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I don’t know
whether anyone else can relate to this, but one of
the more subtle effects of involvement with this
mindwarp known as Knowledge was for me the retarded
development of what you might call a
‘worldview’. Most people by the age of
twenty-five or thirty tend to know where they stand
on most things and could sum up their ‘outlook
on life’; this needn’t be anything
profound or well-worked-out, but more a case of
knowing your own mind or (if you prefer) feelings
about things.
Instead, Margie insisted I reject and fear the
mental effluent my brainwaves, so there was not
much chance of said self-knowledge happening whilst
under the influence of his simplistic
‘mind-vs- maharaji’ model of the
universe. Paradoxical, really, since Knowledge is
supposed to be about knowledge of the
‘self’. Bollocks. It is about ignorance
and denial of the self.
Most people hope for a practical, cohesive
bedrock belief or philosophy they can refer to and
apply to new situations. We might be programmed
that way. Something that will hold true across all
spheres of activity including the political, the
moral, the spiritual, the personal, the scientific
etc., including the day-to-day nitty-gritties such
as health, drugs, diet and childcare. Prem Rawat is
an authority on absolutes (to the extent that he
has always been certain about his absolute
authority…) So we listened to him. It was this
need for certainty (mine, and no doubt, his, too)
which brought me into the Knowledge trip but which
the cult spectacularly failed to deliver. The worst
thing being it took me ten years to realise it.
Maharaji’s basic message – implicit or
explicit – is once you have Knowledge, the
other stuff doesn’t matter. Beautifully
simple; simplistically ugly.
The premie solution is to listen first to
Maharaji or at least other premies to see whether
the Only One has pronounced on the matter in hand.
Unfortunately, on many subjects (eg. morality) he
said nothing beyond ‘the only sin is to know
the truth and then go away from it’, or
‘what good are your principles if you’re
going to die anyway?’ He certainly never
mentioned the right thing to do after running over
and killing a cyclist, for instance...
And when he HAS spoken out on other issues it
was the most unadulterated bullshit (check out the
‘dead seeds’ argument for vegetarianism).
More unfortunately still, he changed his mind on so
many things over the years (astrology, karma,
reincarnation, I am Superior Power in Flab but I
never wanted to be a leader…) that anyone
trying to take the guy seriously ends up dazed and
confused - which, come to think of it, are the
perfect attributes for the compliant signer of bank
drafts, still seeking a place beyond that
confusion.
Get your concepts blown on a regular basis and
be shown, yet again, what an insignificant worm you
are for wanting things to believe in in the first
place...
As for the rest, well, forget the political.
Crazy politicians are – like the rest of us
– in their heads, looking after their careers,
full of desires and ambitions, and political
solutions won’t bring answers to any of the
suffering in the world, will they? (nb: Some truth
there, but politicians are not the same thing as a
need for political action.)
No, ‘happiness is the practical
solution. Everyone gets happy. That’s it…
tee-hee-hee…’ was Prem’s
giggling prescription for peace on earth -
gleefully mistaking outcome for method, perhaps due
to a surfeit of ice-cream and TV horror movies -
alongside: ‘Peace isn’t the absence of
war…’ [er, actually, Prem,
that’s exactly what it is!]. And
let’s not forget he actually promised to
deliver peace within his lifetime. A yearor so back
I was thinking of sending a few propagation
pamphlets to the Kosovan refugees to let them know
the good news about what’s surely gonna happen
in what’s left of Prem’s
giggling-with-happiness lifetime but, on balance,
demurred… (The kids who watched their folks
being murdered might not be ready)
And yes, I too want things to believe in. Why
not? But I will choose, and have chosen what to
believe in. Or maybe I have no choice, since I
cannot believe in the unbelievable. When it comes
down to it, that part of me that was being
permanently suppressed and smothered while I was
trying to live ‘in that place’
twenty-nine hours a day, is actually the
only part of me I even care about – and
which those few special people who care about me
care about also…
The part of me that even thinks for itself,
makes uncoerced choices, and can interact
meaningfully with other people -– and I mean
all other people, and not just other cult
members. (And you only have to read the
contributions of our premie guests on this forum to
see the severe shortfall in basic social skills and
critical thinking that will accrue from too long
spent under a blanket or watching videos…)
Or the part of me that is as much a
physical being as anything else. Do you
remember that premie song that started: ‘You
are not your body. You are not your
mind…’?
Sorry, but mind and body - are exactly
what you are. Hallelujah! Enjoy them –
they are among the most wonderful things that
evolved on this planet - alongside yeast, hops and
the grape, of course.
So I have fudged together a new worldview in a
freelance fusion of Darwinism, atheism, humanism,
art and lit (remember when M banned books
from ashrams?), Amnesty Internationalism,
left-of-centre politics with a spoonful of
non-mystical environmentalism thrown in…
Shostokovich, Miles Davis, Van Morrison...
[list of other musical favourites removed by
forum good taste editor]... substitute your
own.
No serious drugs except half a gallon of real
ale or a nice bottle of red wine, and – of
course – a sense of wonder, too much coffee
and black sense of humour. But you don’t need
to agree with or embrace any of that to reject the
teachings of the guru. Find whatever suits you
best, I say after first applying some honest,
critical scrutiny. You’ll never regret
it.
Sometimes I envy those exes with a strong
new-age tendency, who carry on meditating without
the guru and read their experience is some kind of
spiritual merging with the universal juice –
no particular worldview except rivers flowing back
to ocean of infinity - that Margie was a signpost
on the rocky road to... Hell, sometimes I envy CD,
for his unshakeable belief in the benevolent
playfulness of fookin infinity and the sheer mellow
purpose and rightness of everything that is,
was, and ever more shall be - oh… But then,
again, I wouldn’t want to tell the folks in
Kosovo that just at the moment. There’s too
much pain in the world for such glibness.
Find something that will apply as much to others
as to yourself, I reckon, and if you don’t
feel embarrassed telling them about it, then it
might be something worth telling them about.
Find something - better still, choose a
few things to believe in before they choose you.
The chances are, if you are an ex, that you came to
Margie because you cared about things like the
truth, the whole truth and nothing but… or
else because you wanted to know love. Both are out
there, in my experience - no guru or devotional
commitment necessary. Go get ‘em…or at
least enjoy the experience of being your own
authority on what is best for you.
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