My Kaleidoscopic Life

Like light passed through a prism, each role reveals a different hue of the same beam.

There are lives that unfold in straight lines—clean, deliberate, predictable even. And then there are lives like mine: layered, spiraling, filled with plot twists, sharp turns, and U-turns that seemed at first like detours but were in fact quiet initiations into something deeper. Yes. And for those who know me and the intricacies of the Atlanta chapter of my story, even those tremendously challenging experiences were indeed initiations.

Looking back, it’s hard to say exactly where the journey began. Was it in Milwaukee, where I first learned the rhythm of responsibility—through household chores, not one but two paper routes, shoveling snow in the winter, cutting grass in the summer, raking leaves in the fall, and eventually stepping into retail work—before relocating to Atlanta? Or was it in the decision to leave home—both physically and metaphysically—in search of something greater than the life I had been handed?

Perhaps it began in Atlanta itself—briefly immersed in corporate life, then walking the campus of Georgia State University, studying History and Sociology by day while confronting the contradictions of the South through lived experience. Maybe it took shape in the sting of rejection—being denied admission to a graduate program I had hoped would continue the momentum of my first B.A.—followed by the disillusionment of leaving a different program after more than two years of study tied to my second B.A.

Or maybe the journey was forged in the crucible of difficult friendships and intimate relationships—each one testing the very fabric of my being and, with it, my belief in myself and the possibilities of my future.

As I ruminate on it now, if I had to name a throughline, it would be this: I have always been pulled by an unseen gravity. Not ambition. Not even curiosity in the ordinary sense. But something subtler—an inner signal that there was more to life than what was visible. That behind the fabric of institutions, ideologies, and personal trials and triumphs, there existed a deeper structure. A deeper self. A deeper order. That somehow, in the throes of navigating life, there was an entanglement with a future self—one who was quietly informing my then-present.

I am reminded of a particular night when I was either sixteen or seventeen. I had returned home from a restaurant shift, showered, and gone to bed—only to fall asleep crying and awaken the same way. This cycle of weeping—falling asleep in tears, waking in tears—repeated several times through the night. At one point, I recall feeling a calm presence—either descending upon me or rising from within. It’s hard to explain, but the calm was palpable. Through the tears, I spoke aloud: “I don’t know why I’m going through this, but I know I’m going through it for a reason—and in the end, I’ll be fine.” With those words, a subtle but meaningful relief settled over me. That calm lasted for days. Perhaps longer. And in that moment, a personal affirmation crystallized—one I still carry: I am turning stumbling blocks into stepping stones to better opportunity. That night was a quiet turning point in my life.

Years later, I came across Michael Talbot’s The Holographic Universe and first encountered the notion of the universe’s holographic nature—alongside quantum entanglement theory. I felt an almost reverent wonder at the journey I had traveled. That reading, along with many others, helped shape my evolving perspective on time. I have often wondered whether that calm presence I felt was my future self, sending energy and reassurance back through the corridors of time to that younger version of me—encouraging him to just keep going. It is a message I have now passed on to my young children again and again. Because the search continues.

That search led me many places—some intellectual, others spiritual, all transformative. I spent a number of years in nonprofit leadership, committed to improving lives through policy and public discourse. And yet, even in those moments, I sensed that without addressing the inner dimension, all structural change would remain incomplete. The systems weren’t just broken—they were reflections of inner fragmentation, as is always the case when an acknowledgement of the fundamental reality of Pure Consciousness is missing from the plans of those in power.

Eventually, the call toward deeper study returned. I matriculated at Maharishi International University to pursue graduate work in Vedic Science—a choice that surprised some, but made perfect sense to me. One person even suggested I was “being selfish” for deciding to leave Atlanta for Iowa. Admittedly, that niggling thought roamed around my mind for a couple of days. But in the end, the decision to depart felt right and my plans gained increased momentum. My doctoral research would ultimately center on mystical experiences among Freemasons, blending ancient wisdom, neuroscience, and lived initiatic tradition. What emerged was not simply an academic contribution—it was a synthesis of everything I had lived, studied, and tried to articulate. The Model for Perpetual Growth and Progress, which I developed through that work, is not merely a theory. It is a life map.

Meeting my wife, Mina, at the early stages of my renewed graduate journey remains a meaningful moment of alignment. Together, we built a life rooted in spiritual growth, mutual respect, and shared purpose. In time, we would undertake—and successfully complete—the rigorous five-month, in-residence training required to become Certified Teachers of Transcendental Meditation. We approached it not merely as a technique, but as a form of remembering. After all, what is TM if not a return to the source of thought itself?

Not everyone who applies to the course is accepted. Naturally, there is some attrition, and there are times when not all who begin are able to complete it. And even among those who do, not all go on to teach—for a variety of reasons. Yet over more than a decade of shared teaching, I have come to witness in others what I had experienced firsthand: when the mind settles, the self expands.

That experience, as the ancients long suggested and as modern research continues to affirm, is indeed universal.

