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Once, early on, we were gathered to see some of the family off at an airport. When the plane was nearly ready to go, there was a lot of arguing about the huge pile of excess baggage Mataji had brought with her to take back to India.
A choice had to be made between leaving a lot of it behind or paying an enormous amount of over weight baggage costs. Eventually it was sorted.. but I had plenty of time as we all cowered on one sleeping knee or the other (see refs. to samadhic sleeping below) to study facial expression.
I remember feeling quite frightened by the shouting and the thunderous clouds of indignation that I saw across Mtj's face, "bringing the mind true detachment and the death of attachment".
A voice within cried out to just quietly leave, but for some reason I stayed.
Modified by LP at Fri, Apr 07, 2006, 15:05:45
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Right before Hans Jayanti '74 in Toronto, at the rather cold, unfriendly convention centre out by the airport, I was living in the Ottawa ashram and becoming confused, disheartened and restless. I was 21. I went to Toronto for the program and stayed with my mother downtown. I had some cult paraphenalia to protect me (a portable altar replete with red velvet that folded up and looked like a wooden briefcase) but I guess it wasn't enough. I ran into a good friend of mine from my childhood, one of two old friends who first infected me with the Maharaji virus, Steve Winbaum, and, lo and behold, he told me that he had done the unthinkable, he'd left the Winnipeg ashram. He was still a premie, of course, but he'd left the ashram and was planning on staying in Toronto after the program. Hm.... Anyway, I made what was then a frightful, momentous decision. Rather than get back on the bus or whatever it was for Ottawa, I told Stuart McDougall, our community co-ordinator then, that I wasn't going back. I doubt I was able to look him in the eye. I was riddled with guilt. So then I stayed with my mother for the next three months and that, I can see, was the time I could have really gotten out of this thing. (Sounds like I'm talking about the mafia -- "this thing" . Instead, I fell for the shit all over again. Being out of the ashram I was treated with both a little disdain as a weak-willed traitor but also with a little supplication as one the ashram premies would like to win back. I fell for it. I fell for everything. I was a total idiot. (You can tell I've been reading Kurt Vonnegut recently.) I moved into a very hardcore premie house on Chicora St., a place where "pre-ashramies" were warehoused until they were tapped again for the big house. And there I stayed for another three months until Mother Lowther swallowed me up again. Imagine that. 
Anyway, that was the time I could have really gotten out. Check this: my mother even offered to support me fully for a year while I explored making a career of music. Imagine that. Instead I stayed in Chicora, lived with a guy there who'd cut his balls off because he thought it'd make him closer to God (before he ever moved there). Lived with another guy who turned bright orange because of his regular carrot juice fasts. Lived with at least one very sweet hottie who it would have been so much fun to play with were it not for the fact that the only outside R&R we ever allowed ourselves was sipping Celestial Seasonings tea while listening to that Japanese new age electronic composer. What was his name? Did "Snowflakes are Dancing"? At one point we did something really rash. We snuck down to Holi in Miami when, get this, our community was not invited! We even stayed at the same hotel as Rawat and family. I once opened the door for Marolyn, another sweetie I could have had some fun with if there really were universes upon universes. She was joining Rawat and his small entourage out at the large sloop they were sailing on that day. I almost volunteered my services, seeing as I'd been a bit of a sailor in my worldly past. But I didn't. We came back from the Holi paint thing completely blissed out and looking weirder than all get out. Back to this very fancy hotel. Maharaji was everywhere. We were in love. When we got back to Toronto we got royal shit for being so uppity. I had to grovel and wait an extra month or so before Phil Dack our community coordinator felt I was humble enough to come back to the ashram. I was such a stupid worm. Peace.
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BTW, the musician in question is/was(?) named Tomita
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I once got asked to drive an Indian mahatma to a short string of programs. I took my car but on the last leg it developed problems. A beautiful couple at the premie house who had just got married 2 weeks before offered to pay for it. I felt bad about it, suggested we get the ashram to cover it.
They insisted not only on fixing my car but on lending me their bran new car, a wedding gift from the girl's parents. I drove back and no sooner had the mission men at the ashram seen the car, than I was sent straight off again to the airport to go somewhere else.
I was told no car was available so they'd have to use the newly wed's car to get me to the airport. I argued, saying it wasn't mine to lend. They insisted, holding a hand out for the keys, that it would not be driven, and would be waiting for me when i got picked up in a few days.
When I got back another car was waiting to bring me back to the ashram. I pieced the story together once I got there..
The car had been given to a premie (who shall be nameless) to drive around the country on a lightning fund raising circuit.. Turns out he'd been driving it around; seeing how fast it would go! Never put a drop of oil in it. It wasn't even run in!. The engine overheated and seized. It was ruined.
While I protested, trying to identify who had allowed this, I got a phone call, from the newly weds saying my old car was fixed and all paid for.
Telling them what had happened to their car was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.. They were reassuring and told me they had some other put aside they would just have enough for a new engine. This was a hearbreaking experience for, I will never forget those two facesin the bloom of life one minute and broke the next. I wished theyd been looking the other way when the satsang I scream van came down their street.
