The Last Crossword – A Play (video)

A fresh take on the subject of crossword puzzles, spirituality, and death (with some talking animals thrown in for good measure)

This is a short play I wrote in 2004, based on Sri Chinmoy’s telling of a traditional story about Ramdas Kathiya Baba. The story, called “I am going Home,” may be read online at Sri Chinmoy Library:

The play was performed in Bali in early 2004, with Devashishu Torpy playing Ramdas Kathiya Baba, and Sahadeva Torpy his crossword-loving disciple Rakhal (a very moving performance!).

Look for Kanan as the cow, Sanjay as the tiger, with special guest appearance by Ketan Tamm as the roving reporter — a character not in the original story, but being more in the nature of a gratuitous anachronism.

The play was performed outdoors, and according to one apocryphal story, when Sanjay made his exit by leaping over a wall (souple et féroce comme un tigre), he thoroughly startled a casual observer! Thank you to everyone who made the play possible, including the videographers.

I re-dedicate this play to Sri Chinmoy on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of his Mahasamadhi.

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Bithika O’Dwyer: A Tale of Two Psyches

Making sense of the psychological split which some apostates appear to exhibit

As discussed previously, people often write detailed accounts of their lives while with a spiritual group. These accounts tend to reflect a thinking, feeling individual who is living out their spiritual choices, consciously reaffirming those choices day after day, year after year. But later, after exiting the spiritual group, the same individual may supply a “captivity narrative” in connection with participation in a so-called “ex-cult support group.” The captivity narrative may seem contrived, formulaic, and scripted in comparison to the same person’s prior narrative describing spiritual experiences with uniqueness, and in detail.

This phenomenon suggests a psychological split in someone who was once a spiritual seeker, but who later adopts a hard apostate stance. Comparing their written statements over a period of decades, we may find two mutually exclusive world views and contradictory sets of alleged facts, as if the accounts were written by two different people. Hence, “a tale of two psyches.” Such is the case with Bithika O’Dwyer, whose public apostatizing seems intended to provoke controversy and raise matters of public concern. I respond to those matters here and elsewhere, and with as much sympathy as I can muster (though not always as much as I should like).

Not that her case is unique. Apostates sometimes make a great show of breaking with their former faith group by posting lewd or hateful material on the Internet. Such “testimonials” are then collated and used as part of a degradation ceremony belittling spiritual groups and portraying them negatively to the general public. This technique is used by anti-cult groups to create a set of “alternative facts” about spiritual groups running counter to the facts established by bonafide scholars of religion and by spiritual practitioners themselves. The intent is to suppress, harass, limit the civil rights of, and discourage participation in minority faith groups.

In this vein, I have been critical of attorney Joe Kracht of the Lawton law firm of San Diego for conducting Internet show trials of deceased spiritual figures where he is both judge and jury, exculpatory evidence is suppressed or ignored, and no genuine defence is permitted.

Where spiritual figures or groups are prosecuted in absentia by Internet demagogues, the so-called “evidence” often consists of an emotionally charged apostate testimonial which, though fictional, is designed to push people’s hot buttons and work them into a nativist lather. The evidence being suppressed or ignored is that same person’s prior written statements extolling the spiritual figure or group in question.

To a well-grounded legal mind, the fact that the same person tells two completely different stories is first and foremost an indicator that this person is not a reliable witness. But should one find it necessary to judge which of two conflicting stories is most accurate, only an idiot would assume that the most recent story must be the most accurate. When all the evidence is considered (rather than being suppressed or ignored), the story which is told most consistently over an extended period of time, and which also comports with generally known facts, tends to be the most accurate.

So one way to debunk false accounts which raise matters of public concern or threaten to infect the popular imagination is to produce the same person’s more voluminous and persuasive accounts written over an extended period, which dramatically contradict her (more recent) apostate testimonial. See, for example, “False Salon Story: What was said at the time,” which debunks the claims of Celia Corona-Doran (a.k.a. Suchatula Cecilia Corona) by referencing her prior statements.

I started the Digital Citizens project on Scribd.com to house such accurate source material debunking false claims. You can read the Digital Citizens Mission Statement here. Some key points are:

Digital Citizens helps bring to light and make available evidence which is being suppressed elsewhere. This material is relevant and necessary to resolving public controversies which have been artificially manufactured through the circulation of material containing false depictions of spiritual figures and groups. This leads to other adverse effects in society, such as making minority spiritual groups the object of hatred and harassment, or contaminating the prospective jury pool where such groups are targeted for civil litigation. The net effect is to curtail the civil rights of minority adherents, in contravention of the U.S. Constitution as amended by the Bill of Rights.

The corrective measure of uploading exculpatory evidence is a lawful purpose and protected form of speech. Where Person A purposefully manufactures a public controversy by attacking the character and reputation of Person B through the circulation of hateful or salacious material, the public has a right to view other material authored by Person A (or concerning Person A) which speaks to his or her credibility. In such cases, the public’s right to know trumps other interests. Uploading of such material deemed necessary to resolving matters of public concern constitutes fair use of existing source material.

In keeping with these principles, I am today uploading to Digital Citizens the document “Bithika O’Dwyer Testimonials” which contains a representative cross-section of material authored by or concerning Ms. O’Dwyer during the period when she was a member in good standing of Sri Chinmoy Centre — a period comprising roughly 1979-2014.

This makes compelling reading for anyone who was taken in by the type of hate material circulated by Joe Kracht. Obviously, the most compelling witness testifying against Bithika O’Dwyer is Bithika O’Dwyer! One half of her (apparently) split psyche is far more consistent and reliable than the other, and the accompanying photos underscore the truthfulness of her contemporaneous accounts describing a spiritual life with which she was abundantly happy. To quote Ms. O’Dwyer from “Beauty is my Light”:

As a woman, I have everything I need to progress — I believe that I live a truly modern life. I have many older sisters and a very beautiful and supportive spiritual family. I hope that I may grow into women half as beautiful as some of them. I treasure their joys and their sorrows, and the more generations that are included in our family the more special the bonds of love and friendship. I have projects to work on within my own community — a business to support myself independently (which means a lot to me), musical and artistic projects, fun projects like plays and games, and always colour, decorations, abundance. This path is a garden where you can find a representative of everything and everyone under the sun, thriving and living side-by-side with even diametrically opposed aspects in harmony. I am not given to “fluffy” gratitude — when you grow up with spiritual terms, I think you come to the point that you have to really redefine some of the terms again for yourself, or the language can become cliched; but I know that in my future births, I shall look back on this life as the turning point. Wherever I go from here, I know that I have been so deeply altered by these 26 years, that my destiny has been rewritten. I know that I now believe in the “impossible” dream — of a divine life on earth. I have as many incarnations as it will take to manifest that dream, but that belief is so priceless. I know I shall personally honour Sri Chinmoy’s sacrifices to bring this truth to me for all my days, for all eternity.

Bitihika O’Dwyer and Sarada Crowe, running in a Joy Weekend event, October 2004.

Ms. O’Dwyer wrote such positive accounts both before and after Sri Chinmoy’s passing (which occurred in 2007), and she remained an active member of Sri Chinmoy Centre until 2014.

Why does someone leave a well-organized spiritual path with no history of abuse? We cannot always know the reasons to a certitude, but we discussed many possible reasons in Part 1 and Part 2. Such reasons are augmented by They Came Only To Go: The Birthless and Deathless Chronicles of Himalayan Absurdity.

I would not publicly speculate about the motives of a private person by name; but apostasy is not a private, personal decision. The apostate makes a great public show of her newfound rejection of faith, and actively (even aggressively) seeks to persuade others to abandon their faith and attack their former faith group. Those who take an active public role by posting hate material on the Internet (thus provoking controversy) may lose some expectation of privacy in the bargain. The harms caused by circulation of such hate material are tangible harms for which one remedy is to shine the light of truth on false claims made by the apostate.

That said, I genuinely admire Bithika O’Dwyer for her spirituality, her creativity, her intellect, and for all the good she did during an extended period of her life when she defined herself primarily as a spiritual seeker. Pointing out the inaccuracy of her later claims is not a pleasant task; and in spite of feeling an ethical necessity to do so, I have put it off repeatedly.

What I would add to previous discussions is that in reading Ms. O’Dwyer’s spiritual chronicles, we can observe some unique aspects of her own nature and struggles. She is clearly a sincere spiritual aspirant, and her own way of relating to the spiritual quest is a highly dramatic one. She’s prone to ecstatic highs and despondent lows, and this creates for her a sense of the spiritual life as a series of dramatic encounters with the Guru and his teachings. This is not true of everyone. Some people have a more steady, easy-going nature, do not experience such dramatic highs and lows, and are able to progress in a more natural way, with less inner conflict and less of a sense of themselves as players in some Grand Drama.

One of the subjects we tackled in Part 1 was the many mundane or prosaic reasons why people leave a spiritual path, and why they sometimes disguise these mundane reasons with an over-the-top “atrocity story” which simply isn’t true.

In the case of Ms. O’Dwyer, my personal belief is that she left for fairly conventional reasons such as losing interest and intensity, no longer having her teacher present in the physical to inspire her, no longer wanting to fight the “inner battle” with herself, and because she still had desires and ambitions which took her back to worldly life, to career and romance. But because she’s a Dramatique by nature, she can’t accept such mundane reasons for leaving, and has to create a dramatic narrative which vindicates her rather than making her appear weak and foolish, or implying that she betrayed a high and noble goal which she had long cherished as her raison d’être.

Still, in fairness to her and others, I don’t want to minimize the difficulties of the spiritual quest. Some (by no means all) seekers experience ups and downs, highs and lows, struggles with faith and doubt and with the complexities of their own nature. These struggles can be painful.

Sushmitam Rouse is a psychologist by profession, but also a spiritual seeker. According to her, spiritual work is a lot like good therapy. Ms. Rouse writes:

Now for the issue you raise of women who claim to have experienced abuse. I’ve worked as a psychologist and psychotherapist for many years now, so have quite a bit of experience in this area. I agree wholeheartedly with your comment on the innocence and purity of Guru’s consciousness, which I think results in women feeling safe in the centre and with Guru. I know there are some women on the path who have had difficult or traumatic experiences with men when they were living in the world, who have taken refuge in the safety offered by the centre. It would be easy to conclude from this that the centre functions for such women as a way of repressing these experiences rather than working them through. This view of the spiritual life is quite commonly held by secular people, and arises from a fundamental lack of understanding about the inner work and process of transformation involved in leading a spiritual life. Whilst in the short term a person on our path can avoid dealing with difficult personal issues, in the longer term the profoundly transformative experience of meditating with Sri Chinmoy usually means that we cannot stay with our repression for too long.

In my experience, any psychological issues that need to be dealt with rear their heads once we are spiritually strong enough to deal with them. They can then be worked through under Sri Chinmoy’s loving inner guidance. Usually when this happens there is a period of struggle, which manifests outwardly, and we say to each other “Oh she’s just going through Stuff” (do the guys talk like this too?). It is actually quite similar to the process involved in good psychotherapy, but on a vastly different level. Mostly, the person eventually works the issue through and is able to move on to the next challenge. Just like in therapy and in life, some people get stuck on a certain issue for a long time, and others leave the path because it’s just too hard to deal with it, or some part of them actually likes the problem and doesn’t want to resolve it. Guru never forces us to resolve issues, he just provides us with the inner assistance, and the safe and loving environment to enable us to work them through.

By the way, for anyone interested in reading about this process at play in another spiritual path, read the book ‘Unveiled: Nuns Talking’ by Mary Loudon — a superb first person account of the lives of nuns in various Christian orders in the UK.

– Sushmitam Rouse from “Question For The Women” (discussion thread)

Her analysis is fascinating, not least because it comports with some of Bithika O’Dwyer’s own observations. In “Beauty is my Light,” Ms. O’Dwyer writes:

Because my spiritual training was primarily in silence, I was developing very naturally outwardly with every aspect of my developing mind, and meanwhile the love and kindness were seeping into my soul and I was pleasantly marinating in them, eventually to emerge as a completely transformed individual. Sri Chinmoy’s guidance was laid out as a benchmark, but I was given complete free will to discover my own truth. It was always a “given” that the pursuit of the spiritual heart was the key to divine experience — Guru did say this time and again. But his understanding of the unfoldment of a soul, the timing of illuminations and so forth were impeccable — telling us how things were was not his style — but helping us to truly discover for ourselves the truth. I think of him as a true friend — allowing the individual the joys and sorrows of existence and his/her free experience, while always being there to help at any moment. When I think of how many acts of kindness I experienced, inner and outer, tears come. I was not given to obeying my parents or even the best wishes of my Guru at times, and had many adventures while trying to discover who I was. I was always met with a loving and tender kindness. Forgiveness comes to Sri Chinmoy faster than it will ever come to any. And always oneness — a full understanding of where you as an individual are and what your needs are. He was a pure channel of divine light in my vision, but again and again I was struck by his humanity also — such impeccable nobility, endless giving to all around — of his time, money, affection, concern. My own wilfulness was no match for his quiet, silent, sweeter than the sweetest eye. Not for long, at least.

It was these honest reflections on the inner journey (along with her many other good qualities) which made Bithika O’Dwyer well-loved among her friends at Sri Chinmoy Centre.

Following up on the passage from Sushmitam Rouse: Maybe not all spiritual paths and types of therapy are equally compatible; but among those which are, perhaps the shared element is “inner truth.” In spiritual work, as in good therapy, one tries to get at the inner truth and to transform what needs to be transformed. As human beings most of us have broken places inside us which are tender to the touch, and things which seem too painful to deal with. Yet, in both spiritual work and good therapy, we are guided into those broken, painful places so that we might ultimately manage to transform them.

To transform our nature takes tremendous patience and dedication, and at times we may have to tough it out or slog through mud. As the popular children’s song by Michael Rosen goes:

We’re going on a bear hunt.
We’re going to catch a big one.
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared.

Uh-oh! Mud!
Thick oozy mud.
We can’t go over it.
We can’t go under it.
Oh no!
We’ve got to go through it!

Squelch squelch!
Squelch squelch!
Squelch squelch!

We’ve got to go through it! Otherwise, the only other choice is to run all the way home, lock the door, throw the covers over our heads, and declare: “We’re not going on a bear hunt again!” (That’s how the children’s song ends.)

People sometimes leave a spiritual path for the same reasons they leave therapy: because the next steps involve dealing with those broken places and painful truths. Some therapists will candidly admit that while many come for therapy, this can be just another panic button to press; yet the person pressing the “therapy button” doesn’t always want to change beyond a certain point, and may become extremely hostile when the therapist gets too close to problem areas.

In the case of spiritual work with Sri Chinmoy, he shines a very powerful inner light which the student needs to prepare himself/herself to receive. That light penetrates to the core of one’s weaknesses in order to transform them. This does not happen all at once, but rather over the course of many years and many spiritual experiences. It is a cooperative process. The challenge for the student is to remain open, willing, and receptive to that light. Sometimes the way the light operates is that it is like removing a thorn from our foot: when the light touches the darkness in our nature, we may experience pain and then a feeling of freedom and release.

There needs to be a bond of love and trust between the Guru and disciple, because this relationship in which the Guru intervenes personally to dispel darkness in the disciple’s nature is an intimate relationship, though it is not at all sexual.

Just as we need to trust a surgeon who will be removing a malignant tumor, we also need to trust the Guru to use light to dispel darkness. In some cases, when the inner light enters into the darkness of our nature, we may experience some pain. This pain, if it occurs, is associated with the process of transformation. In the process of surrendering to light, darkness cries out and sheds tears. Then, afterwards, we feel so much lighter! (Here again, parallels with good therapy.) In “My Guru Sri Chinmoy,” Bithika O’Dwyer writes:

All this smiling business coincided with my pockets of depression. It’s one of those things that I understand only in hindsight. Forces from within me were playing out some dark history or drama such that I went through pockets of depression in my spiritual quest – I hear that this is not uncommon as we unravel previous behaviour patterns built up over centuries. When I would see him and he would make these comments I see now that he was applying an equal and opposite force to counteract this on so many levels. Those little acid comments fell into my heart and gradually grew into a few different trees of strength – not first without releasing floods of tears and pain that were deeply rooted in my heart and for which I had no explanation. Every visit to New York would be accompanied by hours of tears – deeply cleansing, cathartic experiences that left me so much lighter at the end.

According to Sri Chinmoy, people may shed tears for various reasons. Sometimes it is an emotional outburst coming from the untransformed vital. At other times, it is the soul’s joy expressing itself through the physical. In her spiritual memoir Auspicious Good Fortune, Sumangali Morhall writes of the first time she met her Guru:

Disciples from Britain, and some from Europe, clustered at the arrival hall in Heathrow’s Terminal Three. Their greetings buzzed around me, brimming with anticipation of the Master’s appearance, but most of them had seen him only weeks before in New York. I had never seen him at all. Aware of this fact, a few kindly made space for me at the front without me asking. I gazed out from the barrier into the strip of empty floor, amidst the canned announcements and artificial light, waiting for my Guru to appear in the world as he had done so many times in my heart.

Somewhere inside the bustle was a bubble of quietude, where for the first time I genuinely sought aloneness. There was the same familiar feeling in the centre of my chest as I had felt before, like the press of many tiny fingers. Inside it that time, I was aware of a flat disc rotating slowly. Tiny parts unfolded from its centre, as if each had always fitted neatly into the other, waiting only for that moment. It was like the intricate workings of some fantastical safe as it unlocked, one layer inside the other inside the other, the colours of each deeper level more vivid than the last. When I was sure the scene in my heart could not be more brilliant or beautiful, the outer doors slid open, and my Guru appeared: neither in the robes of a Thai monk, nor in a satin dhoti, but in a thick down jacket, track pants and running shoes. His head was bare, and a familiar hand peeped out from the end of a padded sleeve. He walked slowly with a full smile, gazing about from one side to another, but seeming to see another realm altogether. Barely six feet away, he looked right into me with eyes made of endless galaxies. Tears swelled in mine, and more tears and more tears again: they would not stop for twelve hours.

Equipped with an unglamorous wad of paper napkins from a restaurant, I took my red velvet seat at the Albert Hall that evening. Had I come for a theatrical performance, I would have been studying a printed programme, or the lighting, or the ornate mouldings. As it was, I had enough to do catching the tears that had been raining steadily all day from just one glimpse of my spiritual Master, and inwardly attempting to prepare myself for several hours in his presence.

So these appear to be tears of joy. Sri Chinmoy writes:

The smiles that arise
From tears
Are unimaginably beautiful.

http://www.srichinmoylibrary.com/st-41750

and also:

The beauty of tears
Changes human life sooner than at once.
The duty of smiles
Also changes human life sooner than at once.
The union of tears and smiles
Makes God and man embrace each other,
Fulfil each other
And satisfy each other.

http://www.srichinmoylibrary.com/tp-703

Sri Chinmoy smiling

Elaborating on a topic from Part 1, we can say that the spiritual quest entails an inner struggle between light and darkness. Some people are fortunate to develop simplicity and purity in their nature, and find it easy to remain in the spiritual heart so that the struggle does not seem so intense or extreme, and does not affect their mental balance.

Others may (in spite of their best intentions) have to struggle more with the mind, and therefore experience the spiritual life in a more dramatic and subjective fashion. All that personal drama (which they themselves bring as karmic baggage) can become wearing over time, causing them to lose freshness and enthusiasm.

The spiritual path can be a joy to the heart and a burden to the mind. If one is following Sri Chinmoy’s path of the heart, then the joy and sweetness found in the heart are needed for the journey. Due to their mental approach, some people may reach a point where it stops being fun due to too much self-created drama. For them, the spiritual life becomes something grandiose clutched by the ego, whereas it’s ideally something simple and natural, plain and unpretentious (like doing the laundry, to use a Buddhist simile courtesy Jack Kornfield).

A careful reading of Bithika O’Dwyer’s “My Guru Sri Chinmoy” suggests that she was struggling with such issues, and that she hoped to firmly commit to a heart-centered approach. She wrote:

And so a smile became my emblem for change, for growth. I saw it as my commitment to a higher consciousness – as my self-offering, as a way to express my gratitude for existence on this earth, for that capacity to value Light and hold it at the earth plane. It was unimaginably powerful when this started to finally burn through my life, illumining so many of the dark corners. Added into this was Guru’s ever present quest for his children to bring sweetness into human life – another pride-smasher for an independent feminist who wanted to find her way as a cool and powerful woman, in any way but via the stereotypically sweet, mild and bending traditional female values that I associated with centuries of neglect, abuse and servitude! I am not sure how I swallowed that one, but once the penny had started to drop with the smile issue, I realised this one had to go too. It all fell into place and I gradually learn that we cannot hold onto any preconceived ideas about who we are, or who we should or want to be. The divine Light is not any of it, but a pure electricity that we put the ridiculous shades onto, and can just as easily take them off if we have the courage.

I now see real strength as the simple qualities of the heart – a willingness to smile and offer of oneself, the sweet and childlike approach to life which is ever fresh, pure and innocent – and not as the rigid, brittle morality and integrity which so often fails to fulfil us emotionally and spiritually in the final analysis, and which is the source of so many of the detrimental conditions of this earth. I find Guru’s message one that I can build my entire existence upon: follow your heart, follow your heart, follow your heart … I hope that he can feel my tears of gratitude for the immense power he sent into my heart just by opening this small ridiculous topic.

About three years later she simply “lost it,” which is very sad for her, and also sad for those who loved her as a friend and sister. Unfortunately, her particular way of losing it was to become extremely hostile toward her former friends, teacher, and path. So as I’ve said before, it’s hard to love and forgive someone who’s throwing rocks at church windows — at least while the (metaphorical) glass is still tinkling and people are checking themselves for cuts and bruises.

In Part 1, I mentioned one of the reasons for leaving a spiritual path is that someone encounters a rough patch in their own nature. I did not elaborate, but I think we’re all susceptible to running into something recalcitrant within ourselves such that we feel we can’t go over it, can’t go under it, and can’t go through it either. So (consistent with the quote from Sushmitam Rouse), this is one reason some people leave a spiritual path.

Recognizing this does not trivialize the very real pain some people go through doing spiritual work, and does not trivialize the pain of leaving a spiritual path if one finds one can no longer continue on. But it’s important not to blame such suffering — which is part and parcel of the human condition — on the path and teacher, since they’re not the root causes of such suffering (just as it’s not the therapist’s fault that the client has to confront stubborn problems). Buddhist author Jack Kornfield writes:

For almost everyone who practices, cycles of awakening and openness are followed by periods of fear and contraction. Times of profound peace and newfound love are often overtaken by periods of loss, by closing up, fear, or the discovery of betrayal, only to be followed again by equanimity or joy. In mysterious ways the heart reveals itself to be like a flower that opens and closes. This is our nature.

– Jack Kornfield, from After the Ecstasy, the Laundry: How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path

Whether or not this is true of “almost everyone,” the point is that we need to maintain some constancy in our relationships with others despite these positive and negative cycles. During a negative cycle, we don’t try and burn down the church or temple where we once experienced ecstasy. On days when the sky is filled with clouds, we don’t curse the sun or claim that the sun never existed. Whether we’re feeling cheerful or depressed, we still try to be guided by ethics and common sense, and remain loyal to those who befriended and nurtured us.

As I discuss in “Making Sense of the Spiritual Life,” some people have genuine spiritual needs. If they end their spiritual practice during a negative cycle, they may even become physically ill because they’re no longer meeting those needs — no longer getting the benefits of spiritual practice, which include subtle health benefits not noticed until they are absent.

For reasons spiritual, ethical, and karmic, it is not advisable to adopt a slash-and-burn mentality when leaving a spiritual path. For more on this, see “Doubt, Faith, and the Ethics of Apostasy.”

Bithika O’Dwyer’s own writings bring to light similar reasons. In “My Guru Sri Chinmoy,” she writes:

I had unfortunate friends who were hungry and demanded experience beyond their capacity because they felt it would boost their social position and just out of general ignorance – they couldn’t deal with the result at all and before long they had denounced there ever having been Truth and given up spiritual pursuit on principle. Their hunger was mixed with a personal greed and I watched their journey with pain, as they were close friends, and with a sense that it could so easily be me. The goal is oneness with a vast universal consciousness beyond the personal ego, and on the way their personal greed was blown open and they did not have the strength to overcome it and jump to the wider consciousness. It is a very real danger when the timing of growth is not respected – the cake is pulled out of the oven yet to be fully cooked because of the impatience to eat it, and it flops and gives you a stomach pain. I said goodbye to those friends as their reality shrunk to the painful stump of their personal anger being brandished at the infinite – Guru often got the brunt of their anger, and I understood in one way because his messages for us were often infuriating and painful, but there was a choice and they chose to remain with a smaller part of their being for a while longer. He was not afraid to draw that response either, as growth always came first, and this was a territorial risk he made himself vulnerable to.

Every length of the road has tests that you need to pass in order to have the capacity to take the next curve. You have to respect the order of this or there is danger. The Guru helps you to get the best possible opportunities. He bargains for you and prepares the way for you and tells you of the dangers and helps you through the challenges. But most of all he believes in you and challenges you to grow where others would tell you to stop dreaming. When you are ready, he will not let you shirk the challenge. He has been there. He is master of Time and Space and knows the methods that will work. I saw him caution my friends in so many ways and for so many years before they bit off more than they could chew, but I also saw him finally allow them the choice to make their own destiny. And I know he will be with them through their suffering, be the source of renewed hope at some stage, and in due course lift them back up to continue on with increased wisdom. The road is very long. It began for me before my mind existed to try to make sense of things, and it will continue on long after my mental capacities dissolve away – only my soul will live to tell the tale. And my soul will always be guided by my beloved Guru Sri Chinmoy, for he lit the flames in my heart, has watched over them like a mother for so many years, and is inextricably linked to my existence.