It was during the Fall of 1995 that another formative strand quietly wove itself into my spiritual journey: the Rosicrucian tradition. At the time, I was undertaking what I now recognise as one of my earliest initiations outside the dream state. A housemate sensed the intensity of my inner searching and confided that he had begun studying the teachings of the Rosicrucian Order, AMORC. He offered me a glimpse into the materials, intuiting that I was already moving along a path that would prove transformative on many levels.

That seed took root and, as with so many elements of a kaleidoscopic life, re-emerged at unexpected intervals. I recall vividly the Summer of 1996, while enrolled in Dr. Mark Woodhouse’s Special Topics course on Conspiracy Theories at Georgia State University. Dr. Woodhouse—a professor of philosophy and author of Paradigm Wars: Worldviews for a New Age (1996)—created a provocative learning environment, one that attracted many seekers and speculative thinkers. During a break in class, while standing in the quad, a fellow student approached, handed me a pamphlet, and offered a single, cryptic comment: “I suspect you’ll appreciate this.” It was an informational flyer on the Rosicrucian Order, AMORC. I read it with interest and tucked the memory away once more.

Then in the Spring of 1998, just months before my graduation that August, the time felt right. I submitted a formal petition to the Rosicrucian Order, AMORC and, not long before walking across the graduation stage, I was accepted into the Outer Temple and began my studies.

Over the next decade and beyond, I immersed myself in the lessons—lessons that yielded tangible results in consciousness, clarity, and perception. Although my formal study of the Rosicrucian monographs has since quieted, the teachings remain deeply etched in my awareness. They have been augmented, not displaced, by subsequent unfoldments: my study of Vedic Science; my daily practice of Transcendental Meditation; my entry into the Craft of Freemasonry; my marriage to Mina and our joint dedication as Certified TM Teachers; and of course, the joyful gravity of becoming parents to four radiant souls. The Rosicrucian path was among the first to offer me a structured lens through which to view the invisible architecture of reality. For that, I remain deeply grateful.

But there were other layers as well—some carved in silence, others in ceremony. My path in Freemasonry opened doors of symbolic understanding and moral discipline; first within the Blue Lodge, then the York Rite, and later the Scottish Rite (Southern Jurisdiction). Now, as a Past Master, Past District Deputy Grand Master, a 32° Scottish Rite Freemason, and many other roles along the way, I did not seek rank, but refinement. The degrees are not ladders of superiority—they are mirrors. And each ritual, each symbol, each stone placed in mental stillness is part of the sacred geometry of becoming.

Now, in this iteration of my journey, as husband to Mina and father to our four luminous young souls—Chloë Rose, Emerson James Warren, Tennyson Blake, and Malcolm Aurelius—I see the kaleidoscope turning again. Each day brings new refractions: laughter, questions, growth, and admittedly sometimes exhaustion. But even in the fatigue, there is fulfillment. To raise children while raising consciousness is no easy feat. Yet the integration is the reward. Mina and I homeschool not simply to educate, but to preserve a space where inquiry, care, and inner peace are honoured as the foundation of learning. Here, I am reminded of something a mentor of many years, now within the ancestral realm, Dr. Asa Grant Hilliard, III (1933–2007) (also known as Nana Baffour Amankwatia II and affectionately, “Baba.”) would often remind me of teachers, “If they do not love your children, they cannot teach your children.” This is a message I took to heart, shared with Mina, and we practice when it comes to our Younglings.

People sometimes ask me how I manage so many roles—teacher, scholar, husband, father, mystagogue. But to me, they are not separate. They are facets of one coherent path. Like light passed through a prism, each role reveals a different hue of the same beam.

If there is a lesson I have drawn from this kaleidoscopic life of mine, even with its many lessons—some of which were indeed painful—it is this: meaning does not come from mastery alone, but from alignment. When our outer life begins to mirror our inner knowing, something extraordinary happens. We move through the world with less friction. We speak from the center. We stop performing and begin creating. We stop reacting and begin radiating.

That is why I teach. That is why I write. That is why I develop frameworks, publish reflections, and speak to whomever is willing to listen—because I believe the time is ripe for a return to coherence. Not as dogma. Not as utopia. But as practical, embodied, spiritual living.

There are those who will read these words and find a piece of themselves within them. To those individuals, I say: you are not alone. Your life, too, is kaleidoscopic. And it is no less sacred because of its sometimes painful turns, its pivots, its nonlinear becoming. In fact, that may be where its beauty lies. Believe me. I speak from direct experience of many painful moments—each one now serving as fuel for my continued journey of transformation. Or, dare I say, elegant transition.

So, let us continue—layer by layer, vision by vision—to shape a world that reflects not only what we have inherited, but what we know to be possible. For if enough of us align with that knowing, moving from impossible to I’m possible, we just might build something luminous. Something worthy of the Source from whence we came.

Will you join me?

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Dr. Baruti KMT-Sisouvong, along with his wife, Mina, serves as Director of the Transcendental Meditation Program in Cambridge and the larger area of Metropolitan Boston. They are parents to four beautiful children. To learn more about him, visit his website: https://www.barutikmtsisouvong.com/.