved collecting taxes with Revenue Canada Taxation. I was given an assignment every day to collect taxes door-to-door, from people who had not yet paid their taxes. We generally sent out a letter first, before turning up at their doorstep. Nevertheless, you can probably imagine the kinds of reactions we got from the arrival of the “tax collector". There are no cute stories to tell about this job. It was like pulling teeth to get people to cough up money!

Then for many years I worked as a systems analyst within Revenue Canada Taxation, during the early days of computers. In those days there were no computers on desks, just one mainframe computer, which was kept in a computer room, within each government agency. At one point I rejoined the RCMP to help develop the Canadian Police Information Centre. As part of this job, I was responsible for developing the stolen motor vehicle system, and was instrumental in developing the alpha-numeric license plates that could be remembered easily by police officers.

During these years, it is interesting that I had at least five or six programmers working for me who had spiritual Masters in India. Much to my surprise, they were always taking too much time off work to go and visit their Masters in India. I’m glad now that I wasn’t too hard on them, because little did I know that I myself would be in a similar position, not too far in the future.

I Meet My "Better Half"

People have often asked me how someone like me ever got so lucky as to meet someone like Hiranmoyi. I ask myself this question all the time! God’s Grace, I guess! The story of how we got together is really more Hiranmoyi’s story than mine. But she says that since it may be a long time before she gets around to writing her stories, I can have this story for now.

I was about forty-five years old, working as a systems analyst, and I was assigned to a project for which Hiranmoyi, in her first job in the government, was responsible. I met her to clarify the system needs for the new recruitment method she was developing. When she walked in the door, I was immediately attracted to her. The reason the rest of it is Hiranmoyi’s story is that she says that after meeting me, she heard a bell ringing inside her and a voice saying, “This is the man you are going to marry". A little while later, when she told me this, I took what she said as the unquestionable truth and watched the rest unfold before me.

At the time, Hiranmoyi worked in the Human Resource Planning department, where they had all the details about every employee on record. After “hearing" that I was the one she was intended to marry, she went and looked me up in the records. She found that I was nineteen years older than she was, and that I had four children. She said that her inner voice was so strong on the subject that she never questioned that we would be married, in spite of all that she had read about me. We were eventually married and we have been a great team ever since!

So Many Stories

There are so many stories that I could tell about the first half of my life. My soul must have really valued diverse experiences because my life has touched upon such an array of professions, sports and artistic pursuits, only a few of which are mentioned here. The long and the short of it is that I really have always felt the “joy of living" and have loved all the experiences that have come my way (well ...mostly!).

During all these years, I prided myself on being a fairly capable guy, able to navigate myself in almost any situation that presented itself. But I guess working at a desk, within the confines of the inevitable red tape of a large organization, was just not my cup of tea. The world of work was about to take a backseat to a new adventure that unfolded on my path.

Around my 48th birthday, an event which would change my life forever, an event for which nothing I had ever experienced could possibly have prepared me, was about to occur. I was thrown into an amazing world of spirituality, the likes of which no words can properly express. At this point the reader has to suspend all known mental preconceptions about what “reality" is and just fly with me on a journey of the heart.

Many years ago, our music group Mountain-Silence was invited to give a concert tour in Hungary. It was wintertime and it was so extremely cold that it was impossible to put up even one poster, since the glue would turn into ice before the poster could be put on the walls.

The girl who was in charge of the concert in Budapest was helpless. They had a very big concert hall booked for us, but there was only one week to go and no hope for the weather to change—nor did she have enough money to advertise on radio or television. So she started praying to Guru. And from her prayer she got the idea to go to the main train station and at least give out some leaflets to the passengers.

Suddenly a man came up to her with a big video camera and a microphone. He said that he was from the national TV and they wanted to ask some people how this incredible cold weather was affecting them. She then started telling him her problem with postering and that we were coming in only one week. He then said, "So, no problem, just say now all you want to say about the concert into the camera and hundreds of thousands of people will see it and hear it." She couldn't believe her ears and eyes, but she bravely told everything to the TV about the upcoming concert.

Sure enough, the concert hall was completely full. This was quite obvious proof that prayer works, if you pray to the right person.