Ken Mazzochi

As far back as I can remember I have not been happy in this body, and have always looked forward to going home. Only recently have I had periods of joy and bliss with a new idea that I’m happy to be alive.

I grew up with a loving Christian mother and brother. I never met my father. He was an alcoholic gambler and left my mother shortly after I was born. I spent my first few years in and out of foster homes before being reunited with my mother. Some of these homes were abusive and dysfunctional. We were on welfare and lived in constant fear. Now I am the only survivor of my immediate family; they all died of alcoholism. I’ve been in recovery from alcohol and other drugs for well over 20 years and have been a drug and alcohol counselor for the past 15 years.

I was married for 14 years and have 3 adult children and 4 grandchildren, all on the East Coast. We communicate by phone, mail, e-mail, video, and photos, but I miss their physical presence. Being in a 12-step spiritual program for years, I have learned about honesty and truth.

During the early years of my sobriety and at a time when I was very unhappy in my marriage, I put my energy into painting. A friend gave me a photo of her boyfriend walking on a sandy beach, along a deep blue ocean beneath a colorful sky at sunset, and asked me to create a painting from this. I began painting and found myself making changes. I gave him better posture, a white baseball cap in place of his fisherman’s hat, a dark blue tank top instead of a dull colored shirt, and levis. I also put a beard and smile on his face, and replaced his sneakers with sandals. I called my friend and explained that I wasn’t able to paint her request. I used to name my paintings – this one I named "Freedom."

About two years later I was separated from my wife and living on my own. I was out of clean clothes and heading for the laundromat. I parked my car, carried my laundry basket toward the door, but dropped a sock. I put the basket down, put the sock in the basket and stood up. Looking in the glass picture window, I froze. It was the freedom painting. I saw that sandy beach, incredibly beautiful sky, ocean, and myself in a dark blue tank top, white cap, levis, sandals, with a big smile on my bearded face (the clothing and beard were new). I was nowhere near the coast, and wasn’t sure where the reflection of the ocean scene came from. Tears flooded my eyes, and I felt incredible peace. I realized that this was another sign that God is always with me. As I later sat watching my clothes dry, I was aware that it wasn’t only freedom that I now had, but that the heavy guilt I had been feeling had also lifted. I felt very blessed. After my divorce I prayed to meet the person I would spend the rest of my life with. I met Bob 2 days later [see Bob LaMarche’s story, next page]. We had many things in common, particularly our spiritual seeking. We were both reading the Bible and other self-acceptance books at the time.

I have always struggled in school and know today that I’m dyslexic. I dropped out of school in my freshman year of high school, and took the GED at the age of 35 while working as a machinist at Pratt & Whitney Aircraft in Connecticut. I entered community college shortly thereafter, received an Associate’s Degree for Alcohol and Drug Counseling and graduated in 1987. I left my machinist job and began working as a Chemical Dependency counselor. After moving to California, I began working on my Bachelor’s Degree at St. Mary’s College, and graduated in 1994. Bob was my very patient typist, coach, and friend through all of this schooling.

Over the years we have tried several spiritual paths, met some awesome spiritual teachers, and were drawn to the Kripalu Yoga Center, a former ashram in Western Massachusetts, in 1996. We found ourselves with kind of an "east-west" belief system. Needless to say, when we returned to the Bay Area after a 3-year absence in 1997 and I walked into the Ananda Mandir, it felt perfect.

A few years ago I dreamed that I was following a being dressed in a white hooded monk’s robe. We were traveling along a brook, and I was jumping from rock to rock. This being told me I didn’t need to look down, and I realized after looking up that I wasn’t actually touching down on the rocks anyway. We came upon a tall, thick gray wall. He signaled me to follow him as he went through the wall. I remember thinking, "I can’t," followed by the thought "I can." I plunged through it, breaking into billions of small particles. As my arms and body came through the other side, my body was re-assembled. I woke up and thought "Wow, that’s how it works."

I’m happy to be alive. I am grateful for having a partner of 20 years who is also on the same path, and to Swami Kriyananda for being the channel that he is in creating the perfect expression of Master’s work. I so appreciate those that work hard to keep Ananda energized with Master’s ray. I am also grateful to be in a profession where there is spiritual teaching (the 12 Steps), though at work I use the term Higher Power in place of Master or Divine Mother.

Sometimes it feels as though I’ve reincarnated 3 times in this one life, this third one being the best. If there is a fourth, I hope to be working with those who are dying or in grief.