This is the part where you get a quick sound bite about the writer. Thirty seconds of biting repartee to contain the infinite soul into one square paragraph. However, that's not possible, is it? What is possible to know is that Forrest Knutson is a lover of the ancient and obscure; who left the safety of the ashram to pursue a self-reliant life as a yogi householder. That person is just a mask though; part of the egoity necessary to function in society. While that ego is something we don't shed completely until an extremely deep union with the Infinite, it is possible to wear it loosely. And that breathe of freedom is what drives the author's life.