<<Another little-understood practice that came from India with Maharaji in the '70s is Arti, a song sung to the teacher or to members of his family. Arti is performed not only in front of a teacher or master but also on many other occasions: a son returning from a long journey, a sister honoring her brother or to honor the successful completion of an important endeavor. On a handful of occasions in the past decade, some Western students have sung Arti as an expression of the gratitude they feel to their teacher.>>

Can't quite see where 'You are my all, my Lord to me' works here, and I think reducing 'every day, twice a day, for four or five years' to a handful of occasions is a little dishonest!  Just a tad. I always felt dishonest and uncomfortable singing those words, mind you; though I really wanted to achieve that mythical state of 'no doubts' which was where 'It' happened, (realisation of knowledge, liberation or bliss, or something) I just couldn't.  It was that elusive goal, kept me trying, attending satsang, meditating, doing a bit of service, even...a bit like being addicted to a soap opera, really.  You can't help watching because you want the resolution to something, but it just keeps stringing you along.