Thank You, Gurumayi!

Dearest Gurumayi:

I've wanted to write to you for so long, but was waiting until I had resolved everything I wanted to say and found a way to express it all perfectly. That day, however, is too long coming. Let me begin instead by writing the one thing that I never thought I would have the opportunity to say again:

Thank you, thank you, Gurumayi.

Thank you for countless hours spent in the deep, vast ruby mine of meditation.

Thank you for the experience of losing myself in meditation, and of finding myself again when I returned to 'reality'.

Thank you for the gift of contemplation that has shone healing light and understanding on so many obscured, forgotten corners of my soul.

Thank you for the broad, ever-changing river of chanting—now flowing slowly, almost indolently, now rushing forward in swift, powerful rapids, now plunging headlong over a cataract to resolve itself in a deep pool of stillness again.

Thank you for gathering a sangham of exceptional seekers to you, among whom have been the most generous, magnanimous, pure-hearted people I've ever had the privilege to know and love.

Thank you for giving us your beauty and your youth. These things should not matter on the path, and figure nowhere in the qualities of a true Guru, but were nonetheless treasures that we loved to turn over and over in our hands, like a mala made of the rarest flower buds.

Thank you for your voice, your gorgeous deep-throated silken voice that could caress us so softly even as it wounded, like dark velvet drawn across a bruise.

Thank you for the deep black pools of your eyes; how many times did each of us rise from darshan having been transfixed by one of your fathomless glances, certain that our life had meaning and purpose in your service?

Thank you for the mantra, that mysterious talisman that accompanied us wherever we might go, protecting, nurturing fostering our identification with you and with the Self.

Thank you for faithfully transmitting Baba's teaching that we See God in One Another—which alone gives me the courage to say:

Thank you for having the strength to leave.

Because, while all of the above experiences were real and true, your absence has exposed the shadow side of this yoga that we loved and willed into existence together:

The mendacity of SYDA trustees who cared more about currying your favor while you were still in the chair than giving you honest advice about how to best handle a growing multi-national spiritual enterprise, and so contributed to its downfall.

The fear and greed of these same trustees who now think only of stringing us remaining seekers along with hollow spiritual exercises that do little more than punctuate their constant appeals for more money.

The betrayal of so many, many of your most faithful devotees who gave years of their life in selfless service without a penny put into Social Security, and now are left without even the consolation of believing that you cared, that it mattered, that it wasn't all in support of a corrupt system that ensnared even you.

Even you. Oh, Gurumayi. You were so young and so ill-served by those you trusted most. This is enough to allow me to forgive you. You never had a chance to be anything other than what you became, did you? How could you even know what you had become until it was much too late?

And then what could you do but leave, give it up, throw off the saffron and stop playing the goose that laid the golden egg, over and over again.

But you're not really free, are you? They still have you playing the part and singing along whenever they call the tune. Only now it is for a much smaller sangham, comprised solely of those who love you too desperately to let go, and those whose who have the luxury of believing that their robust bank balances are reward for the good karma of many past lives spent in squalor.

Oh, Gurumayi, I loved you once and truly and for the sake of that love I ask one thing. Leave for good. Shut it all down. Give yourself the deep satisfaction at last of telling the trustees to go to hell. Dare them to reveal whatever it is they threaten you with; their very complicity makes their threats impotent.

Give yourself and your dearest, truest, closest followers the experience of total truth; release those who have sworn their lives to you. Tell them what you have known for years now; you no longer want their lives, you want your own.

Have the grace---the Grace!-- to let your followers go. Give us the freedom you would have for yourself. Realize that nothing you can say will ever take away what we all experienced together, not even an admission of your own culpability in the travesty that Siddha Yoga has become. We can heal and forgive; then live together as true seekers, or as separate expressions of that divine Self. As hard as the way forward may seem, it is preferable to the perpetual purgatory that we are all suffering now.

Take up the grace and the courage we all know you possess and lead us one last time, our Dear One.

Anon

Punch. Counter Punch.

What do you all think of this exchange from the comments page of the last post?

PUNCH from Anonymous:

Oh Boy! I can almost not believe my eyes when I read that you have spent so much time, so many summers in Shree Muktananda Ashram and spend so much time in company of the physical form of Gurumayi and see that you haven't "got" any of her teachings!

"God dwells within you as you". Does that ring a bell? "The mantra is the Guru", "the teachings of the rays Guru", "The Heart is the hub of all sacred places. Go there and roam."... how many times did you hear that?! Did ANY of it get into your system? Did you put any of the teachings into practice? Have you been a siddha yoga student? Have you done your homework?! I'm so tired of all you "poor", "hurt" people in pain being "abandoned". You should be ashamed! You have received SO much and still are begging for more.

If you haven't experienced the Guru within, if you haven't experienced the Self, to put it plainly: if you haven't done your homework, what is the point of Gurumayi pampering you in person?!

Just for the record, I had the great fortune to spend some time in the physical presence of Gurumayi last year and let me tell you, she has never been more energetic, more alive, more in her role as a teacher than now. Just because she is not on tour, delivering talks all year long, doesn't mean she is not there for you. But the escencial question is: are you there for Her? Are you there for your own growth? Have you followed your 9 min OM sadhana every day? NO? Then do yourself and everyone else a favor and think before you blame Gurumayi and the SYDA for your own lack of committment.

February 2, 2010 1:32 PM

COUNTERPUNCH from (another) Anon

I suppose I understand the indignant response of the writer of the comment from Feb 2 that 'we' just "haven't 'got' any of her teachings." As is often the case, there is a certain lack of empathy and understanding behind the tongue-lashings delivered by those who proclaim the teachings that we should 'see God in each other.'

'Siddha Yoga' has always rested foursquare on the role of the 'Siddha,' the living master. The behavior of the Siddha in this case in no way measures up to the Masters of the past, who continued their work tirelessly and with compassion until their last breath -- for instance, Bhagawan Nityananda and even Muktananda (who at least spelled out what was happening and didn't stop showing up, even until the night of his passing).

If Gurumayi's health has deteriorated to the point that she can no longer function in her role, it is a tragedy; if she is hale and hearty, and "has never been more energetic, more alive, more in her role as a teacher than now," then at least those of us who dedicated well over a decade of our lives and sacrificed family, health, and looking after our own livelihood and well-being to work full time, seven days a week (yes, for years until we were urged to take a 'day off'') are owed an explanation for what has happened to the 'mission' of the 'meditation revolution' to which we had dedicated ourselves.

In the absence of any real explanation, we have all been left to make up excuses on our own, rather than hear some truth from the one who has so comfortably (and exclusively) occupied the 'seat' since the 1980s.

Since her behavior does not measure up to that of the Siddhas, then the obvious conclusion is that she is not who she has claimed to be (and don't give me any bull about 'she never claimed to be a siddha;' her entire role and authority as 'head of the lineage' is based upon that claim).

It is entirely possible to believe in and imbibe the teachings that "God dwells within you as you," and even to have experienced "the Guru within" and at the same time conclude that she is not -- or at least is no longer -- a 'Siddha Guru' or worthy of the authority she continues to exercise by proxy.

In fact, it is that very INNER experience that makes the conclusion about the 'outer' guru unavoidable, especially (in my own case) based upon my own very direct and 'personal' experience in her 'physical presence' on a number of occasions in my service to her over the years. The truth of the teachings, and the truth about 'Gurumayi' are two very separate things (although we have been encouraged to confuse them, and then chided for confusing them); and at this point it is quite clear to me that I can believe in and imbibe the teachings without having to make excuses for her and her behavior.

It is my very belief that God dwells within us all equally, and is the basis of our dignity and worth that leads me to expect an explanation when one human being or set of human beings treats other human beings in the way that 'Gurumayi' and her lieutenants have. To put them 'above' such responsibility denies the very truth of the teachings upon which they rest their authority (and there's no question that there are countless corrupt 'gurus' through the ages who have attempted to do so, writing their own 'teachings' on the matter of never questioning the 'guru'). If honesty is not granted to me out of respect for the God within me, who is me, then the God within me will certainly tell me the truth -- and has.

I have moved on, and am tending to my own growth. It is offensive to be scolded in the way that the writer of the post did, relying as he or she does on the old bait-and-switch of 'the Guru is the teachings' and 'don't blame Gurumayi and the SYDA for your own lack of commitment.' I know my commitment, and it doesn't necessarily require me to swallow every gimmick that gets thrown at us year after year.

The question remains: how exactly is Gurumayi fulfilling her own role as 'teacher' and authority as 'head of the lineage,' and what exactly IS HER commitment? We have every right to ask, and to expect an answer, particularly when we devoted years of our lives to supporting that authority. Her very behavior throws her authority and commitment into question, especially when compared to the commitment demonstrated by other Siddhas.