The above passage, written by Ms. O’Dwyer in 2011 (four years after Sri Chinmoy’s passing), contains much wisdom (and also showcases her flair for the dramatic). That she ultimately seemed to make the same mistakes as friends she spoke of is a tragedy. In my view, she then compounded that tragedy by taking a slash-and-burn approach to her departure. This makes it harder to repair the damage, to allow her teacher to “be with her through her suffering, be the source of renewed hope at some stage, and in due course lift her back up to continue on with increased wisdom.”

Suppose you find yourself in a dark room. There is always hope that someone will come with a light and illumine it. But if you also lock the door from the inside and announce your intention to harm anyone who tries to help you, and are arrogantly proud of the darkness you have chosen, then the situation becomes less workable. Sri Chinmoy writes:

Light will illumine all our bad qualities. Our ‘bad qualities’ means our darkness. Darkness can only be conquered by light. A room may be full of darkness for years. Then an electrician comes and in a few minutes he brings light into the room. Similarly, we have to bring light into all our imperfections. When we get illumination, all our insecurity, jealousy, impurity, impatience — everything — will be illumined. Light is the answer. The sooner we bring light into our system from Above or bring light to the fore from within the better for us. Otherwise, at any moment we can make mistakes. Light does not make any mistake. It is because we do not have light in boundless measure that we make mistakes. Each mistake is nothing short of darkness. When darkness expresses itself, it becomes a mistake.

Light is the answer. Why should we compel God to use His iron rod? When He was using His Compassion-Eye, what was wrong with us? Why did we not change our nature? If we love God, then we have to feel that God’s Tears are infinitely more powerful than God’s Smiles. If we are weak, then when God smiles at us, either we feel that we did not make any mistake or that God has forgiven us. This is how we deceive ourselves. But God’s Tears offer us another way. If we see tears flowing in God’s Eyes because of our mistake, how can we bear to see His Heart bleeding? If we see that somebody’s heart is bleeding, will we not give our life to make that person happy? And do we not love God infinitely more than we love any human being? So God’s Tears are infinitely more powerful than God’s Smiles. If we want to transform our nature, God’s Tears will be of real help to us.

True, God’s Smiles encourage us, but at the same time, we may misinterpret God’s Smiles. We may go on and on making the same mistakes and still God may give us a Smile. Inside His Smile, God may be suffering, but we take it as encouragement. In one sense, God also takes it as encouragement because He hopes that if He gives us a broad Smile, we will not make the same mistake again. But unfortunately, it does not work.

If you really love God and if you see that He is shedding bitter tears, He is lamenting, He is suffering, then you will immediately transform your life.

If you are good people, then when you do something wrong, you will not hide from God. You will come and stand before Him and say, “I have done something wrong. Now please forgive me. Please illumine me.”

– Sri Chinmoy, from Sri Chinmoy Answers, Part 27, Agni Press, 2000

Conclusions

Reality has a certain fabric to it. It is woven together in one particular way and not some other way. (Cats don’t play the tuba, and flowers grow up not down.) The authors quoted here present a consistent picture of reality. If someone wants to create their own reality, this self-created reality will not be consistent with reality proper, so why should we accept it? The problem with apostate testimonials is that they often fail to jibe with the fabric of reality.

These are my opinions on matters of public concern which I did not raise, but rather were raised by Bithika O’Dwyer in the course of her activities opposing her former faith group. I genuinely wish her every happiness. Where I’ve weighed in on personal issues, this has been done as a defensive measure or bulwark against hate. Once someone brings their case before the public, they are then at the mercy of the public. This is something lawyers like Joe Kracht don’t always adequately explain to clients or protégés before taking them public.

The issues raised are nevertheless not unique to Ms. O’Dwyer, but apply broadly to the apostate phenomenon. The word “phenomenon” is helpful here, because one definition of a phenomenon is something which you can’t necessarily explain, but which you simply learn to live with or work around.

For some wholly mysterious reason, your installation of Microsoft Windows always crashes on rainy Thursdays. You try and troubleshoot the problem, but can make no ultimate sense of it. So either you don’t turn on your computer on rainy Thursdays, or maybe you switch to Mac or Linux.

A famous entry in the collection of haiku error messages goes:

yesterday it worked
today it is not working
Windows is like that

We cannot know all the inner or outer reasons why someone who was yesterday a devoted seeker is today throwing rocks at church windows, nor do we have time to study the problem endlessly. Since our own spiritual quest is of paramount importance, we simply learn to work around the problems created by others, helping where we can, but accepting that some phenomena are beyond our ken. And hey, people are like that.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization. See my About page for further disclaimers.


Book Cover Project

Here are the book covers for this post, mostly courtesy Sri Chinmoy Libary:

Of Further Interest

Doubt, Faith, and the Ethics of Apostasy
Making Sense of the Spiritual Life
A Question of Forgiveness

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On Apostate Accounts or Testimonials, Part 2

How accurate are the stories told by ex-members about spiritual groups? Having discussed general concepts in Part 1, let us now turn to the case of Bithika O’Dwyer.

In wading into the thickets of the sordid Bithika O’Dwyer controversy, I thought it important to deal first with general concepts concerning apostasy, so-called ex-cult support groups, atrocity stories, and the like. (See Part 1.) This is consistent with the approach taken in understanding any complex phenomenon: First understand the nature of the thing, then see how general principles apply to specific cases.

In Part 1, we spent a long time going over the reasons why someone who leaves a well-organized spiritual path with no history of abuse may nevertheless begin telling over-the-top atrocity stories upon leaving. That is the crux of the confusion faced by many people trying to make sense of the phenomenon, and I daresay we made progress in understanding it, both intellectually and emotionally. Buried within Part 1 is this gem of wisdom from psychologist Sushmitam Rouse which I would like to repeat at the outset of Part 2:

I remember an experience I had when I was quite new on the path — a year or two perhaps. I was overwhelmed by the love, the peace and the experiences of God that I had gained on the path, but at the same time was struggling with some of the lifestyle aspects of the path. I realised at this time that my positive experiences far outweighed my struggles and that I definitely did not want to leave the path. However in dealing with this struggle, I came to the realisation that if anything ever pulled me away from the path, the only way I would be able to bear to leave, would be to destroy in my mind all the positive experiences I had gained — otherwise the grief of leaving would be completely overwhelming. Everything good would have to be made bad, everything pure made impure, in order to justify to myself such an action.

I have seen a number of people leave the centre over the years, and in my experience, it is those, like myself who have had tremendously positive experiences in their spiritual life, who resort to this destructive measure — and often they publicise their opinions, as if to further convince themselves they have left something ‘bad’ not good. On the other hand, people who never got much out of the path in the first place, just tend to drift away.

Lastly, I would like to say a word about the place of therapy in all this! The issue of abuse and therapy is such a complex and controversial one. It is well known in the psychological community that some therapists encourage patients to ‘dig’ for abuse that was never there, and that some patients completely unconsciously project their own impulses and traumas onto others who they then believe ‘abused’ them.

– Sushmitam Rouse from “Question For The Women” (discussion thread) 

I also want to repost this passage which I find helpful in navigating the spiritual, psychological, and ethical issues:

When someone studies with a spiritual teacher, the teacher becomes an important part of her life. Even if she ends her studies, her former teacher will usually be someone with whom she needs to live on comfortable terms. A healthy narrative truth emerging in therapy is one which doesn’t attempt to demonize the former teacher or alienate the former student. When therapists violate these principles, this may be seen as abusive, just as inducing Parental Alienation Syndrome is considered a form of parental abuse.

One of the universally recognized symptoms of PAS is lack of ambivalence. Quite simply, the parent from whom the child has been alienated is seen as completely bad and evil. Lack of ambivalence is unnatural behaviour in human beings. Rarely can someone of basic intelligence, maturity and emotional stability support the notion that one person is completely bad.

Yet, when people receive anti-cult counselling or participate in ex-cult support groups, they tend to undergo a pathological inversion of views. They are systematically alienated from their former spiritual teacher, to the point where they depict him/her as thoroughly bad and inhumanly evil. This may be described as Guru Alienation Syndrome, or GAS.

The reason such systematic alienation should be considered a form of abuse is that it effectively robs the former student of all the benefits of having a spiritual teacher, including the ability to interact positively with that teacher, and to enjoy loving memories of that teacher. Unambivalent hatred of the spiritual teacher doesn’t just harm the hated teacher, but also the former student.

While not everyone seeks out a spiritual teacher, for those who do — and who have studied for 5, 10 or 20 years with that teacher — there is an existing relationship which typically has many positive aspects and serves an important purpose in the student’s life. The loss of that relationship is a grievous loss. A wise and compassionate therapist, counsellor, or friend will therefore not attempt to destroy that relationship by circulating hate material vilifying the teacher.

However, just as divorcing parents sometimes play tug-of-war with the child, in anti-cult circles one often encounters manipulative people who want to play tug-of-war with the former spiritual student. They feel the only way for such students to prove their newfound loyalty to mainstream secular values is to loudly proclaim their hatred for the spiritual teacher. Circulating vilification material is one of the tactics used to fan such hatred; and willingness to publicly voice such hatred becomes a kind of loyalty test or perverse indicator of “cult recovery.”

These quotes help set the stage for Part 2.

Part 2: Bithika O’Dwyer

I would like to say at the outset that I wish Ms. O’Dwyer every happiness. That doesn’t prevent me from taking pains to correct the public record where she has acted purposefully to sully or confuse it by posting false and lurid depictions on the Internet.

Please recall from Part 1 that apostasy is not a private, personal decision. The apostate makes a great public show of her newfound rejection of faith, and actively seeks to persuade or influence others to join her in rejecting faith. The apostate “atrocity story” is a public relations tool used by anti-cult groups to vilify minority spiritual groups, leading to harassment or diminution of rights for such groups.

In the case of Bithika O’Dwyer, we have someone who followed a spiritual path for 35 years, wrote many detailed articles about her positive experiences, and was videoed and photographed participating in activities like singing, sports, fun excursions, etc. She’s an intelligent person and gifted writer who wrote clearly and unmistakably about the benefits of the spiritual life, its many challenges, and how she faced them with the help of her teacher, of whom she spoke glowingly. Her positive accounts during that 35-year period were viewed by her friends along the path as being accurate and commendable. Those positive accounts were written both before and after Sri Chinmoy’s death in 2007.

Yet, upon leaving Sri Chinmoy Centre in 2014, she gravitated towards an Internet based ex-cult support group started by attorney Joseph C. Kracht of the Lawton law firm of San Diego. I have been critical of Mr. Kracht for conducting Internet show trials of deceased spiritual figures where he is both judge and jury, exculpatory evidence is suppressed or ignored, and no genuine defence is permitted.

When Bithika O’Dwyer became associated with Joe Kracht’s ex-cult support group, she soon began churning out boilerplate anti-cult material which can only be described charitably as absolute bollocks. It simply doesn’t jibe with her own extensive prior accounts, with the accounts of close friends who knew her over a period of decades, with the available evidence, and with scholarly research on the spiritual movement in question. This raises a number of factual, ethical and legal issues which I may deal with elsewhere; but see (for example) this post discussing the problem of false accusations of a teacher in relation to the film Term of Trial.

One of the troubling features of the pop psychology movements of the 1990s (some of which survive today) is the belief that objective truth no longer matters. A person can create a new identity as a victim or survivor, and provided this is done in the context of counselling or a support group, the question of truthfulness is thought by some to be irrelevant. The ultimate indulgence of the Gen X’er is to claim: Whatever I feel emotionally is true. Don’t slow me down with the facts.

In the real world, however, to enjoy the luxury of painting oneself as a victim also requires that one fashion an abuser. The “memory wars” of the 1990s were fought over whether claims of abuse which seemed strange, farfetched, and at odds with reality should nonetheless be taken seriously enough to convict someone in a court of law, or in the court of public opinion.

The answer, in brief, is no, not without objective evidence. After a great many people were wrongfully accused (and eventually cleared), there emerged a recognition that people claiming to be victims — particularly in a polarized social, political, or legal context — often turn out to be victimizers. This includes former spiritual seekers who tell so-called “apostate atrocity stories” as part of their newfound anti-cult advocacy or return to secular society.

Not everyone who tells a false tale of abuse is an outright liar. The point about abuse-themed books, support groups, and counselling sessions is that they tend to wreak havoc with a person’s sense of identity. People begin to experience life so subjectively that what they feel emotionally becomes what they claim factually. In other words, they confabulate; and within the support group they’re emotionally rewarded for confabulating, because their claims ratify the underlying social and political beliefs being espoused, e.g. that all fathers are abusers, or all purported “cult leaders” are abusers, or all kindergarten teachers are secret Satanists.

In a Salon article and interview, Meredith Maran begins to get at the flavour of this gradual subjectivizing of experience until it becomes false:

“The lie that tore my family apart”
“Interview with Meredith Maran”

What she’s saying is that social cliques and feel-good psychological theories can make liars of us, especially if telling the truth that we were not abused would cause us to lose friends or loved ones who inhabit an abuse-centered universe.

A problem with reliance on emotional reality to the detriment of factual reality is that emotional reality can be extremely unreliable, especially when people are going through a whirlwind of changes in their lives. The causes of their unhappiness are complex, and may include having made poor choices reflecting ethical lapses — yet there can be a controlling figure (such as a counsellor with his or her own agenda) urging them to assign blame for their unhappiness to some external factor or person. This can lead to such stereotyped claims as: I joined a cult and me fanny fell off. Like me on Facebook!

It’s sad to see Ms. O’Dwyer join the ranks of such comic strip characters. Her motives are familiar to me in that I’ve often encountered apostates who feel a strong need for self-justification, and who hope to expunge any guilt associated with having left a respected spiritual movement by trying to make that movement appear outlandish and odious. Of course, many people leave spiritual movements, but most move on without the need to attach excessive blame, which can easily develop into a psychological complex.

My impression is that Joseph Kracht, on whose blog Bithika O’Dwyer’s bizarre “testimonial” appears, acts as a kind of Svengali figure for people (particularly women) with emotional problems who’ve somehow been persuaded that venting on the Internet is a valid form of therapy. It is not.

Most former members of spiritual groups quietly take their leave without much fanfare. A few may have unresolved conflicts about their participation, and may try out different retrospective narratives in order to arrive at a personal interpretation which satisfies them. This type of thing is sometimes done in therapy or a support group; and the reasons most therapists and support groups conduct their activities in true (offline) privacy are manifold: The material which comes up in therapy/support is often highly charged, and is not meant for public consumption. Privacy allows people to experiment with different narratives, including some which may place excessive blame on friends, family, colleagues, or mentors.

In a private therapeutic setting, the situation is manageable, and does not pose legal problems such as libel. But in a public setting, or any setting where anti-cult operatives are trolling for “atrocity stories,” the narratives constructed may undergo radical distortion due to social influence, and may bring participants into conflict with the law.

I doubt Mr. Kracht apprised Ms. O’Dwyer of the full ramifications of joining the “cult wars” — or what little remains of them in a world which is naturally evolving toward pluralism and religious tolerance. Acting wilfully to earn a reputation as someone who betrays former friends and colleagues and posts hate material on the Internet is really not so helpful to one’s C.V. Spiritual people are not the only ones who value loyalty. Secular people and business people also look for consistency and loyalty when considering whether to hire, befriend, or form a lasting relationship with someone who’s recently put themselves “on the market.” How one has treated one’s former friends and colleagues is likely to be an important consideration, and such consideration is reasonable.

By (possibly) following Mr. Kracht’s questionable counsel (whether personal or professional), Ms. O’Dwyer has burned her bridges not only behind her, but also in front of her, limiting rather than expanding her future options. Surely mature people preserve their options.

This is important, so forgive me if I should repeat it: As we move through life, if we are mature and ethical we act loyally toward those we have befriended and who befriended us. Our beliefs may change, but loyalty remains a constant. This is so because our beliefs — and the social groups to which we belong — may often change in the course of a lifetime. In maturity, we recognize that there exist a diversity of beliefs (especially in a spiritual context) about what is right and true, and what practices are beneficial. We move gracefully from social group to social group, from belief to belief, always trying to learn what we can and become better people. Others are doing the same, so there is no reason to demonize them for imagined wrongs.

Likewise, over a lifetime our goals may change. We can move from Goal A to Goal B without having to demolish or annihilate Goal A (and everyone associated with Goal A). To move between goals in a non-destructive manner is the mature, ethical, and psychologically healthy way to do so.

This approach also offers hope that we might one day integrate our spiritual experiences into our daily lives, even if we’re now living closer to the secular world. The anti-cult POV, which typically involves discrediting past spiritual experiences (and the teacher who engendered them), is not psychologically healthy, and doesn’t lead to a well-integrated personality.

When people join anti-cult groups (including Internet based ones like Joe Kracht’s deceptively-named “Abode of Yoga”), they’re inclined to forget these simple truths under the heady influence of social pressure. This includes pressure to unquestioningly accept and act on stereotypes which dehumanize minority faith groups, thus invalidating the ethical obligations that one would normally feel toward one’s fellow human beings.

Indeed, in hate groups a pathological lack of empathy develops towards the targets of the hatred, such that Joe Kracht claims his former church “might as well be burned to the ground.” However, to outside observers (such as potential employers) who have not steeped themselves in anti-cult ideology, the meanness and spitefulness of posting hate material on the Internet is thoroughly apparent — all the more so if the targets of the hatred have a reputation for volunteerism, healthy living, and doing good.

These questions concerning loyalty and ethics tend to be paramount in the minds of people making personnel decisions, because such people are keenly aware that most human relationships (including employment relationships) have a beginning, middle, and end. Trashing one’s former friends and colleagues on the Internet thus suggests a person who is immature and is unable to conclude a relationship in a civilized and responsible manner, without acting vindictively or destructively, and without intentionally causing embarrassment or harm. That’s certainly the impression one gets from Bithika O’Dwyer’s guest column on Joe Kracht’s blog (and the iterations appearing on other venues).

Now, why are anti-cult counsellors typically so obsessed with pushing people over the edge, getting them to publicly recant their faith in a dramatic and finalized manner that would tend to reflect poorly on their good judgement, and to limit their future options? Are such counsellors really acting in the best interests of their clients or protégés? These are questions I hope to tackle in future postings.

In the meantime, let us return to the theme of marriage and divorce introduced at the outset of Part 1. Why would one ex demonize the other? Sometimes to assuage strong guilt feelings, or to relocate blame for the failed relationship. Dr. Lonnie Kliever writes:

[T]here are some voluntary apostates from new religious movements who leave deeply embittered and harshly critical of their former religious associations and activities. Their dynamics of separation from a once-loved religious group is analogous to an embittered marital separation and divorce. Both marriage and religion require a significant degree of commitment. The greater the involvement, the more traumatic the break-up. The longer the commitment, the more urgent the need to blame the other for the failed relationship. Long-term and heavily involved members of new religious movements who over time become disenchanted with their religion often throw all of the blame on their former religious associations and activities. They magnify small flaws into huge evils. They turn personal disappointments into malicious betrayals. They even will tell incredible falsehoods to harm their former religion.

– Dr. Lonnie Kliever, “The Reliability of Apostate Testimony About New Religious Movements”

When one spends years following a spiritual path, it becomes like family. Then, if one chooses to leave or is asked to leave, it may feel like a ripping away. I am perhaps 1% spiritual, but one thing I know about seekers is that they are still human beings, with an emotional self and feelings that run deep. Our emotional selves also have defence mechanisms which kick in when the pain becomes too great. At the most hellish moment of a marital breakup, one partner says to the other: “You don’t love me. You never loved me. And I never loved you. I’ve hated every moment I ever spent with you. I hate you, and all your family and friends. What’s more, you abused our children.” Next comes the ritual burning of photographs, the running of the car off a cliff, and a neatly typed note to the spouse’s employer suggesting termination…

We are all too human, tragically human. And so when we leave a spiritual path, sometimes this slash-and-burn mentality kicks in as a defence. Then too, the world wants us to pay a tithe to be accepted back: “Many members of our church or temple were lured away by this Indian rogue. We all know that meditation is bad for you. We’ll accept you back if you just say you were abused or brainwashed. Then you can get on with the things that really matter, like career and dating…”

Someone who’s sincerely followed a spiritual path for a few years will often have sublime experiences locked in the depths of their heart — experiences they told themselves they would never forget as long as they lived. Then, when the same person leaves that path, you see them try to perform a radical guru-ectomy on themselves. The light they saw, the joy they felt, these things never happened. It’s a defence mechanism, like amnesia. However, amnesia is a purely involuntary ailment. It takes some conscious will to go on the Internet and malign someone.

Conclusions

These are some of the issues surrounding apostates and their accounts. These issues in turn point to functional problems concerning descriptions of spiritual groups which appear in the popular press, and which tend to be disproportionately shaped by apostate accounts. (See also James A. Beckford, “The Mass Media and New Religious Movements.”)

When I say “functional problems,” I mean something different than a simple question of “whom do you believe.” Apostates act in certain fairly predictable ways; the mass media also act in fairly predictable ways. The end result can be a skewing of data leading to false depictions. (For one example, see “Can Salon Learn From Rolling Stone’s Mistakes? Part 1.”)

In most Western nations, there is a secular sphere and a religious sphere. These two spheres ideally work in harmony, but in our present period there is often war between them. Apostates are typically people who’ve crossed over from the religious sphere to the secular sphere, and now seek to mobilize the secular sphere against the religious sphere. There’s a broad sense in which their reports constitute reports about the enemy during wartime, or characterizations by the secular sphere about what goes on in the religious sphere. Such reports are inherently prone to inaccuracy and bias.

These factors underscore the late Dr. Bryan Wilson’s imperative that “The first duty of those who wish to present a fair picture of a religious fellowship is to seek the views of those who are faithfully committed to it and to undertake a first-hand study of their lifestyle.” However, the mass media usually don’t have the time, interest, or resources to conduct such a study, and often can’t even be bothered checking with bonafide religious scholars. Therefore, the view of minority spiritual groups we get from the mass media is often little more than a crude stereotype. This in turn creates problems in society, such as harassment of spiritual groups, or the inability of people with genuine spiritual needs to connect with a group which could benefit them.

When individual apostates publicly hurl false allegations, this is similar to people throwing rocks at church windows. One might like or even love someone who does grievous harm, but it’s difficult to forgive them while the glass is still tinkling and people are checking themselves for cuts and bruises. As I discuss in “A Question of Forgiveness,” it’s easier to forgive people when their wrong actions have ceased and they show some signs of remorse. Hate the sin, not the sinner is good advice; but when compassion fails, justice-light is sometimes needed to solve a problem which endangers others.

Bhakti yoga is a very emotional path, and some people can easily be storm-tossed by their emotions of the moment — whether love or hate. Some problems may benefit from more steady reflection leading to insight, rather than simply choosing sides based on friendship or which in-group one hopes to join.

Within ex-cult support groups, codependent relationships may develop, with the women becoming faux victims, and the men becoming their “valiant” protectors. These assumed roles reflect a need to create an artificial world in which the apostate is viewed as an heroic crusader rather than a (possibly failed) spiritual seeker. If the person’s own conscience is telling them they could have acted better, could have been truer, donning the garb of victim or protector may be a salve for the conscience.

Unfortunately, this leads to a state of affairs in which some men will go to the wall defending a story which is absolute bollocks, and which contradicts their own knowledge and experience acquired over many years. Whether in a courtroom trial, or even the type of sleazy Internet show trials conducted by Joe Kracht, truth shouldn’t depend on who’s sleeping with whom.

People who are misled by false accounts often want to be misled for the same reasons that these accounts were formulated in the first place: because some people wrongly feel that they can only build up their own ego by tearing down their former spiritual path.

Those who have returned to worldly life may need a certain type of ego build-up, but this is achieved by doing good things, not by becoming obsessed with “proving” that one’s former path or teacher were “bad.” One doesn’t have to look far to see people who left a spiritual path over 35 years ago, but are still trying to discredit their former teacher in order to feel good about themselves. This type of false ego build-up has turned them into extremely troubled and unhappy individuals. Someone like Bithika O’Dwyer who’s only been at it for 2-3 years might learn from such old profligates that this is not the right way to proceed, and does not lead to either worldly happiness or spiritual happiness. Better to adopt a live-and-let-live attitude, and get on with one’s life! Better also to leave all one’s bridges unburned and passable, so that one might freely choose any option in the future.

In the final analysis, to become embroiled in the controversies fomented by apostates is a losing proposition for sincere spiritual seekers. It is like quicksand which constantly draws people in until they’re in over their heads and cannot escape from all the concentrated negativity that apostates generate.

If you’re following the path of love and devotion, then it is your devotion, not somebody else’s devotion (or lack thereof) that will sustain you. You will gain strength by looking to those who are more devoted than you, not less so.

