Prologue/Epilogue

Note to readers:

This is the first installment of Lucid's experiences in Siddha Yoga.

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My mother’s participation in Siddha Yoga preceded my own and began in the 1980s, while I was still in High School.  We lived in the southwest, at a safe geographical distance from things like Co-Evolution Quarterly articles, throne succession dramas and banished brothers – in fact, my mom and I remained unaware of all the above until nearly a decade after the fact, not until after we'd both been deeply invested in Siddha Yoga for many years.

 

During the early days of her participation, my mom left the door to Siddha Yoga propped open and always welcomed my questions, but to her credit never actively encouraged me to get involved. Back then I was still a teenager who often teased her about such things. When she’d play her rousing cassette recording of “Om Namo Bhagavte Muktanandaya” (which privately I thought had a pretty good beat) I’d quip,“Is this what they play during the Ashram aerobics class?” I figured as long as she could hang onto her sense of humor about Siddha Yoga, I didn’t need to worry. And she always took my teasing in stride.

 

By the late 1980s my mom and her local Siddha Yoga Center friends had become regulars at the annual summer retreats in South Fallsburg. She’d go for a week each July and come back with loads of unusual, sometimes astonishing stories. I knew scrubbing tiles on my hands and knees at 8am was not my idea of a vacation, but aside from that I didn’t have any frame of reference for most of what she talked about. I worried a bit when I heard her describe the daily ashram schedule, remark that “even though no one gets any sleep they still have plenty of energy,” and share the (torturous-sounding to me) details the course she took where she had to dress all in white and sit locked in a lotus for an entire day – but she always returned from her Fallsburg adventures refreshed, excited to get back to her life. And, although increasingly something didn’t sit right with me about Siddha Yoga itself, I could always take a step back and say that my mom hadn’t shaved her head and wasn’t dressing all in orange. She was still my mom. Still the most intelligent, loving and beautiful person I’d ever known. Despite my simmering concerns about what really went on at the mysterious far off place in the Catskills, it did seem that as a result of her participation in Siddha Yoga my mom’s life was getting better.

 

In June of 1989, I moved to San Francisco just as my mom was completing a sabbatical across the bridge in Berkeley. As it happened, Gurumayi was also Oakland, concluding an extended series of public programs. There I was, having finally arrived in the city that for years I’d dreamed of making my life in. Something about embarking on that big adventure at a time when the three of us – mom, Gurumayi and I – were all in the same place, made the timing seem meant to be. Just prior to moving I’d also had my first dream about Gurumayi. Over the years I’d heard from my mom’s devotee friends that Gurumayi often spoke to them this way. The sensations from that first, brief, REM-state encounter in which Gurumayi held my face in her hands, kissed my forehead and my jaw went numb, were still reverberating in my head. Maybe that dream meant something that would be revealed to me later.

 

The day after I arrived in San Francisco I told my mom I was finally ready – I wanted to go check Siddha Yoga out for myself. When I made the announcement she contained her excitement, perhaps not wanting to over-hype my expectations, but I could see in her eyes she was elated. “When the student is ready,” she affirmed, “The teacher appears.”

 

I attended two evening programs, met Gurumayi and believed I’d been changed forever.

 

In the weeks that followed, my feet barely touched the ground. I was flying on a high I’d never experienced before, a feeling I could only compare to the feeling I had the first time I fell in love. But the feeling was far more vast and deep than that. It was as if a curtain had been drawn back and I’d been welcomed into some private cosmic club, like I’d slipped into an alternate reality, one I could only conclude must be the secret, astonishing, actual reality of the Universe. I felt like I was experiencing life as it really was meant to be experienced – rich with endless, intoxicating wonder and profound meaning.  As I walked down the street, I often saw Gurumayi’s gaze beaming out at me from the eyes of the people I passed. I felt recognized by total strangers. I felt seen, accepted, even loved. There was something different about me people noticed and were drawn to, and something different I saw in them too. It was as if somehow, deep down inside, we all knew each other. I felt like I was living in a state of heightened awareness that had always been there just waiting for me to discover it. Somehow, through all the years leading up to that one I'd missed it but now, for lack of a better expression, I felt like I was in on the joke. And the joke was that up to that point my experience of my life had been largely a delusion.

 

Some fairly uncanny “coincidences” occurred in the months that followed those first two encounters with Gurumayi. I had no context for any of it. Part of me could not wrap my mind around the belief that what was happening was the result of "Guru's grace.” That seemed too outrageous. But another part of me eventually concluded it was the only possible explanation. The feeling was a mixture of awe, humility and fear – fear of a force so powerful it could completely transform my entire experience and understanding of myself and my life.

 

After Gurumayi left town I didn't go back to the Ashram. I didn't take up what anyone would have called a formal “practice”. I placed a small puja in the corner of my room, just a small dish of sand from the desert, a few shells and a picture of Gurumayi beside a box of Blue Pearl incense and a small stack of my mom’s Darshan Magazines that I thumbed for pictures but never read. I played a tape of the mantra each night, a solo recording of Gurumayi singing the mantra  – “I don’t how you can possibly fall asleep to that!” my roommate Melissa groaned – and that was about it. I didn’t feel drawn to pursue things further. I had been walking around mesmerized in the months that followed meeting Gurumayi and those first few doses of Shakti felt like more than enough. Perhaps, just as my mom had done in her early years as a devotee, I was keeping myself at a safe distance.

 

Then, four years later in the fall of 1992, gutted from a devastating romantic betrayal, still reeling from a brutal break-up and feeling dead inside, I had my second dream about Gurumayi. This one was for more elaborate, drenched in potent imagery, mystical symbolism, and specific initiation instructions – none of which I understood. The timing of the dream and its precise, vivid details seized my attention, but I had no idea what any of it meant. I began a quest to find out.

 

A few months later I learned Gurumayi was returning to Oakland for her first public appearance in the bay area since I’d last seen her in 1989. The announcement felt like yet another sign – personal, significant. I was in a state of emotional and psychological ruin when I heard the news. Learning she was coming back, just when I needed her most, felt like a miracle.

 

I heard a full month of evening programs were planned. Maybe if I was lucky I could switch a few shifts at work and make it over to Oakland in time attend one or two. Then, shortly before Gurumayi's arrival, I was laid off. My schedule became completely free. I could plan on attending every talk she gave. It was meant to be.

 

Upon her arrival I attended the Sunday “Welcome Gurumayi” program and over the next three weeks attended all nine of her evening programs, back-to-back each Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night, with darshan often running until past 11 p.m. (Those were the days!). No experience prior to or since quite compares. During those three weeks I was submerged deep in an inner ocean and believed I'd discovered a multitude of treasures. In retrospect, the experience was so potent it’s a miracle I wasn’t spit from the earth like a watermelon seed!