I really don't expect that an answer is forthcoming, and I'm not holding my breath. AND I have no patience left for the enablers who write such scathing (and dare I say self-righteous?) posts.

February 8, 2010 8:09 AM

A Saccharine Surprise (registered trademark)

From a reader:

It’s been announced recently almost with irony that “Guess what? Your intention has been realized. Your dream has come true. Your wish has been granted. You get to do exactly what you intended, what you dreamt, and what you wished for—in the year 2010. Gurumayi is blessing us again with the Aum Sadhana for the year 2010. Those who attended the Sweet Surprise Satsang in 2009 will have an opportunity to go deeper into the practice of the Siddha Yoga Message in the coming year” Again we are told there will be a rerun of the previous year’s message but telling us this is exactly “what we dreamt” . That’s not what I dreamt, just the way its phrased is a bit disturbing, trying to convince you, you want something you don’t. Only blind fanatics could say that’s right we won’t see Gurumayi again, we’ll hear a recording, just as I wanted! When they know everyone is shouting where are you? they even go further by saying “Whether it is your first time, your second time, or your tenth time participating“ I understand one teaching can be eternal such as “love your neighbor as yourself” or in this case “God dwells within you as you” These teachings have no expiration date so you can reflect on them forever until you realize fully their meaning and intention. But to tell us we will hear this year the same message we received last year in the same manner as this year’s only intensive was the rerun of last years and pretend that that’s what we are hoping for is just inexplainable. Yupi, great! We get to continue wondering where is she, why the silence, just what we are all dreaming of, a big question mark. Thanks for allowing me to share my thoughts here and I wish others would speak out. Am I so wrong? Am I alone? Is this really your dream come true? Blessings to all in this Thanks Giving Day, a bit ironic I know.

Can there be a Siddha Yoga without a Guru?

Dear Gurumayi
I remember with some melancholy my days in the Ashram, one thing I’ve learned: don’t be influenced by gossip and chatter. Your worst enemies are some of your followers and You must be partially responsible for it, to say the least. This “I am Shiva” has been misunderstood for “I’ll do whatever I want” including eating disorderly, lack of discipline and in general , disrespect for the teachings and for others. Siddha yogis have become egoistic, ritualistic and fanatic, more obsessed with the pronunciation of the Guru Gita than with its meaning, more focused on the form than on the content. The question is: can there be Siddha Yoga without a Guru? (Form without content) It is true that the Guru has always been taught as a principle, as an abstract, as the Absolute but it is also true that there has always been a physical relation with the Teacher, essential for the gift of the Shakti to occur. Only a living Guru, with two arms and two leg can give Shaktipat, according to the Guru Gita. You have transformed this Guru-Disciple relationship into a purely abstract relation, a blind reaching for an inner self many times hidden under layers of ignorance for many of us, this makes us no different from other Religions or cults in which followers pray to the Unknown and with hope wait for answers. In Siddha yoga there was no need for “hope” there was reality! In Siddha Yoga the answers came from the words of the Guru but now your lips are closed and the disciples are confused talking to each other and to our egos, in search for answers. The problem is that we are not reaching deep enough, our meditations have become prayers and the answers to those prayers are basically “do whatever you want” or “You like it, go for it” Shivoham misunderstood. We are lost with no clear guidance. Videos or swamis will not do, without You there is no SYDA, I believe. Please renew the so much needed direct relationship with us your devotees and allow our egos to dissolve in the ocean of bliss.

Anon

Catch you later, chicka! And thanks for everything.

Dear Gurumayi,

I started this yoga over 14 years ago now, and I gave much to it, although not as much as some. What I gave, and how much of myself I gave, was still significant, to me.

Growing up (I started this yoga in my teens) I have learnt a good deal of things, and the internet has helped me understand myself, and my relation to you, to Muktananda, and to Nityananda.

I'd like to let you know what I've learnt.

I've learnt that Nityananda was (as remains) a genuine saint, without guile, without desire, available to all. From him, came many, many, many so called "gurus" and "teachers" claiming to have a link to his power, claiming to have "inherited" his ability. But really, there is no-one other than Nityananda who can do this!

Somehow, using deep, dark magical yogic techniques, Muktananda learnt how to "steal" the power from Nityananda and use it, but he did not stay true to Nityanandas teachings. And of course, this has continued with you.

I was drawn to your power, and the power I could acces from you. Now I realise that this is all a sham, this power was never yours!

This power was always Nityananda's power, one which he laughed at becuase he knew, this power was in all of us, not to be kept with anyone one of us! And this includes, not to be kept with you!

When I visited Ganeshpuri, and visited your ashram Nityananda's statues and temple, I met, face to face, the prescence of Nityananda. What he showed me, was that he was worshipping me! I found this strange, because I was there to worship him, and what is there about me that had any value?

Of course he answered and showed me, that this is how it all works. Through Nityananda worshipping me, as God, becuase he honours me, I receive his grace, his blessings, his power. He does this, because I worship him, and in turn, give him my grace, my blessings, and my power. This exchange realises that both he and I are one and the same, and this exchange is just one giving to oneself..

Neither you nor Muktananda ever gave me this experience. And it was through this that I can now realise that you have stolen his power, for you own and put it to your own use, for your own benefit. THis is not how it works girl!

You have the millions of dollars we've given you, you have the ongoing devoted fans who will never (unfortunately) stop serviing you as your viritual slaves.. so great, time you go on your merry way and I will go on mine.

And I do have onething though, I want to thank you for introducing me to the one true genuine link to God, and that is Bagawan Nityanadan, and in him, I beleive I have found the real deal... all those who came after, are mere shadows and vague reflections of the real thing!

Catch you later chicka! And thanks for everything.

I now release you from myself, and wish you well in your path of devotion and hope that you too, can realise the sham of what has happened, and rectify the part you played, as dhama requires.

Sincerely,

Blake

You taught me something, but not what I expected...

Dear gurumayi,

I rarely think about you these days. You just seem like another New Age guru-type who made enough off naive followers to retire in style. There are sure alot of them. The scriptures of your tradition say that in Kali Yuga the world will be filled with false teachers scamming those naive enough to follow them.

I had a great longing for god, for a teacher capable of pointing me towards full awakening. I read too many books about "spiritual experiences" and thought you were the real deal when I started having those "golden experiences" you said were "signs we were making progress on the path". I didn't realize you meant the "path" towards greater Delusion. Oh gurumayi, don't you know that experiences come and go? that they are not what is real? That Truth is found right here and now, always available, simple and quiet: "what is"..no need for silk cushions, darshan baskets filled with gold bracelets, courses and intensives, altered states and all the rest.

You taught me something. But not what I expected and not what was touted by you and by your "swamis". I feel so much sympathy for the broken hearted devotees. May we all realize together (including you, gurumayi) that the Truth of our Being-ness cannot be given to us by someone else.

an older and wiser person

Even Without You

Dear Gurumayi,

A few years back when my brother died and the rest of the family wasn't told about it until a month later I was in such a bad way, in so much emotional pain. I wrote you a letter begging for help. I wish you had written back, so at least I know you had received it.

As time keeps going by and you seem more and more remote I have turned to other saints like bede baba and ramakrishna. I still feel the shakti, even without you being involved.

I really don't understand why you abandoned your devotees. At first I thought you were ill, or writing a book or something, but now I really have run out of explanations for you. You left us, the messages have become standard lame platitudes, and an intensive now runs about $500.

Despite everything I still love you and wish you well. Wish you felt the same way about us.

Cobra

Express Yourself

Dear Gurumayi,

I do not know where on the planet you are for sure. I guess I do not really care. But I want what you took from me back.

You can send it express.

Thank you,
Former devoted peon to your incredible ego.

Mailbox Missive

Dear Seekher,

It’s been three years now since undertaking the gut-wrenching affair of examining the body of evidence available at LSY; concluding with tears streaming down my face, that Muktananda had in fact engaged in sexual liaisons with his young devotees, and that Gurumayi was actively engaged in suppressing the truth. The audio from the American religious scholar’s conference was the last straw, when the levee broke and years of denial (decades really) cascaded over the falls of ‘trust your own experience’, and belief, like mists that rise from watery precipice, vaporized and carried away, invisible, to be belief no more.

Still, the warm and cozy, the embers of unique experience, like a cottage light in lonely winter, linger, even in dreams. Human nature enjoys the generalized, the romanticized, yet sometimes it’s important to see clearly, for the sake of growth.

Firstly, I wonder, was it really so “great” to drop a letter in the darshan basket back when? Well it might have seemed wonderful to have direct access to God given answers, but of course there first had to be a question, i.e. a problem, and the answer if or when it arrived, often took on a form letter quality – short on details and long on devotional catch phrasing. And since regularly scheduled darshan ended in the late nineties I believe, writing a letter with the expectation of finding a home for it in a living guru darshan basket is old, old, old. Son, it’s been the postal service for practically all the faithful for more than 10 years now.

