I’ve been on the path of seeking the meaning of my life since about twelve years old after declining to have the confirmation baptism at my father’s Christian church. As my father was the minister and I the youngest of four siblings, each before me having accepted the baptism experience, it was a pretty bold decision which my father surprisingly respected. It did not turn into the fight I had expected.

Declining that baptism set me on a path of seeking the Truth, where books and people kept popping up with insights to other religions, philosophies and teachings of the yogi masters of the Far East. Somehow, I distilled all of that into knowing deep inside the I needed the experience of Self-realization and learning to meditate. One quote I came across summed it up best, “Religion is taught and believed, whereas spirituality we know through experience.” Never in my wildest dreams did I expect this seeking of Truth would lead to not only discovering the meaning of life, but the means to achieve it. I was about to experience the life of a yogi, the most unlikely thing I could ever have imagined after so many years of riding the pendulum between seeker of truth and hedonist.