My trip to Quebec was for two reasons. First, the massive Psychedelic Plant medicine I experienced stressed the organs, making my body sluggish. Also, regarding my private practice, I treated 40 to 50 people weekly and observed residual trauma starting to surface. Second, I had never practiced Asana before or visited an ashram. Although I was fortunate to appear during a 30-day teacher training program, I had no prior knowledge of the event or three thousand dollars to join. Still, the Ashram let me visit as a Yogi vacationer. So, I pitched a tent in the secluded forest and witnessed hundreds of people arrive.
Unfortunately, A few attendees recognized me, so living in the forest out of the spotlight did not last too long. Next, I attempted my first yoga class for beginners; it was two hours, and I felt great. After the teacher took me aside and declared, this was not your first yoga class, she laughed; you lied. I explained to her that I studied the philosophy of Yoga but not Asana; maybe by osmosis, my body recalled Asana. Further, the teacher informed me that I was a Yogi from the past and a good omen for the Ashram; she said I would learn quickly. She unlocked parts of my body, applying pressure and deep stretching into postures that challenge beginners. It was excruciating, but I liked it; as the pain intensified, I encountered vivid flashbacks of Yoga on the Ganges river shores long ago. Then, I realized I was enduring a psychedelic reality without the substances, and Asana released minimal amounts of DMT. After 2 weeks of intense practice, I went from little flexibility to meditating in full lotus, well ahead of the other students.
The Ashram became my home, and the Quebec Mountains my spirit; still, I observed flashbacks of Aboriginals running about the Ashram. Also, I dreamed of a proud native chief running through the forests at night. Eventually, I excelled, and everyone assumed I was a full-time Yogi. But then, a man from India attended the teacher's training to watch the students and ensure they performed their duties. First, he asked to sit and drink tea; I said, of course. Then, he asked if I was doing Karma yoga at the Ashram. I replied that I was not and knew nothing about it. Next, he congratulated me on my karma yoga duties; and transferred me to a location that he said was an honourable space to clean.
But before we concluded, he asked one more question, have you studied magic and opened the five sheaths? I replied that I activated the five inner light bodies; this sounds the same as the sheaths. He responded by declaring I cheated and doing the same with Asana. So, this man from India is a Yogi and a mystic; he reads the layers in a person's eyes, similar to counting the circles on a cut tree to find its age. Consequently, he said I had more rounds in my eyes than the average person, but the rings were fresh, so I evolved quickly. Also, the mystic explained that In India, we visit cheating as Karma; it's my Karma to take the fastest path necessary when I get a body. However, there are repercussions to bending time. For example, the Ashram students have noticed the Yogi vacationer; you are excelling, sun tanning by the pool and the Sauna alluding to this path as easy. As a result, the students are distracted and see you as a mentor, except you can't teach because you lack the learning or student process. So now you will spend your days in the Peace Plane museum, organizing, cleaning, sweeping and mopping the floors.
The Peace Plane exhibit was built in honour of the Swami Vishnu. He believed that state borders, passports and visas inhibited the chance of unity or peace. Therefore, in 1971, Swami Vishnu Devananda flew a twin-engine plane with no access over the Suez Canal from Israel to Egypt, Pakistan, and India. Also, in 1983, he flew over the Berlin Wall and landed an ultra-light glider in the Berlin field.
After meeting the teacher/mystic from India, I began to think deeply, and he was right about the fast path to enlightenment. Besides, I was required to perform at my best without bypassing any spiritual development. Consequently, deviations often go unnoticed in spiritual and religious communities, and I did not want to mature as one of those statistics. So every day, I entered the Peace Plane Museum, swept the floors, dusted the railings and cleaned the windows. Further, I wiped each picture, touched the walls with varnish, and helped fix the entrance door falling off the hinges. Finally, I restocked the shelves with more peace plane passports that bestowed Swami Vishnu messages and handed them to daily visitors. As a result, the museum turned into a place of laughter and joy; fresh blood was pumped into the heart of the Sivananda Ashram.
I took everything I learned from my Karma Yoga onto the mat. I was perfecting the art of Asana and utilizing the body to open higher realms of intelligence; the postures were enhanced, and my mystic gifts were more potent. Nothing was forced; everything was happening naturally. Finally, one beautiful morning I received a breakthrough; I finished Asana practice, one of my best and walked to my dormitory to sleep. Then, suddenly, I jumped out of bed and awoke in someone else's body, a fat truck driver. First, I noticed a sign on the road that said, North Carolina; I was tired, driving in a blizzard, with snow sticking to the truck window. Next, I heard tires screeching, then a high-frequency static tone, almost like the noise you hear on DMT. Quickly, the scene turned to pure white light, and I awoke back in the dormitory at the Ashram. Eventually, the truck driver fell asleep and died smashing his vehicle on the highway, among other cars.
After this experience, which some call Bilocation, I felt a newly awakened state as if I had advanced five lifetimes or healed years of suffering. Later, one individual from the teacher's training asked me WTF happened; I replied savasana. He laughed; you look different, and your eyes have changed, was it a mantra or meditation that put you in this state? Then, I told him what had happened. Next, the student reported researching Bilocation practiced by the Yogi brotherhood and Swami Vishnu at the Ashram. They sat in meditation and waited to jump into bodies close to death to transform their Karma and learn how to ascend. Generally, these Yogis became meditative hitchhikers. Nevertheless, the frequency of death rang in my ears for weeks, and I am sure that tone will reappear when I die.
The teacher's training program was finished, so students and teachers asked me for energetic attunements; of course, I said yes. Eventually, the man in charge who oversaw the logistics of the Ashram noticed my efforts and was not happy. His name is Prahlada, and he declared that I must ignore all supernatural energies or paranormal experiences I acquired during my visit. Subsequently, psychic powers distract us from Yama (social restraints) and Niyamas (self-discipline). Further, in yoga scriptures, adepts are not ready for higher forms of intelligence; as a result, mystic powers can lead to lying, violence, possessiveness, stealing, and idle Gossip (wasting energy). However, the more I ignored the paranormal, the stronger it grew, vibrating higher and anchoring in my body. Yet, again, students and teachers started asking for advice, many suffered injuries, and others were exhausted with low energy. Finally, Prahlada got angry and revealed I was disturbing the teacher's training flow; several people became interested in me, not the course curriculum. Next, Prahlada announced, you stop immediately; he threw his arm down, inventing an aggressive cutting suggestion with his hand. After this altercation, I went into Asana practice and injured myself severely with a slipped disc, pelvis injury and stomach hernia. In the end, I left the Ashram to dry fast for four days, and when I was well enough to walk, I arrived back in Toronto for 6 months of rehab. Still, to this day, I suffer from the Ashrams Beta Yoga whip.