I wrote Gurumayi a letter back in ’84 or so. The problem was that after several days of intense meditation, which was fairly often, I experienced pain at the top of the throat, around the uvula to be exact, and then my health would suffer and I’d have to cut back on mediation. I didn’t actually say uvula in my letter because at the time I wasn’t sure what that flesh thing was called and anyway I assumed that Gurumayi would divinely understand even if I was slightly less specific.

It took over 2 months for a reply to reach my mailbox, but I remember well that on the morning the letter finally arrived I was feeling so pranically hopped-up, really lit and buzzing, and I ‘just knew’ that a letter from Gurumayi was waiting for me at home. Basically the letter said that guru loved me and kept me in her thoughts, and wasn’t it a wonderful Siddha path that we walked together, and keep up your sadhana. The secretary ended by mentioning that Gurumayi had once said that papaya enzymes were good for sore throats.

I was ecstatic about the receiving a letter and thrilled that I was in touch with the Shakti, enough to psychically intuit its eventual arrival. On the other hand I was disappointed that the thrust of my problem wasn’t really addressed, that maybe Gurumayi didn’t know why I had pain or didn’t understand the question. The answer itself wasn’t satisfactory and papaya enzymes, many bottles over many years, totally missed the mark. Some time later while reading a book about Kundalini yoga I learned that there’s a rather important sub-chakra located in the region of the uvula, at the top of the throat. That was actually the yogic answer to my yogic question and I felt better for having finally discovered it, but it raised the question, “why didn’t Gurumayi tell me that in the first place”. At the time I was annoyed with myself for not having specified the ‘uvula’, though in retrospect who am I kidding, I would have in all likelihood gotten the same syrupy bhakti-fied answer either way. Gurumayi was neither omniscient nor a sub-chakra connoisseur. She simply wasn’t detail oriented and certain didn’t want to micro-manage anyone’s chakras. Keep it simple; pray to the guru, meditate a little, do seva, send money, I love you – everything happens for the best.

Speaking of letters, I’ll add that when I was suffering a health crisis in 2001, my wife sent 2 letters to Gurumayi on my behalf. The first was, according to the correspondence office, lost, and the second was answered by what I can only call a form letter. Even then as a hardcore devotee I was so upset that I picked up a stick beat the ground in frustration. When I later wrote a letter to Gurumayi myself, I received a telephone reply from her secretary, though for the most part the suggestions she gave me were not helpful and indirectly cost several thousands of dollars in treatment options.

In any event, back to generalizations. Secondly then, I object to characterizations of unapproved channels, namely eX-SY, as “full of nothing but vitriol”. While I’ve posted anonymously to your blog several times in the past, to me most memorably a lyrical reply to your ‘The Pruned Tree’ entry, I’ve been posting with some regularity at eX-SY for about three years now, and, according to my sensibilities, while the occasional splatter of vitriol does bubble up – hey some people are hurt - by and large the comments are level-headed, thoughtful, sometimes comical and even artful.

You are absolutely right in one respect; the approved channels are censored, and in being so they bottle up years of underpinned discontent till it ferments and expresses itself in the vinegary vitriol you’ve referred to. Well only saints and those who’ve never been jilted are completely without vitriol, though the former are lying and the latter don’t exist.

MovedByGod (MBG)

P.O. Box Darshan Basket

Remember how great it was when we could take a letter up to Gurumayi in darshan, reverently lay it in her basket and then, a few weeks or sometimes months later, receive an answer written by one of her darshan secretaries? For so many of us, this was the only way we had to approach the Guru looking for help and advice about some of the most important decisions of our lives. Well, darshan secretaries have gone the way of darshan but many, many people still feel the loss. Now, more than ever, they want to write to Gurumayi and confide their innermost feelings in a more tangible way than prayer and contemplation alone.

So, I'm opening up Rituals of Disenchantment to everyone—anyone—who wants to write to Gurumayi. Still avid devotees and/or rabid EX-er's are welcome. I recognize that this decision alone might stack the decks to the exes, as active devotees may not be willing to post here. I hope that is not the case. It's been a year since I posted to RoD and many things have changed, but my desire to hear from Gurumayi's devotees and share this space with them has not. So all are invited, and you are welcome to sign your post or remain completely anonymous—without even your internet name to identify you.

Here's how it will work. You send RoD a comment to this post and state you want to post a letter. Put the letter in the body of your comment. I will not approve these comments for publication, but instead will cut and paste them into a new post. I will then delete your comment and, if you wish to remain anonymous, not include any identification in the actual post.

I'm looking at this website as a repository of dreams, both longed for and unfulfilled. It's up to you to supply the dreams, the wishes, the fervent supplications and even the angry denouncements. Dreams are powerful magic, whether pursued or thwarted. So maybe I'm looking for a little Re-Enchantment after all.

PS: Not everyone wants to post a letter and I do expect comments, so fire these at me as well and I will publish them all; tell me I'm naive, a backslider, a reprobate, a hopeless romantic who lacks the courage of their convictions. Slander me as a demon dwelling in a waterless place, or simply an attention seeking whore who wants nothing less than to be ignored. Tell me how you have survived the drought of her absence and if you are one of the few to have seen her, tell us all about it and I promise you that your name will never be revealed. For better or worse---for better and worse---all those years we spent together sipping chai before dawn and sleepily chanting the Guru Gita, or huddled together in hushed silence as SHE entered the darkened meditation hall during an intensive, or swaying as the thousand-throated One in the Shakti Mandap during ecstatic Labor Day chants, have marked us. Set us apart. There is no place else where we can be ourselves, talk among ourselves, argue and cajole, reminisce and rejoice, or remember so that we might at last forget. All the approved channels are censored and the un-approved ones full of nothing but vitriol. Here you can be yourself. Or even your Self.

Letter to An Other Guru

Dear Gurumayi:

I been thinking about you and feeling bad, like we chased you off or something. I know that's dumb, right? Magdala (that's my mom, you probably remember her as Madri but lately she's been seeing this gnostic guy) keeps saying something must have happened to you, that you would never just disappear. She knows you haven't left your body because she would sense a disturbance that large in the Ground of All Being. That's what my mom believes, but then she thinks her grocery list is recorded forever in the akashic records.

I decided to write you because I know you're not getting as much mail these days, and some of what you do get isn't so nice and I wanted to tell you that people still love you very much, even if they don't communicating that except in spirit. It's just so hard because we all miss you so much and I'm not sure you miss us. At all.

I'm sorry if this letter isn't like the ones you probably remember me bringing you in darshan. I was so much more flowery when I was a kid.

just got back from a bike ride in the park and as I was changing into my jeans I felt this hard little

please don't be a stranger

Letter to a Lost Guru

"Again and again she hurriedly appeared in the margins of my life, without influencing in the least its basic text... Occasionally, in the middle of a conversation her name would be mentioned, and she would run down the steps of a chance sentence without turning her head... Once I was shown her photograph in a fashion magazine full of autumn leaves and gloves and windswept golf links. On a certain Christmas, she sent me a picture postcard with snow and stars."

~Nabakov, Spring in Fialta

Hey G:

It's safe to come out now. If you're still reading this—I'm pretty sure everyone has forgotten about Rituals of Disenchantment except you and me (and whoever has the seva of monitoring and printing out your web-mentions, naturally). And, so, now that we're nearly alone...

Look, I almost forgive you for all of it. The years lost in selfish service, the hundred-grand or so invested in dreams of enlightenment that vanished the day I finally woke up—these turned out to be not that difficult to relinquish, after all. I discovered it's not in me to grow old with regrets. Maybe that's even something I learned from Siddha Yoga. If so, consider the money paid back in full.

Other losses are not so easily forgotten. Trust. Belief. Friends. Family, for some. For many. You'll forgive me if I don't chant the entire litany, we understand each other well enough.

Last night there was a cricket outside my 6th floor bedroom window, chirping its endless one-note song from atop a nearby tree. In twenty-eight years in New York I'd never heard a cricket outside of Central Park. He's back again, and just now I transformed my annoyance at this little rerun into something like gratitude for another night's special serenade. The sort of little miracle you were always so good at pulling out of your sleeves, G. It made me miss you.

Damn. Look at me, I almost just experience-shared all over us both!

I feel I have to tell you this—right now, I am somewhat stoned. Not whacked, just mellow. I hesitate to mention it because I know I'll get a bunch of posts from breathless readers panting: "What path are you following? Smoking pot is SO NOT spearitchool!" These sort of comments can be tiresome to moderate. I never did understand the rule against getting high in Siddha Yoga—weed is most definitely more spiritual than Laksmi oil or Blue Pearl incense. The sevites who most liked to enforce the ban on pot were usually those who, IMHO, desperately needed to skip the evening chant, sneak out behind the cow shed and torch up a really fat one.