Suppose you have gone to a shop for many years. The shopkeeper has always been nice to you and has given you the things you need. He is very kind, though he does have a few rules about what goes on in his shop. Then you meet someone who tells you the shopkeeper is the very worst! He cheated them, he treated them unkindly, he is simply unbearable. Well, you do not know what transpired between the shopkeeper and that person. But he has always treated you fairly. So there is some sense in remaining loyal to that shopkeeper, based on your own experience.

No spiritual teacher, no matter how good and great, is immune to the proverbial “barking of the dogs” of which Swami Vivekananda spoke. Sri Chinmoy has said:

A real genius is not bound by any convention. A genius is a genius. He has to go forward like an elephant, without paying attention to the barking of the dogs. Swami Vivekananda used to say that when an elephant is on the way to the market to eat bananas, the dogs bark and bark. But the elephant does not pay any attention. He goes to the market and eats the bananas and then he comes back home. The dogs are unable to enjoy the bananas.

– Sri Chinmoy, from A Mystic Journey in the Weightlifting World, Part 1, Agni Press, 2000

Combating false views prevalent in society is like trying to straighten “a dog’s curly tail” (Vivekananda) — it just curls up again. There will always be people spreading hate material. Sometimes they’re good at demagoguing an issue, and may have more funding and resources than spiritual groups, so their message is easier to hear. They can temporarily drown out the true message offered by sincere spiritual teachers.

Yet, spiritual genius that he was, Sri Chinmoy continued to move forward confidently, offering his precious Darshan to those seekers who approached him with an aspiring consciousness. What is said by critics is largely, ahem… irrelephant.

By studying the writings of apostates or disgruntled former members, we don’t get any enlightenment. For that we need spiritual practice, such as prayer, meditation and service.

The more we study doubt, the more we will experience confusion-mind. Doubt does not have the power to dispel itself. Only faith has the power to dispel doubt, just as Light dispels darkness.

There are many tracts criticizing people who study under the guidance of a spiritual master and join in the life of a spiritual community. The authors usually advocate secularism, individualism, rationalism, and a pragmatic view of life. To them God is just a mental hallucination, or a remote deity who deserves no more than Temple on Friday or Church on Sunday.

Yet, when one sincerely meditates with a teacher of Sri Chinmoy’s calibre, one has deep inner experiences which prove their own reality in the fertile field of the aspiring heart. One discovers a living God ever present in the temple of one’s heart, a God who is one’s own highest Self, and therefore one’s constant companion.

This is a discovery rooted in faith, not doubt. And so there comes a time when one closes one’s ears to doubt and criticism, and tries to proceed only through faith, finding this to be a higher teaching. (Perhaps doubt is the kindergarten of the spiritual life, and faith the advanced doctoral work?)

As spiritual seekers, we can learn to value Light more. When we become lovers of Light, this will lead to right views, and such views will eventually transform society, lessening the hatred and intolerance which arise from a wrong understanding.

Those who take the negative approach don’t travel far, and ultimately bring suffering on themselves, if not the entire world. Just look at Judas!

Bithika O’Dwyer (bottom row, left) with friends from the Cambridge Sri Chinmoy Centre on a fun excursion to Thetford Forest, 2009

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization. See my About page for further disclaimers.

* * *

On Apostate Accounts or Testimonials, Part 1

How accurate are the stories told by ex-members about spiritual groups? What are some factors which can lead to inaccurate accounts, and what effect does this have on society? Wading into the thickets of the Bithika O’Dwyer controversy…

I do want to discuss Bithika O’Dwyer, but it’s neither reasonable nor necessary to reinvent the wheel every time a particular individual goes off the rails. Some people have already discussed the core issues at length here. There’s also a collection of essays and anecdotes called “Dealing With Negativity” which offers further insights.

I want to spend some time going over general concepts before turning to the individual case of Bithika O’Dwyer in Part 2.

Part 1: General Concepts

In a free and open society filled with people who possess inquisitive minds, and hearts seeking after truth, it’s fairly commonplace for people to join and leave spiritual groups. In fact, it happens every day, not unlike marriage and divorce. As in cases of divorce, the breakup can be amicable, respectful, and mature; or it can be acrimonious, spiteful, and marked by childish behaviour. We’ve all probably known a divorced couple each of whom is a decent enough person in themselves, but one of whom makes their former partner out to be the devil incarnate. Yet we know from personal experience (knowing the individuals) that it simply isn’t true.

Scholars of religion have studied this broad phenomenon as it applies to leave-takers from spiritual groups. The stories told by ex-members in this context are sometimes referred to as apostate accounts, atrocity stories, deconversion narratives, or testimonials.

The term “apostate” is likely to come up repeatedly in any discussion of religious movements and their detractors. The term has a generally accepted meaning among religious scholars. That meaning is not, in itself, derogatory. An apostate is someone who, after leaving a religious or spiritual group, actively opposes that group, often by speaking publicly against it. Thus, an apostate differs from an ordinary “leave-taker.” There are thousands of religious or spiritual groups, and people come and go from them every day (usually in non-dramatic fashion). Most leave-takers either quietly rejoin the secular majority, or perhaps join a different spiritual group. Most don’t publicly apostatize.

However, media stories defining how the general public views religious movements are often disproportionately shaped by apostate accounts, which can be inaccurate and may reflect certain motives or biases which have become familiar to scholars of religion. Anti-cult material describing religious movements tends to be constructed almost exclusively from apostate accounts, pointedly omitting accounts by the current faithful describing their own beliefs, practices, and lifestyle. For these reasons, apostate accounts (and questions about their accuracy) have become a major focus in the study of religious movements, even though apostates make up a relatively small percentage of ex-members.

As noted above, the term “apostate” is not by definition derogatory. For example, if we were to define the group Al-Qaeda as a “religious cult” (rather than a paramilitary organization which uses Islam as an excuse to commit terrorist acts), then an apostate from Al-Qaeda who speaks publicly and accurately about Al-Qaeda’s known terrorist activities would presumably be doing something positive and beneficial, warning the public about a genuine danger. But if an ex-Jehovah’s Witness or ex-Hare Krishna devotee claimed those groups are terrorists, we should call that foolish alarmism.

The biblical story of Jesus and Judas Iscariot presents an (obvious) example of apostasy viewed negatively. Jesus was a man of peace who tried to usher in a new era in which ideals of compassion might triumph over greed. When Judas lost faith in Jesus and his teachings, he did not quietly fade away, but targeted Jesus for persecution, taking thirty pieces of silver to identify him to the chief priests, leading ultimately to Jesus’s crucifixion by the Romans.

Thus, while the term “apostate” is not necessarily negative, the Judas archetype in Western culture signifies one who betrays a benevolent teacher or teaching due to some self-serving motive. How one views any particular apostate depends on how one views the spiritual teacher or group from which the apostate is a defector, and what precise form his/her apostasy takes. If apostates are sometimes viewed negatively, it may be due to instances in which they’ve cast false slurs on teachers or movements which are essentially benign.

These are not binary concepts. A religious movement may be open to legitimate criticism on some grounds, but apostates may engage in extreme tactics similar to yellow journalism. In a familiar pattern, the site jehovahswitnessblog.com turns out to be an anti Jehovah’s Witness site, and asks such illuminating questions as “Would it be fair to compare Jehovah’s Witnesses to Terrorist Organisations?” (This is accompanied by a graphic of a bearded, turbaned Middle Eastern man holding a bomb with a lit fuse.) “Many say that the Jehovah’s Witness religion is a cult. Do you think it’s a cult? In this section, we’ve housed all the blog posts that show you if it is a cult or not. You might be shocked at what you find.” (Not really.)

Scholars of religion tend to visit a huge number of sites, and the above is more or less the boilerplate approach found on many anti-cult sites started by apostates from a wide variety of faiths. It’s this type of crude demagoguery which can lead to the view that apostates are something less than accurate, unbiased sources of information.

The scientific study of religion is (at least in theory) ethically neutral; but much public discussion about spiritual groups is not scholarly at all (in fact it’s quite emotional!). It often entails making subjective value judgements about particular teachers and faiths, and about those who actively apostatize against them.

The problem of making such judgements fair is in turn complicated by the problem of locating accurate resources, the problem of media bias, the problem of moral relativism, the problem of majority versus minority beliefs and values, and the postmodern problem of settling on objective truth even when accurate resources are available. John Leo, who is often a stickler for facts over emotions, points to

… the postmodern notion that there is no literal truth, only voices and narratives. If so, who can object if you make up a narrative that expresses the truth you feel?

— John Leo, “Lying Isn’t So Bad If It Makes You Feel Good”

Among those scholars who approach religious movements with an attitude of tolerance, there’s an awareness that apostates sometimes circulate narratives or “testimonials” which are designed to communicate an “emotional” truth (how they feel about past involvement in a religious movement), rather than a “factual” truth. Where so-called “atrocity stories” told by apostates turn out not to be factual, this contributes greatly to the credibility problem with apostates as a class.

Notwithstanding the high degree of freedom and mobility shown by the populations of most Western nations to try out different spiritual groups (joining and leaving more or less at will), the accounts circulated by apostates often take the form of “captivity narratives.” Such narratives stress the powerlessness of the individual in both matters of joining and leaving a spiritual group. They joined because they were “brainwashed,” stayed because they were “brainwashed,” and only left when someone such as a therapist, anti-cult activist or new romantic interest rode in on a white horse and forcibly “rescued” them from their imprisoned and debilitated state. Scholars of religion tend to question such accounts, and have largely dismissed the brainwashing thesis as a serious explanation.

In Western nations, it’s extremely rare that a spiritual group would hold anyone captive. When interviewed, most spiritual adherents can give a reasonable accounting of why they joined a spiritual group, what they hope to achieve, and what they perceive to be the benefits. One can disagree with particular choices that they make, yet recognize that these are choices.

Many spiritual groups have a probationary period where new members can get their feet wet, learn more about the group, and decide if it suits them before making a stronger commitment. Few spiritual groups want members who join on a whim today, and leave on a whim tomorrow. This phenomenon was satirized on the TV sitcom Seinfeld. In an episode titled “The Conversion,” George Costanza wants to become Latvian Orthodox merely to pursue a romantic interest. But before he’s accepted as a convert, he has to demonstrate his sincerity, study a thick stack of religious texts, and pass a conversion test (which he cheats on by writing the answers on his hand). He quickly loses interest when he learns that his paramour is leaving New York to live in Latvia for a year.

In many cases, people write extremely detailed accounts of their lives while with a spiritual group, and these accounts reflect a thinking, feeling individual who is living out their spiritual choices, consciously reaffirming those choices day after day, year after year. But later, after exiting the spiritual group, the same individual may supply a “captivity narrative” in connection with participation in an ex-cult support group. The captivity narrative often seems contrived, formulaic, and scripted in comparison to the same person’s prior narrative describing spiritual experiences with uniqueness, and in detail.

Captivity narratives are retrospective accounts delivered to a new audience which has radically different expectations than the old one. When speaking to a new secular peer group, the apostate may ratify his/her affiliation with that peer group through exaggerated criticism of the spiritual group left behind. This may take the form of a “confession” to friends, family, or an Internet audience that the speaker was once a “cult victim” who experienced horrible abuses, but has now seen the light of critical thinking, and become a true believer in baseball, apple pie, and motherhood. This then symbolically purges the former “cult” member’s reputation in the secular world. Such public purgative activities involving confessions or anti-cult testimonials are known collectively to scholars as rituals of denunciation. The accounts produced are not viewed as highly credible owing to the underlying pressures. Quoting from The Oxford Handbook of Religious Conversion:

Conversion and disengagement both represent significant shifts in personal identity and situated meanings. As such, biographies are defined and redefined in light of ongoing experience and narrative in an effort to make sense of past decisions and provide legitimacy for current ones. Retrospective accounts must be understood in this context and interpreted accordingly. For example, ex-members may need to justify their departures by finding fault with, or attributing blame to, their former groups. Presentation of the emergent self after NRM disengagement often requires a defense against a “spoiled identity” in the face of stigmatizing efforts by significant others. To save face, the ex-member is compelled to negotiate a new identity (apostate, whistle-blower, penitent ex-member) that plays to a new audience and is calculated to defend the self. The new associates in an external or oppositional group may be slow to fully accept the defector until he/she participates in appropriate rituals of denunciation (testimonials, confessions). After all, the newly exited person has a lot to live down from his or her “unsavory” past involvements.

The Oxford Handbook of Religious Conversion [footnotes omitted]

The scholarly language might throw some readers. What does it mean that “biographies are defined and redefined in light of ongoing experience and narrative in an effort to make sense of past decisions and provide legitimacy for current ones”? It means that a person changes their story to correspond to their new world view, new secular peer group, and newfound interest in (for example) a secular business career.

What do we make of the phrase “stigmatizing efforts by significant others”? After leaving a spiritual group, the leave-taker may be subjected to pressure from friends, relatives, or a romantic partner to “denounced the cult” in order to be accepted back into worldly life. The leave-taker may leave with good memories of the spiritual group left behind, but subsequently feels pressured to adopt a new identity as an “apostate, whistle-blower, [or] penitent ex-member.” (“Oh, I’m so sorry Mummy and Daddy that I stayed with that awful cult! Won’t you please put me back in your will now?”)

The leave-taker may fall in with other ex-members who have been strongly influenced by anti-cult ideology which portrays spiritual groups as abusive rather than beneficial. Some such ex-members may have received formal deprogramming or exit counselling. They then introduce this ultra-critical-cum-activist view into the ex-cult support group, where it becomes the dominant view reinforced through readings from a closed universe of anti-cult authors who see involvement in a spiritual community solely through the lens of trauma and abuse. This ignores thousands of years of history in which people have explored living in spiritual communities as a joyful way to grow, evolve, and put their cherished beliefs into practice in concert with others.

So, what does it mean that “The new associates in an external or oppositional group may be slow to fully accept the defector until he/she participates in appropriate rituals of denunciation (testimonials, confessions)”? It means that a typical initiation ritual for someone who joins an ex-cult support group is that they’ll be asked to read highly negative “testimonials” portraying the spiritual group as abusive, and to voice their agreement or even write their own testimonials based on existing models. For the lonely ex-member seeking “support,” this is the price of admission to a new social clique. The testimonial of abuse is a fashion accoutrement donned when visiting an ex-cult support group, and eventually becomes part of the apostate’s permanent wardrobe.

The apostate is eager (perhaps even desperate) to “prove” that she’s no longer a member of a stigmatized group (i.e. no longer a “cult” member), and therefore may act much like a cooperating witness in a government trial, ready to accuse former friends and colleagues in order to escape conviction herself.

The secular majority is not always kindly disposed toward minority adherents, even those now trying to rejoin the secular majority. Hence the need to rehabilitate one’s reputation by talking trash about a group one had previously extolled. This may be done in preparation for marriage or a secular career, or simply to enhance one’s social standing.

In this way, pretending to be a “cult victim” becomes a social lubricant or business lie told without regard for ethics or consequences. In many cases people begin by deceiving themselves, then come to deceive others. Their desperation to rejoin the secular world and gain worldly advantage leads them to project a stereotyped view of themselves which they feel will help them fit in and not be blamed for their spiritual past. Former seekers are often counselled to follow this approach. Pretending to be a cult victim becomes their cover story for returning to the world.

However, Occam’s razor slices thin here. When someone leaves a well-organized spiritual path with no history of abuse, it’s usually for very conventional (even prosaic) reasons. Spiritual work is challenging but rewarding. There is always a pull to revert to the mean and to lead a life which is most ordinary, requiring relatively little effort, able to be coped with on brain base.

Someone leaves because they lost their spiritual aspiration, interest, or intensity, the figure who originally inspired them is no longer there in the physical to lift them up, they have grown tired, have run into a rough patch in their own nature, or they still have unfulfilled desires and ambitions which take them back to worldly life. (Or a combination of all these factors.)

Then too, a person may have started a spiritual business, but finds it quite challenging to keep it afloat. People can love each other dearly, but working together on a daily basis may bring out personality conflicts; and rather than resolve these conflicts, some people prefer to move on. (See Sri Chinmoy’s story “Why the Disciples Don’t Come” about those who leave due to personality conflicts.)

In one sense it’s reasonable to want to relax after working hard for a number of years. But in the spiritual life, when people relax, their own worst nature may ambush them, so that they lose all the progress they have made, and may for a time become unfit to lead the spiritual life. This is sometimes called a “hostile attack.” Sri Chinmoy writes:

It is not the spiritual life that increases your undivine qualities. On the contrary, the spiritual life wants you to conquer all the undivine forces once and for all so that they cannot come and disturb you. Otherwise, two or three undivine forces you will conquer today because of your intense spiritual aspiration; and then, after a few months, there will be again an attack by some other forces. So, if you know that all the forces are going to attack you either today or tomorrow, then you will be fully prepared. You thought that you had only one enemy. How is it that you now have ten enemies? But this should not make you discouraged. On the contrary, you should be happy that all your enemies, all your weaknesses, are coming forward. Only if they come forward can you conquer them.

How will you do it? It is through your constant inner cry. Do not be disturbed, do not be agitated, do not be depressed, do not surrender to these attacks. You simply should be happy that all your weaknesses are coming to the fore. Otherwise, each one will take its own time and bite you and pinch you. Then you will suffer like anything. So let them all attack you. Your faith in the Supreme — who is my Guru, your Guru, everybody’s Guru — has infinite power to conquer these undivine forces.

You want to go one step ahead and become totally divine. But the moment you enter the spiritual path, all the undivine, hostile forces attack you. Before, you never had doubt, you never had fear, you never thought that anything named jealousy existed on earth. But where did they come from? They did not come from above. No, they were all dormant inside you. The tiger within you had all these undivine qualities. But the tiger did not use all its power. It had only to use a little power, just a small quantity of its power, in order to frighten you. But now that the tiger knows that you are trying to leave its den, the tiger is ready to show you all its capacity. It will muster all its strength. But at that time, you have to be very devoted to your spiritual life, to the divine life within you, and say, “This is a great opportunity to conquer all my enemies all at once.” So you should be courageous and, at the same time, totally surrendered to the Will of the Supreme.

– Sri Chinmoy, from Illumination-World, Agni Press, 1977 [emphasis added]

To stay afloat in the spiritual life, one has to do battle with ignorance. If one becomes lax, then all the old problems may resurface, or even new problems may come. So some people leave because they no longer wish to do battle with their own nature, or for many other conventional, unremarkable reasons.

Now, why do some people disguise these very conventional reasons for leaving by telling an outlandish story of abuse, a so-called “atrocity story”? We’ve already discussed this, but here’s another powerful reason given by psychologist Sushmitam Rouse:

I remember an experience I had when I was quite new on the path — a year or two perhaps. I was overwhelmed by the love, the peace and the experiences of God that I had gained on the path, but at the same time was struggling with some of the lifestyle aspects of the path. I realised at this time that my positive experiences far outweighed my struggles and that I definitely did not want to leave the path. However in dealing with this struggle, I came to the realisation that if anything ever pulled me away from the path, the only way I would be able to bear to leave, would be to destroy in my mind all the positive experiences I had gained — otherwise the grief of leaving would be completely overwhelming. Everything good would have to be made bad, everything pure made impure, in order to justify to myself such an action.

I have seen a number of people leave the centre over the years, and in my experience, it is those, like myself who have had tremendously positive experiences in their spiritual life, who resort to this destructive measure — and often they publicise their opinions, as if to further convince themselves they have left something ‘bad’ not good. On the other hand, people who never got much out of the path in the first place, just tend to drift away.

Lastly, I would like to say a word about the place of therapy in all this! The issue of abuse and therapy is such a complex and controversial one. It is well known in the psychological community that some therapists encourage patients to ‘dig’ for abuse that was never there, and that some patients completely unconsciously project their own impulses and traumas onto others who they then believe ‘abused’ them.

– Sushmitam Rouse from “Question For The Women” (discussion thread) 

It could also be said that the lies some people tell about their former spiritual path are like a bandage which they apply to the wound of leaving — leaving something which they actually love, or which their soul loves.

Leaving a spiritual path can be painful, just as divorce can be painful. This leads to a temptation (or even unconscious reaction) to simply throw all the blame on the other person (in the case of divorce) or on the teacher or path (in the case of leaving a spiritual group). But there is great potential for misattribution of cause and effect here. People may become unhappy after leaving a spiritual path which they followed sincerely for decades of their lives. But this doesn’t mean the spiritual path is the cause of their unhappiness. As I write in “Making Sense of the Spiritual Life”:

When people suffer a hostile attack, they end their spiritual practice, and then blame the spiritual life for all the problems which ensue. This is clearly a misattribution of cause and effect.

I have personally seen people become unhappy after making a sudden, abrupt change in their lives — a change where they cut themselves off from people and activities which had once sustained them emotionally and spiritually. Then, in their unhappiness, they misattribute the cause, blaming the people and activities from which they cut themselves off.

I’ve also had occasion to quote from this TIME magazine article:

By all accounts, the descent into delusion is gradual. Everyone has experienced slights, insults or failures at one time or another, and most people find some way to cope. Or, if they don’t, a trusted friend or family member may persuade them to forget the past and get on with their lives. But if they cannot shake off the sense of humiliation, they may instead nourish their grudges and start a mental list of all the injustices in their lives. Rather than take a critical look at themselves, they blame their troubles on “the company,” for example, or “the government” or “the system.” Often these aggrieved people fall in with others sharing the same point of view. The group helps them to rehearse their grievances, ensuring that the wounds remain open, and exposes them to similar complaints. As a result, paranoia blossoms and spreads.

— Christine Gorman, “Calling All Paranoids,” TIME magazine

This applies in spades to so-called ex-cult support groups, and I hope regular readers of my blog will forgive me if I once again quote this passage from “The ACLU and Religious Freedom, Part 2”:

When someone studies with a spiritual teacher, the teacher becomes an important part of her life. Even if she ends her studies, her former teacher will usually be someone with whom she needs to live on comfortable terms. A healthy narrative truth emerging in therapy is one which doesn’t attempt to demonize the former teacher or alienate the former student. When therapists violate these principles, this may be seen as abusive, just as inducing Parental Alienation Syndrome is considered a form of parental abuse.

One of the universally recognized symptoms of PAS is lack of ambivalence. Quite simply, the parent from whom the child has been alienated is seen as completely bad and evil. Lack of ambivalence is unnatural behaviour in human beings. Rarely can someone of basic intelligence, maturity and emotional stability support the notion that one person is completely bad.

Yet, when people receive anti-cult counselling or participate in ex-cult support groups, they tend to undergo a pathological inversion of views. They are systematically alienated from their former spiritual teacher, to the point where they depict him/her as thoroughly bad and inhumanly evil. This may be described as Guru Alienation Syndrome, or GAS.

The reason such systematic alienation should be considered a form of abuse is that it effectively robs the former student of all the benefits of having a spiritual teacher, including the ability to interact positively with that teacher, and to enjoy loving memories of that teacher. Unambivalent hatred of the spiritual teacher doesn’t just harm the hated teacher, but also the former student.

While not everyone seeks out a spiritual teacher, for those who do — and who have studied for 5, 10 or 20 years with that teacher — there is an existing relationship which typically has many positive aspects and serves an important purpose in the student’s life. The loss of that relationship is a grievous loss. A wise and compassionate therapist, counsellor, or friend will therefore not attempt to destroy that relationship by circulating hate material vilifying the teacher.

However, just as divorcing parents sometimes play tug-of-war with the child, in anti-cult circles one often encounters manipulative people who want to play tug-of-war with the former spiritual student. They feel the only way for such students to prove their newfound loyalty to mainstream secular values is to loudly proclaim their hatred for the spiritual teacher. Circulating vilification material is one of the tactics used to fan such hatred; and willingness to publicly voice such hatred becomes a kind of loyalty test or perverse indicator of “cult recovery.”

Owing to wretched excess in the anti-cult movement, it’s nearly impossible to be too over-the-top in one’s denunciation of a purported “cult leader.” The situation is analogous to that described by singer-songwriter Arlo Guthrie in his 1967 signature piece “Alice’s Restaurant.” At one point in the monologue, Guthrie is trying to avoid being drafted and sent to Vietnam. His strategy is to appear so gung-ho that he would be viewed as undesirable:

I went up there, I said, “Shrink, I want to kill. I want to kill! I want to see blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth! Eat dead, burnt bodies! I mean: Kill. Kill!”

And I started jumpin’ up and down, yellin’ “KILL! KILL!” and he started jumpin’ up and down with me, and we was both jumpin’ up and down, yellin’, “KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!” and the sergeant came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said “You’re our boy.” Didn’t feel too good about it.

— Arlo Guthrie, “Alice’s Restaurant Massacre”

Those members of anti-cult groups willing to tell over-the-top atrocity stories may receive status elevation within the group (similar to having medals pinned on them). If they can supply bodice-ripping drug store fare, this has the potential to be used in anti-cult publicity campaigns, and may even find its way into a courtroom. The writers know this, and so tend to compete in a “race to the bottom.” It’s therefore difficult to escape the conclusion that these stories are being told for self-serving motives, especially where they diverge significantly from the known facts about a spiritual teacher or group, and are not supported by objective evidence.

We should keep in mind that apostasy is not a private, personal decision. The apostate makes a great public show of her newfound rejection of faith, and actively seeks to persuade or influence others to join her in rejecting faith. The apostate “atrocity story” is a public relations tool used by anti-cult groups to vilify minority spiritual groups, leading to harassment or diminution of rights for such groups (or in extreme cases, crucifixion).

