It is 1971 and I have been living in Isfahan, Iran, the storied midpoint of the famous Silk Road stretching from Peking to Constantinople. It was the times — hashish trade, opium, Gurdjieff, secret police, and a counterculture searching for meaning.
As a traditional Canadian farm boy with a Roman Catholic upbringing, a psychedelic Space Odyssey adventure pointed me toward the yogic approach to spirituality. I didn't want priests and communion, nor the uninformed psychedelic circus playground. The subcontinent and the legendary history of India and the Himalayas was absolutely irresistible. I wanted to see God face to face.
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