The story of my life is nothing more than a long journey, from what I believed myself to be to what I truly am. It is a tale of transcending the personal and the universal, the partial and the total, the illusory and the real, the apparent and the true. My life is a flight beyond the temporal and the eternal, darkness and light, the human and the divine. This story is not public but profoundly private and intimate.
Only what begins, ends; what starts, finishes. One who lives in the present is neither born nor dies, because what lacks a beginning never ends.
I am the disciple of a seer, an enlightened being, somebody who is nobody. I was initiated in my spiritual childhood by the moonlight. A seagull who loved flying more than anything else in life inspired me.
In love with the impossible, I crossed the universe obsessed with a star. I have walked infinite paths, following the footsteps of those who saw, with deep respect for them but always in my own way.
Like the ocean that longs for water, I sought my home within my own house.
I am not a guide, professor, instructor, educator, enlightener, pedagogue, evangelist, guru, rabbi, posek halacha, or master, but only a traveler whom you can ask for directions. I gladly show you a place where everything calms upon arrival, a place beyond the sun and the stars, beyond your desires and longings, beyond time and space, beyond concepts and conclusions, beyond you.
We are all born artists. Since I got stuck in childhood, I consider myself one of them: a certified weirdo for whom art is more than enough. Security brings with it a bit of death; that is why we artists choose uncertainty. But we have a special gift to move in the dark by our own light. Aware of the abyss that separates revelation and our works, we live in a frustrated attempt to faithfully express the mystery of the spirit.
I paint sighs, hopes, silences, aspirations, and melancholies… inner landscapes and sunsets of the soul. I am a painter of the indescribable, inexpressible, and indefinable of our depths… and maybe I just write colors and paint words.
Since childhood, little windows of paper captivated my attention; through them I visited places, met people, and made friends.
It is not my intention to convince anyone of anything. I neither offer a theology or philosophy, nor do I preach or teach, I simply think out loud. The echo of these words may lead you to the infinite space of peace, silence, love, existence, consciousness, and absolute bliss.
I have no messages or teachings: I only scream in the night, “Save yourself if you can!”… and I sincerely tell you: every one of us can, believe me.
Do not search for me; search for yourself. It is not me that you need, because the only thing that really matters is you. What you yearn for lies within you, as what you are, here and now.
Avoid fame, for true glory is not based on public opinion but on what you really are.
Unfortunately, common sense seems to have been distributed equally. Everyone is sure to have it in such abundance that almost no one has room for their own.
Choose bliss over success, life over reputation, and wisdom over information.
If you succeed, you will know not only admiration but also true envy. However, jealousy is a tribute that mediocrity pays to talent: just an acceptance and an open declaration of inferiority.
Always remember that there are many beings but few humans. The latter do not bark, mew, or bray; rather, they think and their words deserve to be heard. Because in our days there are many who bray, few who speak, and fewer still who sing.
I advise you to fly freely and never be afraid of making mistakes. Learn the art of transforming your errors into lessons. Never blame others for your faults: remember that taking complete responsibility for your life is a sign of maturity. When you fly, you learn that what matters is not touching the sky but the courage to spread your wings. The higher you rise, the smaller and less significant the world looks. As you walk, sooner or later you will understand that every search begins and ends in you.
Your unconditional well-wisher,
H.H. Avadhūta Bhaktivedanta Yogacharya Śrī Ramakrishnananda Bābājī Mahārāja (David, Ben Yosef, Har-Zion), who writes under the pen name Prabhuji, is a writer, a painter, and an avadhūta mystic. He was born in Santiago, the capital of the Republic of Chile, on March 21, 1958. When he was eight years old, he had a mystical experience that sparked his search for the Truth. Since then, he has devoted his life to deepening the early transformative experience that marked the beginning of his process of involution.
For more than fifty years, he has been exploring and practicing various religions and spiritual paths. In his view, the awakening at the level of consciousness, or the transcendence of the egoic phenomenon, is the next step in humanity’s evolutionary process.
Since 2007, he has chosen to retire from society and lead a solitary life. He spends his days completely secluded, praying, studying, writing, painting, and meditating in silence and contemplation.
Prabhuji does not accept the role of a spiritual authority. We ask everyone to respect his privacy.