 

As Gurumayi’s ‘93 visit concluded and I stood mere steps from the precipice of tumbling headlong into the life of a card-carrying, full blown devotee, the “Have-you-heard-about-her-brother?” and Co-Evolution Quarterly bombs dropped. That’s a chapter I haven’t written yet. But suffice to say that in retrospect it tells me so much that both those bombs exploded right in my face and my response was to charge straight ahead and become more deeply involved.

 

In 2007, when “The Guru Looked Good” was still up as a blog, Marta shared that one of her goals was to write about her Siddha Yoga experience “without all the fairy dust.” Well folks, as a disclaimer may I suggest that before reading my story you strap on your protective glitter goggles? My “Tell All” does contain its fair share of sparkle, but that’s because so do my earliest memories of Gurumayi. To this day I still haven’t fully figured out that “Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo!” factor. But sending myself back, then taking a stab at writing my way through did help.

 

This morning, in a moment of warped amusement, I had an idea to draft a “spoiler alert” in preface to this first and only chapter of my Siddha Yoga story. Then I realized there’s no point. RoD readers already know it has a happy ending. Still, the irony is not lost on me: being here at the finale of my exit process, just now posting the overture . . .

 

Thank you once again to Marta for inspiring me to write about the adventure; thank you to SeekHer for providing a safe harbor for the travelogue. And thank you to all who have tuned in and contributed, here and elsewhere, for all these years. Somehow, down this long and winding road, we’ve come to know each other – in ways that have made a big difference to me.

 

Lucid

Tall Tales and Tell Alls

I've been reading a lot lately from people who woke up to the falsity of their spiritual path after a lifetime of unquestioning belief. It started when I began looking more deeply into Mormonism in order to better understand America's presumptive Republican nominee. After trying to read the Book of Mormon and quickly realizing that the title was misspelled (one too many m's) I opted for the straight dope offered at exmormon.org. There, I found post after post after post written by Mormons who stumbled onto internet accounts detailing secrets that their church leaders had zealously withheld. Secrets which, once revealed, cratered and then crumbled their faith. Tellingly, the arc of their stories dovetailed nearly exactly with my own, and with many of those shared here at RoD—the initial fear of betraying deeply held spiritual convictions, followed by discovery of the truth and searing self-examination, inevitably leading to the courage to leave falsehood behind, no matter the personal or psychic cost.

A similar mass apostasy is befalling Scientology, the leaders of which have found their house of cards listing perilously in the winds of the world wide web. It seems both Xenu and Joseph Smith's harem of thirty-four wives are just a Google search away from disenchanting the most devoted of disciples.

The last example came this past weekend on a visit to my sister, when she passed along a book that friends in her reading circle recommended, "An Unquenchable Thirst: Following Mother Teresa in Search of Love, Service and an Authentic Life," by Mary Johnson. Before committing to its 500+ pages I skipped to the epilogue, where I found what I suspected; the book's purplish title belied its contents—a bare-knuckled account of twenty fraughtful years spent with a 'living saint', written by an ex-nun who had seen it all and survived to tell the tale. I considered borrowing the book for the train ride home, but then remembered I had something better on my Kindle: Marta Szabo's excellent account of her years with our own Nearly Departed One.

Many here will remember that Marta's book, "The Guru Looked Good," began as a series of posts on her blog of the same name. Back then, I eagerly read each new chapter as soon as it was posted online. I had known Marta from the Manhattan ashram and later, South Fallsburg; we were friendly if not exactly friends in that ashram way, and I felt I could vouch for both her good heart and scrupulous integrity. But even if I hadn't known her personally, I knew that this simple, unadorned account of her years devoted to Gurumayi would have struck a deep chord in me. Her tale was our tale.

It was the ashram-instigated smear campaign against her that, more than anything, shocked me into the crisis of faith that precipitated my starting Rituals of Disenchantment.

When her book came out I bought copies, distributed some to friends, and dipped in to reread some of the chapters I had loved online. But for some reason I never read it again all the way through. Now I wanted to, and once I started I found I couldn't put it down. I anxiously turned the pages whenever Madri (Marta) was given an impossible seva to accomplish, and squirmed through ordeals when she was called before Gurumayi to face the music for some ridiculous infraction of the rules or imagined mistake in protocol. But there are achingly beautiful accounts here, too, that capture the fatal allure that held us all captive for so long. The small chapter on her seva spent devoutly washing and dressing the murti of Bade Baba, moving as silently as a shadow among the muted blue lights of his numinous nighttime shrine, is a miracle of evocation.

There is much here, too, that I don't remember reading online; juicy tidbits of hidden ashram life as well as wonderfully moving anecdotes that parallel tracked her rise in the ranks of Gurumayi's inner circles, and the growth in self-esteem that eventually led her to leave it all behind.

But it's the quality of Marta's writing that captivated me most. Her prose is limpid, spare and illuminating. Reading it I thought—maybe when we die our life doesn't flash before us, maybe instead we'll be called upon to tell our story ourselves, once for all time. If so, this is the voice I would hope to speak in; clear-eyed, unstinting, invoking neither self-justification nor blame.

I still don't feel I'm doing "The Guru Looked Good" justice; if you haven't read it I hope you will.

Some of you have begun posting your own stories in the comments section. I've found them all equally moving. I hope anyone who wants to share their stories will use this forum to do so. Just tell it like it was, and is, for you. All are welcome.

The Last Downward Dog (for now)

Well, well, as I wrote in the comments thread to the previous post, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned sex scandal to bring all of us Disenchanted folk together for a reunion. If you're jonesing for more on the John Friend/Anusara Yoga implosion, check out the links over there that helpful (and totally well-meaning!) gossips have posted--pssst, don't miss the link to the Daily Beast article on Friend's naughty, all-female Wiccan sex coven. As Friend's complications continue to unfold I'll monitor the sitch to see if any merit a new post. In the meantime, here's a brand new shiny comments thread for Anusara watchers to play in.

Tucked in among the comments to the last post were a number that shared stories of SY ashram days long past, or recently fled. More to the RoD point, I think—especially as these contain info on the recent whereabouts of our Nearly Departed One. The next post will take up that thread.

WORST. YOGA. PHOTO. EVER.

Yoga Dork's excellent run-down on the accusations against John Friend, as well as links to a timeline of the scandal, can be found here. I'm posting this separately from the Elephant Friend interview (below) as I think the issues of what went down and how he is now handling the fall out in the press merit separate threads for discussion.

 Have at it yogis, yoginis and foregoinis!

John Friend Invents New Asana (open mouth, insert both feet)

Posting the content of the "Elephant" website interview with Friend below. It can be found here, although you must be a member to read any further than the first page, or to access the page more than once.

