A Review of Guru Within Guru Without by Padmanabha

 

 (Infinite Heart Publications, 2026). ISBN: 979-8-9958409-0-9

There are few words/concepts when it comes to the pursuit of the spiritual that are more misunderstood, maligned, and mysterious than the word guru. The dictionary definition is surprisingly straightforward: A Sanskrit term for a spiritual or intellectual guide, teacher, or master. All students, after all, require teachers and guides. In 30-plus years of spiritual study and practice, I have had many teachers and guides, but not a single one that I would term a guru. For many folks who grew up in the sixties, the word guru conjures images of the Beatles and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi falling in and falling out. Those with a deeper knowledge of student-seekers and their gurus might think of Ram Dass (Richard Alpert) and his guru Neem Karoli Baba, or even Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love encounters with (the unnamed in the book) Gurumayi Chidvilasananda and Bali’s Ketut Liyer.

No matter your level of knowledge about gurus, if you have interest in this highly evolved class of teacher-guide, I highly recommend this book—a combination of autobiography, hagiography, poetry, photographs, and illustrations by the author, Padmanabha (Gene Van Dyke)—which takes the reader on a very personal journey with his guru, Baba Muktananda. Although it is not translated in the book, Padmanabha means lotus-navelled, a reference to Vishnu. The prose is fast-moving and engaging… not quite stream of consciousness, but clearly energized and swept along by a high vibrational energy. It is filled with “chance” encounters, such as the author entering the “wrong” room on his way to see a film by Fellini and instead meeting the guru who would quickly transform his life. That was 56 years ago. The author, at the time of writing, is 94. A musician, painter, and, in 1950, one of the first American surfers, Padmanabha has traveled the world—he was in Havana the day that Batista fled revolutionary Cuba. According to his bio, he watched Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, and Ernest Hemingway fire rifles into the air in celebration.   

For  those who are skeptical to the point of cynical, some of the events that take place in the book may appear to be at best exaggerations and at worst fabrications, but there is ample documented, scientific proof that there are certain individuals—gurus, sadhus, mystics, wizards, witches, shamans—who can manipulate matter and energy in ways akin to the miracles related in the Christian bible. Fittingly, Padmanabha evokes the incident of the loaves and fishes when two hundred unexpected attendees show up for one of Muktananda’s events. Muktananda tells him to keep dishing out the food without looking at the pot and all the attendees will be fed. And so they were. The next day, the guru only speaks of the “miracle” to say that the Occult is only a means to doing good and never an end in itself. Although I have never had a guru, my wife, a gifted energy healer and walker between the worlds, is a devotee of Neem Karoli Baba and some of the experiences of which I am aware through her and others align quite closely with those related in this book. Some are incredibly profound.

A long-time student of shamanism, I am interested in the figure of the trickster in Indigenous culture, and much of what Padmanabha relates about Muktananda (which closes matches what Ram Dass related about the methods of Neem Karoli Baba) fits closely with the idea of one who mediates dualities through humor and ascended wisdom. There is clearly growth in the author as a result of his experiences with a clever teacher who would tell him that something was not to be done and then tell everyone it was to be done just to keep his student on his toes and aware that, no matter the message, it was sent with Love. In this way, Muktananda was able to turn criminals from their black-road paths, inspire thousands of followers, and unlock a person’s coiled Kundalini with a touch.

The author was an essential part of the teams that traveled with his guru to major cities in America, most often cooking for the multitudes in the kitchen. Muktananda had some very successful, well-known friends they visited along the way, like John Denver and Chogyan Trungpa Rimpoche, and the anecdotes are entertaining and oftentimes profound.

There are also profound instances of the dance of life and death, and the benefits of (severe, life-threatening) illness, including the author’s suffering a brain aneurism and having near-death and out-of-body experiences, from which he healed on multiple levels, which is highly shamanic.

The poetry in the book, which is presented both classically and in prose, resonates like a sutra, begging numerous reads. Its simplicity is a mirage; its repetition an energetic, healing wave. This is to be expected, given that it was born of the lessons and the love-enveloped work–play dance of Padmanabha serving his guru, in life as well as after Muktananda had left the earthly plane.

In the end, this beautiful love letter to his guru and to Love and Life is essential reading for those on the spiritual path, whether they have a guru or not.