But-enough-about-me-how-about-you! Where the hell have you been? Fun Fact. Most people who find this blog through a Google search are directed to Ritual's very first post, entitled "Where The Hell is Gurumayi?" That means they were all typing that exact question into the search bar with the exact same expression of frustration! That's hilarious! The worldwide Siddha Yoga sangham has atomized into a million separate people, all searching with the same words to find the same thing. You.

I was disappointed to read in Guruphiliac that you like spending time in Ojai and Italy. I would have pegged you for a Goa girl. All that abject abandon to trance music beating beneath neon club lights—so like the good old dancing sapthas in the Shakti Mandap, yes?

No, No, you're right. I'm fishing. I have no idea where in the world you are. That used to make me nervous, made me think that I might accidentally run into you one day on the streets of New York. I'd heard how you occasionally pitched the saffron while traveling, and imagined bumping into you at the Well-Appointed Traveler on Broadway, me in a business suit buying a neck pillow, you in jeans and a sweater leafing through a Lonely Planet Guide to....where? Where would it be, G? When you finally found time away from SoFalls and GSP and touring, where did you like to go? And are you there now?

It wouldn't make me nervous to encounter you by chance today. I actually think I'd find it a tasty coincidence. The best would be to run into you at an airport bar, both our flights delayed for hours. Then I could buy you a drink (let's see, what would yours be, what would it be......Absolut Mango Lassi!) and then we could just play Catch the Freak Up, Girrrrrl. Only one rule; I can't ask you for any advice and you can't ask me for any money. Ha! Didn't see that one coming, did you!

(Listen, don't be pissed. You are way overdue for some payback. Any of your girls who aren't ribbing you back and calling you on your shit—cut them loose, they still think you're God and need to get away from you for everyone's sake. And no, the rule doesn't say I can't give you any advice. Just be grateful I'm not asking you for money.)

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful To You

Friends. I've been away too long—my bad. Two things were going on in my life. One you know; my disenchantment with Siddha Yoga is complete. Which is not to say that I reject it utterly, or feel that I received nothing good or positive from the path. But I am no longer on that path, and am feeling my way towards the next, which has lessened my need to participate here.

The other thing is that I've been having a lot of stress at work, the result of which is that I resigned this week. The details of the drama that led up to my quitting are not all that interesting to me, and I'm certain they wouldn't be to you. But, there is an aspect of this situation that I find fascinating, and that proceeds directly from having left SY. The decision to leave the job was mine, it was not mutual and I left without another job lined up. In short, I walked. Leaving that way required a kind of moral courage that I totally lacked during my time with Gurumayi. 

To be a good Siddha Yogi is to nurture a tenuous grasp of your own reality. Blissful feelings while meditating or chanting are not taken at face value, but are co-opted as evidence of that mystical belief system called the "Guru-Disciple Relationship". Every event, every feeling, each coincidence is re-interpreted in light of the "teachings" until it becomes subsumed by your beliefs. Critical thought and evaluation are crippled. This is particularly true of negative events. How many times have we dismissed difficulties with a seva supervisor, or a friend or co-worker, as karmic—the Guru's fire burning off our negative samskaras? How often have we tolerated situations that flew in the face of our own self-respect, our true evaluation of self-worth, because it seemed more "yogic" to comply, knuckle under, obey? Speaking for myself, I've lost count.

Patience is not a virtue when it means staying in a relationship that is well past its expiration date. Surrender and capitulation to other's manipulation destroys the fabric of our own reality. Our conditioning in SY too often means that we accept others stories even when we know deep down that they're not true, that they twist reality in order to justify bad behavior against us. Why? Because that is a trick we learned too well during our time at the ashram, excusing those in authority--including Gurumayi--when their behavior contradicted the teachings, finding a way to make sense of those blatant contradictions by confusing, disbelieving, misremembering our own experiences.

When confronted with this dynamic at work this time, I didn't—couldn't—back down. I knew that I had to remove myself from the situation because it would not change. I didn't search for other-worldly yogic explanations of what was going down. I trusted the evidence of my own senses, took them at face value, evaluated events and recognized patterns. I made up my own mind. 

As I write this, I realize it sounds very elemental. But for me, it is a liberation. One of the patterns that I recognized was my own. When I was a young child my father remarried and my stepmother was particularly cruel to me and my brothers and sister. My father traveled a lot, and when he did she would berate and beat us, and mentally abuse us, with impunity. When he returned she would make up stories to justify our bruises, or to counter our versions of what happened. Hauled before him we were told to admit our mistakes and take our punishment. Telling the truth, which meant denying our stepmother's lies, only made things worse. We weren't believed and our punishment was increased. Very early on, I learned that to tell truth to power was futile.

This became a lifelong habit. It didn't stop my from telling my truth, but it did lead me to capitulate to other's "truths" when they contradicted mine, if they were in a position of power and even when I knew what they said wasn't true. It's a habit I broke this week, and it had nothing to do with Guru's grace, and everything to do with the clarity of mind and self-respect that came when I turned my back on the path and walked away from that realm of delusion.

The Pruned Tree

(this one's for Joshua)

As a torn paper might seal up its side,

Or a streak of water stitch itself to silk

And disappear, my wound has been my healing,

And I am made more beautiful by losses.

See the flat water in the distance nodding

Approval, the light that fell in love with statues, 

Seeing me alive, turns its motion toward me.

Shorn, I rejoice in what was taken from me.

What can the moonlight do with my new shape

But trace and retrace its miracle of order?

I stand, waiting for the strange reaction 

Of insects who knew me in my larger self,

Unkempt, in a naturalness I did not love.

Even the dog's voice rings with a new echo,

And all the little leaves I shed are singing,

Singing to the moon of shapely newness.

Somewhere what I lost I hope is springing

To life again. The roofs, astonished by me, 

Are taking new bearings in the night, the owl

Is crying for a further wisdom, the lilac

Putting forth its strongest scent to find me.

Butterflies, like sails in grooves, are winging

out of the water to wash me, wash me.

Now, I am stirring like a seed in China.

---Howard Moss

Holy Ghosts

The other day I was talking with a co-worker who practices formal meditation. I had thought his practice was Zen, but he explained that his yoga was actually Tantric Tibetan Buddhism. I was immediately intrigued, particularly given that I confessed my own love of ritualistic yogic worship was fostered by my Roman Catholic past, and he replied that his same heritage led him to love the pujas and ceremonies of his chosen path. He talked of Green Tara and Boddhisatvas and the various bardos of existence that make up our physical reality and that of our journey after death. I tried, lamely, to explain the doctrine of recognition as espoused in the Pratyabijna-hridayam, but began to flail almost as soon as I started. I realized that I had studied Kashmir Shaivism for twenty years to no avail. Even if I questioned the very premise of Guru-ignited enlightenment, I couldn't say exactly what I was abjuring.

The next day I visited my storage unit and extracted Paul Muller Ortega's The Sacred Heart of Shiva, as well as Swami Shantananda's exposition on the  Pratyabijna-hridayam. I wanted to understand and know the (putative) scriptural basis of Siddha Yoga practice. I'm reading these resources now. There is so much to be said about Siddha Yoga's shameful seduction and betrayal of today's leading scholars of Kaula Tantra teachings. I suppose I think if I can write this story, this shameful chapter in the history of SY, I will at least know what of the philosophical underpinnings of our faith I can retrieve and rescue. 

Unanswered Prayers

Do you remember the golden period of Siddha Yoga expansionism that occurred in the 1990's? George Afif had been banished back to the Beirut ghetto he'd crawled out of, the New Yorker article was still just a blip on the radar, and each summer every public program in South Fallsburg rang with the clarion call that Siddha Yoga students must take Baba's meditation revolution to the masses. Gurumayi was going on world tours, and where she couldn't go personally she was sending ambassadors. I know one woman who traveled at her behest throughout China; when she returned she told me that she had seen white bands of shakti encircling the globe during meditation, one for each of the apostles Gurumayi was sending to spread SY meditation around the world.

Of course, the rank and file couldn't be trusted to undertake these delicate international missions, but we were told there was a way in which we could help. Through talking about Siddha Yoga to our friends and neighbors at the local level, and supporting the global mission through regular dakshina, we could do our part to ensure that the teachings of Siddha Yoga, and the inestimable gift of shaktipat diksha, would be transmitted to all humankind. Liberation, we were told, was the birthright of every living being. And, of course, we were exhorted to offer our prayers, chanting and practices for the spread of the meditation revolution

Well, as St. Teresa of Avila was fond of saying, "thank God for unanswered prayers."