From where I sit it looks as if Friend has had the benefit of a good deal of "media training" (read PR coaching) as he certainly seems to be master of the lawerly apology-that-admits-nothing-concrete. What do you all think?


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5 Questions for Anusara Yoga’s John Friend regarding “jfexposed” anonymous accusations.

You and I go back for a few years. I like and respect you, as many of us do. That said, there’s obviously a situation here that’s serious, in that it affects people and, since that jfexposed exposé web site and then Yogadork’s blog has had much of the yoga world talking.

I hope you regard the below as tough questions that give you an opportunity to respond as fully as you are able. I acknowledge that there are legal issues that may prevent full answers in some cases, but here are the questions.

So I’d like to ask you five succinct questions.

These questions are important beyond the specific circumstances of what that web site alleged, in that this entire situation, it is my hope, can best serve the international yoga community as an example of honesty, transparency, learning from difficult “teaching moments,” and how we as a community can rise above gossip and rumor, and communicate to one another ethically and with sourced facts. This is why, until now, the only thing elephant has reported on is why we’re not reporting on this situation–until we have non-anonymous/agenda-driven public sources. This is what the NY Times’ Public Editor does, for example.

Reporting gossip and anonymous accusations that hurt real human beings isn’t what we do. This is how we do it: we aspire to deal with difficult situations with patience, guts, transparency, fairness and compassion. We as a community don’t chase gossip. This isn’t fun for anyone, but it can be an opportunity to show the wider world how we deal with crisis and scandal by example.

One final pre-ramble: elephant is not afraid of controversy, and we do not hold ourselves above any other media out there. We simply are aspiring to do responsible journalism—a craft and tradition I respect and aspire to practice. But in situations like this it’s important.

You understand I have to ask tough questions, and in so doing will do you and everyone concerned, on all sides, some small favor by giving this situation some air and light. If I’m accused of being a sycophant here, no one will respect a word you offer.

SITUATION
1. The situation is this: many of your senior teachers—Darren Rhodes, Christina Sell, Elena Brower, Amy Ippoliti, Laura Christensen, have resigned from Anusara over the past few months. We talked about that, you and I, here. Then, on Friday morning, this jfexposed web site, an anonymous web site alleging all sorts of things that we’ll get into here, appeared online. It was quickly passed around the yoga community. When I received it, I was depressed by the material in it, particularly the explicit photos, and asked my friends to stop passing it around. Clearly this was something serious that should be treated as more than gossip or entertainment.

The web site, which was hosted internationally so it was legally difficult to get taken down, alleged various things:
a) that you’d had various relationships, affairs with married women who in some cases have children.
b) That you had run some sort of corrupt pension scheme, which we detail in some legal context here.
c) that you smoked pot and had it shipped around
d) It showed graphic photos (with no face, so seemingly not adding anything to Mr. or Ms. Anonymous’ accusations, and skype screenshots of your conversations).

When I saw this I couldn’t help but think of these women’s families.

FIRST QUESTION
So the first question is, why should anyone care about this interview, when the last time I interviewed you about those teachers leaving, you were not fully honest about why they were leaving?

~

John Friend: First of all, thank you, Waylon, for giving me an opportunity to present my truth in the face of these accusations.

This has been such a painful time for me as I self-reflect on how my personal decisions within my private life have become a source of deep anguish for my friends and community.

I am so deeply sorry for any harm that my actions have caused anyone.

I appreciate the opportunity to clear the record today since not all of the accusations were true, and yet they were posted on the internet six days ago without any verification. These are complicated issues about private matters involving many innocent people, and I will be as open and transparent as I can be. So, again, thank you Waylon for being the first person in the media to ask me about the truth in this matter. Thank you for being patient and waiting for the facts, the truth.

So, to answer your first question, every teacher has their own unique reason for moving on. When you asked me why the teachers left Anusara Yoga in the last few months, I shared with you the official reasons each teacher shared with me. Unequivocally, I can say that none of these teachers told me they were leaving because of these accusations or a problem with my ethical behavior. Every teacher has their own path, and I honor that wholly. I am grateful for the teachers who are standing behind the teachings of Anusara Yoga during this tender moment in time.

~

SECOND QUESTION
WTF? I’m not personally concerned with your relationships, or the relationships of the women who were outed on this web site. That’s not my business, or the business of my readers. I’m not very concerned with the wicca/witch/coven/tantra stuff, I personally find religion generally to be full of wonderful and rich myth and tradition. The Bible, for example, has all kinds of fantastic stories and rites or rituals in it.

But what is our business is ethics, and as a spiritual teacher and leader you are of course held to a higher standard. That said, we’re all adults here and the relationships were consensual, I understand. No one should be put on a pedestal as “perfect” only to be torn down. I don’t worship you, or anyone, and we all need to take responsibility for our own actions. That said, there is a power differential in any kind of intimate relationship between a student and a certified teacher. And while you’re not a medical professional, you have described yourself as a guru.

We all make mistakes. That said, how do you explain your actions, when obviously they have resulted in confusion, pain, and broken families?

~

John Friend: Waylon, first off, I do not use the term “Guru” to describe myself, and work hard to stay away from being so designated. Above all, I am a student of life and yoga, and then a teacher, and the founder of Anusara Yoga.

Secondly, it’s true. Over the course of my private life I have had consenting sexual relationships with women, some of whom have been my students and also my employees, some of which included married women.

It’s not fair for me to explain the intimate details of each relationship in a public forum, nor do I want to further violate the privacy of others as has been the case by this malicious attack. The most important thing to say here is I made some mistakes, yet my intent was never to do harm.

But as the details are spread across the internet, I see clearly where I can rise up as a man, and walk differently in my relationships with women.

~

THIRD QUESTION
Why is whomever is behind jfexposed accused you of all of this? Various web sites have been approached by him/her for some time now, s/he’s been trying to get her/his version of the story out there. Why is s/he seeking some sort of revenge? Are you suing her/him? What’s the overall situation?

~
John Friend: I do not know the motivations behind the viciousness of the attacks. It is clear to me that he has chosen to attack in a malicious, indiscriminate, and likely illegal way, which has been so hurtful and damaging to so many innocent people.

It should be noted that neither Anusara nor I have ever been in a lawsuit.

Lastly, I am practicing compassion for this guy, although very difficult, and yet I have no hate. I only pray for peace and healing for all.

~

FOURTH QUESTION
Pension? Below our readers will see a legal document exonerating Anusara of accusations of impropriety. But what’s the story with that, from your pov?

~

John Friend: As you can see from the following documents and public statements, here is the entire story regarding the pension.

> Pension Documents here.

~

FIFTH AND FINAL QUESTION
Going forward, on a personal level, how are you going to wake up and grow as a human being? Has this situation helped?