As I discuss in Part 2, when apostates hurl false accusations, this is similar to people throwing rocks at church windows. One might like or even love someone who does grievous harm, but it’s difficult to forgive them while the glass is still tinkling and people are checking themselves for cuts and bruises. If the hurlers will not stop, then it may be necessary to invoke lawful due process. See also this post discussing the problem of false accusations of a teacher in relation to the film Term of Trial. The links at the end concern UK libel law as it applies to Facebook, Blogspot, and other social media sites.

This concludes Part 1 covering general concepts. In Part 2 I’ll discuss the particular case of Bithika O’Dwyer.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.

* * *

Temple-Song-Hearts 1991 Concert

Celebrating International Women’s Day with Music

The contributions made to daily life by women around the world can never be quantified. Some women contribute to their local communities, while others go a step further by spreading their peace and joy to other nations through music.

Such is the case with Temple-Song-Hearts, a women’s music group which first formed in 1987 in the United Kingdom, and has since developed an increasingly international flavour.

As noted in People Are Good Everywhere, governments and political leaders may often fight, yet there is a countervailing force of good within each human heart. Some nations may be historical rivals, yet their people can still share good wishes and be moved by the same art and music, as these are universal constants.

In 1991, Temple-Song-Hearts toured the Soviet Union, which at that time was just dissolving into Russia. The Russian people, often starved for spirituality during the Soviet era, welcomed Temple-Song-Hearts in a spirit of oneness, and delighted in their soulful singing and performances on all-acoustic instruments. This video is part concert footage, part travelogue, with music always the uniting factor:

Temple-Song-Hearts is a group which combines the eternal with the ever-new. Their music radiates a deep sense of truth, while their arrangements are fresh and reflect our contemporary world.

Temple-Song-Hearts exclusively performs the music of Sri Chinmoy (1931-2007), who wrote thousands of spiritual songs which are prayers to God for peace, harmony, progress, the liberation of the individual soul from suffering, and the liberation of the entire world from the tyranny of ignorance. What more fitting source material for a group which has performed concerts throughout Eastern and Western Europe, as well as the U.S.A.?

The meeting of hearts and minds commingled with love of God often occurs far from politics or the glare of the mass media. It occurs in small halls where people who share a common longing for truth sit quietly for an hour, and take in sounds which are gentle, yet carry a powerful message of world-transformation. Many things flow from this experience: the recognition that deep within we are one, and a time will come when our diversity is not a cause for warfare (hot or cold), but when we will recognize oneness in diversity as the principle which informs us as human beings and divine beings. To quote Sri Chinmoy:

Being a spiritual man, I must say that there is only one religion. You call it Christianity, I call it Hinduism, somebody calls it Judaism and somebody else calls it Islam. But there is only one religion. So when there is one religion, there cannot be nearness or distance. There are many branches of the religion-tree, but there is only one religion, and that religion is God-realisation. The ultimate Goal of all religion is God-realisation.

Religions may fight on the way to the goal, but at the end of the journey they become most intimate friends, and then they feel that they were all the time together on the same journey, only following different paths. True, sincere followers of any religion, either Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism or Judaism, will never find fault in the truths of other religions. They know that the ultimate Truth exists in each religion. But in the field of practice or manifestation, human thoughts, human ideas, human vibrations can alter the truth. This is at the root of conflict between religions. The moment we go deep within, however, we see that there is no religion, only Truth. India’s greatest political leader, Mahatma Gandhi, said, “Where is religion? To me religion is just Truth.” The word “religion” can cause conflict and fighting. But when we use the word “Truth,” the conflicting parties remain silent.

– Sri Chinmoy, The Spiritual Journey: Oneness in Diversity, Agni Press, 1977

Writing about a Temple-Song-Hearts tour of the South of France in 2005, longtime member Shankara Smith says:

It’s been a fair few years since our group last performed for the public, and I had forgotten what a rewarding experience it is. Since the group gained a new pianist — the excellent Eshana from Serbia — plus a number of other musicians headed up by the multi-talented Utsava of Germany, we have been concentrating on improving the sound of the group.

Montpellier proved to be the ideal place to get together. It is a beautiful and mostly traffic-free old city. We had great fun checking out the local shops, particularly an exquisite chocolate shop (not great for the voice, but wonderful for the spirits!). But most of our time was dutifully spent practising.

On the second evening we performed in a lovely little theatre, to a full house of friends, meditation seekers and the general public. The concert went almost without a hitch, and I felt the spirit of Temple-Song-Hearts was well and truly back with us. I find there is nothing more satisfying than singing your heart out performing Sri Chinmoy’s music; the feeling of joy that comes from these pure, beautiful and prayerful songs. It was a joy we were able to share with our audience, who all seemed to enjoy the concert.

The following day we were off to Marseille. This time we were in a beautiful hall without the bright theatre lights, and it was nice being able to see our audience. The concert went very well, and afterwards some people stayed behind to chat. When a man approached me and said he was a professional pianist, part of me went “Oh no, he will have noticed all our little errors.” But instead of criticism, we received generous praise and I was very touched when he said how moved he had been by the music. This was followed up by a lovely lady saying that the concert had brought tears to her eyes and that “Today God has come as a woman.” I knew that once again Sri Chinmoy’s music had got right to the hearts of its listeners.

Read Shankara’s full report here, or view a gallery of photos from the French tour.

More About Sri Chinmoy’s Music

Sri Chinmoy was born in Bengal, India (now Bangladesh) in 1931, and moved to New York City in 1964, where he lived the better part of his life. Most songs performed by Temple-Song-Hearts are sung in Sri Chinmoy’s native language of Bengali (though it was also his custom to honour each country he visited with a song in that nation’s own language). His songs often include lines of different lengths, as in “Nil Akasher Alor Tari” from the 1991 video:

This can lead to arrangements which are very fresh and dynamic. Here are the lyrics in Bengali and English, courtesy SriChinmoyLibrary.com:

Nil Akasher Alor Tari

Nil akasher alor tari hridaye mor bhase
Kusum kalir mauna bhasha byatha amar nashe
Amai jara dake mago ami tader daki
Moder majhe tomai jena nitya mago rakhi

Translation:

O boat of light in the blue sky,
I see you floating in my heart-river.
I see the flowers that you are carrying.
The fragrance of these flowers
Has destroyed all my sufferings.
Like you, I call those who call me,
I see in you the bond of all-loving,
All-illumining and all-fulfilling unity.

No mortal words can add to this call to the infinite, this call to all-fulfilling unity. Needless to say, this unity of peoples, unity of spirits, can never be achieved by force. It dawns gradually as each person gains insight, develops spiritual vision, and longs in their heart to join in the festival of light which is carried on ceaselessly in the inner world.

Sri Chinmoy playing the Indian esraj, a bowed string instrument with a sound similar to the better-known sarangi. Photo by Abakash.

Personnel on the 1991 Tour

– Santoshi Hodgson
– Abi Timberlake
– Kate Hirons
– Dipika Smith
– Sudhira Hay
– Sangvad Keaney
– Udasina Hansford
– Shankara Smith
– Bithika O’Dwyer
– Rachel Merry
– Sahana Gero

Bithika O’Dwyer from the 1991 video

Bithika O’Dwyer with the World Harmony Run, 2009

Bithika O’Dwyer with friends from the Cambridge Sri Chinmoy Centre, 2009 (bottom row, left)

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.

Of Further Interest

Temple-Song-Hearts Tour Europe
Temple-Song-Hearts web site (by the most excellent Sumangali Morhall)
Temple-Song-Hearts on CD Baby

* * *

Gratitude to President Obama

One citizen says goodbye…

Today I found myself mourning the loss of Barack Obama as our President and Commander-in-Chief. It was not an intellectual experience, but an emotional one. As he spoke a farewell address to our military, I found myself recalling how many times I had been moved by this man’s great decency. As an American, I feel deeply grateful to him for eight years of service in which he played the difficult role of President with utmost honesty, dignity, concern, respect for the office, and respect for the American people.

A President, aside from his many practical duties, is also like a guardian angel for the nation. If he is kind and just, we feel protected. If he moves gracefully through the world, our nation feels at ease with the world.

I can never thank Barack Obama enough for the quality of personhood he brought to the office. He was a President that every American could be proud of, and I pray that he will remain active on the world scene. His presence is needed now more than ever.

At the same time that I feel tremendous gratitude to Barack Obama, I confess that I feel some fear for the future, as if a benign presence were being withdrawn.

When it is a question of character, intelligence, scholarship, humanity, and empathy, Barack Obama is a rare example of the best in American political leadership. We were lucky and blessed to get him for eight years, and I fear that we shall soon miss him more than we can ever imagine. May God bless his soul a thousand thousand times for being a courageous man and good-hearted.

Among a small circle of friends, I am known for sometimes writing poems or songs in the style of a man to whom I owe my life: the late Sri Chinmoy — the great and good spiritual Master who made America his home, and lived the better part of his life here until his death in 2007. He would have been so overjoyed and proud to see America elect its first black president.

Today, I would like to share with you a song I wrote about Barack Obama eight years ago when he was first elected. You can read the words below, and if you click on the PDF file, you can see the sheet music.

Obama, Obama

Obama, Obama,
No drama!
Always a oneness-satisfaction-sky.
Obama, Obama,
Change we need!

A new flower growing
In God’s divinity-heart-garden.
A new soul flowing
Through America’s Grand Canyon.

Obama, Obama,
Inner poise!
Never a useless noise;
Always a strong self-offering
    banyan.

“Obama, Obama” sheet music here (PDF).

What is drama if not conflict? And what is the opposite of conflict? Oneness. So when I say of President Obama that he is “always a oneness-satisfaction-sky,” I mean that he gets satisfaction not from conflict but from oneness. He is far above other leaders in this respect. He is in the sky, while they are perhaps fighting in the dirt.

How did a kid named Barack get to be President of the Unites States? Some will say it was solely through personal effort. I will say he was chosen by God to play a special role, to spread harmony and be “a new flower growing in God’s divinity-heart-garden.”

The line “A new soul flowing through America’s Grand Canyon” has special significance. Here, “soul” is meant in both the spiritual sense and the African-American sense, and “Grand Canyon” signifies not just the physical landmark, but the grand canyon which has so long divided rich and poor, white and black in America. So the broader meaning is: a new person, a new soulfulness, and a new quality of black soul flowing through the old divide, bringing people together.

If you don’t read music, you can catch the tune from this simple YouTube:

It is oft said that if you visit a black church in America, you’ll see three pictures: Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King Jr., and Barack Obama. There are pop artists who’ve written songs about Barack, but those songs don’t always reflect the spiritual element which is so important. It’s my hope and dream that someday a congregation will sing this song for him, and that his qualities of oneness, soulfulness, and inner poise will be recognized as the qualities of a Godly man.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.


Sidebar: Barack Obama on Religion (interview excerpts)

I’m rooted in the Christian tradition. I believe that there are many paths to the same place, and that is a belief that there is a higher power, a belief that we are connected as a people. That there are values that transcend race or culture, that move us forward, and there’s an obligation for all of us individually as well as collectively to take responsibility to make those values lived.

My mother was a deeply spiritual person, and would spend a lot of time talking about values and give me books about the world’s religions, and talk to me about them. And I think always, her view always was that underlying these religions were a common set of beliefs about how you treat other people and how you aspire to act, not just for yourself but also for the greater good.

I find it hard to believe that my God would consign four-fifths of the world to hell. I can’t imagine that my God would allow some little Hindu kid in India who never interacts with the Christian faith to somehow burn for all eternity. That’s just not part of my religious makeup.

Part of the reason I think it’s always difficult for public figures to talk about this is that the nature of politics is that you want to have everybody like you and project the best possible traits onto you. Often times that’s by being as vague as possible, or appealing to the lowest common denominators. The more specific and detailed you are on issues as personal and fundamental as your faith, the more potentially dangerous it is.

I think that each of us when we walk into our church or mosque or synagogue are interpreting that experience in different ways, are reading scriptures in different ways and are arriving at our own understanding at different ways and in different phases.

When I tuck in my daughters at night and I feel like I’ve been a good father to them, and I see in them that I am transferring values that I got from my mother and that they’re kind people and that they’re honest people, and they’re curious people, that’s a little piece of heaven.

I think Gandhi is a great example of a profoundly spiritual man who acted and risked everything on behalf of those values but never slipped into intolerance or dogma. He seemed to always maintain an air of doubt about him.

I think Dr. King, and Lincoln. Those three are good examples for me of people who applied their faith to a larger canvas without allowing that faith to metastasize into something that is hurtful.

— Barack Obama on faith, from a 2004 interview conducted by Cathleen Falsani.

Sing the Obama song, it’s fun!

obama-song-by-michael-howard-music-2

Of Further Interest

Jesus is Born–in a world of many faiths
Nelson Mandela Songs by Sri Chinmoy

* * *

An Indian In Japan

sri-chinmoy-100-metre-dash

Sri Chinmoy in Japan (right-click to enlarge)

The rich culture of Japan was explored by Indian spiritual master Sri Chinmoy during his numerous visits there. As a runner, in 1993 he participated in the World Veterans’ Championships in Miyazaki.

Video by Kedarvideo, Switzerland*

I am a sentimentalist at heart, and so really cherish this home movie style footage of Sri Chinmoy at the 1993 World Veterans’ Championships held in Miyazaki, Japan. Sri Chinmoy was 62 at the time, and his running form is still wonderful to behold, as is his good nature and ability to immediately get along with a group of strangers of many nationalities.

Due to knee problems, Sri Chinmoy had shifted his athletic attention from running to weightlifting about a decade earlier. This allowed him to concentrate more on upper body strength, with less daily wear and tear on the knees. But in keeping with his philosophy of challenging impossibility, in 1993 he was inspired to attend the World Veterans’ Championships and give his all to the 100-metre dash.

Watching him compete is a joyful experience slightly tinged with sadness for me. It reminds me of how much he suffered in order to inspire others, bring them joy, and offer a living lesson in determination. You can see that after sprinting, when he returns to a walking gait, he’s limping slightly.

I’m also reminded of a still image I captured from a 2001 video. It shows a moment where Sri Chinmoy is rising from a seated position. The occasion as a whole is a joyful one, but you can see the sadness in one close disciple’s eyes as she identifies with Sri Chinmoy’s physical suffering.

Sri Chinmoy in Cambodia, 2001. On a boat trip with disciples, he is seated drawing soul-birds with a green marker, but experiences some pain on rising. He is 70 years old. From a video by Niriha Datta.

Sri Chinmoy in Cambodia, 2001. On a boat trip with disciples, he is seated drawing soul-birds with a green marker, but experiences some pain on rising. He is 70 years old. From a video by Niriha Datta.

People sometimes wonder why I defend Sri Chinmoy so vigorously from those who, after his death, have tried to dismiss or discredit him. One reason is that I know how much he willingly suffered and took on the sufferings of others in order to bring joy to those who had known little true joy. He was many things to many people, including real hope for the hopeless. I would rather remember his smiling countenance:

Sri Chinmoy with the USA team in Miyazaki, 1993.

Sri Chinmoy with the USA team in Miyazaki, 1993.

Finishing up the 100-metre dash

Finishing up the 100-metre dash

A broad smile after finishing

A broad smile after finishing

The Miyazaki footage strikes me as wonderfully Japanese in that you see many different cross-sections of Japanese society represented. There’s an overarching spirit of good cheer, without any sense that the disparate cultural elements would clash — from taiko drummers to kimono dancers to a western-style marching band. The opening ceremonies were clearly modeled after the Olympics, with a sense of pageantry and ritual that’s also very Japanese.

Fireworks at the World Veterans' Championships in Miyazaki.

Fireworks at the World Veterans’ Championships in Miyazaki.

Pageantry predominates at the opening of the games.

Pageantry predominates at the opening of the games.

Some very young children seem slightly bewildered by it all. Unlike the adults, they weren't supplied with sun hats.

Some young children seem slightly bewildered by it all. Unlike the adults, they weren’t supplied with sun hats.

Ms. Ranjana Ghose, Director of the Jharna-Kala Art Foundation, participates in the ceremony and also runs.

Ms. Ranjana Ghose, Director of the Jharna-Kala Art Foundation, participates in the ceremony and also runs.

Sri Chinmoy was a man of diverse talents and capacities. While in Miyazaki, he gave a series of four of his legendary Peace Concerts on four consecutive days.

October 1993: Sri Chinmoy plays the flute at a Peace Concert in Miyazaki, Japan. Courtesy http://srichinmoyphoto.com/

October 1993: Sri Chinmoy plays the flute at a Peace Concert in Miyazaki, Japan. Courtesy http://srichinmoyphoto.com/

It boggles the mind to switch gears and take in the multifarious activities which he pursued as a reflection of an enlightened consciousness. Fortunately, the heart is much vaster than the mind. The heart of intuition, the heart of empathy can clasp him far more easily than the mind can grasp him.

Sri Chinmoy returned to Japan on a number of occasions. He was an accomplished visual artist, and as I note in “Put a Bird on It! Part Two,” he was in Kamakura in July 2006. Shortly before his 75th birthday, 75 of his acrylics on paper were exhibited at the Kōtoku-in Buddhist Temple.

Sri Chinmoy in Kamakura, July 2006.

Sri Chinmoy in Kamakura, July 2006.

Kamakura is the home of the Great Buddha, or Daibatsu. Nearly four decades earlier, on his first trip to Japan in 1969, Sri Chinmoy wrote:

To Kamakura

Kamakura! You in the Buddha
Are his Reality’s Face.
Kamakura! You with the Buddha
Are his Divinity’s Grace.
Kamakura! The Buddha’s Life for you
Is the limitless consolation
Of descending mankind.
Kamakura! Your life for the Buddha
Is the boundless promise
Of ascending mankind.

Sri Chinmoy emerged from the Hindu Yoga tradition, but had a universal outlook which allowed him to be of service to seekers of many different faiths. His book of plays Siddhartha Becomes The Buddha, as well as his focus on meditation, have endeared him to many a Buddhist seeker. Here Sri Chinmoy performs some of his songs honouring the Buddha, as well as the traditional “Buddham Saranam Gacchami” or “Three Vows”:

Listening to Sri Chinmoy’s soulful chanting, we are connected with an ancient tradition, still living and unbroken for thousands of years. The song “Nidra Bihin Buddha Debata” translates roughly as:

Borobudur, lap of the deep peace of the Buddha
Where divinity is present
Coming here, completely silent all the world’s waters.

Comparing Borobudur and Kamakura — two places of Buddhist pilgrimage — Sri Chinmoy writes:

Borobudur is the Buddha in the process of blossoming. Kamakura is the Buddha who has already blossomed. Borobudur has simplicity in purity and purity in simplicity. Kamakura has silence in power and power in silence. Both are totally different.

An unending thank you to Sri Chinmoy, and a big thank you to the videographers and webmasters who have worked tirelessly to chronicle his amazing life.

*Most images based on screenshots of the video by Kedarvideo, Switzerland.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.

Other Items of Interest

Hiya Bhasha Group performs “E Shubha Pranate E Buddha”

Listen to the full album on Radio Sri Chinmoy.

hiya-bhasha-buddham-sharanam-gacchami-3

Challenging Impossibility: Challenging the Oscars
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mark-juddery/challenging-impossibility_b_1788390.html

Sri Chinmoy’s Sporting Career
http://www.srichinmoycentre.org/sri_chinmoy/sri_chinmoy_sports

Sri Chinmoy: 1998 Interview on Weightlifting
http://www.srichinmoylibrary.com/mjw-2


Sidebar: Sri Chinmoy — “My Japanese Companion”

In 1979, Sri Chinmoy was still an avid runner who delighted in running and would travel great distances to enter marathons. Later, when he could no longer run due to a right knee injury, he would often speed walk. He filled book after book with reminiscences about running. This is the Run and Become, Become and Run series. Part 2 includes anecdotes from his visit to Greece to run in the Pheidippides Marathon, which he completed with a time of 5:39:41 at age 48.

My Japanese Companion

My first evening in Greece I went out to run. It seems that taxi drivers and car owners there are insane, especially at night. How badly they drive!

At every moment you are at their mercy, even in the park. I don’t know how, but they manage to drive right into the park itself. There is no street or anything; far from it. But they drive right into the park, and so speedily. Then they leave their cars there while they go to a party or some place. And we are trying to run there!

Inside the park an old Japanese man — very short, very skinny — started following me as I was running. I thought I was shorter than the shortest, but he was practically at my shoulder. And he was very old.

With such affection, such affection, he started running with me. Then we started talking. He told me all about his running experiences. I was very happy.

He was about 70 years old and he said he had come all the way from Japan for the marathon.

He was staying at the same hotel that I was. There were quite a few Japanese staying there. They all had come to run.

The following day also we ran together. I always make complaints about my strides, but his strides were shorter than mine. I ran two miles with him, very slowly.

I saw him once more after the marathon. He took seven hours and fifteen or twenty minutes. He was so delighted that he had completed it. Who would not be proud of him!

–Sri Chinmoy, 7 October 1979


Book Cover Project

Here are the book covers for this post, courtesy Sri Chinmoy Libary:

sri-chinmoy-my-salutation-to-japansri-chinmoy-siddhartha-becomes-the-buddhasri-chinmoy-the-world-experience-tree-climber-part-6sri-chinmoy-run-and-become-part-2

* * *

The Maryknoll Nun – Playboy Centerfold Paradox, Part 1

Does the spiritual life prepare people for worldly life? In what ways is this true or not true?

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

— Robert Frost

two-roads-diverged-in-a-yellow-wood.jpgIn recent posts I was tempted to go off on more tangents than I did, but there’s a certain flow which needs to be respected. So I’ve saved up some topics for further exploration here.

In “A Question of Forgiveness,” I found myself referring shorthand to “worldly people” and “spiritual people.” Those quick to complain about any trace of Manichaean dualism might say that there really is no such thing, that everyone has a mix of spiritual and worldly elements inside them. By the same token, some people subscribe to a wishy-washy, Upper West Side, John Lennon definition of spirituality in which “everything is spiritual.”

Yet, spiritual seekers tend to have a more definite sense that some things are intrinsically spiritual, while others lead us farther away from spirituality. Not all roads lead to Rome (or Vrindavan):

If you go to a place where there are flowers, incense, spiritual music, and people are praying and meditating, you will get one kind of vibration. If you go to a place where people are taking drugs and listening to satanic metal, you will get a completely different vibration. As a practical matter, it’s helpful to recognize the difference.

If you try to stand an egg on its head, it will always fall in one direction or another. The same is true of human nature. It’s almost impossible for a person to remain evenly balanced between spiritual and worldly drives and ambitions. Either spiritual or worldly qualities will predominate during any given period of their lives. Some people may lurch from side to side, but they do not remain perfectly balanced in the middle.

So, to speak in general terms about worldly people and spiritual people is not wrong, provided we accept that each person is potentially divine, that each person has some freedom of choice, and that people often change over time. Sometimes worldly people become spiritual; sometimes spiritual people become worldly.

In Christian theology, the impossibility of serving two masters is often stressed:

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness! No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other.

— The Gospel According to St. Matthew

Without exploring all the mystical implications in this passage, we can note how it comports with the psychological reality of human nature, and of apostasy. Those individuals who are divided in their nature may become like two persons: When their worldly qualities come to overpower their spiritual qualities, they may hate the spiritual part of themselves, hate their spiritual past, and hate the teacher who initiated them into spiritual practice. The aspiring soul is still present, but it cannot express itself because the human being has made friends with worldliness.

The soul is like the charioteer, but the other parts of our being may be dark and unruly, always looking for an opportunity to rebel, to gallop off in some other direction. What the soul loves, our own mind and vital may hate. But by practising spirituality, we aim to gradually bring the mind and vital under control, so that they cooperate in the soul’s mission.

When we are conscious of God and of the soul, we feel that the spiritual life is something good and beneficial. This is not merely a mental attitude, but something we feel deeply as a life-experience. We try to please God and please our soul, and we find that we receive many inner blessings for our efforts. These inner blessings help to convince us that we are doing the right thing in our lives by taking the spiritual approach.

But if we fall victim to doubt — if we doubt God, doubt the soul, and doubt the spiritual master who gave us initiation — then those very things which we took for many years to be good will suddenly seem bad. This is sometimes known as a hostile attack, where a person who was once very spiritual becomes a stark atheist and actively tries to take away the faith of others, or negate other’s spiritual efforts.

Faith can only be known by means of faith; love of God can only be known by love of God; light can only by seen by means of light. If we lose access to these things, then if we are spiritual seekers we will not be able to make sense of our lives, because for spiritual seekers, faith, love of God, and love of light are the essence of life.

When people suffer a hostile attack, they end their spiritual practice, and then blame the spiritual life for all the problems which ensue. This is clearly a misattribution of cause and effect.

— The author, from “Making Sense of the Spiritual Life”

These conflicts within the individual are also mirrored in society. During a spiritual phase, a person may join a spiritual group where people pray and meditate, read spiritual books, play spiritual music, and cultivate the life of the soul. But if their worldly nature rebels, then the same person may do a complete volte-face and join some sort of anti-cult group. There, people may claim that those who believe in God and the life of the soul are “brainwashed,” or under “mind control,” or otherwise deluded or exploited.

They supposedly need to be “rescued,” “deprogrammed,” “exit counselled,” or exposed to “testimonials” vilifying their spiritual group or teacher. This is euphemistically referred to as a process of “cult education” deemed necessary to return them to a condition of presumed psychological health — i.e. secular materialism and conformity to mainstream values. But as I’ve noted elsewhere, to equate psychological health with “reversion to the mean” (wink!) is a mistake that would never be made by a trailblazer in psychology like Carl Jung.