The mission never showed the least compassion or concern for the incident: in fact everyone seemed quite amused. I spent some time kicking up about saying the mission should but I was dismissed with a surly disdain and a sense of shame for not realising that at every moment the only thing that is important is the service of gm. day and night!
I was treated as weak and sentimental for caring about this couple and their car. To put it into perspective most premie marriages were doomed from the start anyway.
I came then, within a hair's breadth of leaving and never coming back.
ifonly
Modified by LP at Fri, Apr 07, 2006, 20:54:03
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. . . cutting off your balls and turning bright orange was all the rage. What's the matter with you?
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Modified by hamzen at Sat, Apr 08, 2006, 04:19:35
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Hi Jim! Loved your story! Keep reading Kurt Vonnegut! You mentioned Stuart MacDougall! He stayed at my house in the early 80's. Of course at that time I felt very "honored" and was no doubt ridicously fawning, as lowlife premies were meant to be. I remember that I repaired a hole in his sweater, and was very proud of the best bit of darning I had ever done in my life! Maybe he thanked me--I don't remember. WHat I DO remember was asking him about the nectar technique, and would he be able to review that for me. It wasn't working for me the way it apparently worked for all the other people in our community. He looked completely shocked, as though I'd proposed something indecent, and maybe mumbled something that I took to be "helpful advice" that could have been complete nonsense as I look back on this now! It's all very amusing in a certain way--when I'm not hopping mad about it anyway! Other "notable persons" that I hosted in my 'umble abode were Allen Imbaratto, Peggy Hope, and John Horton. Of these, Peggy was the only one who seemed like a real human being. Some stories there, too--but for another time. Ah, them was the days! And so many opportunities to leave--otherwise known as "drips", but like many others, I didn't. I was hooked. And yes, it is an addiction! ~Shelagh
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ah.... 'drips' ....right!.....
Modified by LP at Sat, Apr 08, 2006, 17:29:21
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Drips. I like this topic. It took me back to the events that should have had me not walking, but running away fast and not looking back. I'm not going to list them because I've gone over them many times before. What surprised me in thinking about this topic is that I discovered many more smaller drips than the big traumatic ones, which number about three. Ah, but I was an expert, almost a professional about putting my doubts and fears out of my mind. It was easier to stay than leave. My final drip was a big one in 1999 when I did walk away. I was watching a live feed of Maharaji and he cussed and complained about not getting enough gratitude from premies. It was unconscionable. I walked for good. That was when the constant knot in my stomach over Maharaji started to loosen. I thought about how much I've blamed premies. I've blamed myself and other premies for just about everything that went wrong. I now see that it was wrong-headed thinking. Btw, I didn't respond to a longish post of yours below from last week, and I can't seem to find it now.
Modified by Cynthia at Sun, Apr 09, 2006, 07:21:37
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Hi Cynthia... Re old friends? .. near the end of the brain washing debate? just above Falcon's new thread..Vamps.
Modified by LP at Sun, Apr 09, 2006, 11:42:02
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One of the first things I remember, that didn't sit right:-
I kept hearing people say if gm says a white wall is black: the wall is black.
I felt that I should have been more honest, and told them that I couldn't accept that, but I was too ashamed to admit that I didn't have a hope of attaining that level of devotion.
Besides it went against the logical process of discovery with which I had been approaching the world and the universe prior.
Modified by LP at Sun, Apr 09, 2006, 16:14:14
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response added below...
ps how do you do that cross link thing?
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It's easy. After I made my post to you, I opened it again, copied the address (of my post) from my browser address bar, and pasted it into my post to you above. I could also have pasted it into the "link URL," with a title, but it wasn't necessary. This forum's been so busy, it's easier on the 'ole eyes than searching through this whole page.
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I think I've been seeing post threads in my sleep sometimes...
........I was wondering what to do sometimes. There are several little additives I put in later on (some trivial: some not so), but they end up a long way down the threads, Being knew here and not familiar with forum protocol, nor wanting perhaps to draw attention to any one subject in particular. ...wondering, whether it would be inappropriate to cross ref. some postings, bringing access to the top, of things I wanted to share, but which might have been swept into the past, by appearing already some way down the threads. But might that be seen as narcissistic or egotistical...?
Modified by LP at Tue, Apr 11, 2006, 06:32:27
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wondering, whether it would be inappropriate to cross ref. some postings, bringing access to the top, of things I wanted to share, but which might have been swept into the past, by appearing already some way down the threads. But might that be seen as narcissistic or egotistical...? I don't think so. Sometimes a thread will get lost at the bottom of a page. Besides, it's not narcissistic to want to work these things out. Btw, having a healty ego is a good thing! Maharaji is narcissistic in a big way, not you. LP, you can always start the subject again asking for more comment because you need to examine it more. Please ask for what you need and want. That's definitely allowed. This is about us, us, us!  You have a lot to say and every right to say it. It really helps to get it all out and ask for help/opinions/pov. Cynthia
Modified by Cynthia at Tue, Apr 11, 2006, 13:37:13
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