On a professional level—if it’s possible to separate the two as perhaps the world’s most famous and successful yoga teacher—do you have a career left? Will you be teaching? What’s going to happen with your community? Are more senior teachers going to leave? Will you be leading teacher trainings over the next 12 months?

On a greater community level, how can we all use this as a learning experience for how to rise above gossip and yet still be painfully, bravely transparent both as individuals, as a community, and in elephant’s case, as media?

~

John Friend: This is quite the one question!

…Study and practice is my life, and teaching is my dharma, which brings me the greatest joy.

I am awake to choices I have made that have opened the door for others to question who I am, and I know this is ultimately a gift. I am committed to being transparent and open, which I have not always been. To this end, I am fully evolving as a man, teacher and friend in the community and on this planet.

For the community, my deepest hope is this brings us closer together, in a more intimate and honest conversation around life. Some students and teachers will inevitably decide to move on, others will become more involved and take an expanded leadership role within the Anusara organization.

So, I envision the future of Anusara as including greater cooperation from all of our community.

We must all remember that any mis-steps by me do not invalidate any of the greatness of the Anusara yoga method.

I bravely step into the person I am today, and I am becoming in every moment. At once this is both deeply humbling and also a gift.

~

My best wishes and compassion to all involved. Thanks, John, for sitting down for these difficult questions.

I understand this situation is fully within a legal context and expect that you will be somewhat limited in your ability to answer. [editor's note: John and his friends did not ask me to get rid of any questions or say they couldn't answer anything above]. That’s not my concern. My job is to ask the questions thoroughly and fairly. I hope I’ve done that, and offer this interview in service to enlightened society.

I don’t personally find that exposed site fair, kind or helpful to you, the other persons concerned, or even the accuser. I think any of us could be exposed in such a way, with 80% being true and 20% agenda-driven anonymous stuff poisoning the lot. However, I do hope that site and yogadork’s report, and now this interview, plus your statement and document re: pension exoneration can ultimately be helpful.

We all need to learn to be more transparent and, as students, less caught up in rockstar syndrome. We can all embrace empowered non-theism as we Buddhists call it, and be kinder to one another as a community.

Deep breath! And deep bow to all concerned.

Yours in service as the ultimate smile,

Waylon

Friend With Benefits

As some of you may know, John Friend, founder of Anusara yoga and once a regular hatha yoga fixture at Shree Muktananda ashram, stepped down this past week due to sexual impropriety with students. I'm reproducing the New York Times article in this post below, as it details Baba Muktananda's sexual scandals as evidence of the prevalence of this kind of abuse by gurus and yogic teachers. Friend is not the first Siddha Yoga affiliated figure to follow Baba's lead, of course, we first had to suffer through the extremely oily dealings of George Afif, and subsequently, Ram Butler.

I'll keep posting news of the Friend scandal as it unfolds.

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Yoga and Sex Scandals: No Surprise Here

The wholesome image of yoga took a hit in the past few weeks as a rising star of the discipline came tumbling back to earth. After accusations of sexual impropriety with female students, John Friend, the founder of Anusara, one of the world’s fastest-growing styles, told followers that he was stepping down for an indefinite period of “self-reflection, therapy and personal retreat.”

Mr. Friend preached a gospel of gentle poses mixed with openness aimed at fostering love and happiness. But Elena Brower, a former confidante, has said that insiders knew of his “penchant for women” and his love of “partying and fun.” 

Few had any idea about his sexual indiscretions, she added. The apparent hypocrisy has upset many followers. 

“Those folks are devastated,” Ms. Brower wrote in The Huffington Post. “They’re understandably disappointed to hear that he cheated on his girlfriends repeatedly” and “lied to so many.”

But this is hardly the first time that yoga’s enlightened facade has been cracked by sexual scandal. Why does yoga produce so many philanderers? And why do the resulting uproars leave so many people shocked and distraught? 

One factor is ignorance. Yoga teachers and how-to books seldom mention that the discipline began as a sex cult — an omission that leaves many practitioners open to libidinal surprise.

Hatha yoga — the parent of the styles now practiced around the globe — began as a branch of Tantra. In medieval India, Tantra devotees sought to fuse the male and female aspects of the cosmos into a blissful state of consciousness. 

The rites of Tantric cults, while often steeped in symbolism, could also include group and individual sex. One text advised devotees to revere the female sex organ and enjoy vigorous intercourse. Candidates for worship included actresses and prostitutes, as well as the sisters of practitioners.

Hatha originated as a way to speed the Tantric agenda. It used poses, deep breathing and stimulating acts — including intercourse — to hasten rapturous bliss. In time, Tantra and Hatha developed bad reputations. The main charge was that practitioners indulged in sexual debauchery under the pretext of spirituality. 

Early in the 20th century, the founders of modern yoga worked hard to remove the Tantric stain. They devised a sanitized discipline that played down the old eroticism for a new emphasis on health and fitness. 

B. K. S. Iyengar, the author of “Light on Yoga,” published in 1965, exemplified the change. His book made no mention of Hatha’s Tantric roots and praised the discipline as a panacea that could cure nearly 100 ailments and diseases. And so modern practitioners have embraced a whitewashed simulacrum of Hatha. 

But over the decades, many have discovered from personal experience that the practice can fan the sexual flames. Pelvic regions can feel more sensitive and orgasms more intense.

Science has begun to clarify the inner mechanisms. In Russia and India, scientists have measured sharp rises in testosterone — a main hormone of sexual arousal in both men and women. Czech scientists working with electroencephalographs have shown how poses can result in bursts of brainwaves indistinguishable from those of lovers. More recently, scientists at the University of British Columbia have documented how fast breathing — done in many yoga classes — can increase blood flow through the genitals. The effect was found to be strong enough to promote sexual arousal not only in healthy individuals but among those with diminished libidos.

In India, recent clinical studies have shown that men and women who take up yoga report wide improvements in their sex lives, including enhanced feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as well as emotional closeness with partners. 

At Rutgers University, scientists are investigating how yoga and related practices can foster autoerotic bliss. It turns out that some individuals can think themselves into states of sexual ecstasy — a phenomenon known clinically as spontaneous orgasm and popularly as “thinking off.”

The Rutgers scientists use brain scanners to measure the levels of excitement in women and compare their responses with readings from manual stimulation of the genitals. The results demonstrate that both practices light up the brain in characteristic ways and produce significant rises in blood pressure, heart rate and tolerance for pain — what turns out to be a signature of orgasm.

Since the baby boomers discovered yoga, the arousal, sweating, heavy breathing and states of undress that characterize yoga classes have led to predictable results. In 1995, sex between students and teachers became so prevalent that the California Yoga Teachers Association deplored it as immoral and called for high standards. 