Nevertheless, if the de-conversion therapy, re-education, or re-socialization is successful (according to the objectives of its proponents), then those targeted will be turned back into average citizens who subscribe to production, consumption, and procreation as the end-all and be-all of life, and who can be relied upon to act with familiar motives of ego and ambition. Then their old friends and relatives (who always hated their spiritual phase) can pronounce them “cured,” welcoming them back into the fold of those who place self-interest above self-giving, and who are far too clever and sophisticated to be “taken in” by any faith-based philosophy requiring an integral commitment. The dwarves are for themselves!

Indeed, in “C.S. Lewis and the Mind Only Prison,” Henry Karlson explains how the author of The Chronicles of Narnia presented Platonist beliefs in a manner which also resonates with Hindu/Buddhist beliefs about the way that our own actions come to condition our minds, so that we are trapped in a hermeneutic of interpretation (or misinterpretation) which we ourselves create. These are deep concepts, and quoting only a portion of Karlson’s article would not do it justice. I suggest you check it out yourself:

“C.S. Lewis and the Mind Only Prison”
https://vox-nova.com/2009/09/20/c-s-lewis-and-the-mind-only-prison/

Psychological health in the true Jungian sense entails finding the means to remove that distorted hermeneutic by which we misapprehend the nature of the universe. Or as I say in “Paint It Black!”:

Spiritual intelligence is intelligence which is aware of the existence of God or of higher spiritual Truth. This higher awareness brings insight and understanding (or gnosis), so that we begin to see the universe as it truly is, not according to our limited mental constructs. Spiritual intelligence is intelligence which has received some illumination from higher light and wisdom, so that it no longer lives alone in a dark room, seeing only its own self-produced shadows. Spiritual intelligence is intelligence from which the “ink of the mind” has been dispelled in whole or in part, so that the universe may be seen in all its true, glowing colours.

But this understanding is rare. If we begin to achieve it, then statistically it will make us different from the majority, which embraces some variation on secular materialism or scientific rationalism as their guide for living. Spiritual insight will take us down a different road — one less traveled by.

Among apostates, anti-cultists, and participants in so-called “ex-cult support groups,” the complaint is often voiced that spiritual training does not prepare one for worldly life. If you begin to see reality as it is, will this necessarily make you rich and well-loved by your peers? Plato says no, based in part on his living experience of The Death of Socrates.

In the above lesson on Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, Alex Gendler closes by asking:

As we go about our lives, can we be confident in what we think we know? Perhaps one day, a glimmer of light may punch a hole in your most basic assumptions. Will you break free to struggle towards the light, even if it costs you your friends and family, or stick with comfortable and familiar illusions? Truth or habit? Light or shadow? Hard choices, but if it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. There are lots of us down here.

In the modern world (as in the ancient one), most nation states are ruled by political leaders of one stripe or another. There is often a huge amount of hoopla attendant to choosing the next political leader, and this takes on the nature of a sporting event (if not a war).

In our inner, spiritual lives, we are ideally free to worship as we please, to choose our own philosopher-kings. Yet, the inner life may be ignored to such an extent that it is made to look utterly irrelevant, like terra incognita.

Alex Gendler voices the concern that our friends and family may be satisfied with surface appearances, with comfortable and familiar illusions. Among one hundred persons, perhaps only one will care to break free to struggle towards the light. Yet, spiritual master Sri Chinmoy says: “No life should remain an unexplored reality.”

Here in Part 1, we’ve begun to grapple with the the seeming conflict between developing spiritual insight, and recognizing that spiritual insight is often not much valued in the world. Faced with opposing choices — like becoming a Maryknoll nun or a Playboy centerfold — we may (like Robert Frost) feel sorry that we could not travel both roads and be one traveler.

dorothy-faces-two-roadsMore next time.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.


Sidebar: Sri Chinmoy on The Greek Philosophers

Question: Could you speak a little about the Greek philosophers?

Sri Chinmoy: Socrates lived philosophy. Plato expressed philosophy. Aristotle combined the two.

Socrates tried to express the Truth in a very simple way. Sometimes he would speak for an hour to hammer home one idea. At other times, he could express the Truth in very few words. In Plato’s case, he went on and on. He brought his mind, his scholarship and everything to support his statements. If Plato had not come, then nobody would have known who Socrates was.

Aristotle was Plato’s disciple, but in some ways he surpassed his Guru. He was able to discover a few things directly. Where Plato’s mind was roaming and roaming, Aristotle expanded the mind and was able to perceive a higher Truth. That is why he got such unparalleled appreciation from Plato. Plato once said that if he placed his whole academy on one side and Aristotle on the other, Aristotle would win in terms of wisdom.

— Sri Chinmoy, from Philosophy: Wisdom-Chariot of the Mind, Agni Press, 1999

sri-chinmoy-philosophy-wisdom-chariot

* * *

 

A Question of Forgiveness

The question of how to deal with unjust attacks is an age-old one. Some people advocate a philosophy of total forgiveness. Others say that forgiveness should be tempered by an understanding of the real world and the nature of the individuals with whom one has to deal.

Some say that forgiveness should come after wrong actions have ended, but not while they are still occurring. A remorseful person should certainly be forgiven, but those who show no remorse and continue to do wrong actions may require justice rather than compassion, for their own progress. (See also “Making Sense of the Spiritual Life.”)

Once upon a time, some spiritual devotees were meditating in a church. Suddenly, they were distracted by the sound of breaking glass. Upon investigation, they found that someone was throwing rocks at the church windows, smashing them to bits. Others were calling for the church to be burned to the ground! The wrongdoers were worldly people whose minds had become agitated, and who had embraced an aggressive, destructive consciousness.

Some of the disciples said: “Let us pray for protection and meditate on compassion.” This was all well and good. But after awhile, either their prayer and meditation was not powerful enough, or else the situation required different handling. As the rocks kept coming and windows continued to be broken, another disciple said: “Let us call the police, since they also represent protection and it is their job to protect us.”

When the police arrived, they arrested one or two rock throwers, and others scattered into the night.

What can we learn from this story? In an imperfect world, there is no perfect solution to problems of harassment. Undoubtedly, compassion is a powerful force; but sometimes justice is required to deal with aggressive, destructive people, or else they may destroy spiritual things which are most precious and cannot easily be replaced.

This does not apply only to physical objects, but to abstract things as well. A person such as a spiritual teacher has only one reputation, which he or she has built up over many decades through innumerable acts of kindness and compassion. If crude people wrongly attack the reputation of a spiritual master and will not stop, the situation may eventually require justice.

The problem is aggravated when those who have become aggressive and destructive feel they can get away with anything precisely because they are attacking gentle spiritual people. While I definitely don’t advocate zapping anyone with a ray gun, this short clip from Doctor Who dramatizes the outcome when a destructive person mistakenly assumes that the only possible response to their destructive behaviour is one of mercy:

English majors please note: River Song’s use of the passive voice (“It died”) is not generally recommended, though used here to good effect. 😉

According to the varying mythologies of many cultures and religions, there are different kinds of beings assigned to perform different celestial duties. Their qualities and appearance are suited to the tasks which they perform, or they may take on a different appearance according to the circumstances.

The compassionate nature of the universe is reflected in that people usually have numerous opportunities to change their ways before they reach a final reckoning with justice. They see the face of compassion many times before they finally see the face of justice. It is up to them to choose how they want to progress. In the case of spiritual people around the world, they often make the same essential prayer to their chosen deity: “Protect us with Thy compassionate face.”

When we think of a snake, often we think of its destructive qualities: it may hiss or bite. Usually the hiss is a warning, and if we ignore the hiss then we get the bite. But what of a snake who has become a vegetarian, recited holy mantras, and adopted principles of ahimsa (non-violence)? If such a creature existed, how would it defend itself from predators? This question is addressed in a parable from the Ramakrishna-Vivekananda tradition:

“How To Deal with the Wicked”
http://ramakrishnaparables.blogspot.com/search/label/How%20to%20deal%20with%20the%20wicked

For those with little patience for spiritual parables, I will give away the punchline: I told you not to bite. I never told you not to hiss!

Some people demonstrate an impulsive nature lacking in wisdom and restraint. Perhaps they once knew wisdom and restraint, but have lost these qualities due to whimsicality, or because they abandoned their spiritual practice. In any event, they now do much harm. When we see the harm that they do, and their utter imperviousness to compassion, it is clear they need to be hissed at.

When compassion fails, some people may need a harsh word or Internet takedown or they will just go on attacking. This restores their sense of balance or understanding of cause and effect. “Oh, if I go on the Internet and attack someone, I too may be attacked.” Duh! Some people do learn from this, and others who have suffered feel vindicated when they see that justice is operating, and people who act cruelly and callously do get their comeuppance.

Worldly people are often obsessed with protecting their reputations, which are allied to their moneymaking activities; yet they think nothing of trying to destroy the reputations of spiritual people through libel. This points to a serious ethical imbalance, which occurs because worldly people (particularly apostates) tend to otherize spiritual people. They imagine that spiritual people do not enjoy the same rights to dignity, privacy, and protection of reputation.

In “Lying Isn’t So Bad If It Makes You Feel Good,” John Leo addresses “the postmodern notion that there is no literal truth, only voices and narratives. If so, who can object if you make up a narrative that expresses the truth you feel?” But see also: “Tawana Brawley Rape Hoax Leads To Defamation Damage Payout 26 Years Later.” One consequence of false confessions of victimhood is that they may do collateral damage to third parties. Contrary to the social trend, some people do value their privacy and resent being used as mere objects in someone else’s spurious public confession.

In “My Lie: Why I falsely accused my father,” Meredith Maran discusses how a “perfect storm” of influences including recovered memory therapy, feminist political theory, and social pressure caused her to claim that her father molested her. Years later, she realized it wasn’t true, and was surprised at how strong a role external factors like therapy, politics, and social pressure played in making her commit to a story which she knew in retrospect was a lie. Her father suffered greatly because of that lie, whose genesis was bad therapy and social/political faddism. Yet, she herself was not an automaton or passive agent. Looking back, she knew she had done wrong.

Anti-cult operatives take advantage of the current fad by persuading gullible individuals that the need for public-confession-as-therapy and the need to embrace a new identity as a “cult survivor” outweigh any loyalties, privacy concerns, or traditional ethical and legal constraints against libel. So, drunk with the heady draft of fellow “support group” members egging them on, these people proceed to tell the most extravagant lies about their former spiritual teacher or group. The best “whoppers” are then leaked to the press by anti-cult operatives, or posted on a remote website, devoid of any clue about the support group pressures which led to their creation. (See elsewhere my criticism of attorney Joseph C. Kracht for orchestrating or participating in such fraudulent activities, thus giving them his legal seal of approval.)

As I discussed in Part 2, a typical problem with ex-cult support groups is that members otherize spiritual groups whose beliefs and practices they formerly espoused. They experience a pathological loss of empathy for former friends, colleagues and mentors, and a pathological escalation of hostility. They no longer honour the social contract and no longer treat others with basic human decency. This leads them to commit unethical or even illegal acts against their former colleagues.

What we’re really talking about is a socially constructed view of the religious other as archetypal bogeyman. This view inherently implies that the other has no rights, so who could possibly object to false accounts on the grounds of libel, harassment, or false light invasion of privacy? Therapy culture plus Internet culture equals an unlimited opportunity to publicly shame people with whom one has some disagreement. This is the new emotional etiquette championed by some ethically rudderless psychologists and attorneys engaged in anti-cult advocacy.

— The author, from “Therapists, Hubris, and Native Intelligence.”

Boiling things down to a usable form: Don’t blame the fabled snake for hissing when harassed. Just pray it doesn’t remember how to bite! Those seeking mercy should demonstrate genuine remorse. Otherwise they are more likely to receive justice. When it is a question of forgiveness, the answer depends on the sincerity of the individual.

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.

* * *

 

The Death of Sri Chinmoy

sri-chinmoy-smilingSri Chinmoy died on the morning of October 11, 2007, at his home in Briarwood, New York. He had but lately returned from a trip to St. Petersburg, Russia, where he performed a small concert, took part in the dedication of a children’s hospital, and met with Russian disciples. He was physically weak upon his return, and over a period of days his condition deteriorated, culminating in a fatal heart attack.

Upon his passing at age 76, his followers held a weeklong vigil of meditation, poetry, and song observed at many centres worldwide. The main gathering was at Aspiration-Ground — a former tennis court in Briarwood which had previously been converted to an outdoor temple or “meditation garden.” Those who could travelled to New York.

For six days, Sri Chinmoy’s body lay in wake. Thousands of followers and visiting dignitaries filed by the open casket, sometimes stopping to kneel and meditate for a few minutes. There was no pressure to move quickly. The line was long, and followers often rejoined it; new mourners were given faster access. The scent of flowers, candles, and incense pervaded the warm fall air. Most women wore white saris of mourning.

Female followers of Sri Chinmoy mourn his death in October 2007. New York Times photo.

Musicians flew in from around the world. Groups and individuals dedicated to performing Sri Chinmoy’s music played softly in the background as the walkby continued. These included Shindhu, Mountain-Silence, Japaka Orchestra, Premik Russell Tubbs, and many others. A large memorial service was held at Aspiration-Ground on Sunday, October 14, 2007. Countless words of tribute and affection were spoken. A barrow of long-stemmed roses was brought out; each person offered a rose at his casket; the stream of farewells lasted for eight hours. The vigil and walkby then continued on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.

On the afternoon of Thursday, October 18, 2007 — one week after his passing — Sri Chinmoy was interred at Aspiration-Ground. The samadhi, or burial shrine, was built of white marble. Gongs were rung. His casket was lowered into the burial shrine. Each follower present took a handful of white sand, circled the burial shrine, and cast it in. This concluded the austere and dignified Hindu ceremony. At intervals, a recording of Sri Chinmoy singing the word “gratitude” a capella was played over the sound system, based on the belief that his emphasis on gratitude was one of the unique contributions of his teachings.

There were further events marking the thirteenth, thirtieth, and sixtieth days after his mahasamadhi or “great trance” — as it is called when a spiritual master leaves the body. On October 30, 2007, there was a large celebration at the United Nations commemorating his life and work. The predominant theme expressed in tributes from religious leaders, diplomats, athletes, musicians, and humanitarians was that Sri Chinmoy began a great work for humanity which those who love him will carry on in his spirit of self-giving. In the aftermath, his centres around the world have continued to meet regularly to meditate, sing his songs, read his writings, work selflessly, and share in the burden of losing a person so beloved.

At Aspiration-Ground, where Sri Chinmoy often sat far into the night listening to his disciples perform songs or plays, life goes on — if not quite as usual — yet not wholly changed. The songs and plays continue; and since the master’s burial shrine is there, his followers feel they are still offering him the fruits of their actions when they bow to him. In the apocrypha of letters, e-mails, and driveway conversations after his passing, the feeling most often expressed is that his spiritual presence is stronger than ever — but secondmost is “I miss him so much!”

Sri Chinmoy’s life was both a spiritual and musico-poetic event. The same may be said of his physical death. Since his passing, followers have been writings poems, songs and essays recalling their intense feelings of bhakti (divine love) towards him, describing the scene of his wake using far more descriptive language than is possible in a dry narrative. This link to an essay by Sumangali Morhall may provide more details to interested readers: Farewell, Sri Chinmoy.

On the last page of the last book of poems and prayers published during his lifetime, one finds this entry:

sri-chinmoy-aphorism

sri-chinmoy-eternal-journey

sri-chinmoy-brid-small

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Making Sense of the Spiritual Life

queen-elizabeth-golds-gym-miles-davis-porgy-and-bess

With detours into the history of England, and a few bars of “Bess, You Is My Woman Now”

Having become interested in the spiritual life in my youth, I have spent many years trying to make sense of it. This is as it should be, since the transition from worldly life to spiritual life can take time for some people, especially those like me who are stubborn and set in their ways.

The best advice comes from spiritual masters who know the subject inside out, and who possess not only knowledge, but also the power to guide seekers in their inner lives and act like private tutors.

I am only a fellow seeker, and not a first-rate one at that. Yet, among those who struggle to make sense of the spiritual life, homespun wisdom from fellow seekers is sometimes valued. So please take anything you may find helpful from my comments here.

In the Western world, we are used to separating knowledge by subject. We spend an hour in history class, then we go to archery or calculus. But spirituality is an integral subject that is meant to apply to life as a whole — all of life.

We are also used to very limited commitments in which we don’t invest ourselves fully. We may go for a baccalaureate degree, but our heart is not in it and we are only counting the days till we meet all the requirements.

Spirituality is different because when it dawns in our lives, it’s a life-process. It begins to change us, and these changes are holistic. Spirituality is not a limited subject, but a life-process which will dictate the course of our lives for the future. Some people make faster progress because they fully cooperate with this process. They accept it wholeheartedly, and do not self-sabotage their own highest goals.

Spirituality also differs because it’s not something imposed from without by society. We begin the spiritual journey because we feel the inner need. Often, we have a series of experiences which convince us of the need to follow a spiritual path. This need comes from within, from our soul. Then, when we outwardly connect with a particular teacher and path, we get a very strong inner response and may have conversion experiences which affect us deeply and tell us that we have found the right teacher.

These things concern God, the soul, and our inner life. The conversion experience or spiritual initiation takes place in the very depths of our heart, and afterward we are inwardly changed, though it may take some time for our lives to begin to change outwardly.

The soul is like the charioteer, but the other parts of our being may be dark and unruly, always looking for an opportunity to rebel, to gallop off in some other direction. What the soul loves, our own mind and vital may hate. But by practising spirituality, we aim to gradually bring the mind and vital under control, so that they cooperate in the soul’s mission.

When we are conscious of God and of the soul, we feel that the spiritual life is something good and beneficial. This is not merely a mental attitude, but something we feel deeply as a life-experience. We try to please God and please our soul, and we find that we receive many inner blessings for our efforts. These inner blessings help to convince us that we are doing the right thing in our lives by taking the spiritual approach.

But if we fall victim to doubt — if we doubt God, doubt the soul, and doubt the spiritual master who gave us initiation — then those very things which we took for many years to be good will suddenly seem bad. This is sometimes known as a hostile attack, where a person who was once very spiritual becomes a stark atheist and actively tries to take away the faith of others, or negate other’s spiritual efforts.

Faith can only be known by means of faith; love of God can only be known by love of God; light can only by seen by means of light. If we lose access to these things, then if we are spiritual seekers we will not be able to make sense of our lives, because for spiritual seekers, faith, love of God, and love of light are the essence of life.

As consumers, we are used to purchasing products which we can use at our sweet will, and throw out when we tire of them. According to this philosophy, a good product is one which is cheaply bought, does everything we want, and does not require any upkeep.

If we are spiritual seekers, then if we judge the spiritual life with our heart and soul, we will feel that it is everything to us, it is the source of our deepest joy, and the essence of who we are. “I am the soul, and the soul is a portion of the Life-Breath of God.” This is the blissful life-experience of the devoted aspirant.

But if we judge the spiritual life as if it were a consumer product, then easily we can find fault with it. Spirituality does not turn on and off like a light switch; when we look for it, we cannot always find it immediately; it requires daily upkeep or else like fine Tudor silver it will tarnish.

What’s more, the art of spirituality lies in self-giving. We do not become spiritual by hoarding something or grabbing something for ourselves. In order to grow into spirituality, we need to give deeply of ourselves. This self-giving makes us kings or queens in the inner world, but usually does not make us rich. People who care nothing for faith, love of God, and love of light may say we are failures because we are not basking in material wealth. But when we are living the spiritual life, we feel that we are getting utmost joy, and that a life of material pleasure would only detract from that joy.

We can only know the joy of self-giving by learning the art of it. As I discuss in “Self-Interest, Self-Giving, Low Ethics and High Ethics”:

Trying to become more self-giving is a great adventure, and is something people do as a means of self-improvement, to perfect their own nature. If they practice at it, then slowly and steadily they may improve. But occasionally one encounters people whose nature is brittle. Something in them snaps. They completely reject the years they spent in spiritual practice, and become more selfish than they ever were before. They become obsessed with discrediting the spiritual ideals and movements they formerly embraced. This type of negative ego reaction is something one has to guard against. One simple suggestion I would offer which applies equally to people of all faiths is to always try and be a good-hearted person, not mean-spirited or vindictive. If you have given, do not regret giving.

You have to be honest about why you chose to lead a self-giving life. It’s because you saw the wisdom in it, and because for many years it gave you joy. If you’re not honest with yourself, then you have no hope of regaining what you lost.

Just because someone has experienced a rebellion in their nature doesn’t mean their spiritual progress has to end. Some people have these extremes within them, so they progress by lurching from side to side. It is not ideal, but it is workable. After a period in which you have become doubting, selfish, and hostile, you can gradually bring yourself back to the starting point and once again begin to practice self-giving, which includes both inner charity and outer charity.

The outer charity we know: to give money or volunteer one’s time. But what is the inner charity? To think good thoughts, to feel kindness, sympathy, and love towards others, to feel gratitude to God.

Now, I would like to focus in on a subject which requires some insight and mental analysis. When someone suffers a hostile attack, how do they view the spiritual life? Most of the rewards of the spiritual life are inner; and spirituality is a life-process which by its very nature requires that we continue to walk along the path (whatever path the seeker has chosen, whether it is Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, Jewish, or something else).

So if we judge the spiritual life like secular consumers, we may say that the spiritual life is very bad because when we stop leading it, we can become depressed or ill. Just like taking vitamins and eating healthy foods daily, when we practice the spiritual life daily, this strengthens us and softens the blow from many negative experiences which would otherwise hit us head on. When someone suffers a hostile attack and ends their spiritual practice, they may become depressed or even physically ill, because they are depriving themselves of something which as spiritual seekers they need for their health and well-being. I believe this to be a subtle inner law.

In some cases, when people lose faith in the spiritual teacher who first gave them initiation, they may descend into drug and alcohol abuse. But these problems are not caused by the spiritual life.

Suppose we take ignorance to be a most painful disease which afflicts humanity as a whole. You have ignorance, I have ignorance, he has ignorance, she has ignorance. But some of us take daily medicine to counteract ignorance. This medicine is our spiritual practice. This helps to lessen our ignorance, and we do not suffer so much.

Now, with any course of tablets, you can judge over time whether or not it is helping your condition. You used to suffer so much from this, that and the other, but with a particular medicine you are suffering far less. Then when you stop taking the medicine, your condition becomes acute. So you know the medicine is helping for two reasons:

1. When you were taking the medicine, your condition improved.
2. When you stopped taking the medicine, your suffering returned.

BUT (and this is very important!): When people suffer a hostile attack, they end their spiritual practice, and then blame the spiritual life for all the problems which ensue. This is clearly a misattribution of cause and effect.

I have personally seen people become unhappy after making a sudden, abrupt change in their lives — a change where they cut themselves off from people and activities which had once sustained them emotionally and spiritually. Then, in their unhappiness, they misattribute the cause, blaming the people and activities from which they cut themselves off.

In the language of the street: you blow someone off, then complain they’re not there for you. But how can they be? You pushed them away!

It’s also like a child who kills her parents, then demands sympathy because she’s an orphan. Or like a patient who’s making progress by taking a prescribed course of medicine; then she stops taking the medicine, gets sick, and (crazily) blames the doctor!

Worldly life is all around us; most of us grew up leading the material life, a life based largely on pleasure and ego-gratification. We get some satisfaction from this, but it is a limited teaching, and therefore only provides limited satisfaction. For some people it is enough; for others not.

If in your youth you underwent a series of spiritual experiences and then spent ten or twenty years leading the spiritual life, that means you are a spiritual seeker by nature. Your needs are different from someone whose main drive (and therefore main satisfaction) is in ego and ambition.

Spiritual life differs from worldly life. When we graduate to spiritual life we need to unlearn many things which worldly life taught us. We try to progress from limited truths which provide limited satisfaction to vast truths which provide infinitely greater satisfaction. So worldly life is good in its way, but if we are spiritual seekers then we learn to go beyond it. We graduate to a higher teaching.

If you lead the spiritual life for ten or twenty years, this further prepares you to lead the spiritual life, not worldly life. If you do a sudden about-face, you may experience ill effects. But these ill effects are not caused by the spiritual life, spiritual teacher, or spiritual community; they’re caused by your own abrupt cessation of spiritual practices which had sustained you for many years.

In The Karate Kid, Pat Morita famously advises Ralph Macchio:

Walk on road… Walk left side, safe. Walk right side, safe. Walk middle, sooner or later get squish just like grape. Here, karate, same thing. Either you karate do “yes” or karate do “no.” You karate do “guess so,” just like grape. Understand?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3lQSxNdr3c

This relates to my earlier point about not self-sabotaging your own highest goals. Spiritual life do “yes”? I guess so, but I also want a tattoo, want to learn ballroom dancing, want a personal trainer, want to get married…

We all tend to suffer from the problem that on the one hand a part of us is sincere in wanting to go on the spiritual quest. But another part of us, like a terrorist, issues a list of vital demands that must be met! Or, like the camel putting its nose under the tent, we keep adding one more desire, one more desire, until finally the teacher says “No more!” What can the poor teacher do? It’s his job to whittle down our desires, not constantly surrender to them.

