From the lens of Mokshajyoti

First and foremost, I feel deeply humbled to acknowledge that the name Mokshajyoti — “The Light of Liberation” — was chosen and given to me by Swami Yatidharmananda in July 2025.

I consider him my spiritual mentor because, since meeting him, my understanding of spirituality—and in many ways, my life—has shifted profoundly.

When I first met him, I was drawn by an Indian monk playing the djembe and singing with a voice that touched something deep within me. But over time, what inspired me most was not what he taught through words. It was how he lived.

Before knowing Swami Yatidharmananda, I had a very different idea of monastic life. I imagined a monk living mostly in seclusion—meditating, contemplating and pursuing higher states of consciousness. Perhaps this appealed to me because I, too, have often sought solitude. There were times when I felt a deep separation between spirituality and ordinary human life, and being around people could feel draining.

Then Yatiswami came into my life and quietly shattered that idea.

In him, I began to see that spirituality can be deeply intertwined with service, relationship and presence. His life is almost always surrounded by people. He listens to their struggles, cares for elders, guides and supports children, adults, families as they need, serves his community, teaches, travels and somehow continues to meet people where they are.

To learn from him, I spent several weeks traveling and being in spaces around him simply observing how he lives. And some of my greatest learnings came through the smallest moments.

When I was struggling with a huge suitcase, he carried my heavy luggage so I could move more freely. When families host him, he will happily enter their kitchen, cook delicious food and feed everyone. When he plays with dogs or children, he becomes one of them. When he sings kirtan, his whole heart seems to disappear into devotion. When he plays cricket, he is completely immersed in the game.

And when he eats ice cream, he may as well be five years old.

That childlike joy and curiosity has taught me as much about presence as any meditation.

He showed me that presence is not something we talk about—it is how completely we meet whatever is in front of us.

There is an abundance of spiritual knowledge in the world. What feels much rarer to me is encountering someone whose everyday life gives you a glimpse of the teachings themselves.

Through Yatiswami, I have learned more about humility, compassion, service, unconditional love then any book or practice would teach me and what it means to simply be human. Though, I wouldn’t deny that learning has not always been comfortable. He challenges me. There have been many tears as I have confronted layers of my own mind and ego. Yet through those storms, I have experienced him as a patient anchor—someone who does not necessarily remove the difficulty, but remains present while I find my way through it.

I don't have adequate words for how much my inner world has shifted since meeting him. At different moments of life's ups and downs, I have found in him a guide, an anchor and a friend. That is why I choose to call him my spiritual mentor.

And that is also why I invited him to Oregon and hosting gatherings.

Not because I simply want people to come hear another spiritual teacher speak, but because I want my community to have the opportunity I was given: to meet him, practice with him, ask questions, sing with him, laugh with him, and perhaps experience for themselves something that cannot quite be communicated through a bio or a list of credentials.

For me, having the opportunity to spend time with someone who is genuinely trying to live what he teaches is rare.

This Oregon journey is my way of sharing that opportunity with my community.