If Siddha Yoga had succeeded in its global proselityzing mission, we might have found ourselves as absolutely batshit crazy as Tom Cruise in this internal Church of Scientology recruiting video. It was created as part of the ceremony during which he was awarded some sort of Scientology Medal of Honor for introducing 1 billion humans on the planet to the teachings of L. Ron Hubbard.




To view the video don't click on the YouTube picture above (YouTube took the video down due to legal action by the Church of Scientology citing copyright infringement) click on this link, but do it soon, there is no telling how long it will remain up.

The first time I watched this I thought that Tom's remarks must have been edited into incoherence. The man seems to be saying ABSOLUTELY NOTHING at all. But, armed with the index provided by an ex-church member (below) I soon realized that Tom, and the rest of his El Ron worshippers, see their mission as nothing less than total world domination.

(A letter from a former longterm Scientologist posted on Radar.com gives the meaning behind the most cryptic of Tom's references)

"I was a Scientologist for almost 30 years and I can translate what Cruise is saying," wrote Pieniadz. "He's speaking 'Scientologese,' which is a bogus language that Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard made up in order to assist in the indoctrination of his followers."

Here are Pieniadz's translations:
• KSW: Short for Keeping Scientology Working, a policy written by Hubbard in the 1960s that requires all Scientologists to follow his words and his rules exactly.

• Orgs: An abbreviation for "organizations"; describes all churches of Scientology throughout the world.

• David Miscavige: He is the current leader of Scientology. He's the equivalent of the Pope to the Catholics.

• Out-ethics: Any behavior that violates any of Hubbard's rules of conduct.

• Put ethics in someone else: Make others conform to Hubbard's rules of behavior.

• Criminon: Scientology front group that tries to recruit through the prisons.

• SP: Suppressive Person. Anyone who doesn't like Scientology and/or criticizes Scientology.

• PTS/SP: Another bogus Hubbard term to define behavior that goes against Scientology rules.

• LRH technology or "tech": All of the Scientology policies, rules, mandates, and procedures.

The Hand in the Trap

The title of my last post: "When what we had hoped for came to nothing, we revived." is a quote by Rebecca West (or so I read somewhere years ago; I've never been able to track down its origin in her writings.) I loved it when I first read it in my twenties, even though I knew I was too young to truly understand the paradox it so neatly contains. But I've carried those words around with me all this time, in memory, waiting for the situation that they describe to arise. And now it's here.

It's true that I had hoped the 2008 message would be an honest accounting of where SY is now (if not an admission of how we got here). That is was not, that it was nothing more than a recitation of the story of "the lineage", and an exhortation to do more sadhana mixed with contemplations obviously designed to make the listener believe he or she hadn't done enough, given enough, worshipped enough—was not a surprise, but a true disappointment.

It was a talk that could only have satisfied true believers, those who came looking to hear their beliefs reiterated, and so reinforced. I don't feel any special pride at no longer being one of these; I was unquestionably and unquestioningly one for many, many years.

So, where is the revival? For me, it lies outside of the practice of Siddha Yoga. Perhaps, probably, this talk will divide the sangham in two once again, at a moment when those who had left and those who had stayed were finally beginning to talk among themselves honestly and openly. Maybe it was designed to do just that. After all, talking amongst ourselves without a "moderator" was never permitted before, at least not in an official capacity.

My hope is that those who still identify as "belonging to" or practicing Siddha Yoga will stick around and talk about their experience of the message, its import on their sadhana and its effect. I hope I haven't scared you all away with my sarcastic remarks; I've thought about going back and editing them out but have not. They encapsulate my "experience" of the talk as cogently as I know how to. Please balance them out with your own, positive experiences if you'd like.

The title of this post is also from a quote, by Saint Augustine: "She who places her hand in a trap, carries the trap with her."

With this 2008 Message talk I think I see the trap that Gurumayi has placed her hand in. She will not, dare not try to go back to "the way things were". It would open too many questions, some of the official sort, that must remain unasked and unanswered. I don't believe that she wants to do this anyway--otherwise, what was the point in running away? But, "Gurumayi" can't just disappear indefinitely. Too many others have their lives and livelihoods wrapped up in a continued SYDA foundation and the appearance, at least, of an active organization. There may even be the truest of the true believers out there who would become unbalanced and dangerous if it all came apart.

So Gurumayi is condemned to continue to exist, at least periodically in public, and to continue exercising the last siddhi that has not abandoned her—that of mass thought control. Judging by this talk, that power is failing her too. Perhaps one day when it leaves her at last and the hope of controlling others finally blinks out, Malti will revive as well.

When what we had hoped for came to nothing, we revived.

OK, folks, let's dance this mess around one last time. Rat-a-tat-tat, just the facts, ma'am. I'll save the extended commentary for the comments page, where it's gonna go on regardless.

Where were we? Oh, yes. When last we left our lady in orange she had just finished relating the tale of the ten nincompoop seekers, who couldn't manage to count to ten between them, and then, after wishing Baba a happy 100th birthday several times in several different ways, she mentioned Play of Consciousness before reminding us that we have the treasure of the Siddha Yoga path only because of Baba's study, practice, assimilation and implementation of the teachings he received from his Guru.

At this point we were more than half way through the broadcast, and still there has been no mention of the message for the year. This is highly unusual, based on past years the formula for the New Year's talk was clear, after a brief introduction Gurumayi would quickly announce the message, then spend the balance of the talk uncovering and unfolding its meaning. During the 2004 talk, for instance, only four or five minutes passed before Gurumayi announced the message for the year. But, we still aren't there yet. First, Gurumayi wants to remind us all about the importance of sadhana:

"Sadhana gives you the means to see clearly what was not clear before. Just as the full moon blazing through dark clouds will illumine a landscape and allow you to move through it with ease, so with shaktipat a light is lit inside you. By means of that light you see things you couldn't see before. your physical and subtle senses are heightened, they adjust to a finer degree of perception than you knew before, perception of color and form, of energy and intention, of people and situations. In truth, sadhana for us is to experience this Bountiful grace. As you practice sadhana you come to a true estimate of the value of grace in your life. Did you hear that? As you practice sadhana you come to a true estimate of the value of grace in your life."

Next, Gurumayi told the story of the Sufi saint Rabia who, when asked what percentage of God she had attained, replied 100%. When next asked how much of herself she had given to God, she replied "100%, I got as much as I gave." Gurumayi paused and asked her audience of silent, absent listeners to contemplate Rabia's words:

"I got as much as I gave."

This contemplation was followed by a brief break to stand and stretch, punctuated after a minute or two by Nivritti Gillet greasily "welcoming" us back to our seats.

Gurumayi then asked us to close our eyes and visualize a column of light extending from the base of our spine up to the crown of the head. Your breath moves up and down the golden column as it comes in and goes out of you body. Let the breath come in easy, let the breath go out easy. Feel your own breath coming in and going out. Feel the breath at the top of your head. Feel the breath inside your head... et cetera, et cetera, you know the drill.

Then, the moment we had all been waiting for! "The Siddha Yoga Message for 2008 is..." (she taps mic three times to be sure we're all still awake out there)

"Search for the knowledge of the Truth and become established in the awareness of the Self."

Gurumayi continued: "In the coming year I would like you to study the new year's message for 2008 in the same way you have already learned to study through your work with the daily attributes, or your study of the sadhana of the heart, or the home study course. Study each world of the message and apply its meaning an d hidden blessings to your daily practice and daily life. You can do it! You have done it! Day by day. As you pondered over each new attribute, or quotation. Discover the message for 2008 word by word and extract the subtleties, the various connection between the words, and between the words and you life! ascertain the depth of color and form, of energy and intention, of people and situations."

Perhaps by way of further encouragement, Gurumayi added a small morsel of the fruit of her own contemplation: "While I was studying the words of this message and the composition of the sentence what leapt out for me is: you need to have both—the knowledge of awareness, and the awareness of knowledge."

Uhhumm. That's just what I was thinking.

"In his book Light on the Path Swami Muktananda says: Knowledge is one of the ways of obtaining God realization. It is knowing one's real self by acquiring knowledge of the truth in its essence, by the teachings of a guru. Baba Muktananda's words: through the teachings of a Guru. This is something Baba says over and over again. Disciples receive the teachings in their manifest and subtle forms from a Guru."

Gurumayi then narrated what she described as a commonly held fantasy of enlightenment: You meet the master in a remote place, bow and fold your hands, the master gazes at you with a bittersweet smile and Presto Magico! Enlightenment is yours!