Pat Morita’s catchy monologue reflects a universal law: You have ample opportunity to decide what will really satisfy you in life. You can try out the spiritual life for a short time without making any commitment. But eventually you have to choose: Spiritual life do “yes” or spiritual life do “no.” The fact that you eventually have to make a commitment and stick to it is really not a drawback; it’s more in the essential nature of the thing — something to be understood and eventually accepted.

There is a kind of inner obligation which cannot be understood apart from questions about the nature of the soul. The soul is like the charioteer, but some people want to throw out the charioteer and pilot their own lives in a whimsical manner. The soul is also like a most beautiful child which needs to be fed in a certain way, a spiritual way. When someone receives initiation from a spiritual master so that their heart is opened and they are inundated with the light of the soul, this means their soul has a connection with that particular master. As the human being has a human father, to the soul-child the spiritual master is the spiritual father. In this case, the soul will feel miserable if the human being prevents it from being close to the spiritual master, or even tries to harm or harass the spiritual master.

When the soul comes to the fore in our day-to-day activities, we spontaneously experience bliss and a beautiful flowing quality. But if we greatly displease our soul, then the soul does not come to the fore and life will seem tired, forced, mechanical. In some cases, the soul will even place pressure on the human being to act in a more divine manner. Suffering may come if we greatly displease our own soul or go against its wishes. This is not superstition, but a valuable inner truth. How should we take this truth? The idea is not to live in fear, but rather live in harmony with the soul-child who dreams. Sri Chinmoy writes:

The Soul-Bird

O world-ignorance,
Although
You have shackled my feet,
I am free.

Although
You have chained my hands,
I am free.

Although
You have enslaved my body,
I am free.

I am free because I am not of the body.
I am free because I am not the body,
I am free because I am the soul-bird
That flies in Infinity-Sky.
I am the soul-child that dreams
On the Lap of the immortal King Supreme.

When we identify with the soul and try and please the soul, this leads to freedom, and in freedom there is peace and bliss. This is the positive way to understand the nature of the soul.

We cannot be all things to all people. Worldly life is a mass-produced commodity. We begin life as one of the herd, but eventually we learn something of our own needs and aspirations. It is our soul which makes us feel our uniqueness, and reveals to us a path which is ours and not somebody else’s. Eventually, we follow the path which is right for us. We follow a spiritual path to the best of our capacity, even if it is only a beginner’s capacity, even if we see that we make millions of mistakes due to our previous association with ignorance.

As I discuss in “Doubt, Faith, and the Ethics of Apostasy,” life is cyclic. We sometimes go through phases which are more spiritual or less so. We need to ride the ups and downs without ever losing hope, abandoning our spiritual practice, or allowing our nature to become hostile and destructive. Otherwise, no matter how many good things we have done before, if we become outwardly destructive then we court cosmic punishment for our misdeeds.

A Swami of the Ramakrishna Order of Monks used to say that life is constant petting and slapping. When we do good things, life pets us. When we do bad things, life slaps us. We cannot avoid this, since the law of karma applies to everyone, even kings and queens.

Once upon a time in the sixteenth century, there was a great Queen called Queen Elizabeth. She ruled England with intelligence and diligence during a golden era which saw the flowering of poetry, music, and theatre.

But there came a time when Queen Elizabeth became totally dissatisfied with all the obligations that go with being a Queen. After too much English drama, bickering between Catholics and Protestants, and the invasion of Latin music in 1588, she felt she could get more enjoyment by being one of the common people. So one day, she disguised herself in attire that was most ordinary, slipped out of the palace, and made her way to a publick house where there was dancing and merrymaking.

There, she became carried away by the festivities, and began dancing upon a tabletop as others clapped. Then she lost her balance, fell, and nearly broke her collarbone. Much to her surprise, no one even offered to help her up. They were too caught up in the dancing, and another dancer quickly took her place upon the tabletop.

How coarse these people were! Although she got a little attention from them, they were really not capable of appreciating her queenly qualities. When she finally held out her hand to indicate that she wished to be helped up off the floor, a man quickly grasped it. But the man was drunk, and began singing “Bess, you is my woman now” in one-and-a-half part harmony. His breath reeked of tobacco. When she moved to break away from him, he cursed her, calling her an “ungrateful wench.”

She departed the publick house and soon returned to Richmond Palace to resume her duties. She philosophized that even if she faced many difficulties as Queen, at least these difficulties were commensurate with her station in life, and by discharging them faithfully she would be true to her own destiny.

Our human wisdom will say that a common pub-goer should not have insulted Queen Elizabeth. But in the story, only when she was buffeted by crude people did she realize she was in the wrong place. If you choose to make a spectacle of yourself in a publick house, all bets are off as to what may happen, and the same might be said today of the Internet.

According to their soul’s need and the life they have led, each person has a place where they cosmically belong and where they are protected. When they go to the right place and do those things which are needful, life pets them. If they go to the wrong place and betray the truths and values which are their birthright, then life slaps them. They may be ridiculed, treated rudely and in an unaccustomed manner. There is no solution to this problem other than to go to the right place and do the right thing. Only by discharging our rightful duties can we be free of them.

There is always suffering in life. But some suffering serves a noble purpose and helps to bring us spiritual wisdom. Other suffering merely debases us unnecessarily. Since we cannot avoid suffering, then if we are spiritual seekers by custom and practice, let us try to go to the right place, do the right thing, and endure such suffering as will ennoble us. Or as Lennon-McCartney famously sang: “Get back! Get back! Get back to where you once belonged.”

lavanya-sri-chinmoy-1975-jharna-kala-filmThis is not an absolutist philosophy. As I always say, if you cannot do good, then at least do no harm. Try to weather a spiritually low period without becoming an outwardly destructive person.

The difficulty is that because we cherish some negative feelings, we seek out a negative community. Then we inherit other people’s problems as well as our own.

During a spiritually low period, old friends who have become absolutely hostile to the teacher who initiated them may invite you to join them. They want you to loudly and publicly denounce your faith.

If you take bad counsel and burn all your spiritual bridges behind you, if you become a “spiritual saboteur,” then how will you cycle back to a spiritual phase of life? The spiritual world will disown you, and spiritual people will want nothing to do with you. You will be left to the tender mercies of people who pretend to be loving and compassionate, but would kick their old guru down a flight of stairs if they had the chance. Such will be your new traveling companions.

Once, these people begged a guru to give them initiation and help them with their life-problems. Then, through lack of vigilance they allowed base desire and ambition to once again enter into them, to rule them and own them. Now, they see their old guru as merely an impediment to their love life or business life. They want to go on a million dollar shopping spree, and his teachings on self-giving are standing in their way. So they would be happy to murder him if only he had not already left the body.

Do not hate whom your soul loves, or you may court cosmic punishment. This punishment does not come from God or from the spiritual master, but from some other place. Just as the inner world is filled with gods and goddesses who are ready to shower the heads of spiritual aspirants with compassion, the inner world also has dharma protectors who mete out punishment to those who constantly break the cosmic law. You cannot fool them with some smarmy talk about why you acted like an ingrate and a scoundrel, because they see into your very heart.

When we no longer care for compassion, our better angels desert us, and our fate comes to depend on a quite different set of beings who are unforgiving in their judgement. When we thumb our nose at compassion, we get justice instead. It is we who choose.

These things must be said because they are of benefit to those who have left the path of love and devotion, and are now progressing unconsciously through the infinitely slow and painful path of justice. Is compassion not a better teaching?

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.


Bonus Track: Miles Davis – There’s a Boat That’s Leaving Soon for New York

*  *  *

Put a Bird on It! Part Two

Examining the work of Sri Chinmoy, including his abstract expressionist paintings and bird drawings. Plus, learning what he himself says about art.

The question has arisen: How seriously do mainstream art critics take the art of Sri Chinmoy? The words “mainstream” and “seriously” tend to cloud the issue; but the simple answer is that some critics do take Sri Chinmoy’s art very seriously, especially those interested in Asian art and spiritual art, and those who are curators of peace museums. He would not have had numerous gallery exhibitions if there were not some corners of the art world which deeply appreciate his visionary approach.

In the postmodern period, there is nothing resembling a single centralized authority on art. A successful artist is one who enjoys an audience which values his or her art, and which includes some favourably disposed art critics. Sri Chinmoy certainly achieved these things, as is borne out in the following video:

Deeper and more meaningful questions might be asked, such as:

– What is valuable in Sri Chinmoy’s art?
– How should we understand it?
– What is the connection between spirituality and art?
– How does he himself speak about art?

I will endeavour to answer some of these questions — not that my answers will be in any sense definitive, but they may at least shed some light and lead to other more interesting questions…

Sri Chinmoy is not the product of Western training in art, and is not responding to trends in European art. He’s not answering Picasso or Warhol or Rothko or Rauschenberg, or commenting on the century of death which was the twentieth century, or protesting by going on an art strike. He’s doing something quite different.

More than anything else, Sri Chinmoy’s work represents a magnificent outpouring of joy which bypasses the intellectual mind. Yet, we should not mistake his art for the naïve. He had a fantastic capacity to absorb different influences and to make them his own. Some of his major works can be most easily classified as abstract expressionist.

Sri Chinmoy dwarfed by a stage backdrop developed from an acrylic painting he did on November 19, 1985. Original 30 x 22 cm. Photo by Apaguha Vesely.

Sri Chinmoy dwarfed by a stage backdrop made from an acrylic painting he did on November 19, 1985. Original 30 x 22 cm. Photo by Apaguha Vesely.

To hone in on the details, we can turn to this video (produced by Kedar Misani) of the original painting:

There is clearly a worlds within worlds quality as we move through the different sections; and while most of it is abstract, bird forms do emerge amidst a riot of colour and texture which is yet not chaotic, but reflects a balance between freedom and harmony.

One thing art critics do appreciate is an enduring vision carried out prolifically over a multi-year period. This is one of the ways Sri Chinmoy distinguished himself. What’s often overlooked is that Sri Chinmoy is (in part) a conceptual artist. In addition to his abstracts, he drew millions of birds, and was the original put-a-bird-on-it guy, as I discuss in Part 1, which includes videos of large gallery exhibits.

Sri Chinmoy was a gentle soul, yet in his art he has something to say and is extremely persistent and insistent on saying it. This makes him worth listening to. Just seeing a handful of his works in small format on the Internet hardly does him justice. In Asian art and spiritual art, we often find a convergence between the gallery space and the sacred space. It’s in the gallery space that Sri Chinmoy’s art really comes alive, creating a universal sacred space whose deity is joy. (We all need joy.)

It’s one thing to draw a few birds; it’s quite another to draw literally millions of them, so that they remain (for all intent and purposes) countless. Only when one sees those rare gallery exhibits where there are thousands of his works on display on multiple levels does one begin to get a sense of how vast his vision was, and how deeply he believed in the essential message which underlies his work: Life is beautiful! If it isn’t, put a bird on it! (Yet, even large gallery exhibits can only hold a fraction of his work.)

Most often exhibited are his paintings and drawings on canvas or paper, but he was also fond of drawing on objects such as those he encountered in his travels. While visiting Bali in 2001, he transformed ordinary objects into objets d’art by adorning them with his characteristic bird forms.

Sri Chinmoy: Bali 2001, drawn object

Sri Chinmoy: Bali 2001, drawn object

There is often a sense of playfulness in Sri Chinmoy’s work, and this playfulness is meant to disarm the viewer.

Kagoshima, 1997: Sri Chinmoy draws birds on a background containing multiple iterations of the same cat

Kagoshima, 1997: Sri Chinmoy draws birds on a background containing multiple iterations of the same cat

The latter work may make us smile and remind us of the Dada artists. In a world of mass-produced commodities, Sri Chinmoy adds his signature element — his consciousness — to something that was extremely ordinary, thus transforming it. Mass-produced cats vs. hand-drawn birds!

Sri Chinmoy: another work from Kagoshima, this one reflecting strong Japanese influence

Sri Chinmoy: another work from Kagoshima, this one reflecting strong Japanese influence

Art as Anti-Environment

There are deep parallels between art and spirituality. The secular non-art space we routinely inhabit and traverse tends to numb us and make us unaware of the artistic and spiritual dimensions of life. The secular media space of news, traffic, weather and sitcoms — as well as the physical space dominated by rectangular office blocks and subways filled with trash — these things constitute a pervasive environment which shapes our perceptions while also numbing us. That’s why environmental psychologists are fanatics for creating parks and odd-shaped spaces which liberate our perceptions and give us back our humanity.

It’s no wonder that someone with a new message to communicate may go up on a mountaintop or take followers out into the desert in order to create a liminal space — a place where change becomes possible. Society tolerates all kinds of ideas as long as they don’t lead to real change. But historically, the typical reaction to anything producing real change has been one of hostility.

Ideally, a sacred space such as a church or temple should be a place where change is possible; but this is not always the case. In Jesus’s time, the temple had become ossified and was not the best place to present a blueprint for creating a more compassionate society.

A museum can be a sacred space. Critic and curator Germano Celant wryly observes:

Art is the new religion of today. When you go [to an avant-garde museum], you don’t understand, but you trust. That’s what the religion is about — you have to trust because it’s in the museum!

BBC presenter Michael Wood notes:

Our works of art appear to have become ruins. Only our perception is real, and our senses are bombarded with the images and sounds of media which inform us, but do not transform us. In a society saturated with data, the function of the artist is no longer to depict events, but rather to reawaken our perception.

This reawakening of perception is a shared concern of both artists and spiritual teachers.

When Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount, people got something from this which they weren’t getting from their temple at the time. The temple had become a commercial space due to the activities of the money-changers. There, it was business as usual. In the physical space of the temple, Jesus did not find the openness or suspension of disbelief which would have allowed him to create a sacred space. Therefore, he spoke upon a hillside. Had there been a museum handy, perhaps he would have chosen that!

Like a great music that puts to shame lesser musics, the sacred space is innocent in itself, but reveals by contrast that which is profane or devoid of true meaning. The truths we encounter in the sacred space — whether we call them spiritual truths or artistic truths — may put us in conflict with the conventional and mundane. This is so because the conventional and mundane is not actually a passive or neutral environment, but rather a place where messages are being blared over loudspeakers, only we have grown deaf or numb through constant exposure.

Insipid elevator music is propaganda, smoke-filled rooms are propaganda, political speeches which say nothing are propaganda, commercial advertisements are propaganda. Together these things speak of an existence ruled by production, consumption, procreation, entertainment, technological enhancement, and miracle drugs. It makes no sense, yet there is little time to ponder it. The space for artistic and spiritual enlightenment either does not exist, or else has been banished to some remote location we must consciously seek out. I would say the latter is the case.

This is the subtext of François Truffaut’s vastly underrated film version of Ray Bradbury’s novel Fahrenheit 451. There, in the mainstream everything has become topsy-turvy: Instead of putting out fires, firemen burn books. The only remaining option for people of refined sensibilities is to seek out an alternative community which still values art, literature, and spiritual insight.

Fahrenheit 451

Fahrenheit 451 — ending

There’s a paradox here: On the one hand, we need only look within. On the other hand, it’s difficult to find support for the inner journey while fully ensconced in the noisy hubbub of the mainstream.

In Marshall McLuhan: Theoretical elaborations, Gary Genosko writes that “McLuhan sees art as creating a conflict which results in making things intelligible. He even suggests at one point that environment is propaganda until dialogue begins…”

When the artist does something new and unexpected, this initially creates confusion and conflict; leading to protest and condemnation, but eventually to dialogue. Finally, in the course of trying to understand the artist, we do get an intelligible picture. We gain insights previously lacking because we were stuck in an environment which constantly (but invisibly) reinforced a trite, propagandistic view of reality. But by creating an “anti-environment” (or sacred space), the artist ultimately liberates us. This is similar to the spiritual teacher who challenges our preconceptions and ultimately ushers in a new consciousness.

Genosko writes: “The question becomes whether the hateful contraries are in a work or whether a work forms a hateful contrary to [conventional] reality.” This is similar to questions asked by sociologists about new religious movements. Most movements do not intentionally advocate some contrarian ideology for the express purpose of entering into conflict with society. Rather, like the artist, they offer a fresh perspective which is interpreted with hostility by the mainstream because it’s different, not immediately understood, and viewed as threatening. We can consider the Sermon on the Mount in this context. The ideals Jesus commended were not hateful in themselves — far from it! But they threatened what was then (and to some extent, still is) the established order. The order of the day remains self-interest; most individuals and nations continue to pursue it single-mindedly. Still, there has been some progress.

Henri Rousseau and Sri Chinmoy

Gary Genosko also writes: “Humour and even amateurism become anti-environmental modes for McLuhan in The Medium is the Massage. Humour and amateurism both apparently undercut the ‘official’ and therefore take the present environment, which is invisible, and suddenly make it visible…” We can use this concept to better understand painter Henri Rousseau — and via Rousseau, Sri Chinmoy.

Rousseau was neither a member of the official school, nor a true member of the avant-garde. But he was embraced by the avant-garde because his works had a slightly humorous, amateurish quality, yet were filled with freshness and originality.

Henri Rousseau, his 1897 painting Sleeping Gypsy, and a trope by The Simpsons 100 years later

Henri Rousseau, his 1897 painting Sleeping Gypsy, and a trope by The Simpsons 100 years later

Unlike the core of the avant-garde — who were rebelling against things they had learnt — Rousseau was not schooled in the official style. He was a self-taught painter who followed his own visions and inclinations. His originality does not speak of rebellion, but rather a charming naïveté. He achieves uniqueness not by rejecting something, but by being true to his inner self. As his friend and fellow painter Robert Delaunay said: “He didn’t establish his style by comparison or out of obedience to style. It came from his spirit. His art is old, and also very modern.”

The same can be said of Sri Chinmoy’s art and music. He was not schooled in any Western tradition, and is not rebelling against anything. Rather, by being uniquely himself he manages to create an experience of extraordinary power for his audience — always depending upon their receptivity and openness. (I will enlarge on this shamanic aspect in Part Three.)

In Monty Python’s Life of Brian, there’s a send-up of the Sermon on the Mount in which a bunch of quarrelsome stragglers at the fringes of the audience fail to get much beyond “Blessed are the cheesemakers!” Yet, one cannot judge the underlying value from such stragglers. To understand what an artist or spiritual teacher is saying sometimes requires preparation, study, and (of course) interest and eagerness. Sri Chinmoy writes, “A life with no imagination is a life of imprisonment. With the wings of imagination, we must try to fly into the Beyond.”

One aspect of the contemporary avant-garde is directness of expression, and a willingness to explore new techniques to achieve it. If one views videos of Sri Chinmoy improvising on piano or pipe organ, one sees that his technique is quite avant-garde, including liberal use of fists and elbows. When one opens one’s ears and one’s heart to his music, one discovers unparalleled directness of expression. The great leap for the listener is to catch a glimpse of what Sri Chinmoy is trying to express. Then one can never doubt his genius.

It is the same with his painting. By being uniquely himself and expressing a rare vision with directness, he manages to go beyond easy categories. Frances Morris — curator at the Tate Modern — says of Rousseau:

He can never be confined to any of the conventions or avant-garde structures that surround him. So, although he aspired to be an academic painter, he wasn’t an academic painter; although he was in some ways appropriated by the avant-garde, he was never really an avant-garde painter; nor can he be confined by terms like primitive, or naïve, or a Sunday painter. And therefore, he’s never been put to bed. And in a way, each generation, I think, can and has rediscovered Rousseau for themselves.

Like this, Sri Chinmoy has the potential to be discovered by successive generations. One of his aphorisms is “Simplicity is an advanced course” (shades of Picasso). He delighted in drawing his signature bird forms on ceramic plates, clocks, children’s toys, and seashells:

Sri Chinmoy: Bali 2001, seashells

Sri Chinmoy: Bali 2001, seashells

He didn’t do this to be froward or puckish, but because it brought him (and others) innocent joy. His art encourages and fosters the same type of consciousness which is also open to receiving profound spiritual teachings — not profound in the sense of “difficult to understand” (like Schopenhauer), but profound in the sense that they reflect an enlightened awareness. Paul Jenkins, interviewed about Sri Chinmoy’s art in 1975, said:

Was Monet a beginner? Was Picasso a beginner when he was about to die? The artist is always rediscovering the child. I don’t mean that he is childish, I mean he finds the child aspect. And we must remember also that Freud said that to be creative is to be prodigious. And that’s one thing that is misunderstood in the art world. Everybody feels that the fewer things you do the better you are. Not from Freud’s standpoint. To be creative means to be prodigious.

Peace Run 2016: Two Missouri schoolchildren receive a poster of a Sri Chinmoy painting for World-Harmony on behalf of their entire school. https://www.peacerun.org/us/news/2016/0516/1639/

Peace Run 2016: Two Missouri schoolchildren receive a poster of a Sri Chinmoy painting for World-Harmony on behalf of their entire school. https://www.peacerun.org/us/news/2016/0516/1639/

Sri Chinmoy’s art reflects “beginner’s mind” — a much sought-after quality which is difficult for most of us to achieve because it entails unlearning so much of what we had learned previously. When we contemplate his art we are shaping our consciousness to comprehend the sublime truths which he also expressed in poetry:

Revelation

No more my heart shall sob or grieve.
My days and nights dissolve in God’s own Light.
Above the toil of life, my soul
Is a Bird of Fire winging the Infinite.

I have known the One and His secret Play,
And passed beyond the sea of Ignorance-Dream.
In tune with Him, I sport and sing;
I own the golden Eye of the Supreme.

Drunk deep of Immortality,
I am the root and boughs of a teeming vast.
My Form I have known and realised.
The Supreme and I are one; all we outlast.

— Sri Chinmoy, from My Flute

A very happy 85th birthday to Sri Chinmoy, whose legacy continues on after his physical death.

sri-chinmoy-animated-gif2


Sidebar 1: Sayings of Sri Chinmoy and other artists

Sri Chinmoy sometimes preferred giving concerts, art exhibitions, or live demonstrations of painting to giving talks on spiritual philosophy; and I suspect this is related to the ability of art and music to bypass our ordinary, prosaic thinking and create a sacred space which gives rise to poetical perceptions.

Renaissance artists like Da Vinci and Michelangelo believed that to create a Divine work of art, they first had to transform their human minds into the Divine Mind. Then the Divine Mind would shape the clay, chip away at the stone, or place the ideal colours on the canvas to create a Divine work of art. Sri Chinmoy offers a similar theory of poetry:

“In order to write a poem, the poet must transport himself to the sphere of the Muse and lose himself there. He has to be like a flame that burns away everything but itself.”

Henri Matisse said:

“I don’t know whether I believe in God or not. I think, really, I’m some sort of Buddhist. But the essential thing is to put oneself in a frame of mind which is close to that of prayer.”

Sri Chinmoy said:

“If my paintings are beautiful, then it is because I am trying to keep my heart always beautiful. My paintings are the outer expression of my heart’s prayer-beauty.”

Sri Chinmoy, July 2006, Kamakura, Japan. Shortly before his 75th birthday, 75 of his acrylics on paper were exhibited at the Kōtoku-in Buddhist Temple. See http://www.tokyoartbeat.com/event/2006/1FB7.en

Sri Chinmoy, July 2006, Kamakura, Japan. Shortly before his 75th birthday, 75 of his acrylics on paper were exhibited at the Kōtoku-in Buddhist Temple. See http://www.tokyoartbeat.com/event/2006/1FB7.en

He grew up in an ashram setting where music-making was a natural activity in which everyone could participate according to his skill. The subtext of his free concerts is let us discover together. His heart is in the audience, for the audience; and the audience gets the most joy from opening their hearts to his many modes of musical expression — discovering along with him. He says similarly of art:

“Most of the time when I paint I get a kind of inner joy and a kind of inner discovery. When I paint, I discover something which I did not know before.”

Claude Monet says:

“Every day I discover more and more beautiful things.”

Henry Ward Beecher says:

“Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.”

Albert Einstein says:

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”

Sri Chinmoy says:

“God the Musician is divinely and eternally mysterious. Man the musician is humanly and temporarily marvellous.”

The reader may observe that I speak of Sri Chinmoy’s music, art and poetry somewhat interchangeably. I do not do so out of carelessness, but because they are intimately connected. When one enters into Sri Chinmoy’s sacred space, one finds bird forms, bird references, and bird imagery everywhere. He sometimes opened concerts by playing the dove ocarina — a flutelike instrument in the shape of a dove. His was blue ceramic.

There’s a distinction between the subject/object distance sometimes found in European art music, and the communal experience of music growing out of the Vaishnava tradition and the Indian music schools. One way of understanding the more communal view comes via the concept of “Trilok,” explained here by Brooklyn-based arts organization Trilok Fusion:

Trilok in Sanskrit means three worlds. In Indian mythology the three worlds are heaven, earth, and the world beneath the ocean. As artists we consider the three worlds to be the world of the performer, the audience, and that abstract space where the performer and the audience meet to achieve a sense of harmony.

Here again, the concept of the sacred space — which is not a static space, but an active environment where learning and growing takes place.

One imagines that when Plato taught the “Metaphor of the Cave” to students, he did not ask them to copy it by rote, but rather opened up a sacred space in which their minds might grasp the possibility of life beyond the cave.

Peace Park, Hiroshima is a sacred space. It’s also a counter-situation made by artists. Marshall McLuhan quotes early twentieth century metaphysician and curator A. K. Coomaraswamy: “We are proud of our museums where we display a way of living that we have made impossible.”

