My earliest memories contain a nascent seed, a communal condition of longing—of wanting, of craving to achieve. The world was awaiting my imprint, not in transient sand but in intangible memory, locked in the endless cycle of time. This want inspired me. This need goaded me. A fear of both condemned me. What if I did not succeed? Was I doomed to mediocrity, sidelined to an unexceptional mundane existence? Was there a beacon of emancipation from this enormous weight of expectation? Could this light anticipate my success, envelop my yearning, subdue the persistent seed of doubt, of questioning? Ostensibly, it may appear that living in an ashram in India was the perfect escape, an evasion precluding all ambition. This tendril of thought has accompanied, provoked and challenged me throughout my spiritual practice. It is my dread. It is my appeasement. It is a constant, pulsating, liberating force. However—and this is a vital qualification—living with a spiritual master, embarking