“We wrote the code,” Judith Lasater, the group’s president, told a reporter, “because there were so many violations going on.” 

If yoga can arouse everyday practitioners, it apparently has similar, if not greater, effects on gurus — often charming extroverts in excellent physical condition, some enthusiastic for veneration.

The misanthropes among them offer a bittersweet tribute to yoga’s revitalizing powers. A surprising number, it turns out, were in their 60s and 70s. 

Swami Muktananda (1908-82) was an Indian man of great charisma who favored dark glasses and gaudy robes. At the height of his fame, around 1980, he attracted many thousands of devotees — including movie stars and political celebrities — and succeeded in setting up a network of hundreds of ashrams and meditation centers around the globe. He kept his main shrines in California and New York.

In late 1981, when a senior aide charged that the venerated yogi was in fact a serial philanderer and sexual hypocrite who used threats of violence to hide his duplicity, Mr. Muktananda defended himself as a persecuted saint, and soon died of heart failure. 

Joan Bridges was one of his lovers. At the time, she was 26 and he was 73. Like many other devotees, Ms. Bridges had a difficult time finding fault with a man she regarded as a virtual god beyond law and morality. 

“I was both thrilled and confused,” she said of their first intimacy in a Web posting. “He told us to be celibate, so how could this be sexual? I had no answers.” 

To denounce the philanderers would be to admit years of empty study and devotion. So many women ended up blaming themselves. Sorting out the realities took years and sometimes decades of pain and reflection, counseling and psychotherapy. In time, the victims began to fight back. 

Swami Satchidananda (1914-2002) was a superstar of yoga who gave the invocation at Woodstock. In 1991, protesters waving placards (“Stop the Abuse,” “End the Cover Up”) marched outside a Virginia hotel where he was addressing a symposium. “How can you call yourself a spiritual instructor,” a former devotee shouted from the audience, “when you have molested me and other women?”

Another case involved Swami Rama (1925-96), a tall man with a strikingly handsome face. In 1994, one of his victims filed a lawsuit charging that he had initiated abuse at his Pennsylvania ashram when she was 19. In 1997, shortly after his death, a jury awarded the woman nearly $2 million in compensatory and punitive damages. 

So, too, former devotees at Kripalu, a Berkshires ashram, won more than $2.5 million after its longtime guru — a man who gave impassioned talks on the spiritual value of chastity — confessed to multiple affairs. 

The drama with Mr. Friend is still unfolding. So far, at least 50 Anusara teachers have resigned, and the fate of his enterprise remains unclear. In his letter to followers, he promised to make “a full public statement that will transparently address the entirety of this situation.”The angst of former Anusara teachers is palpable. “I can no longer support a teacher whose actions have caused irreparable damage to our beloved community,” Sarah Faircloth, a North Carolina instructor, wrote on her Web site.

But perhaps — if students and teachers knew more about what Hatha can do, and what it was designed to do — they would find themselves less prone to surprise and unyogalike distress.

.

So sad. So terribly, terribly sad even after all this time.

I Can't Believe I'm Doing This

I'm viewing the New Year's slideshow on the SYDA site, listening to Raga Taranga for the first time in  what seems like many years. It is bittersweet to hear that melody and see again those photos of the South Fallsburg ashram, to indulge in the remembrance of the many years we spent there together, the thousand and one magical summer nights, the cold winter days blanketed with snow and ice but warm, so warm inside the temple, wrapped in our shawls, breathing in unison as we sang the arati and followed with avid eyes the arc of flame circling before Bade Baba's murti.

This is pure nostalgia, yes, but I feel myself wanting to give in to its spell. Perhaps disenchantment is not a permanent state after all but, like grace, one which can both be attained and fallen from.

It wasn't Eden, but we were once all together, doing japa as we strolled around the lake in Fallsburg, meditating in the gardens of Ganeshpuri, exulting in our communal state of grace (so we once believed.) And this is not exile, but we are far apart now, living separate existences and dealing with the consequences of the fall of Siddha Yoga. "In this vale of tears", in the words of an old prayer.

Maybe it's also a consequence of getting older. Probably. It's true that I've begun to feel the mass of years piling up. I've reached that point when I understand viscerally, not just intellectually, that I have less time ahead than behind me. When you're young life is one long projecting arc, the flame of a rocket trailing always upwards. You can see the horizon of your life but it is a faint and distant line way below, almost an illusion that seems to constantly recede as you approach it, and you are sailing up and away far, far above it.

After all those years of burning fuel and hurtling ahead, how strange now to want to arrest that arc, turn it backwards. That's the impetus behind nostalgia, this need to throw your arms around the past as well as the present in order to embrace the full span of your years. At least it is for me. And when I start to feel this way it seems an act of complete wastefulness to discard so many memories simply because I no longer believe now as I did then.

Because faith and practice are what bound us Siddha Yogis together, they can seem the sum and substance of those years, and the dissolution of faith and abandonment of practice call into question the value and meaning of decades of our lives. If so, this is terribly sad.

Maybe there is a further shore of disenchantment, where the rejection of belief is final and where our hearts, having done the hard work of healing, can now begin to reclaim the sweetness of memory. It's not so different from the dissolution of a long relationship--you know you're finally and truly over them when you can look back and enjoy memories of the good times.

I'm not speaking here of Gurumayi, necessarily, but of our memories of one another. Maybe I'm alone in this. I have had a life long tendency to forget the past and live in the present, so this looking back is a new thing for me. I remember so many friends I've loved in Siddha Yoga, many of whom stayed when I left, complicating what had always been such simple friendships. I miss them terribly.

RESURRECTION!

The last time I checked RoD was two weeks ago and everything was quiet on the Western front, as the old folks used to say. Imagine my surprise to visit today and see some 70+ comments on the last post. Granted, more then a few of them were dups (ahem, AMPA) which I have laboriously deleted down to their originals, but still a lively discussion on multiple fronts has obviously sprung back to life here.

I'm particularly pleased that the innie/outtie debate is not one of these. What a fun food fight we all had over at Salon! Now that it has finally wound down, though, it's great to have this place all to ourselves. (As always, current SY practitioners are welcome here. As always, none but the most intrepid seem to ever comment out of fear of being put on 'the list'. Who is left in SF to maintain said dreaded list is an open question! Nevertheless, it seems just us outties milling around here.)

There are several dominant themes that have emerged in the comments to the last post, and rather than reply to them there, I thought I'd tease two of these out further by making them the subject of a new post:

1. artsquiggle commented that his attention has turned from SY to his practical life which, partly as a result of his many years of practice, has been "left in shambles". Another reader seconded that emotion:

• "My practical life went down the tubes. cannot get back those 25 + years of endless exhausting seva and every last nickel I had of dakshina spent while I should have been developing a career. The opprotunity cost of spending the most productive years of your life in Siddha Yoga, astronomical. Lately there are many anniversaries, retirements, celebrations of accomplishment to attend, not for me. I cringe to think of how with all the talent, energy I had when I came to Siddha Yoga in my early twenties, I managed to not establish myself securely. No, I burned it all up, flushed it down the toilet of a complete charade." 