As the world is ravaged by war, peace becomes something we find in the museum. In the age of the electric, outside and inside disappear. The global community of artists and seekers dedicated to peace becomes a museum without walls. We bring Peace Park home with us, cleverly hidden somehwere near our aorta, unattested to by customs declarations. We recreate it where we are.

Someone once inquired of a Far Eastern Zen master, who had a great serenity and peace about him no matter what pressures he faced, “How do you maintain that serenity and peace?” He replied, “I never leave my place of meditation.” He meditated early in the morning and for the rest of the day, he carried the peace of those moments with him in his mind and heart.

— Stephen R. Covey, from The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

sri-chinmoy-blue-bird-august-2003


Sidebar 2: Paul Jenkins and Sri Chinmoy

Paul Jenkins and Sri Chinmoy, 1975

There are many ways of understanding Sri Chinmoy’s art, not least of which is to approach it directly, or to encounter it in its natural habitat — that is to say, the sacred space. But for those who prefer a more traditional art history approach, once can begin to understand some facets of Sri Chinmoy’s art via Paul Jenkins.

Presidential candidate Hillary Clinton recently quoted a Mexican proverb which says: “Tell me with whom you walk, and I will tell you who you are.” Those who walked with Sri Chinmoy were often fellow poets, musicians, and artists who shared an interest in meditation and Eastern philosophy.

One of these was Paul Jenkins (1923-2012), the American abstract expressionist painter, who studied with Sri Chinmoy in the 1970s, and appears in two short films about Sri Chinmoy from the period. In one, he discusses Sri Chinmoy’s painting; in the other, he talks more about Sri Chinmoy and meditation, as well as demonstrating his own style of painting at the time, which was a type of action painting (or pouring) guided by meditation.

In 1973, Jenkins created Sri Chinmoy, a silkscreen which uses a photo of the guru as its core element, to which Jenkins adds patches of super-saturated colour:

Sri Chinmoy, by Paul Jenkins (1973)

Sri Chinmoy, by Paul Jenkins (1973)

One could draw arrows (albeit disjointed arrows) from Jackson Pollock, to Paul Jenkins, to Sri Chinmoy. Yet, Pollock and Chinmoy represent polar opposites whose approach to abstract expressionism differs greatly in both philosophy and practice.

Pollock was an innovator, but also a volatile personality who struggled with alcoholism and tragically died in a car accident in 1956 at age 44. There’s a sense in which he broke painting wide open in the late 1940s and early 50s, but his style of “action painting” could be difficult to control, and by its nature did not offer an obvious route to further development. In some ways Pollock’s style was a violent reaction to conformism in the era of the gray flannel suit.

Paul Jenkins befriended Pollock and learned from him; but Jenkins was of different temperament. He gradually came to explore the connection between meditation, movement, and painting. He relished freedom and the chance meeting of paints on canvas; but unlike Pollock, Jenkins preferred to paint in smooth, flowing motions, acting from a calm, meditative center and guiding the flow of poured paint with his cherished ivory knife.

Sri Chinmoy was not explicitly an action painter, since he did not typically drip, pour or splatter paint. Yet, he often worked with tremendous speed, completing even large works in one concentrated painting session with not a single misstep or erasure. The significance of this approach is given in a quote from Helen Frankenthaler:

A really good picture looks as if it’s happened at once. It’s an immediate image. For my own work, when a picture looks labored and overworked, and you can read in it — well, she did this and then she did that, and then she did that — there is something in it that has not got to do with beautiful art to me. And I usually throw these out, though I think very often it takes ten of those over-labored efforts to produce one really beautiful wrist motion that is synchronized with your head and heart, and you have it, and therefore it looks as if it were born in a minute.

As a meditation master, Sri Chinmoy is king of the beautiful wrist motion synchronized to head and heart. This shines through in both his abstracts and his more calligraphic bird drawings. The latter were also done with great rapidity, so that what we see especially toward the end of his life are great clouds of birds or bird gestures, drawn with such fluidity and rapidity of motion that they seem ready to fly off the canvas.

Soul-Bird drawing by Sri Chinmoy, January 1, 2006 No. 5, courtesy http://daily.srichinmoyart.com/2016/03/06/bird-drawing-by-sri-chinmoy-1-1-2006-5/

Soul-Bird drawing by Sri Chinmoy, January 1, 2006 No. 5, courtesy http://daily.srichinmoyart.com/2016/03/06/bird-drawing-by-sri-chinmoy-1-1-2006-5/

Returning to the earlier referenced 1985 acrylic, we can say that on a local level Sri Chinmoy uses techniques similar to those of action painters to achieve fortuitous collisions of colour and texture, and to create a sense of driving energy and synthesis. Yet, looking at the painting as a whole, it’s not a collision or explosion, but rather reflects a calm guiding hand.

In Sri Chinmoy’s abstract expressionism we find a tremendous outpouring of emotion, but never any violence. He is not obsessed with filling the canvas to maximum density through collision, but with orchestrating local areas of chaos into a symphonic whole. There is movement but also stillness; density but also space. Comparing details of his 1985 acrylic with Paul Jenkins’s Untitled I (1983), we can see similarities in the broad gestural brushstrokes and areas of textured paint.

Two details from a Sri Chinmoy acrylic, November 19, 1985

Two details from a Sri Chinmoy acrylic, November 19, 1985

Untitled I (1983) by Paul Jenkins

Untitled I (1983), by Paul Jenkins

Western civilization has tended to progress through violent trends and counter-trends. The artist is often expected to be a rebel who explicitly sets himself in opposition to society and flouts even its most basic conventions and requirements.

Yet, in much of Asia art is understood to be a natural part of life, as is spirituality. The spiritual artist need not act out a stereotypical role as rebel. His goal is not to destroy society, but to gradually transform and enlighten it.

In recent centuries, one division in Western thought has been that between the intellectual and the spiritual. The art world is not unaffected by this division. Because Sri Chinmoy is a spiritual artist who values spontaneous expression of the heart, his work may seem less accessible to those critics for whom art is primarily an intellectual pursuit (and a secular one at that). This may contribute to the view that Sri Chinmoy is a non-mainstream artist.

But Sri Chinmoy did what artists do: He continued to devote a huge portion of his time to painting over a period of decades, produced an astounding number of works which reflect his unique vision, and gathered a community around him which is eager to see his work in galleries and contemplate its meaning. Sri Chinmoy also taught: not painting, but meditation and philosophy of art. Here Paul Jenkins explains what he takes from Sri Chinmoy:

(If the embedded video doesn’t play, view on DailyMotion here.)

The art world has its trends, such as secularism. None of the articles I’ve read about Paul Jenkins mention his studies with Sri Chinmoy or the 1973 silkscreen. But these things clearly exist, and have their own life and meaning apart from what anyone says (or fails to say) about them. The same is true of Sri Chinmoy. As a spiritual artist, he may sometimes be marginalized by segments of the secular art world, but this in no way detracts from the value of his work, of which Edith Montlack said:

As an artist, I do admire very deeply his sense of colour, the rhythm in his strokes, his lovely compositions, the sunny light that emanates from his canvases. I feel that his art has a tremendous way of inspiring and uplifting the viewer. So from that point of view I do feel that his art is extremely important in this twentieth century. And I think it will leave a very great mark in the world of art for the future.

As trends shift over the centuries, I believe Sri Chinmoy’s work will be rediscovered at a time when society has found a more beneficial balance between the secular and the spiritual. Future generations who are more keenly aware of the significance of spiritual art (and the genius of simplicity) will treasure that which some of Sri Chinmoy’s contemporaries have passed over far too quickly.

In the meantime, those who appreciate spiritual art today will continue to bask in Sri Chinmoy’s glorious achievements.

A bird painting by Sri Chinmoy from 1975

Michael Howard


Special thanks to Kedar Misani, without whose videos and photos of Sri Chinmoy’s artwork this article would not have been possible. Visit Kedar’s YouTube page here.

Profuse thanks also to Priyadarshan Bontempi, chief curator of SriChinmoyLibrary.com, which houses an extraordinary collection of Sri Chinmoy’s writings, as well as a growing number of book covers. Visit Sri Chinmoy Library and you’ll always discover something new!

* * *

Joe Kracht and Lavanya Muller (parody)


“She entered into doubt-parlor

Only to be tattooed by ignorance-ink.

He learned the jiu-jitsu of betrayal
Studying at university of no ethics.”

For further discussion, see “Paint It Black!”

(If the embedded video doesn’t play, watch on DailyMotion here.)

Explaining The Aphorisms

Sometimes aphorisms are like poetry — to get the full meaning we need to examine the language carefully in all its fine shades.

What does it mean to enter into “doubt-parlor”? Suppose you are a spiritual seeker, a person of faith. You have some friends who used to be spiritual seekers, but now their main focus is on doubt and speaking ill. You feel, “Oh, my faith is secure so of course I can mix freely with them and I will not suffer.” But doubt is like poison in the spiritual life. Just because you know it’s poison doesn’t mean you can drink it and not suffer.

You may also think, “Just because I’m not attacking anyone, therefore they won’t attack me.” But imagine you put your hand inside a snake’s cage. You may do so innocently, harmlessly, but still the nature of this snake is to bite.

In the same way, former spiritual seekers who now specialize in doubt instinctively attack the faith of any person who enters their environs. They feel your faith is an impediment to joining their social clique and want to make you faithless like them. So once you agree to go where they congregate, whether it’s a physical location or a place on the Internet, half the battle is already lost.

This battle may not take place openly, but may be more like a clandestine encounter with a pickpocket. The pickpocket embraces you warmly, but a few hours later you discover he has stolen all your money!

Never think that ignorance is not a strong force. Even one person’s ignorance may overpower your faith. How much more easily you can be overpowered when you are the only person of faith in a place where everyone else has become a black doubter. It is like one person fighting against a whole gang. (This is assuming you even bother to put up a fight. Some people go to a bad place because they secretly want to become bad people.)

So “doubt-parlor” is a place where doubters meet and congregate and advance their clever arguments. (“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.”) Now, what is “ignorance-ink”? If you have a cloth that is pure white, then if you get ink on it, it can never be made the same again. Still, there are different types of ink. Sometimes children are given finger paints which are water-soluble and wash off easily.

Ignorance is like ink because it spoils the pure-white tablet of faith so that it is smudged or dirty. Now what does it mean to be tattooed by ignorance-ink? The ink used in tattooing is extremely permanent and is etched into the skin. This comedy skit suggests that people get tattoos when they’re drunk and are then stuck with the results, unless they want to opt for laser surgery:

So to be tattooed by ignorance-ink means that ignorance puts its permanent mark on you and calls you its own, so that you are no longer fit for a spiritual purpose.

To take the meaning of the aphorism as a whole: You are invited to join in the festivities at a place where doubters congregate. You think, “Alright, I will go but I will maintain my faith.” However, once you enter into their parlor, then like others you become drunk with doubt and are tattooed by ignorance so that you cannot get rid of it. The stain is permanent, or you do not possess the means to wash it out. Will a simple spot remover remove a tattoo? No, because the ink is in too deep. That is the favor some so-called friends are doing you.

To come to the second aphorism, what is the connection between “jiu-jitsu” and “betrayal”? Here, jiu-jitsu signifies any type of tricky move or maneuver which must be learned. The heart and soul by their nature want to remain true, but the tricky mind and vital want to find a way to throw off the spiritual commitment and live a life based on ego, desire and ambition.

It is rare for a person of faith who loses their faith to simply admit “I have fallen. I have lost what I had previously attained.” First comes disobedience, then self-justification, then a guilty conscience comes. Finally, in order to escape their own guilty conscience the person will throw all the blame on their former spiritual teacher or path. For some people this develops into a kind of complex, so that even though they left their spiritual teacher 10, 20, even 35 years ago, they are still obsessed with trying to discredit him, in order to assuage their deep-down guilty conscience.

Some people even openly admit to this without truly understanding it. They say, “Oh, I have found a wonderful new way of getting rid of guilt. I joined a support group for former spiritual seekers where we spend most days and nights publicly attacking our old teacher. Hate is a wonderful antidote to guilt.”

The only problem is that this is actually a symptom of the complex. It does not truly get rid of guilt, but only masks it temporarily. Those suffering from this complex tend to need bigger and bigger fixes of hate to mask their guilt, so they end up vilifying their former teacher to a mind-boggling extent, making up the wildest stories in order to keep the hate jag going. There is no true healing in this approach because it’s all based on lies and self-justification, not honest insight.

So “the jiu-jitsu of betrayal” is any tricky method someone learns as a way to throw off their soul’s deep spiritual commitment and betray the teacher who first gave them illumination, out of sheer compassion.

Modern science is ethically neutral. It is often not concerned with net effects on people, but only whether something is do-able. If making a bomb, can they make a bigger bomb? If making a biological weapon, can they produce a more deadly strain? That is how some destructive people think. Doubt is usually “slow poison,” but some people actually become connoisseurs of doubt. They try to refine it and make it more potent, more concentrated. Modern doubters have produced more virulent strains of doubt which are quick-acting.

When people develop an ugly and impure mind or vital, they can conjure up an ugly picture of things — things which are inherently beautiful in themselves. The impure imagination becomes a kind of demonic laboratory from which new, more virulent strains of doubt are culled. One should protect one’s aspiration by not visiting places where such people congregate — whether in real life, or on the Internet.

Some psychologists are dead set against the spiritual life, so they’ve developed powerful techniques or psyops for combating faith — comprehensive, systematized methods of injecting doubt and pressuring seekers to abandon their faith. This is known as deprogramming or exit counseling, but like tattooing or ear-piercing it’s practiced by amateurs as well as professionals. (See “Sock Puppet Theatre – A Tribute to Samuel Bradshaw.”)

Some anti-cult groups morph or change their tactics over time, renaming themselves and eventually coming to use a soft-sell rather than hard-sell approach. See Part 2 and Part 3 of my series on “The ACLU and Religious Freedom,” as well as “Doubt, Faith, and the Ethics of Apostasy.” People don’t know the history of these groups and don’t recognize the techniques being used to rob them of their faith — professional deprogramming techniques like employing apostates to circulate false “testimonials” vilifying the spiritual teacher or path.

If you look carefully, you’ll see that such euphemistically named “support groups” often have hard-core members who’ve undergone formal deprogramming, exit counseling, or anti-cult therapy, e.g. Samuel Bradshaw, Anne Carlton, et al. These people are then encouraged to practice the same techniques on others, sometimes in an informal setting where they conceal or deny their affiliation with anti-cult groups.

How does the soft-sell differ from the hard-sell? The hard-sell is all poison, poison, poison. The soft-sell is: “People are not drinking the poison because it is too bitter. Let us set up a fake spiritual site, something to do with yoga, with spiritual quotes and artwork. Then, once we sucker people in, let us give them just enough poison to kill them. Initially they won’t know that we are all apostates, so they will stupidly drink the poison if we sweeten it a little.”

sri-chinmoy-yoga

Look to the methods, not the labels. Some sites may put up a spiritual veneer, but are actually ex-members groups where the main thrust is to get people to read highly negative material, and respond by abandoning their faith.

Like wife-beaters, some people are deeply troubled in their nature. They may claim they love their former spiritual master, but they torture him regularly. Stop the torture and I will believe that you love him. Otherwise, I will say you are a sick individual.

Each person is different. It may happen that a spiritual master advises a student: “Stay close to the spiritual community. Don’t go for a law degree or it will totally ruin your spiritual life.” The student disobeys, and lo and behold! Now that he’s a lawyer, instead of showing devotion to the spiritual master, he only wants to subject the master (now long-dead) to mock show trials on the Internet! Such displays of vigilantism are worthy of disbarment. Still:

Joe Kracht Lawton Law Firm Parody 1

Joe Kracht Lawton Law Firm Parody 1

Continuing on with my analysis, what is “university of no ethics”? To learn a systematized method of doing something, you go to a school which teaches that very thing. Universities originally emerged from a monastic tradition in which faith and ethics played a most significant role. Gradually over centuries, a “great divorce” occurred between religion, science, and the humanities. Today, it’s possible to receive a university degree without knowing anything about spirituality or ethics. Some former spiritual seekers will even go to the length of getting a degree in psychology which they then use to attack spirituality. (Of course, spirituality and psychology can get along well together. Here I’m only referring to a fringe group of psychologists who actively oppose spiritual practice, just as there’s a fringe group of psychologists who participate in military torture.)

As I discuss in “Paint It Black!” apostates often trash-talk their former friends, colleagues and mentors in a shameful and two-faced manner. They may learn such behavior through participation in institutions which impart secular knowledge divorced from ethics and spirituality. They have been processed by a college or university, or by the military, or by a school which emphasizes physical conditioning and self-defense, but teaches next to nothing about loyalty or ethics. This conspicuous spiritual vacuum makes it easy for people to engage in wanton acts of betrayal. They may be experts in their limited fields, but in the field of life they are nowhere because they’ve sacrificed the core values which imbue life with spiritual meaning. This is what it means to learn “the jiu-jitsu of betrayal/ studying at university of no ethics.”

Such faithless persons of no ethics often end up coaching others in the ways of betrayal, helping them achieve the “full Judas position” — a position of utter treachery. Sadly, such coaches may fail to provide the requisite thirty pieces of silver, or the noose to hang oneself when conscience dawns.

Attorney Joe Kracht drilling a new deprogrammee

Attorney Joe Kracht drilling a new deprogrammee (artist’s conception)

Michael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization.

Items which may interest you:

Sarama — The Hound of Intuition
Self-Interest, Self-Giving, Low Ethics, and High Ethics

* * *

Paint It Black!

The Poetry of Sri Chinmoy… and Mick Jagger? Plus other topics.

My Krishna is not black,
He is pure gold.
He Himself is woven
Into the universal Beauty, Light and Splendour.

He looks dark
Because I have spilled the ink
Of my mind on Him.
Otherwise, my Beloved is All-Light.

He created Light and Darkness,
He is within and without the Cosmos Vast.

With this knowledge,
I will have a new acquaintance
With the world at large.

— Sri Chinmoy, from My Flute, Aum Classics, 1998 (1972)

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors any more, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby, it just happens every day

I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door I must have it painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

I want to see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I want to see the sun blotted out from the sky
I want to see it painted, painted, painted, painted black, yeah

— Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, from Aftermath, Decca Records, 1966

The shared element in these two poems is not seeing things as they are, but according to one’s inner predilection. A thing is bright and golden, but we spill “the ink of our mind” on it, so subjectively it looks all black. Or a thing has bright colours like red and green, but we want to blot out those colours due to our depressed or fallen state.

In the physical universe, some things can be quantified precisely and objectively, but when it is a question of the spiritual meaning of life, this is something we always interpret subjectively. Militant atheists like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens are merely reporting on the condition of their own minds. Brilliant thinkers, they nonetheless lack basic spiritual intelligence.

What is spiritual intelligence? This would be the subject for a whole other article. Simply put, spiritual intelligence is intelligence which is aware of the existence of God or of higher spiritual Truth. This higher awareness brings insight and understanding (or gnosis), so that we begin to see the universe as it truly is, not according to our limited mental constructs. Spiritual intelligence is intelligence which has received some illumination from higher light and wisdom, so that it no longer lives alone in a dark room, seeing only its own self-produced shadows. Spiritual intelligence is intelligence from which the “ink of the mind” has been dispelled in whole or in part, so that the universe may be seen in all its true, glowing colours.

There is, of course, the negative approach epitomized in modern times by the song “Nothing,” written by Tuli Kupferberg of the Fugs, and perhaps representing the path of the ascetic wanderer who finds meaning by denying everything. But this path is difficult to follow, and there is no guarantee that it leads to enlightenment. Indeed, having denied meaning in anything, the nihilist may simply stew in his own negativity, now desiring to paint everything black to match his own philosophy, his own self-produced experience of nothingness: “Monday, nothing / Tuesday, nothing / Wednesday and Thursday nothing / Friday, for a change / a little more nothing / Saturday once more nothing.” (The Fugs song is actually based on an old Yiddish song about a steady diet of potatoes!)

There is a kind of nihilism which recognizes the relative meaninglessness of the things the world tries to persuade us to take with utter seriousness. But this nihilism is not a complete philosophy or path. In rejecting that which is (relatively speaking) meaningless, we also need to look to that absolute reality which gave birth to our limited world-reality. Here are two poems by Sri Chinmoy which help illustrate how these two concepts fit together:

1.
O bird of my heart,
Fly on, fly on.
Look not behind.
Whatever the world gives
Is meaningless, useless
And utterly false.

2.
O beautiful One, O blissful One,
Do enter into my heart’s cry,
Do enter into my thought-life,
Do enter into my purity-dawn,
Do enter into my sublimity-eve.
With new form’s light,
Do constantly enter into my heart.

I do not combine these two poems haphazardly. They are songs composed by Sri Chinmoy, often sung by him or performed on the flute, esraj and other instruments. He often performed these two songs together as a medley, or in the form 1-2-1, as if to underscore their connectedness:

Taken together, they point to a complete philosophy in which the meaninglessness of the world is balanced by a burgeoning awareness of the “blissful One” who exists beyond our limited world-reality, yet also within in it (though unseen).

In another poem, Sri Chinmoy contrasts “a dry, sterile, intellectual breeze” with “the weaving visions of the emerald Beyond.” Here’s the poem (which also spawned a Mahavishnu Orchestra album title), plus explication by Dr. Vidagdha Meredith Bennett:

Visions of the Emerald Beyond

No more am I the foolish customer
Of a dry, sterile, intellectual breeze.
I shall buy only
The weaving visions of the emerald Beyond.
My heart-tapestry
Shall capture the Himalayan Smiles
Of my Pilot Supreme.
In the burial of my sunken mind
Is the revival of my climbing heart.
In the burial of my deceased mind
Is the festival of my all-embracing life.

— Sri Chinmoy, from The Dance Of Life, Part 1, Agni Press, 1973

Dr. Bennett writes:

This poem mirrors the more traditional experience-into-cognition arrangement in which a fictive, personal situation is transformed into a general concept and we come to see it as an instance of a universal truth. In “Visions of the Emerald Beyond,” the poet begins in a confessional mode. He portrays his dissatisfaction with the life of the mind and asserts his unwillingness to remain any longer a “customer” of its barren harvest. We seem to savour something of T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” in the dryness and flatness of this picture, the “sterile, intellectual breeze” corresponding to their ineffectual voices:

“We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass…”

We recognise the same pervading numbness at the core of a purely mental existence. It is an option the poet no longer chooses:

“I shall buy only
The weaving visions of the emerald Beyond.”

This line explodes with colour, life, movement and depth — all that is in direct opposition to the preceding portrait. In contrast to the shifting and colourless “intellectual breeze,” Sri Chinmoy presents the rich enamelled colour of vision. Emerald. The incandescent green of creation itself, woven into wholeness by the heart, Sri Chinmoy’s preferred nexus of action. And in that fulness of heart, he hopes to win God’s “Smile” of satisfaction.

From this new recourse of action, the poet condenses a set of principles that are appended to the poem in the manner of a coda. In them he sets down the conditions upon which his new life of the heart shall be founded. They revolve around the “burial” of his mind which, he intimates, is already long since lifeless. From this burial shall rise the dancing, abundant life of the heart.

— Vidagdha Meredith Bennett, from Simplicity and Power: The Poetry of Sri Chinmoy 1971-1981 (Doctoral Thesis, University of Melbourne, 1981. Published by Aum Publications, New York, 1991.)

I plan to use this discussion of subjective perceptions of reality as a building block toward understanding other phenomena, such as apostasy. To preview the argument: The apostate can no longer see the spiritual reality, and therefore publicly professes that his/her past spiritual experiences were all false, or that he/she was “fooled” into believing in a spiritual reality which he/she now thoroughly rejects. This rejection of the spiritual may be accompanied by a foolish preoccupation with things extolled in pop culture, like romance and dating, tattoos, and ballroom dancing. 😉

dating-tattoos-ballroom-dancingThe struggle between faith and doubt, between spirituality and secular materialism, is one of the enduring struggles of the last two centuries. People stumping for secular materialism often collate the so-called “testimonials” of apostates as if these prove that there is no God, and that spiritual claims are pure bunkum. Yet, such testimonials merely reflect the unillumined or benighted state of those writing them, those who have spilled “the ink of the mind” on what remains a vivid and true spiritual reality. Like Eliot’s hollow men, in the cosmic scheme of things such testimonial writers are thoroughly stuffed.

Nandita Pollisar on the ink of the mind

Just as there exist apostate testimonials attempting to undermine virtually every faith (even faith in the Flying Spaghetti Monster or “FSM”), some people also write testimonials reaffirming their faith. Nandita Polissar writes:

Safe – free from harm, injury or risk. “Safe” comes from the Latin word “salvus” meaning whole or healthy.

Sri Chinmoy’s path encompasses all of these meanings for women or men. It is an environment free of harm, harassment or risk. It is a whole and healthy environment.

I became a student of Sri Chinmoy over 30 years ago. Having had positive experiences with other spiritual paths (Catholicism, Judaism, Transcendental Meditation and Theravada Buddhism), my first reaction was that Sri Chinmoy did not “need” anything from me. He did not need me to add to his numbers of followers. He did not need my admiration or my flattery. He did not need my money. This impression has remained and has been reinforced in a million ways. Here was not an ego that required feeding in any way. I felt trust and faith — and to add the word used in your query: “safe.” I have never seen that trust, faith and safety compromised in any way by this pure, innocent and loving consciousness that I gratefully call my spiritual teacher. Nor have I ever seen it broken with others. The Sri Chinmoy Centre has been a uniquely safe place for me as a woman, for my husband and for my children.

