You are not here. Master interrupted himself
Sri Yukteswar was a peerless interpreter of the scriptures. Many of my happiest memories are centered in his discourses. But his jeweled thoughts were not cast into ashes of heedlessness or stupidity. One restless movement of my body, or my slight lapse into absent- mindedness, sufficed to put an abrupt period to Master's exposition.
"You are not here." Master interrupted himself one afternoon with this disclosure. As usual, he was keeping track of my attention with a devastating immediacy.
"Guruji!" My tone was a protest. "I have not stirred; my eyelids have not moved; I can repeat each word you have uttered!"
"Nevertheless you were not fully with me. Your objection forces me to remark that in your mental background you were creating three institutions. One was a sylvan retreat on a plain, another on a hilltop, a third by the ocean."
Those vaguely formulated thoughts had indeed been present almost subconsciously. I glanced at him apologetically.
"What can I do with such a master, who penetrates my random musings?"
"You have given me that right. The subtle truths I am expounding cannot be grasped without your complete concentration. Unless necessary I do not invade the seclusion of others' minds. Man has the natural privilege of roaming secretly among his thoughts. The unbidden Lord does not enter there; neither do I venture intrusion."
"You are ever welcome, Master!"
"Your architectural dreams will materialize later. Now is the time for study!"
Thus incidentally my guru revealed in his simple way the coming of three great events in my life. Since early youth I had had enigmatic glimpses of three buildings, each in a different setting. In the exact sequence Sri Yukteswar had indicated, these visions took ultimate form. First came my founding of a boys' yoga school on a Ranchi plain, then my American headquarters on a Los Angeles hilltop, finally a hermitage in southern California by the vast Pacific.
Master never arrogantly asserted: "I prophesy that such and such an event shall occur!" He would rather hint: "Don't you think it may happen?" But his simple speech hid vatic power. There was no recanting; never did his slightly veiled words prove false.
~ Paramhans Yogananda “Autobiography of a yogi”