But, Gurumayi asked, was this Baba's way? No. When you went up to Baba in darshan and asked for the mantra, or for the experience of meditation, he would hand you a mantra card, or point to a corner of the room and tell you to go sit, very matter of factly. Still, "the mantra came alive in the sound of your own silent breath. Meditation enveloped you in the deepest stillness. Your life was transformed. "

Hey, wait a minute, you might say! Isn't that a variation of the fantasy she just talked about? Never mind, you're missing the point of the story, which is:

"It is not about your own expectation of the Guru, or about indulging in fantasies of initiation in exotic settings. It is actually about following the teachings of the Guru."

At this point it has been several long minutes since we've had a good story, so Gurumayi offers one, a real one! from an early edition of the Ganeshpuri newsletter, "Siddha Path".

fairy dust chimes

"My friend and I had been going to Ganeshpuri village for Bhagawan Nityananda's darshan for many years. This happened 2 or 3 years before revered baba Nityananda took mahasamadhi. At that time we had no knowledge of who Swami Muktananda baba was. In those days, Muktanandaji lived in two rooms in Ghavdevi We would have baba Nityananda's darshan, and then go straight back to Bombay. One day Bhagawan asked, did you go to Gavdevi? When we said no, he told us to visit Swami Muktananda in Gavdevi before going back to Bombay. He had told us this one time before as well, to first go see Swami Muktananda, and then come back to see him in Ganeshpuri.

Whenever Bhagawan Nityananda's devotees would come to see him, he would tell them to go meet Swami Muktananda first. Every week when we would go to see Nityananda he would ask the Same question: Have you already gone to meet Muktananda of Gavdevi? We would reply, eh, we'll meet him on our way back home. One day Bhagawan NItyananda asked as always: did you already meet Muktananda? Before we could reply he said Muktananda Baba very wise, knower of the scriptures, saint. In this way he went on speaking in his succinct style. It was because of Nityananda that we could have the good fortune of receiving the nectar of knowledge from Swami Muktananda baba. Sometimes when we would go to see Swami Muktananda first, he would ask; did you already go to Ganeshpuri to see Bhagavan Nityananada? And when we would go to Bhagawan Nityananda first, he would ask: did you meet Muktananda? In this way, this bound of love between guru and disciple carried on to the end. Truly speaking, Bhagawan Nityananda himself trusted us to revered baba Muktananda."

Now, I have no reason to doubt this tale, but it did raise a few questions. Why, if everyone in the Guru tradition is always waiting and pleading for a command from their Guru, did these two hapless fellows travel all the way from Bombay to not only ignore Nityananda's direct instructions to go see Muktananda once, but several times running? I thought the Big Guy would assault people with sticks and throw stones at them for less? One can't fault them for being confused, though, with Nityananda sending them to Muktananda who sends them back to Nityananda, who send them on to Muktananda and so on.

But, we're missing the point again, and then there are the fairy dust chimes telling us story time is over...

Next Gurumayi sings in Hindi Baba's prayer to his Guru, from Play of Consciousness (so we did make it back there, after all) before giving the English translation. And then she has an inspiration:

"Baba's prayer is just so divine. In your future study of the message I would like to make a suggestion. You can cultivate your creative expression by writing a prayer to the guru! Here is one way to approach it; read Baba's prayer from Play of Consciousness several times through. Notice if any particular word or phrase draws your attention, calls to you. Or maybe it is an image or a feeling that is evoked for you. Note that word, or image or feeling in your journal. Allow it to resonate for you. You can even devote a special section of your journal to your experiences of the Guru. Or, you can create a Guru journal! Hmmmm. Be creative. Don't hesitate to write down any inspiration that arises for you, know that once you have set your intention to create your prayer, you will begin to attract the very images and words that will fulfill your intention. "

(Must be that 'ole debil Shakti again, heightening your physical and subtle senses and fine-tuning them to a higher degree of perception...)

And then Gurumayi repeats the message again in English and Hindi and...

SGMKJ!

The uses of disenchantment

Years ago I was watching the Disney film "Beauty and the Beast" on DVD with my nieces in my brother's living room. They were both enraptured with the tale, hanging on every twist and turn. At one point in the story the Beast passes out, I honestly can't remember why, and Belle has to hoist him onto the back of her horse. Now, the beastly Beast is maybe twice the size of petite Belle, yet she lifts him into the saddle with no problem at all. For me, this was just too much. Willing suspension of disbelief covers just so much ground and this was a yard too far, and I said so. Natalia, the more precocious of my two nieces came back with the perfect rejoinder:

"It's a CARTOON. The whole thing is unbelievable, that's the point!"

Disenchantment is not like the willing suspension of disbelief, the failure of which might make us question the plausibility of a Disney plot point or two, before we happily surrender ourselves to the magic of fantasy once again. No, disenchantment is serious stuff. Once a spell is broken it cannot exercise any more sway over the bewitched. For better or worse, you are free.

Doubtless, I should have anticipated this. After all, I was the one who named this blog Rituals of Disenchantment. Didn't I know what the outcome of my magic would be? Wasn't I the one who way back when (three months ago!) wrote:

"I've named this blog Rituals of Disenchantment because we all have to break the spell of silence that has been cast over the Siddha Yoga sangham if we are ever to become re-enchanted with this yoga again."

But, there is no re-enchantment. I'm here to tell you that once you've learned to think for yourself, once you feel free to apply your critical understanding to the claims, teachings and legends of Siddha Yoga, there is no going back. The unquestioning mind of a disciple is no longer yours to possess. You've eaten the apple, peeked behind the curtain, opened Pandora's box and now you have to deal with the plague of knowledge swirling around you.

It's midnight in the garden of good and evil, folks. Step right this way and enjoy yourselves the show!

What I have posted thus far of the message talk for 2008 has been seen as wholly negative by some readers. Oh, Christ, I wish I could maintain the balance that characterized my earlier posts. But, I can't. There is no way for me to view this message as anything other than a cynical ploy to keep good-hearted folk on the hook. This by way of warning for what's coming next. The thing is, I don't believe my perspective is the be all and end all. I actually welcome those of you who feel differently to tell your truth here. Not because I want to argue with you. No, far from it. I want to hear what you have to say because, having lost the certainty of belief, I'm still fascinated by it, it still exercises its fatal allure.

When what we had hoped for came to nothing... Part 3

Play of Consciousness. Just hearing Gurumayi mention Baba's spiritual autobiography took me way back to the start of my sadhana. Like every good beginner Siddha Yogi I had bought a copy of the hard cover edition, the one with the picture of Baba in his "lion of ganeshpuri" shaktipat pose on the cover. I began to devour it immediately, but have to say I didn't finish it for a long time. SY was too new and there were just too many other books and talks to command my attention (interesting phrase, that). And Play of Consciousness, let's face it, is a tough read for those who have not yet developed the appetite for colorful yogic kriyas and abstruse Indian philosophy. In the first years of my sadhana, it was just too much.

Eventually, of course, I came around. You just couldn't NOT read it if you were serious about the path. For a time during the late eighties and early nineties it was mentioned in every course, every Intensive. I vividly remember sitting on the hillside overlooking Nityananda Lake during the Fire Course one summer night. The leaders of the course were selectively humiliating South Fallsburg ashram insiders under the guise of asking them 'fiery' questions about their sadhana. The rumor was that the swamis asking the tough questions were wearing hidden earphones, that it was really Gurumayi who was behind the 'tapasya'. Later, it came out that it had been George Afif on the other end of the microphone, settling old scores and maintaining his iron grip over the ashram. As a newcomer and 'short term retreat participant' I couldn't know any of this; I just bought the line that those 'closest to the Guru's fire' were burning up karma.

At some point the questions came addressed to the general assembly of course participants. "Who here is not afraid of dying?" was one of the first. When a smattering of souls raised their hands they were made to stand up; the bravest among them volunteered to be handed a mic and have their resolve tested. As each one explained the source of their fearlessness the leaders mocked them, exposed their flimsy devotional rationales, taunted them by saying that the Guru wouldn't be with them at the moment of their death. I remember this so well because my best friend at the time was one of the unfortunates. I ached for him, but wasn't fearless enough to stand up in his defense, only smart enough to keep my head down and not answer the next question—which was "Who here has not read Play of Consciousness?" Amazingly, people stood up to confess this lapse. You can imagine the abuse these 'seekers after the truth' were subjected to—they wanted to follow in Baba's footsteps and couldn't even be bothered to read his spiritual autobiography?

But the leaders were not finished with the rest of us. "Who has only read Play of Consciousness once? Stand up!" And then, of course, who has read it only twice? Three times? The point was hammered home with each fresh rank of failures, until nearly everybody was standing. Why hadn't we read the greatest book about sadhana ever written, over and over again? What obstinancy kept us from continually studying what was the sum and summation of Baba's spiritual knowledge and attainment! What kind of seekers were we?