I have seen others break faith with their own spirituality. I have seen others veer in other directions. I have seen others drift away. I have seen others “take a break” for a while and return. I have seen others find something that worked better for them. But, I have never seen Sri Chinmoy break trust with anyone whether they were his student or not. There is real spirituality in this world, and Sri Chinmoy is one of its representatives. Yes, people throw the “ink of their mind” on it, but that does not diminish it in any way.

As for the many ways that Sri Chinmoy has encouraged and “empowered” women, my sisters have replied much more eloquently. I am grateful for your query.

— Nandita Polissar from “Question For The Women” (discussion thread)

Hateful stereotypes of Indian gurus

When Swami Vivekananda first graced America’s shores in 1893, attending the World’s Parliament of Religions in Chicago, he received a warm welcome and was heralded in the press as a great orator and a genuine representative of a noble tradition. Yet, with the establishment of Vedanta societies in America and an increase in Indian immigration, there was soon a nativist backlash. In 1911, the Boston Herald published a particularly blistering attack on Indian yoga as something heathen, superstitious, and profane.

Over a hundred years later, as more and more Americans practice one form of yoga or another, the level of invective has died down. Yet, hateful stereotypes which originated at the turn of the twentieth century may still be recycled in the twenty-first. There are tabloid media which pander to ignorant views of Indian gurus in order to attract a low information audience, drawing them like flies to a road apple. (See this article discussing PIX11 News.)

Apostates are often a fertile source for such ignorant views, since they tend to turn every circle counter-clockwise in an effort to establish that they’re no longer minority religionists, but rather average citizens who now share the same prejudices as the worst of their fellows. By portraying their former faith group hatefully, apostates hope to prove their newfound loyalty to mainstream secular values and thus avoid being targeted themselves — something like victims of bullying who join with the bullies as a craven coping strategy, or in order to become popular.

Since the world has little sympathy for failed spiritual seekers, such folk often pretend to be victims who wandered into the wrong conference room by accident. Suddenly a big brainwashing machine came down on their heads, and they spent the next 20 years praying and meditating. It was all a big misunderstanding! 😉

Due to extreme secularization in Western society, spiritual seekers are often said to have acquired a “spoiled identity.” Because they’re doing something different from the mainstream (perhaps less materialistic), they may be subject to shaming and harassment. In order to compensate, the apostate ratifies his/her affiliation with a new secular peer group through exaggerated criticism of the spiritual group left behind. This may take the form of a “confession” to friends, family, or an Internet audience that the speaker was once a “cult victim” who experienced horrible abuses, but has now seen the light of critical thinking and become a true believer in baseball, apple pie, and motherhood. This then symbolically purges the former “cult” member’s reputation in the secular world.

Such public purgative activities involving confessions or anti-cult testimonials are known collectively to scholars as rituals of denunciation. The accounts produced are not viewed as highly credible owing to the underlying pressures.

Among formally or informally constituted anti-cult groups, the approved method for performing a radical guru-ectomy is to go on the Internet and post a “testimonial” recanting one’s faith in the most dramatic of terms. But only a handful of (very foolish) former spiritual seekers engage in such cheap theatrics, which tend to be detrimental to one’s mental balance and personal integrity. As I discuss in “The ACLU and Religious Freedom, Part 2”:

When someone studies with a spiritual teacher, the teacher becomes an important part of her life. Even if she ends her studies, her former teacher will usually be someone with whom she needs to live on comfortable terms. A healthy narrative truth emerging in therapy is one which doesn’t attempt to demonize the former teacher or alienate the former student. When therapists violate these principles, this may be seen as abusive, just as inducing Parental Alienation Syndrome is considered a form of parental abuse.

One of the universally recognized symptoms of PAS is lack of ambivalence. Quite simply, the parent from whom the child has been alienated is seen as completely bad and evil. Lack of ambivalence is unnatural behaviour in human beings. Rarely can someone of basic intelligence, maturity and emotional stability support the notion that one person is completely bad.

Yet, when people receive anti-cult counseling or participate in ex-cult support groups, they tend to undergo a pathological inversion of views. They are systematically alienated from their former spiritual teacher, to the point where they depict him/her as thoroughly bad and inhumanly evil. This may be described as Guru Alienation Syndrome, or GAS.

The reason such systematic alienation should be considered a form of abuse is that it effectively robs the former student of all the benefits of having a spiritual teacher, including the ability to interact positively with that teacher, and to enjoy loving memories of that teacher. Unambivalent hatred of the spiritual teacher doesn’t just harm the hated teacher, but also the former student.

While not everyone seeks out a spiritual teacher, for those who do — and who have studied for 5, 10 or 20 years with that teacher — there is an existing relationship which typically has many positive aspects and serves an important purpose in the student’s life. The loss of that relationship is a grievous loss. A wise and compassionate therapist, counselor, or friend will therefore not attempt to destroy that relationship by circulating hate material vilifying the teacher.

In simple spiritual terms, if the human in you comes to hate that which your soul loves, then naturally you will feel at war with yourself and everything will seem to go wrong. Deep down you may feel guilty, but in order to mask that guilt you may demonize the person towards whom you feel guilty, leading to a kind of complex. This is the apostate version of “paint it black.”

An unexpected drawback for those who fall into the Judas trap is this: The world may claim that it will love you if only you will recant your faith. But actually, the people most worth knowing (and the people who might want to hire you or enter into a relationship with you) tend to value loyalty, constancy, and consistency. So going on the Internet and trash-talking your former friends and colleagues actually results in your identity being twice spoiled: You were once disliked because you were a spiritual seeker. You are now disliked because you’re a two-faced sh-t. Better to be disliked for a noble reason than a shameful one.

Joe Kracht, the Lawton law firm's "Burning Man"

Attorney Joe Kracht burning his spiritual name to try and prove how “normal” he’s become. Paradoxically, it proves just the opposite. Normal people don’t go on the Internet and burn spiritual icons. Something troubling is happening here…

To summarize: In an acquisitive society obsessed with production, consumption and procreation, spiritual intelligence is not valued, and indeed may be ridiculed or disdained. But spiritual intelligence will sustain us in this life, the next life, and future lives. Spiritual intelligence tells us that to be true is more important than to be popular, and that for a person of refined sensibilities, what is normal is to lead a spiritual life filled with meaning, not a statistically average life followed by a statistically average death.

Spiritual intelligence tells us that life does not end with our earthly sojourn. In the same family, it may happen that the mother is very spiritual but the daughter is less so. As long as the mother stays on earth, the daughter feels that there are some things she simply will not do because it would hurt and disgrace her mother deeply. But once her mother dies, then the daughter feels, “Out of sight, out of mind. Now I can act in any way I want!” But spiritual intelligence tells us that the mother is still looking down from Heaven, trying to inspire and guide her daughter. If the daughter acts badly, the mother will suffer.

Sri Chinmoy’s education

One apostate has erroneously referred to Sri Chinmoy as a “self-educated man from a third-world country.” In truth, Sri Chinmoy was educated at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram School in Pondicherry, where he studied Bengali literature, English literature, philosophy, and was also a champion sprinter. Pondicherry is a cosmopolitan city which was still a French colony for the first eleven years that Sri Chinmoy resided there and retains its international flavour to this day.

Sri Chinmoy was extremely fluent in English, having read, written, spoken, and studied that language since his ashram days (1943-1964). In his mid-twenties, he became secretary to noted savant Nolini Kanta Gupta, and translated many of the latter’s articles from Bengali to English, as well as publishing articles of his own. Sri Chinmoy’s longest play, The Descent of the Blue, recounts important incidents in the life of Sri Aurobindo, and was first published serially in Mother India: A Monthly Review of Culture between 1958 and 1962. According to Anurag Banerjee of the Overman Foundation, “The editor, K.D. Sethna, wrote in a review: ‘Chinmoy succeeds time and again in transmuting his facts into revealing truths with the help of an alert imagination.'”

After coming to America in 1964, Sri Chinmoy soon embarked upon a vigorous schedule of writing, teaching, and lecturing. His 1969 Harvard lecture on “The Vedanta Philosophy” was later published by the Philosophical Society of England in its journal, The Philosopher, Vol. 21.

His poems won awards in American literary journals, and in 1995 he received the University of Washington’s World Peace Literature Award. In 2001 he was invited to participate in “Dialogue Through Poetry,” a consortium of poets, writers, organizers, and UN officials committed to building a culture of peace through poetry, culminating in a reading at UN headquarters which also featured Joyce Carol Oates and James Ragan. The libraries of Harvard Divinity School and Brown University house collections of Sri Chinmoy’s early writings, as does the Graduate Theological Union Library/Media Center of the Pacific School of Religion.

Consistent with the concept of spiritual intelligence, Sri Chinmoy’s works embody not just knowledge, but insight. See, for example, this talk on “Appreciation of Emily Dickinson” which he gave at the United Nations in December 1975, marking the 145th anniversary of Miss Dickinson’s birth.

So where we see a bored, neurotic housewife (flanked by male sycophants) go on the Internet and claim that Sri Chinmoy was a “self-educated man from a third-world country,” we need to both recognize the dog whistle (which appeals to shopworn stereotypes), and realize that the speaker is talking out her backside.

Lavanya Muller, whose present-day ignorance is dwarfed only by that of Joe Kracht

An amusing incident from the 1970s relays the depth of Sri Chinmoy’s knowledge and wit, and the surprise shown by some American disciples at his studied familiarity with Western literature. After reading the following story by Sri Chinmoy published in 1974, one Western disciple remarked: “How does Guru know about Shylock and Portia?”

The telephone blesses the Master

There was once a very great spiritual Master who had many disciples of all ages. Unfortunately, all of the disciples had problems, and the Master used to spend a lot of time talking on the telephone. This Master did not sleep very much. In the small hours of the morning, when his disciples were all home in bed, he used to meditate on them and on the Earth consciousness.

At midnight one night, the Master’s telephone rang. He picked up the phone and heard an elderly lady saying, “Mary, Mary, how many times did I tell you not to marry that guy?” Then she hung up.

The Master knew it was a wrong number, but he felt sorry that this woman’s daughter had made a bad marriage. So the spiritual Master prayed, “O Mother of the Saviour, do take care of Your namesake and protect Your sacred name.”

At three o’clock that morning the Master’s telephone rang again. This time the caller was a middle-aged man. “Why don’t you die at this very moment so that I can have my children back?” he shouted at the Master. “Why don’t you have children of your own and play with them? Why do you have to play with my children?” Then he hung up.

The Master used his occult power to find out who the man was, and the next day he told the man’s children to go back to their father.

The children said to the Master, “Master, we shall go back to our parents, although we have done nothing wrong to you. It is our parents who have insulted you. But since you have asked us to go back to them, we shall go. And we shall forgive your injustice. But we shall not forget the love and compassion which you have shown us on so many occasions.”

That night, the Master got a phone call at four o’clock. A young girl said to him, “Did God tell you that you have realised Him, or is it your own imagination that says so?”

The Master said to the girl, “God didn’t tell me of His own accord, but I forced Him to say that I have realised Him and that it is not my imagination. It is my declaration through God’s lips that I have realised God.”

At five o’clock in the morning the telephone rang again. A young man’s voice said, “Why do you think of yourself as God? What is wrong with you?”

The Master used his occult power and saw that the youth was a hippie and a drug addict. Then he answered, “Nothing is wrong with me. I don’t consider myself God; I consider myself God’s lion and God’s dog. When I stand before a person like you, I feel that I am God’s roaring lion. When I stand in front of my devoted disciples, I feel that I am God’s faithful dog.”

At six o’clock the Master got another call. This time it was from a young, arrogant disciple of his, who said to the Master, “What right have you to talk about marriage? My wife and I got married long before we came to your path. You have no right to break up a happy marriage.”

The Master replied, “True, I have no right to break up a happy marriage, but I have every right to break up your loveless, heartless, baleful and baneful marriage. For that is what your souls want, and that is what God wants.” Then he hung up on the disciple.

The telephone disturbed him again at seven o’clock. A young girl disciple said to him, “Master, please do me a favour. I really want to marry Roger. I desperately need him. Please tell him to marry me.”

The Master said, “Have you asked Roger whether he needs you desperately, as well?”

“I asked him,” the young girl replied, “but he said that the one he needs desperately is you, and not me. What am I going to do?”

“My child, please be just,” the Master said. “Since he needs me desperately, and I also need him, please allow me to have him. Since we want each other, we deserve to get each other. And if you want to please him, then try to please me. For that will please him most.”

At eight o’clock the telephone rang again. An elderly lady said to the Master, “How dare you ask my daughter to marry a Jew! We are all staunch Catholics. You are simply throwing my daughter to the dogs! It is like asking me to give a pound of flesh right from my chest! You are the Shylock of the twentieth century!”

The Master replied, “True, I am the Shylock of the twentieth century, but where is the Portia of the twentieth century to save you?”

At nine o’clock the Master got another call. An elderly man said, “You unthinkable, incredible impostor! How dare you ask my son to marry a Christian girl? I tell you, even your Jesus Christ would not approve of this match. For my sake, for Christ’s sake, stop this marriage! If you don’t, you will definitely go to hell!”

The Master said, “I am so happy to hear that you are ready to send me to hell. I wish to go there immediately, for the place I am living in now is infinitely worse than hell!”

At ten o’clock the telephone rang again. This time the Master did not answer it. When it stopped ringing, he immediately called the telephone company and asked them to remove the telephone from his house.

— Sri Chinmoy, from The Ascent and the Descent of the Disciples, Agni Press, 1974

Like the characters in Sri Chinmoy’s story, people who post apostate testimonials on the Internet may strike us as ignorant, petty, and self-obsessed — unable to see beyond their own narrow interests. Those who abandoned their spiritual practice 15 or 20 years ago can easily descend into a condition of knownothingness, while those like the scholars quoted here, who devote their lives to spiritual study, continue to cultivate spiritual intelligence and are able to explicate spiritual texts.

As I discuss in “Doubt, Faith, and the Ethics of Apostasy,” it’s important to ride the ups and downs of life and not allow your nature to turn hostile toward the spiritual teacher and spiritual path. Otherwise, you can quickly lose or negate all the good karma you had built up through spiritual effort. Your life can easily degenerate into something mean and small.

In your fallen state, you may want to see everything painted “black as night, black as coal,” and “want to see the sun blotted out from the sky.” But these things will never happen. Only, like the blind man you will not be able to enjoy the light and colours which are all around you, which others are enjoying due to their soulful acceptance of the spiritual reality.

sri-chinmoy-world-harmony-6In the inevitable movement of society toward higher consciousness, apostate testimonials which deny the spiritual reality are like mere footnotes to God’s voluminous autobiography, which He writes on the tablet of human history. See also You by Sri Chinmoy, a series of guided meditations which uncover the hidden relationship between the individual soul and the Universal Soul.

The truth of life is not black, but golden. With this knowledge, we can have a new acquaintance with the world at large. By appreciating the spiritual reality, we join in the festival of an all-embracing life. We enjoy the rich enamelled colour of vision, the dancing abundant life of the heart.

sri-chinmoy-yogaMichael Howard

The views expressed are my own, and do not represent any other person or organization. Texts/media are quoted for purposes of education and criticism in keeping with principles of fair use in creating a transformative work.

As always, quoted material does not imply agreement by the quoted sources with this article or with anything else found on my blog.

This post is a work of independent research by the author, reflecting the author’s personal beliefs and opinions. No third party sources were personally consulted prior to publication. For further information, see “Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Scholarly Research in Communication.”


Book Cover Project

Here are the book covers for this post, mostly from SriChinmoyLibrary.com:

sri-chinmoy-my-flute-1

sri-chinmoy-supreme-teach-me-how-to-cry

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Sarama – The Hound of Intuition

Tribute to Sarama Minoli

Sarama was one of Sri Chinmoy’s earliest disciples. She joined Sri Chinmoy Centre (then called AUM Centre) in 1967, and chronicled the early years of Sri Chinmoy’s mission with her peerless photographic skills. Here’s one of her photos which was later used for the book Brother Jesus, published in 1975:

sr-chinmoy-meditation-16-by-sarama-3cSarama describes coming to Sri Chinmoy’s path in her own words this way:

Considering that I entered this world as a fourth generation atheist, who would have predicted a future in the spiritual life for me? I certainly wasn’t given any training in spirituality as a child. But the concept of infinity always fascinated me as it eluded me. I spent summers at my grandmother’s house in the New Jersey countryside, where I slept on a porch that was all windows on three sides. I would lie there looking up at the night sky, where the Milky Way and millions of stars were visible (you could see all of that clearly when I was a kid!), and I would imagine more space behind the stars and the Milky Way, and more space behind that space, and more space behind that space, and more space – and more space – until, my head spinning, I fell asleep.

As a young adult, I came across the writings of Edgar Casey, Yogi Ramacharaka, and that wonderful classic, Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. My fascination with yoga, vegetarianism and spirituality was growing. After a two-week vacation at a yoga camp, my fate was sealed. On my return home, Yoga of Westchester, my yoga studio, was born.

One day during the following summer, I had a visit from an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in a number of years: a violinist named Sol Montlack. We were having a chat when I recalled that he had been with a spiritual group. Nearly a year of involvement with yoga had intensified my new interest in spirituality. I asked him about the group, and his answer was that he was no longer with that group or any of the many others he had tried.

He said, “I have found a Guru who is everything I have been looking for.” I asked the Guru’s name, and Sol said, “Chinmoy.” For clarity, he pronounced it as if it were two words. “Chin Moy?” I said. “That sounds Chinese,” while the thought ran through my mind quickly that I would meet his Guru and that he would be my Guru as well.

Read more of Sarama’s story on the Sri Chinmoy Centre site here.

Sarama went on to become one of Sri Chinmoy’s closest disciples — with him for forty years during his lifetime, and continuing her journey with Sri Chinmoy Centre until 2013, when she finally departed this world. July 2016 marks the three-year anniversary of her passing.

She was known for her deep spirituality and her adamantine belief in the life of the soul. In the book His Compassion Is Everything To Us, Sri Chinmoy recounts one particularly striking incident concerning Sarama:

This time I meditated only on compassion, bringing down compassion. Here quite a few disciples — about twenty — have received abundant compassion. Somebody has received the most, although she is not here physically, and that is Sarama.

At one point I was looking just at the front of the room, where the disciples are not supposed to sit, and Sarama’s soul was there. I said to Sarama, “What are you doing? Why are you sitting in the ‘forbidden area’?” In a joking manner I said it.

She said, “I am not the body; I am the soul.”

I said to her, “Where is the difference, good girl, between the body and the soul? For me there is no difference between the body and the soul, the substance and the essence.”

Sometimes when I see the body, inside the body I immediately see the soul’s entire divinity; and sometimes when I see the soul, I see inside the soul the qualities and capacities of the body. There is no difference between the body and the soul.

This was Sarama’s message: “I have come here to swim in the heart-sea of your compassion.”

I said, “Swim as long as you want to; swim to your heart’s content. I will let you swim inside the heart-sea of my compassion.”

This was Sarama’s soul.

Nineteen other disciples have received compassion in profuse measure, but her soul has definitely received more than anybody else. When we meditate, the soul of somebody who is not physically present can come and receive. It happens; it has happened many, many times. I am very grateful and very proud of Sarama’s achievement.

Read more about this incident on Sri Chinmoy Library here.

To worldly people, the life of the soul is sheer imagination if not hallucination. For them, life is measured only in earthly years and the physical body. Then it is “out of sight, out of mind.” But Sarama was known for her intuition, which came from a higher plane. Intuition is deeply connected with spiritual intelligence, but that is the subject for another article!

Still, to those who have cultivated spiritual intelligence it’s not surprising that the essence of all a person was and is continues after death. If the person was a spiritual soul, then they look down from Heaven to see what their loved ones are doing, and try to inspire them to lead a higher life. We may no longer see them with our human eyes, but we may experience them powerfully in dreams, where they come to us to give us the inner message on how we can make progress.

Trivia

A little-known fact you won’t find elsewhere on the Internet is that for a time Sarama ran a thrift shop called I Need This Store. (This was in addition to her yoga studio.)

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Sri Chinmoy – In Search of a Perfect Disciple

In this fascinating story from the bhakti yoga tradition, Sri Chinmoy (1931-2007) sheds light on the master/disciple relationship.

Source: Sri Chinmoy Library

He has nobody but me

A very great spiritual Master had hundreds of sincere disciples, as well as admirers, followers, and well-wishers. Some of his disciples cherished a peculiar idea. They thought, “We will not accept anything from the Master; we shall only give everything to him.” The Master told them many times that this idea was wrong. He said that he would give them what he had, and they would give him what they had.

But his disciples didn’t listen to him. They thought that the Master would be pleased with them only if they gave him everything they had, without expecting or even accepting anything from him. To take money or any material help from him was impossible for them. In every way they wanted to feel that they would only give to the Master. They thought that they could not take even a smile from him.

Some of the Master’s disciples lived very far away from him. They had all kinds of problems with the people they depended on, especially with members of their own families. The Master used to ask them, “Why are you suffering so much? Why do you have to depend on your friends and the members of your family for help? You want to depend on others’ appreciation and admiration. You want to depend on others’ help, financial and otherwise. But you don’t want to depend on me for anything. You came into the spiritual life to be dependent on what, on whom?”

Their immediate answer would be, “To depend on the Master — on God.” But in their day-to-day activities they always wanted the Master to depend on them in every way, and they did not want to be dependent on him at all. For everything the Master needed, they expected him to call on them for help, but they did not give their Master the joy of having them depend on him. This way it went on for many years.

One day the Master had to scold his disciples. He said, “If you feel that it is impossible for you to accept help from your Master in the physical world, then how do you expect spiritual help from him?”

The disciples said, “Well, peace, light, and power — these things we can expect from you, Master. But other help, material help, help in the physical world, we cannot expect.”

“Then why should I take help from you?” the Master asked. “Why should I be indebted to you? You give me money, you bring me fruits, you offer me a few earthly objects. Do you not feel that in this way you are consciously or unconsciously, directly or indirectly, binding me? If you feel that by giving you my earthly assistance and concern I am binding you, then I can also say that you people are binding me with your material help. But this is totally wrong. What I have to give, I will give. What you have to give, you will give.”

Still they didn’t listen to him. One day the Master invited thirteen of his most dedicated, devoted disciples, and said to them, “I will now tell you something most private and important.”

The disciples were delighted that their Master had something to tell them. Then he started pointing them out, one by one, and appreciating all their good qualities. “You are so nice, so kind, so divine. That is why you have so many friends, so many admirers. The whole world will one day appreciate you because you are so divine. The whole world wants you and needs you.” In this way he appreciated twelve of the disciples, saying that they were very great in every way. He told them that they had wonderful magnanimous hearts, and that their souls were extremely developed. All kinds of appreciation he offered to twelve of his disciples. The disciples were bloated with pride.

But the Master did not at all appreciate the thirteenth one. This disciple said inwardly, “I am sure that there is a reason why the Master is not saying anything about me. I know that if he ignores me deliberately, it is all for my good. My Master would never consciously try to hurt me.”

Finally the Master said to the twelve disciples, “There are hundreds of people on earth to appreciate you, and whose appreciation you will be happy to hear. Now I wish to say that this thirteenth disciple of mine has nobody but me. He knows this truth; he feels this truth; he lives this truth.

“You people have the world; you have lots of things. Today if I leave you, you will continue your life, because you have many helpers, many admirers, and many flatterers. With their help, appreciation, and admiration you will be able to live on earth. But this disciple has nobody but me. If I die, then he is dead all at once. Now, according to me, the one who is entirely dependent on the Master is by far the best. He also has many good qualities, but one good quality surpasses all his other good qualities. He feels that I am his own, his only, and that for everything he has to be dependent on me alone. You have many, and many have you. But he cares for and needs nobody but me. That is why he is my very own. Without me he is helpless and hopeless in every way. You people are not helpless without me. You can go on with your lives without me, but he can’t. His whole consciousness is focused only on me. Without me he does not exist.

“If a disciple depends entirely on the Master for everything on earth and in heaven, then the Master claims that disciple as his very own. Others may get peace, light, and bliss through their own meditation, their own spiritual life. They may be admired, appreciated, and even adored by many people. But they won’t be able to have the deepest intimacy with the Master. This kind of disciple who has nothing and nobody, on earth or in heaven, but his Master, is really the peerless jewel in the Master’s heart. He constantly aspires — aspires in every way — only to depend on the Master’s smile, the Master’s grace, the Master’s concern, the Master’s compassion. He can never be useless and lazy. Far from it. When one aspires constantly with a burning inner flame, one will grow into ceaseless love, dedication, devotion, and surrender. Then he will feel that he is getting everything from the Master: physical help, vital help, mental help, and spiritual help. If a disciple is blessed with that kind of awareness, then the Master can be truly pleased with him. The Master feels, ‘He needs me at every step. He is doing his best, aspiring. What more can I expect from him? In his constant aspiration he knows that I am the Source; it is from me that he receives and will receive everything. He most devotedly claims me as his very own. And I proudly claim him as my very own.'”

— Sri Chinmoy, from In Search of a Perfect Disciple, Agni Press, 1972

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