2. AMPA writes that his wife has fallen into a deep depression over G's disappearing act:

• "My wife survives on my very sufficient income and other resources rather nicely. BUT, the survival of her SELF-IDENTITY is still utterly dependent on Siddha Yoga. Her despondency on the state of the "path" and the unavailability of Malti to her adoring devotees, makes her utterly, crushingly depressed. Everything has suffered as a result of it in our family life. She is often totally unclear in her thinking, her judgement and discernment are often utterly clouded, her ability to think sharply is now totally dulled and so is her former ability to get things done quickly. It's like she's moving in slow motion and I know it's only partially based on physical fatigue. The emotional fatigue and baggage Malti has left her with, is painfully sad to watch. I feel so good to be free of any dependency on the Guru anymore. And I watch her, in her despair, and it makes me despair for her." 

These are both issues that all of us are dealing with in greater or lesser ways. For instance, I just applied for a job at a major non-profit and was asked to provide evidence of my prior volunteer commitments. How, I wondered, could I not list Siddha Yoga? I have literally spent years in 'selfless service' to the Guru and the path; my bona fides for giving back should be spotless. But, then again, how can I reference those years, what actual value did they have beyond enriching a fleecing charlatan now fled? Even if I bucked up and tried to spin that experience into something useful to humanity, who is around to verify all that work? Who could I possibly list as a contact? Of course, I have it relatively easy compared to many, many others; I held a job 'in-the-world' throughout my many years of practice. Those who were on the 'inside' and are now out face a much tougher dilemma since their primary experience of work--in what is rapidly being recognized as a cult--is in danger of being called into question.

Please, if you have made this transition from on-staff to in-the-world work, consider posting your experience here. Many people like Anon above are struggling to re-establish themselves in a tough job market, with little or no savings, and real questions about how to craft their 'seva' into relevant experience an employer will value. I think it is very important, as well, that we re-affirm for each other that what seems like wasted effort now was truly was truly important work to the community of believers at the time. None of the wonderful experiences we still cherish of our time in SY could have happened without the 'endless exhausting seva' of the ashram staff.

Finally, the issue of depression caused by the dissolution of belief in SY. Some of us, like AMPA, have loved ones who are still tenaciously clinging to belief despite the obvious (to us) slow-death of the Siddha path. But, as Older but Wiser observed, if we are honest with ourselves we've all gone through depression over the dying of what we thought was our light. I still struggle with it from time to time. There is no replacement for the feelings of certainty, security and absolute safety that a global belief system like Siddha Yoga provides. If we don't jump to another belief system, if we are now mostly allergic to belief systems, we're thrown back onto our own resources. We're left trusting in only ourselves during a time in life and in an economy when so much seems so precarious. It is scary. We need each other to get through this.

Waving Adieu, Adieu, Adieu

An idol of Lord Ganesha is hoisted by a crane into Hussainsagar Lake in Hyderabad on September 22, 2010.


That would be waving and that would be crying,
Crying and shouting and meaning farewell,
Farewell in the eyes and farewell at the centre,
Just to stand still without moving a hand.

In a world without heaven to follow, the stops
Would be endings, more poignant than partings, profounder,
And that would be saying farewell, repeating farewell,
Just to be there and just to behold.

To be one's singular self, to despise
The being that yielded so little, acquired
So little, too little to care, to turn
To the ever-jubilant weather, to sip

One's cup and never to say a word,
Or to sleep or just to lie there still,
Just to be there, just to be beheld,
That would be bidding farewell, be bidding farewell.

One likes to practice the thing. They practice,
Enough, for heaven. Ever-jubilant,
What is there here but weather, what spirit
Have I except it comes from the sun?

--wallace stevens

When Kristians Attempt Kriyas

The demon-obsessed members of a church in Texas prove you don't need shaktipat to shake, rattle and roll in worship. Go on and fast-forward through the thoroughly uninspiring woman screaming at the beginning of this clip; my fave part comes 48 seconds in when a man appears to be trying to vomit up the mother of all hairballs as his children sit bored-out-of-their-gourds alongside. And you thought YOU had it bad as a hall monitor:

Because We Finally Heard, Never More Another Word

Since we are inventing letters from Gurumayi's pen, why not music videos from her playlist?

Because we all once loved each other so well.

Because we never will again.

Because it was all just smoke and shadows in the end.

Because. Because. Because. Because..

Comments Are Now Unmoderated on RoD

Giving this a whirl, so let's try to play nice. Trolls will have their comments deleted and be banned from coming out from under their bridges ever again.

HOUSEKEEPING: Ignore Comments Too Large Warnings from Blogger

I get these too when I comment, and I've learned to ignore them because my comments always go through in their entirety. Of course, I can check on that instantly, while you all have to wonder until I post your comment. So, wonder no more. It is a Blogger glitch and I am in contact with them to see if it somehow only affects RoD, or if it is part of a comprehensive "upgrade" that blogger recently made to tie it more tightly to evil Google.

So, no need to cut and paste and resubmit into several different comments. And there is certainly no need to edit yourself to avoid having your comment be "too big". This ain't the home of the 45 second experience share, folks. Have at it.

What We Who Have Left Would Ask of You Who Stay

This is a letter I submitted to Salon this morning after they briefly re-opened submissions to the comments page of their article on Siddha Yoga. It has not gone up on the site; perhaps they are again monitoring new letters before posting them, given the huge number of submissions they have already published:

Siddha Yoga may be a house divided, but I still think there is a chance that those who left and those who have stayed can stake out some middle ground. It is in the best interest of both sides to do so. Many of us who have abandoned our practice still seek some kind of permanent closure to a chapter in our lives that ended as abruptly as it once began with the "big bang" of our shaktipat experience. And those who have remained are an embattled minority struggling with the same issues that caused the rest of us to leave--only they cannot talk freely and openly about their fears, doubts and questions, because of the culture of secrecy that surrounds everything having to do with the Siddha Guru.

What is needed is an honest, open dialogue minus the kind of invective that plagued many of the letters here (however slim the chance for that may be.) If we could all sit down and have that heart-to-heart, here are the hard questions I would ask of those who continue to practice.

