My father used to say you can’t judge someone by their spouse (because they seemed to marry the darndest people) but by the company they choose to keep. The great master of yoga, Paramahansa Yogananda (whom I quoted often in my book The Budo Karate of Mas Oyama) said that one is better off in hell with a saint than in heaven with a sinner, because a sinner will make a hell out of heaven but a saint will make a heaven out of hell.

In 1980/81 I lived in California for a little under a year, living a life of Raja Yoga, soaking up the atmosphere of the Self Realization Fellowship’s environment. As many are aware, SRF is the yoga organization created by Paramahansa Yogananda in 1920 when he first journeyed to the USA.

Actually I was on my way to New York where I had planned to train for six months then continue to Japan to compete in the 12th Kyokushin All Japan Championships. I had placed 2nd in the Australian Championships earlier that year, so was looking forward to the training and the experience. The SRF Convocation was in LA, so I thought I would attend that before heading off to New York to train with Shihans Nobuyuki Kishi and Shigeru Oyama.

The SRF Convocation was a real turning point in my life. To cut a long story short, I ended up heading to New York for just two weeks (where I stayed and trained at the dojo of Shihan Kishi) before quickly returning to California where I remained until early 1981, working with the monks at the SRF Mt Washington headquarters and sometimes at the SRF publishing facility. It was a sublime period, surrounded by students of Yogananda who in every way fulfill the criteria that would make them saints. I lived near the Hollywood Temple where Brother Bhaktananda, a sweet saint whose gentle humour and smile melted even the toughest of hearts, would conduct services twice a week. During my entire stay I don’t think I heard a raised voice or saw an angry face. Just calmness and the peace borne of deep, regular meditation. You can bluff your way through the martial arts world and fool some of the people all of the time by hiding behind varying shades of black belt, but there is no bluffing when it comes to meditation. You either do it regularly and deeply or you don’t.

I kept up my training with pre-dawn runs to Griffith Park, past the Greek Theater (where Neil Diamond recorded Hot August Night and where I greeted the cleaner most mornings as he swept up, of all things, Australian Fosters beer cans littered throughout the carpark from the concert the night before), and on up the hill to the Griffith Observatory. There, I would do my kihon, push-ups, sit-ups and squats, then shadow spar. I was not always alone either, as quite regularly I would hear the training breath of another martial artist. It was always dark though, so I never did meet him or even see what he looked like. We’d greet with a quiet “Morning,” as we would pass, but that was it. I guess it is one of those things where you think you will stop and talk the next day, but you never actually do.

After the run, I would gather with some postulant monks and, under Brother Bhaktananda’s guidance, practice the SRF Energization Exercises (a form of pranayama) and meditate.

Often in the afternoon I would head to the LA City College a mile or two up the road and train again. The athletics track was a hive of activity with people practicing all kinds of sports in small groups. I would join in with three or four strong looking kickboxers/karate-ka and train, stretch and chew the fat. 

One interesting side note: right there next to the athletics track at LACC, in one of the gym rooms, were some strong looking guys in gis doing what looked like a hybrid form of judo. I stuck my head in a couple of times but was young and naive so didn’t really give them much thought. I loved my Kyokushin and grappling was not for me. This was 1980 remember. Years later my BJJ coach John Donehue introduced me to Gene LeBell, the one and only, with whom I still train from time to time on my regular visits to LA. It turns out it was Gene in that room teaching the grappling at LACC back in 1980. Ah, the clarity of 20/20 hindsight! If only...

Anyway, back to SRF. They were beautiful, even blissful, days, surrounded by such sublime souls and saints and siddhas. On Tuesdays, we would attend a special meditation service at the home of John and Brenda Rosser (nee Lewis), not far from the Hollywood Temple. Brenda Rosser was especially blessed. Her father, Dr Lewis, was Yogananda’s first disciple in America and Yogananda lived with her family for periods during his early years in Boston. Mrs Rosser was 2 when she first met the great yoga master when he became part of her family. He would spend hours playing with her on his lap. What a blessing to count an avatar amongst your babysitters! As Mrs Rosser later said, “I thought every family had a Mommy, a Daddy and a Swamiji living with them.”

Mrs Rosser, whose beautiful blue eyes radiated love and peace not just sometimes but all the time, passed away on March 7, 2008. She had been a disciple of Yogananda’s for 86 years. A friend attended the funeral service and sent me the eulogy. Reading it brought back many beautiful memories, especially of the Tuesday night meditations at Mr and Mrs Rosser’s home. It also reminded me of the words of Pascal who said, “The supreme, silent beauty of a holy life is the most powerful influence in the world next to the power of the might of God.” I always liked those words, and kept it in my special book of quotes. But I must admit they didn’t really resonate completely until today, when I read the eulogy. I sat back after reading the words about Mrs Rosser and was utterly overcome with a sense of awe at the effect her sublime life had on so many, including myself. Even nearly 30 years after living in LA and meditating with Mr and Mrs Rosser every week, the sublimity of her holiness still touches my heart with a wave of overwhelming peace on joy. Such is the power of the holy life.

The Old testament story of Sodom and Gamorah is also testament to the influence of a holy life. When God says He would spare the city for ten’s sake, it speaks of the powerful influence of a holy life, that the negative karma of entire cities (states and nations too perhaps) is counterbalanced and neutralized by the pure karma of just ten good souls. This is hard to comprehend until one is blessed with meeting a soul of the depth and greatness of Mrs Rosser.

Om. Shanti, shanti, shantih

Cameron Quinn