Word of the Fire Course spread through the Siddha Yoga sangham like, well, like a wildfire. When the 25th anniversary edition of Play of Consciousness was subsequently published it was hard to find anyone at the ashram who didn't have a new copy tucked under their arm or open on their lap. I read it again and again. By this time I was better able to appreciate this strange book with its exotic accounts of Baba's night time meditations, when he would be visited by gods and goddesses who would take him with them to Siddha Loka, or the moon, or hell, like otherworldly tour guides. Some of the language was utterly beautiful. I remember one passage in particular in which Baba uncharacteristically couldn't remember what had taken place during his meditation, only that entering it was like floating on a black river beneath the silent gates of a dark city. The account of Baba's initiation by Bhagawan Nityananda was towering in its serene, majestic beauty. Whoever wrote Play of Consciousness (and speculation tends to run to Amma, Baba's personal assistant at the time, whose name, whose very existence, has been scrubbed from SY history) was a fantastically talented writer.

At that moment I was interrupted from my reverie and my attention turned back to the hall as I heard Gurumayi rushing on with her talk:

"Play of Consciousness. Chit Shakti Vilas. To describe the importance of meditation and spiritual practice, Swami Muktananda wrote what has become THE BOOK for those who want to pursue sadhana. On Baba's 100th birthday I'd like to bring your attention to the SY legacy. Baba Muktananda established the SY path as a living tradition for seekers of the truth around the world. Baba's mahaprasad, his supreme gift to us is the great legacy of essential SY teachings. These teachings are alive with divine grace, they are chaitanya, they have been infused with the guru's prana shakti, the guru's breath which is chaitanya."

As she spoke, Gurumayi repeated many words and entire phrases in Hindi, as if to give them added legitimacy, to stress that they come from outside the Western tradition and are unknowable to devotees unless the Guru translates them into terms we can understand. She went on to talk about how we have the teachings because of the way Baba undertook his sadhana, how he respected the teachings and guidance he received from his Guru, how he studied, practiced, assimilated and implemented the SY teachings.

And then she began a familiar practice, taking each word she had used to describe Baba's sadhana and giving its dictionary definition, but I was still thinking about Play of Consciousness. Why had she brought it up, only to immediately move on? Had the most important book in Siddha Yoga become nothing more than a throw-away line? Or was there something I was missing? Could this be one of those mysterious hints Gurumayi was so good about hiding in her talks--the kind that would become poured over and interpreted and re-interpreted during a year's worth of study sessions? If so, what did it mean?

Gurumayi was using the occasion of Baba's 100th birthday as a pretext to examine the origins and trace the lineage of Siddha Yoga, following the transmission of teachings and grace from Bhagawan NItyananda to Baba Muktananda to...who? Wouldn't it be natural to say that the transmission continued with her Guru-hood? Why this lacuna? Why stop at Baba's teachings as exemplified in his book Play of Consciousness, or, in its original name:

Chit Shakti Vilas

Chidvilasananda

Oh. right. I get it now. Bringing up the name of Baba's autobiography is a neat way for Gurumayi to remind us that Baba passed the lineage on to her, Swami Chidvilasananda, without having to deal with the messiness of narrating the actual succession drama, i.e. first her brother Nityananda is raised to the guru's chair by Baba, then she is installed as his co-successor and then, soon after Baba's death, the coup.

This sleight of hand has another purpose, it allows Gurumayi to simultaneously claim the Siddha Yoga Guruhood, and deftly sidestep it. Because when she retreats back out of the spotlight this taped message has briefly thrown on her to resume whatever life she is leading, her students will doubtless be told that this is an act of humility, that she wishes them to receive their instruction not from Chidvilasananda, but from their paid study of Chit Shakti Vilas.

When what we had hoped for came to nothing... Part 2

I coaxed my mind away from its disappointment in the story of the ten dullard pilgrims, and turned it towards focusing on the point that tale was meant to illustrate:

"What do you habitually leave out of account when you take stock of your own world? Your own self, your own consciousness. That is the one that must be added to all the zeros, the one of the Self. "

In past years I would have agreed with this assessment without question. The Self? I didn't think about That nearly enough. Couldn't seem to keep That in the forefront of my waking consciousness for any extended length of time, and if I couldn't manage to maintain that practice for even a day or two, how was I ever going to become established in That State?

However, that's not what I was thinking when I heard Gurumayi say these words on New Year's Day. My immediate impression was that they weren't true for me anymore. I don't leave myself out of the consideration of my world! That world exists only in relation to my self, my consciousness, its perspectives, ideas, thoughts, judgments and beliefs.

Of course, I understand the distinction Gurumayi was trying to make between the (pure) self and the ego, I just don't believe in it anymore. When I thought there was a "capital S" self out there that I had to fight to relate to, it didn't eradicate my ego, it weakened it in ways that do not serve me as a person in the real world. It made me uncertain in my own skin. Now that I'm thinking for myself, without the mental gymnastics of having to align my everday thoughts and feelings with some unattainable ideal, I feel much more self-assured, calm and happy. In fact, in the past few months I've noticed a marked reevaluation in my assessment of myself. I feel more grounded in my beliefs, more able to articulate them and more certain of their truth, for me. If others disagree or contradict my truth, I not only don't get offended, I don't feel any need to argue the point. There is a quiet self-assurance that has grown up within me, maybe, probably, likely as a consequence of writing Rituals of Disenchantment and interacting with all those who have been moved to share their thoughts here.

In any case, there was no time to linger over the appreciation of this new estimation of my self worth. Gurumayi was again ecstatically wishing Baba a happy hundredth birthday! She exclaimed that if he were alive today ("in his physical body") Baba would announce to the whole world "I am 100 years old! I am a young man!" She shouted: "Can't you just hear him saying that?"

Now, I never met Baba. Never felt any particular connection to him, though I faithfully read all his books more than once, though I prostrated myself with abject abandon at the foot of his altar in the back of the main hall in South Fallsburg, watching mesmerized as the eyes of his picture would follow me back to my seat during each Intensive. So, when I would hear Gurumayi paint word pictures of him like this in the past I would just smile knowingly, confident that anyone who had met Baba or spent any time with him would be able to envision the scene precisely as she described it. But since that time I have read many more first-hand accounts of devotees' experience with Baba, and have had to come to terms with the well-chronicled instances of his sexual abuse of minors, and the violent tactics certain of his followers used to silence those who tried to protect the innocent. So now, this picture of a Perfected Master that I had always accepted without question was replaced in my mind's eye by one of a Perfect Bastard. Toothless, impotent, I saw Baba pushing his flaccid way into young female devotees, just girls really, as they turned their faces blankly away from the sight of his ecstasy, trying to will away the memories that are already sinking roots into their bodies like cancer.

Gurumayi continued with her fantasy of a live (in his physical body!) Baba having as much fun on his birthday as a ten year old. There would be laughter and food, singing and meditation. (I thought dryly, like there used to be in South Fallsburg when we actually gathered together as one to celebrate Siddha Yoga holy days?) Baba might even hold a year-long Shaktipat Intensive! The day would ring with Baba's characteristic phrases (Gurumayi repeats some of these in Hindi, without translation) And as Baba would always do during a satsang as part of a story, or for emphasis, or to quiet the room when loud kriyas were happening...

she taps the microphone slowly five times and repeats

shanti shanti shanti

Then Gurumayi asks: why is Baba's birthday so significant for us? It is a time to remember and reflect on what he so lovingly taught us. The Self is immortal. The Guru is immortal. The Self, God and the Guru are one. As we celebrate this anniversary of 100 years we are at the same time celebrating Baba's boundless love, Baba's all-pervading shakti, Baba's immeasurable grace and Baba's eternal teachigns.

Baba is immortal! she declares. She repeats this in Hindi. In fact, English and Hindi have alternated throughout this talk in a way I can't remember since I took an Intensive in Gurudev Siddha Peeth. And then Gurumayi begins to sing Jay Jay Muktanandaya! Muktananda Jay Jay! The musicians pick up the melody and play it for a few bars, just long enough for us to begin listlessly to follow along. And then, abruptly, the chant ends and I hear her say those three words.

Play of Consciousness.

Chit Shakti Vilas.

to be continued

When what we had hoped for came to nothing...

Of all the ways to study Siddha Yoga, I've always loved listening to Gurumayi's talks the most. I bought each one on CD or video as soon as it was available, and listened to it over and over again with rapt attention. It got to be that I had so memorized the rhythm and cadence of her speech, so internalized the darkly lush intonations of her voice, the plum-like fullness of her syllables, the exquisite clarity of her enunciation and, of course, the warm springs of her laughter that I could hear her reciting her talks even when I'd read them in books.

