“To stay with a broken heart, with a
rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get
revenge—that is the path of true awakening.”
~ Pema Chödrön
It
was in the early eighties after returning from a three month stint at the
ashram in India. We returned to the US
with plans to begin an ashram in the desert.
With the approval of Gurudev we moved onto some land being offered by an
elderly couple who had once started a spiritual community there. There was just a handful of us with a
respected senior sannyasin in charge.
With my ecstatic spiritual batteries recently charged in India, I was
full of optimism and inspiration.
The
high desert in Southern California can be challenging. Depending on the time of year the days are
hot, nights are cold, winds can be strong and episodic rains cause minor
flooding. By early spring temperatures
rise into the nineties and steadily rise into the hundreds. We were farming/gardening, maintaining
buildings and promoting the ashram as a yoga sanctuary. Personally, I loved every minute of it: the
hard work, spiritual camaraderie, opportunities for meditation and especially
evening kirtan.
We
had some difficulties. My wife was not
as enthusiastic as I was about the project and we fretted over our two and a
half year old daughter. There was a
growing tension within our small group which seemed mysterious to me at the
time. On the other hand, we received a
visit from a highly realized disciple of our Guru who greatly impressed
me. We lead retreats with people coming
from all over the country. We grew a
variety of vegetables in the mulched soil that we worked. I became known as the master of the compost
pile. I had a multiple psychic/spiritual
experiences both within meditation and in activity.
One
evening one of our novice sannyasins confessed to us that she had been having a
sexual affair with our leader. As she
tearfully went on she had become aware that there were others as well. I flashed back to a comment that I had filed
away when he had remarked “just because you’re a swami it doesn’t mean you have
to be a eunuch.” I had laughed it off at
the time.
Our
senior swami was married and had children.
We had met them in India. He also
had a habit of extolling the virtues of “brahmacharya,” or celibacy. I wasn’t that young at the time but I
idealized this guy. It turns out that he
was having multiple affairs as he travelled across the country spreading the message
of yoga. It took awhile for it to
connect in my mind; he was misusing his yogic charisma and his position of
influence and power to seduce vulnerable women.
If
you are truly a spiritual aspirant, stop for minute and consider how pathetic
that is. However, to paraphrase Ram
Dass, what we meet in another person is a reflection of our own inner
tendencies. I had to admit that there
was a spark of jealousy in me, to some extent I saw him as a rock star attracting
groupies. The fact that he was taking
advantage of vulnerable women took a while to sink in. Although it didn’t qualify as rape in any
technical sense he was manipulating them.
The
misuse of power and charisma for sexual purposes is certainly not new or
unusual. I grew up in the era of JFK and
Martin Luther King, Jr. both of who were known to have had affairs. Many spiritual leaders whether from
mainstream religions or from apparent cults have gotten into trouble for their
sexual exploits involving their followers.
Recent scandals have involved Bikram Choudhuri and Zen Roshi, Joshu
Sasaki, both accused not just of sexual impropriety but rape. Rape, of course, is not a primarily sexual
act but an act of violence. However, any
misuse of power and influence at another’s expense is also an act of
aggression.
Following
the revelations about our teacher in the desert, I lost my respect for him and
we got into an argument after which he left the ashram and never returned. He left the country in fact after cleaning
out our residual bank account. Although
I lost my respect for him in particular, I did not lose my respect for the yoga
tradition nor for the many other sincere and dedicated Swamis. It certainly opened my eyes though and I
learned to see through my initial infatuation with charismatic leaders.
Of
course our spiritual leaders are human beings with weaknesses. Fame, power, charisma, etc. present
temptations which can corrupt them. In
the Yoga Sutras Patanjali warns us against playing around with yogic
powers. To do so can reinforce egoic
self-centeredness and cause one to stumble on the path. Power of any kind can be corrosive.
Ultimately,
as Buddha taught, we are each responsible for our own spiritual progress. Gurus, teachers and guides are important but
we might get into trouble if we lean on them too heavily. All experiences are a potential means of
growth as well as potential illusions to mislead us. I am thankful for my experience in the
desert. Although it disillusioned me it
also awakened me to my personal responsibility.
There has been much to learn since and I still find myself boxing my own
shadow at times. We have to be careful
not to over-generalize. As the saying
goes, “one bad apple . . .” On the other
hand we might be well off to look at the structures of power in our spiritual
organizations and how they lead to exploitation.
