When I was younger, I was a student at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. My girlfriend at that time and I took a summer bicycle trip through New England. When we got to Vermont, I thought the State was so beautiful that I dropped out of school, waved goodbye when the girlfriend went back to Philadelphia and borrowed $400 from my grandfather so I could settle in Burlington.
I was only in town for a few days when, being a big fan of libraries, I was strolling through the library at the University of Vermont. I noticed a poster announcing a yogi scheduled to give a presentation on campus. I looked at my watch and found the talk was to begin in about 15 minutes. I was amazed at my good luck and thought to myself, “I think I’m really going to like it here in Vermont.”
The yogi’s name was Dr. Ramamurti Mishra, later to become Swami Brahmananda Saraswati. Dr. Mishra was the founder of the Yoga Society of New York, Ananda Ashram, and the Yoga Society of San Francisco. He gave a discourse and concluded by asking for questions from those in attendance. I raised my hand and asked a question which I thought to be earnest, but the yogi apparently recognized an underlying arrogance.
He called me up to the front of the room and asked if I could sit in the half-lotus posture. I did so, and he praised me. Then he asked if I could sit in the full lotus. I took this posture, trying to appear humble in front of the group, but actually feeling quite proud of my ability. He next instructed me to grasp my hair, which I did. Finally, he asked me to pull myself up off the ground. Obviously, I was unable to do so and everyone, including me, had a good laugh. It only took a few more words for Dr. Mishra to clarify how subtle pride interferes with the need of the student to recognize his limitations.