The first big question I have is: how do you deal emotionally with the fact that Gurumayi has disappeared? She has not been seen in public since New Year's Day 2004--which is just a few months shy of the time required before a person is declared legally dead. In a spiritual path dedicated to the worship of the living perfected master (and whatever else Siddha Yoga is, it is certainly that) this is a crushing blow. Particularly given that the "official" position of the SYDA Foundation is to pretend this never happened. In this very article in Salon they write:

"For almost three decades, Gurumayi Chidvilasananda, the spiritual head of the Siddha Yoga path, has guided students through her teachings."

This is a pretty piece of propaganda. Notice that they do not say Gurumayi is still in an active teaching role, rather, she guides "through her teachings." This kind of obfuscation is shameful, and you who remain faithful certainly deserve better. So, the second thing I would ask is:

How do you justify to yourself that SYDA refuses to explain where Gurumayi is, why she retired from an active role, and when, if ever, she will resume her role as Guru? Is it because you truly do find her guidance within in the form of the "inner Guru"? And has this need to accept her disappearance without any official explanation fueled your inner quest, strengthened your identification with the inner Guru, or does it ever rankle, does it ever make you question the path?

Finally, whenever SYDA is forced to address the question of the future of Siddha Yoga, it never, ever mentions Gurumayi. Instead, it performs a neat sleight of hand, inserting itself in place of the Guru with uninspiring formulations that only a lawyer could love, such as:

"The purpose of the SYDA Foundation is to protect, preserve and disseminate the teachings... for future generations."

Who are these future generations, and why do they take precedence over the current generation of young people who were orphaned by the Guru before they were old enough to understand that loss? You know, the teenagers and young adults who learned of the Guru from their mother's knees, who sat beside her chair during darshan, the fresh young faces whom Gurumayi once claimed she was concentrating on teaching? Do you remember when Gurumayi told us old-timers during her last Labor Day talk in Fallsburg that "your begging bowls are full" and it was now time to turn her attention to the next generation? Except that she didn't. Can you remember subsequent summers in South Fallsburg full of programs for young people, special Intensives held exclusively for the under 21 set, courses designed especially to help teenagers and young adults apprehend and communicate the teachings? No, of course not, because they never happened. Outside of a few satsangs that Gurumayi held for the children of ashram residents and, of course, a few treacly children's books and tapes, this new flowering of Siddha Yoga died on the vine.

I guess it all comes down to this: if your own children are growing up without the Siddha Guru, how do you imagine that future generations will be attracted to become her disciples?

Just Living is Enough

NOTE: the following letter is from the Salon webpage dedicated to SYDA's response to the recent article on Gurumayi and Eat, Pray, Love. I'm reposting it here because as I read it, I wondered if maybe I had written it myself while sleepwalking, it so encapsulates my experience. Thank you, Lucid 2010 for so eloquently stating what so many of us have gone through, finally putting the path in our rear view mirrors.

just living is enough

I began my slow departure from SY the day after Gurumayi delivered her 2004 New Year’s address. My exit wasn’t dramatic and didn't occur overnight. It took years to become involved with SY and its taken years to move away. The fact that I’m reading and posting in forums like this tells me I’m still going through the process.

My main reason for leaving? The short answer is one day I finally felt strong enough to stop suppressing my intuition and listen to what the voice inside me had been trying to tell me for years: despite the wonders of the path and my largely positive experience, there was something sinister at SY's core.

I decided I no longer needed to know, see, or have some traumatic “direct experience” of what was rotten about SY. I decided it was more important to honor myself, my intuition and the voice I’d tried so hard to silence that kept telling me it was time to go.

It’s wrenching having to end your relationship with the ultimate parent, let alone discard your entire spiritual belief system. It is a death, to be sure. I was a shell for a year. But gradually I re-grew from the inside out and am back living comfortably in the world now, both feet on the ground.

It’s funny, “the world” was the term we used to use whenever we referred to anything outside of SY. All the mishaps and human foibles that occurred in “the world” provided Gurumayi with an endless stream of anecdotes for her talks. And we all laughed right along with her because we were all in on the joke. Though we did feel pity for all those poor souls out there who were still “asleep," we also knew we had been blessed. We were the lucky ones who understood the difference between life in “the world” and life with the guru. And in SY there was never any question about which was the better side to be on.

But, for all it’s horrors and yes, joys too, now I’m back out here I’m kinda digging it. My day-to-day existence is no longer dominated by some belief system I must incessantly adhere to in order to avoid dropping off into the abyss of delusion. The world isn’t a bubble that can be ruptured. The world isn’t a sets of beliefs that can be threatened by an article at a website, or shattered by some secret someone's hiding.

The world is too old and too big for all that.

Once I got some distance from my SY experience, and reached a middle point somewhere between true believer and total skeptic, the entire thing became far more fascinating to me than when I was involved. For me, the whole SY phenomenon is far more interesting when viewed from where I am today (halfway through my life, having traveled, worked for a cultish corporation or two, and become a parent) vs. where I was when I encountered SY (a depressed teenager, desperate for a “way out,” open to/with absolutely no frame of reference for anything).

When you are in SY you can spot others who have “met Gurumayi” (a designation, by the way, which doesn’t require having actaully met her in person). Today, although it’s rare when I run into someone I recognize from my SY days, I can always tell whether or not they’re still practicing. It’s a guru-dar that apparently continues working even after you become a non-believer. People who’ve practiced SY intensely long-term have those unmistakable “ashram eyes.” It’s a look that privately spooked me even when I was involved in SY, but back then I told myself everyone had their own personal relationship with the shakti – some more intense than others – and I tried not to judge.

But what I notice now when I encounter these people today is the disconnect. And I’m talking here about devotees who’ve spent 15+ years in SY, lived in ashram, done tons of seva. Devotees who’ve been through all the wars and still stayed committed. For all their dedication, to me, kind and thoughtful as may be, these people seem less “present” not more. Even when I was in SY, the hard-core “sevittes” as we called them, seemed to in no way emulate their guru. For reasons I could never find the answers to, her good qualities didn't seem to rub off on them. Gurumayi supposedly embodied ultimate example everyone was aiming for, yet the entire time I was in SY I never met any long-term devotee who was anything like her. (And by her, I mean Gurumayi’s public persona, which is all I ever saw, and all the positive attributes that came with it.)

It’s a challenge to have much of a conversation with anyone still in SY. Heck, it was a challenge when I was in SY, if the topic of conversation wasn't in some way related to Gurumayi. There is now of course the elephant in the room that they’re still in SY and I’m not – something neither side can speak about. But mainly, because we’re no longer both on the same path, there simply isn’t much to say.

I have no regrets whatsoever about my participation in SY. I had to learn what I had to learn and there are far worse things I could have done with my time.

Would I let my own child go anywhere near SY, or something like it today?

No way in hell.

I’ve not read all of “Eat, Pray, Love” and won’t see the movie. There was a time in my life I’d have been first in line for both but now I have no interest in either beyond the conversation that’s occurring here.

