But in the present context, Kriya Yoga refers to the system of meditation developed by Shyama Charan Lahiri – also called Lahiri Mahasaya, 'Lahiri of the Great Mind.' It's an extremely concise and efficient system which makes possible the direct perception of the transcendent.

In 1861 he was transferred by his employers to Ranikhet, at the base of the Himalayas. What happened to him there has been the inspiration for many a florid tale, but safe to say: he encountered someone – let's just call him 'Father,' since that's what Lahiri called him – who changed his life profoundly. Lahiri returned to Benares and began to develop and practice a regimen of powerful, tiered meditation exercises, recording his progress in a series of diaries. In time, word of his accomplishments spread, and people interested in their own spiritual development started to seek him out. What he taught came to be called Kriya Yoga, because it was a practical system with specific techniques, designed for people of the world as well as monks and renunciates. And Lahiri gave initiation, in a move that was radical for his time, to members of all castes, to Judeo-Christians and Muslims as well as Hindus, and to women as well as men.

Lahiri Baba (baba means 'father'; it's a term of respect) gave permission, over the years, to several of his devotees to initiate others into Kriya; they in turn gave permission to followers of theirs. As a result, there exist today dozens of Kriya schools; nobody has a monopoly on these techniques. Some of these schools are highly structured, well-known organizations; some are loose-knit and secretive. Several of them claim to teach the one, true Kriya Yoga, exactly as Lahiri Mahasaya taught it. That's rubbish. Lahiri Baba himself altered the teachings to suit the individual, the circumstances, and various stages of development. What can be said with some certainty, over a hundred years down the line, is that some schools teach a more complete form of Kriya, and others a more diluted. (And, it must be noted, some so-called Kriya schools teach things that have nothing whatsoever to do with Lahiri and his practices.)

A young man who had just met Lahiri Baba said to him: 'You're known as a great meditator. Which god do you meditate on – Shiva, Krishna, or Kali?' And Lahiri replied: 'I meditate on that which underlies Shiva and Krishna and Kali – and you, and me, and everything else.'

I do correspond and occasionally meet with other meditators. There are some amazingly thoughtful Kriyabans out there – impressive scholars and researchers as well as inspired practitioners – and I've benefitted from their work. But if I'm a member of an organization, it's an organization of one.

What I and some others are doing is, I suppose, a new model as far as this whole initiation/meditation thing goes: a model inspired in part by the ready availability of information now. The web, as we all know, is both a blessing and a curse. Do a quick search on Kriya Yoga and you'll find a staggering amount of information. The problem is, most of it is utter crap; the phrase spiritual discrimination takes on a whole new meaning when you have digital access. What I and a few like-minded souls are attempting to do – and this can only be done, I firmly believe, when you're working with a system that has the integrity and power of Kriya Yoga – is to disseminate through various media the most accurate and complete version of Kriya we can, based on our research and personal experience, and then trust the discipline to guide the disciple. If you're given the tools of Kriya, and you use them with care and conviction, you – there's no other way to say it – will become your own acharya, your own master.

As I mentioned earlier, I've been a Kriyaban for five decades. But I hadn't long been involved with the organization I first learned Kriya from before I realized things weren't as simple or straightforward as their literature claimed. I'm not interested in criticizing, in any specific way, any specific group; there's enough pettiness and backbiting in the world of digital yoga as it is. What I will say is, I came to believe – and my first trip to India and conversations with Lahiri's relatives confirmed – that I had received from that organization neither a comprehensive nor a particularly accurate version of what Lahiri Baba taught. Don't get me wrong: I had many wonderful experiences in meditation, and I never for a moment considered giving it up. But after a number of years, I found myself on a plateau I was unable to transcend.

As time passed, however, I began to gather fragments here and there of additional techniques, of more complete versions of Kriya, and I started integrating them into my sadhana. The results, within a relatively short period of time, were remarkable. I felt as if I'd spent years sitting in a beautiful sports car – a Lamborghini, say – enjoying the smell of the upholstery, running my fingers over the dash, playing with the steering wheel. And that someone had finally walked up, handed me the keys, and said, 'You know, this thing's got an engine; why don't you take it for a spin?' Within months my practice had risen to an entirely new level. And things I'd convinced myself were just meditation fairytales had started happening, to me. If I have any authority, it comes from my experience.