first let me say what
a difference there is between now and then. back
then, i doubt if i could have so much as asked you
for the honey on the counter at the tea station in
401. i was a nobody, sometimes treated as a
'bongo', never an ashram member, one of the faces
you saw but never had a name to match it to. and
yet i set my life on the altar at my knowledge
session in may of 73 and never wanted to take it
back. i lived the ashram rules even when homeless.
i used them to evade rape when highway hitchiking
to festivals, on semi trucks, going cross country.
i kept them when squatting in abandoned houses with
other homeless premies. i lived in the Shelter from
may to september of 74, even being trusted to run
the place after Amherst, despite not being
officially an Ashram premie. (and it ran like a
sewing machine during my time, i might
add).sophia's chapters reminded me of how inspired
and open and transformed everything was in the
beginnng. her recountng of her crew in maine, their
wanting to buy the house, the being told to give
the money to Millennium instead, made me wonder who
the hell 's idea was that anyway--millennium? it
made me look back, over the numerous times our
innate impulse to do good, out of the change
Knowledge wrought in our perception of life, got
repeatedly derailed, hijacked, subverted and
co-opted to serve something else. her quote from
William James haunts me.
i asked you to read it so that we would have a
common reference point. you say in your response to
me that you have changed in style in 25 years. can
you say, with your hindsight now, how you see what
errors you may have committed in the way you
approached the problem you were brought in to
handle? if you had it to do over again, what would
you have done differently, or not done, in light of
what effects it had on premies?
i remember trying to resolve to change myself to
the new, corporate, DUO way in early 76, dressing
up all office proper and going down to the offices
to do some kind of service,to type some copy for
someone for the day. I was miserable. I was scared.
I felt like a robot, a fraud, a bad actor, sitting
there hearing the phones ring and the type writers
clacking and the suits hustling in and out all day.
I remember giving up in shame and going home and
cracking in my little room, knowing i could not
make the transition.I distinctly felt that there
was no place for me in the 'new' DLM. I had been to
the 5th floor of the kittredge building. i had
liked it up there before. now suddenly it was cold
and unfriendly and a chilling mood of brute
efficiency had come over it. It was rather like
being a child when daddy marries a stranger and the
new regime has no love or warmth anymore, but you
have no other home, and you're too little to run
away. For myself, I distinctly felt that it was not
coming from Maharaj ji. there were people placing
themselves between me and the one iwas there for,
and there was no getting past them.
so now i learn that it was you i can attribute
this change to. and now i can actually talk to you,
one adult to another, with the respect of equals,
and you engage me honestly when i do.
that evening when i went home from DUO and cracked,
knowing i couldn't do it, there came a phone call
late at night. my mother had had a stroke and
fallen into a third level coma out in newport
beach, and was dying in ICU on the west coast. i
was to fly there the next day and stand her
deathwatch. the timing couldnt have been closer. it
felt like my cracking point coincided with her
having the stroke. all of 76 was a memory loss for
me--the stone room, etc.--described elsewhere here.
the changes in the mission were outside the pale of
my awareness, but the fragmentation and dispersal
and confusion in the mission meant there was no net
to catch me, no longer a 'family' of premies to
notice or protect me or see that i was ok(which i
clearly wasn't.) they were all baffled and unsure
and looking at each other in uncertainty, because
of the changes that were coming down from IHQ. the
year previous, i would have had a spot in a
household, meals, service, satsang, people to live
with who were aware of me day to day who would have
noticed something was definitely wrong with me..and
in the spontaneous, humane caring that knowledge
often triggered, before it was reformed by
'policy', they probably would have moved to help
me. i would like to hear your reaction to this
report from the bottom layer that you
never encountered in your executive cocoon then.
|