When the tradition of the annual Siddha Yoga message was established, what had been a glorious, overgrown profusion of Gurumayi's talks each year was tamed into a single coherent focus of study. Most years I made the pilgrimage to South Fallsburg to listen to the New Year's Message at her feet. And over the years I began to develop a curious ability. I knew that there would be a delay of at least two months before the recorded version of the talk would be available and, not wanting to miss practicing the full import of the message during those important first weeks of the year, I found a way to memorize whole passages of the talk. It didn't involve note-taking, a practice which I discovered early on divided my attention and reduced the talk to discrete fragments of whatever seemed important in the moment, leaving large gaps and destroying the coherence of the message.

Instead, I would sit comfortably and pay extremely close attention to every word, not allowing my attention to wander for even a moment to think about what Gurumayi had just said, but rather let her words sink into me like water running into a bed of hot sand. It didn't matter that the words would vanish from my short term memory almost as quickly as she spoke them. If I listened in this way and allowed the message to permeate me, then there was a good chance I could race away the moment the talk was over and write most of it down in my journal. In this way, I was able to capture whole segments of the talk, and even direct quotes of the points Gurumayi had stressed through repetition or particular emphasis. Nowadays I look on this ability as something of a parlor trick, but at the time I was proud of it, and when I'd gather with friends afterwards at amrit to compare mental notes on what Gurumayi had said and exactly how she said it, I was happy to be able to remember so much, in so much detail.

I approached this New Year's Message broadcast in the same way, hoping to recapture the same depth of attention and focus and retention. Consider this my experience talk of that effort.

My concentration was tested from the start when the broadcast began with the MC, Navritti Gillet, introducing himself as "a long term retreat participant" at South Fallsburg. Full disclosure; I've always disliked Navritti Gillet. He's never done anything to me; I've never even had a private conversation with the man, but he has always struck me as unctuous and transparently false. His voice has the self-satisfied tone of someone who has spent a great deal of time listening to himself speak, and is in love with what he's heard. But, it was that term: "long term retreat participant" that set my teeth on edge. Really? Are we really still talking about So Fallsburg in this way? What retreat is going on there?

OK, breathe. Shake it off. It isn't him you've come to hear, I reminded myself. Banish the image of his absurd little moustache from your mind and concentrate on the message that is coming. After all, you've waited so long for this. You're expecting so much. There are so many questions you have that you're certain will be answered. You're going to hear Gurumayi!

And, I remembered, I did have such high hopes for this talk. I felt sure that the Guru who had admonished us over and again "Never break another human heart, because it is in the heart that God dwells" would surely have something to say to those whose hearts have been broken after four years without any word from their Beloved. The teacher who had stressed that the ashram is the extended body of the Guru, and who had once asked everyone in the worldwide sangham to write an essay about what the ashram meant to them, would doubtless speak about the state of our beloved South Fallsburg ashram and the plans for its future. The Disciple who had shared so much of her own sadhana to illustrate the teachings would certainly have something to say about her experiences of the last four years, and how they have colored and shaped her understanding of the Truth.

And then Navritti was introducing the speaker by saying that "Our teacher today for the New Year's Message will be none other than our beloved Guru, Gurumayi!" I wished then that I hadn't read the comment from the devotee in Australia who had spilled the beans on the "sweet surprise" on New Year's eve (already New Year's Day down under). I imagined the wave of excitement that must have swept across the globe when the introductory mantras began and it was Gurumayi's unmistakable voice leading the chant. And then:

With great respect and love, I welcome you all with all my heart.

Hearing her pronounce those words, something felt...missing. Perhaps, I told myself, it's just that I'm not in the hall seeing her, truly being with her. But it wasn't that. I've heard Gurumayi's voice over broadcasts, both live and taped, many times before but it was always with the awareness that she was speaking in a hall filled with people. You could hear the rustling and coughing and laughing of the devotees fortunate enough to be there with her, and it helped to crystallize the scene. This always left me with a sense of longing and envy and even with the delicious feeling of eavesdropping on history in the making. But her voice now was shrouded by a mysterious silence. I had the uncomfortable sense that she was alone and speaking into a telephone line that communicated only one way.

My unease only increased when Gurumayi wished everyone a happy new year, by saying:"You've all come together in your satasang halls to hear the "sweet surprise"! So, please take a minute to wish each other a happy new year, and if you happen to be by yourself, wish yourself a very happy new year." She lifted her voice to emphasize the second syllable of 'surprise' in a way that made the word sound like baby-talk, and then the music began-- a jaunty up and down melody like the one on that game show Jeopardy, that is meant to count down a short passage of time.

When the music ended a gong sounded three or four times to signal us to return to our seats. Gurumayi then explained "when you hear the gong, it means the sharing session is complete. Everytime you hear the gong it means we are wrapping up a session of the satsang." This was so unnecessary and forced that it threw the rhythm off and only underscored the fact that we weren't in contact with her, no one was in contact with her, she was delivering the message into a sound-proof booth.

But, I reminded myself, haven't we been conditioned in SY to things changing all the time? Isn't that part of the practice of sadhana, doesn't it help us to let go of preconditioned ideas and be in the moment? I refocused on Gurumayi's words just as she was beginning to tell a story....

"Once upon a time there lived a great being. He was a great Guru. He had attained liberation. He was well known for his divine ability to give shaktipat, the awakening of kundalini shakti. In our time it was he who made shaktipat known to the whole world. HIs name was Swami Muktananda. We called him Baba. He was born in 1908 and now 100 years later in 2008 we are celebrating Baba's 100th birthday. 100 years! Happy birthday Baba! Do you want to wish him happy birthday? Go ahead! Happy birthday Baba!"

Gurumayi began to repeat her happy birthday salutations in Hindi as I somewhat nervously wondered if we were all supposed to join in. But before anyone could, Gurumayi continued:

"Without the number one, zeroes add up to nothing, Baba would say. Everything is zero, indicating it is meaningless, without...without what exactly?"

Suddenly a sweep of musical chimes, like the one used to signify pixie dust being sprinkled in the telling of fairy tales, marked the beginning of a story. Gurumayi then told the tale of the ten pilgrims who were crossing a river. When they made it to the other side they counted up to be sure no one was missing. But to their horror there were only nine of them! The story continued as one after another seeker completed the count and found only nine, until they all were weeping. A farmer heard them, asked what was wrong and then suggested they count again. In the middle of the recount he stopped them and suggested they they begin the count with themselves. Lo an behold there were ten of them after all! Each had forgotten to count himself!

Gurumayi continued by saying that Baba would tell this story to illustrate that without the number one, everything is zero. "What do you habitually leave out of account when you take stock of your own world? Your own self, your own consciousness. That is the one that must be added to all the zeros, the one of the Self. That gives life its rasa."

Again, for me, something wasn't quite right. I soon realized what it was. In the past when I would listen to Gurumayi's recorded talks over and over there were always passages that I inevitably began to skip over. These were almost always the stories. After repeated listenings the stories always seemed drawn out, way too long to justify the point they were meant to illustrate. Sure, when I first heard each story I LOVED it. And when I listened on tape everyone was laughing along with Gurumayi as she narrated with exaggerated silliness the folly of whoever was being taught a lesson because of their obstinacy or blindness. But it was clear to me that the magic of a Gurumayi story didn't translate as well to a recording as the rest of her talk. It was a meant for a live audience, a chance for Gurumayi to really roll up her sleeves and put on a performance that would delight her listeners. And that was the trouble here. There was no crowd to react to the story, no roar of laughter to punctuate the punch lines, no interaction at all. And yet, the story was written as if it was going to be performed before a live audience of thousands.

In the absence of feedback from an audience the story of the ten pilgrims seemed terribly belabored. Perhaps to compensate, Gurumayi raised the volume on her theatrics until they seemed shrill and histrionic. For me, the story didn't serve to set up the Baba quote at all. It was like trying to extract a personal lesson from the misunderstandings of a gathering of idiots.

to be continued

The Siddha Yoga Message for 2008 is...

OK. I'm not made out of wood. When a commenter from Australia revealed that the 2008 message talk would be given by Gurumayi herself, well, I just had to sign up.

I'd LOVE to tell you the message; I'm DYING to tell you the message. It's a message everyone MUST hear right away.

There's just one itty-bitty problem. At my center they made everyone promise not to talk about or reveal the message until after February 15. What's so auspicious about this date, you ask? Dunno. But I'm guessing it's the last day you can pay to sign up and hear the message via webcast.

In other words; pony up one hundred bills, or remain in the dark regarding the first message personally given by Gurumayi since 2004. But, here's the dillio! Once I collect myself from the shock of again hearing Gurumayi's divine voice (even via pre-recorded tape) I promise to share with you my 'experience' of the talk.

Stay tuned, gentle readers.