I don’t meditate, chant or pray anymore.

Just living is enough.

Why 'Eat, Pray, Love' means you'll never see Gurumayi again

Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir Eat, Pray, Love is currently #1 on the New York Times non-fiction paperback best-seller list. It has been on top of the list for an astounding 183 weeks in a row. Last week the movie version starring America's sweetheart Julia Roberts opened in U.S. theatres, grossing nearly $30 million in its first four days alone. Eat, Pray, Love may have debuted in the number two slot at the box office behind Sylvester Stallone's Expendables, but it is doing very well for what is essentially a chick flick and industry experts predict it will gross well over $100 million dollars worldwide.

Of course, the "chick" of most interest to us in this flick is the guru whom Gilbert visits in India—the focus of the central "Pray" storyline. Gilbert never mentions her guru by name, but both the book and movie give enough identifying details to make plain that it is Gurumayi. As Riddhi Shah notes in the recent Salon article about Siddha Yoga's connection to the film, there are only so many female gurus in India who require daily chanting of the Guru Gita at their ashram in a small village outside of Mumbai. And who served as translator for their guru before ascending to the chair in their early twenties. It's not hard to do the math.

So, if Siddha Yoga and Gurumayi are the focus of the most successful publishing and movie phenomenon of the decade, why is the SYDA Foundation trying so hard to hide this fact? It's not as if Gilbert's account of her time in India is negative. Quite to the contrary, her glowingly positive experience has moved hundreds of thousands of people worldwide, awakening a hunger for authentic Eastern spirituality, Siddha Yoga style.

The first hint that SYDA was running from the connection between Gurumayi and Eat, Pray, Love came in a comment to this blog around the time of Gurumayi's birthday celebration this year. On June 25th, Anon wrote:

One writer...posted a Facebook greeting in celebration of 'the Birthday,' and referred in these offerings of love to 'the One I cannot name' (without the slightest touch of irony, Potter-wise). When asked to explain, the response was: 'Many of my Facebook friends are of a community that have the same Guru, and they lived in or visited the ashram I lived in for 20 years. Many of us have been asked by the Guru's foundation to not use her name, or the name of the path, in our own writings. It is a way of preserving the purity of the path, instead of letting it be seen or judged by what others say about it.'

Then, on August 8th, just in advance of Eat, Pray, Love's film release, SYDA issued a letter to the global sangham, stating in no uncertain terms that:

"The film is not a representation of the Siddha Yoga Path, and the SYDA Foundation has not been involved in the production of the film."

Why, you must be asking, would SYDA lie about something so simple to check? And why their insistence that current Siddha Yoga students maintain a vow of silence surrounding Gurumayi? The answers to both questions are simple, but you are not going to like them.

First, they are not lying: the account that Elizabeth Gilbert gave of Siddha Yoga does not represent the path as it is currently practiced. Her experience of a deep, personal soul connection with a living Guru may be achingly familiar to anyone who practiced Siddha Yoga under Baba or Gurumayi's tutelage during the 1970's, 80's or 90's--but those days are long gone and over for good. This is the inescapable meaning of SYDA's statement. It literally makes no sense otherwise. Gurumayi has not been seen in public since New Year's Day 2004--just four months shy of the time required before a person is declared legally dead. The physical Guru--who was the focus, the pole star, the living breathing center, the sine qua non of Siddha Yoga--is no more.

Which is why it makes all the sense in the world that SYDA would forbid Siddha Yoga students from reminiscing about the old days within earshot of a press and public newly eager to learn all about the path in the wake of Eat, Pray, Love. By throwing a veil of secrecy around Gurumayi under the pretense of protecting "the path" from the grubby attentions of outsiders, they are attempting to build a firewall around the past, cordoning and sealing it off from view. After all, nothing would be more inconvenient than for thousands and thousands of newcomers to arrive at the door of Siddha Yoga ashrams and centers around the world breathless for a glimpse of the living Guru when she is never coming back.

Think about it. During Siddha Yoga's expansionist phase under Gurumayi in the early 1990's every single devotee was urged, coached and prodded to share their experience of the path with family and friends. There was even a course dedicated solely to teaching people how to talk to their loved ones about Siddha Yoga. Major satellite Intensives sparked an international effort for Siddha Yoga students to reach out and enroll as many people as possible to come see the Guru, if not in person than via broadcast, and to receive Shaktipat initiation with just one touch, one look, one word from the living Guru. It was not only understood but taught that Siddha Yoga could only grow and fulfill its global mission person-to-person through heart to heart sharing.

But now that Gurumayi has gone missing, SYDA says that it is vitally important that Siddha Yoga students NOT share their experience of the path, going so far as to proscribe them from even using the names Gurumayi or Siddha Yoga in writing so as to preserve the purity of the path, instead of letting it be seen or judged by what others say about it.

You see, there must be a period of retrenchment and reversal, during which Siddha Yoga students are taught to NOT expect a relationship with the physical Guru, but to look for and find her in the teachings instead. This is the meaning behind SYDA's repeated insistence that its core purpose is to protect, preserve and disseminate the teachings for future generations. You only protect and preserve something that is finite in quantity--as in the past speeches and writings of Gurumayi and Baba, because there will not be anymore.

It is the SYDA Foundation that owns the copyright to all the countless hours of audio and video talks, all of Baba's and Gurumayi's books and writings. Siddha Yoga has become a legal fiction. Gurumayi has left the building. The Guru/Disciple relationship is dead. Only SYDA survives and it is doing nothing more than protecting its investment with these stilted, legalese announcements.

But it gets worse. While SYDA may have survived Gurumayi's unspoken abdication, it has no real hope of attracting new students to such a moribund and depressingly circumscribed path. If it did, it would have done everything in its power to capitalize on the Eat, Pray, Love juggernaut. One could imagine SYDA mounting an outreach effort that honestly stated Gurumayi has retired from an active role, but that invited new students to find her in the immutable, ancient teachings of the path. Ah, but there's the rub. The sole thing that made Siddha Yoga unique was not its mediation techniques, or chanting in sanskrit, or its gloss on Kashmir Shaivism (which is taught all over India) but its teachings on the seeker's inescapable need for a living, powerful, charismatic Guru. Like the one Elizabeth Gilbert met once upon a time and wrote so movingly of in her experience share par excellence--Eat, Pray, Love.

Listen. If you are still heroically practicing Siddha Yoga in the absence of its defining "Siddha Guru" you are being cynically exploited by SYDA. The Foundation has become a parasite that feeds off of your love, money and hard work and offers nothing in return but warnings to keep silent about your experiences lest you spoil "the purity of the path," and the empty promise of extending the teachings to future generations---the same teachings that are belied by the ghosts of Gurus past.