The Place That Taught Me to Be Still

I have always found my higher power in nature. I said that in Part Two of my story, and I meant every word of it. So when I tell you that there is a ten-acre piece of land tucked just off Sunset Boulevard in Pacific Palisades — a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean — where the noise of Los Angeles simply ceases to exist, I need you to understand that I am not exaggerating. The Self-Realization Fellowship Lake Shrine is one of those rare places that stops you in your tracks the moment you walk through the gate. It stopped me.

I had driven past the sign on Sunset more times than I can count. I always meant to stop. I finally did, and I have been going back ever since.

What Is the Lake Shrine?

The Lake Shrine was founded by Paramahansa Yogananda, the Indian yogi and spiritual teacher who brought the ancient science of Kriya Yoga to the West and wrote the beloved classic Autobiography of a Yogi. In 1949, Yogananda acquired this ten-acre property — which had been, in a previous life, a silent film studio, then a private estate with a Dutch windmill — and transformed it into what he called an open-air "shrine of all religions." He dedicated it to the public on August 20, 1950, and 1,500 people came to witness the ceremony.

The story of how the property came to Yogananda is one of my favorite things about this place. The man who owned it before him had a vivid dream — twice in the same night — that his land was a "Church of All Religions." He woke up, looked it up in the phone book, and found only one listing: the Self-Realization Fellowship Church of All Religions in Hollywood. He wrote a letter offering to sell. The next day, before the letter arrived, Yogananda called him. "You have some property for sale, don't you? When can I see it?" If that story doesn't give you chills, I don't know what will.

Walking the Grounds

The moment you pass through the Golden Lotus Archway — which Yogananda himself designed as a "wall-less temple," the lotus being a symbol of the soul's awakening — you feel a shift. It is immediate and unmistakable. The air is different. The pace is different. People walk slowly here, not because they have to, but because something in the place invites you to slow down and actually arrive.

The path winds around a spring-fed lake, past waterfalls, through gardens of roses and tropical plants, past a houseboat that once served as Yogananda's temporary headquarters during construction. There is a Dutch windmill that has been converted into a chapel. There are turtles sunning themselves on logs. There are swans. I am not making this up. There are actual swans.

What strikes me most, though, is not the beauty — though it is undeniably beautiful. It is the silence. Not the absence of sound, because there are birds and water and the distant hum of the city. It is the kind of silence that lives inside you when you finally stop running. I know that silence. I spent a long time trying to outrun it, and an even longer time learning to sit inside it. The Lake Shrine is one of the few places I have found outside of my own meditation practice where that silence is already waiting for you when you arrive.

The Gandhi World Peace Memorial

On the day of the dedication in 1950, Yogananda unveiled the Gandhi World Peace Memorial — the first monument in the world erected in honor of Mahatma Gandhi. A portion of Gandhi's ashes, sent from India by a journalist who knew both men personally, are enshrined in a thousand-year-old stone sarcophagus from China. It sits at the edge of the lake, surrounded by flowers, and it is one of the most quietly powerful things I have ever stood in front of.

I am not a particularly religious person in the traditional sense. I have made peace with that. But standing at that memorial, I felt something I can only describe as reverence — for a life lived in service, for the idea that peace is not passive, and for the reminder that the things worth fighting for are always the things that require the most stillness to understand.

Why This Place Matters for Women Over 40

I want to be honest with you about something. When I was in the thick of my recovery — anxious, unmedicated, raw-dogging life in the mountains of Big Bear — I would have given anything for a place like this. A place that asked nothing of me except that I show up and be quiet for a while. A place that held space for all beliefs, all backgrounds, all the messy, complicated ways that people find their way back to themselves.

The Lake Shrine is free to visit. It is open to everyone, regardless of religion or spiritual background. You do not have to be a follower of Yogananda or a practitioner of yoga or meditation to feel welcome here. You just have to be willing to slow down.

For those of us navigating midlife — the hormonal shifts, the career pivots, the relationships that have changed shape, the grief that accumulates quietly over the years — finding places that restore us is not a luxury. It is a necessity. Meditation is one of the most evidence-backed tools we have for managing anxiety, improving sleep, and regulating the nervous system. But meditation does not always happen on a cushion in a quiet room. Sometimes it happens on a path beside a lake, watching a swan drift past a thousand-year-old stone, and realizing that you are, for the first time in a long time, completely present.

Practical Information

I recommend going on a weekday morning, early, before the rest of the world wakes up. Bring nothing you don't need. Leave your phone in your pocket. Walk slowly. Let the place do what it does.

You'll know what I mean when you get there.

Have you visited the Lake Shrine, or do you have a place in nature that restores you? I'd love to hear about it in the comments below.