Best of the Forum - KarenK - Lets talk ASHRAM life: opening, lifestyle and closing

Lets talk ASHRAM life: opening, lifestyle and closing

Posted by:	KarenK
Date:	05/17/2022, 16:28:43
Original URL:	Click here (However, the link may be stale.)

I know probably a small minority here were in the ashram, but it was the backbone of the cult and the ji's wealth. A few of you here may not know that we made a LIFETIME VOW TO THE GURU to maintain a life of celibacy, service and Sat Sang!

We were not to have ANY media, no sex, no chit chat, no alcohol or drugs, no meat fish or eggs. All premies that had "outside" jobs were to turn over ALL WAGES to the "house father" and HE would dole out what money he thought was needed for our care and upkeep! The rest went to LOTU! I was refused a new pair of shoes even though the old ones were so worn they damaged my feet. I went ten years without dental care. So when I express anger about having been used and abused all those years, I have good cause!

All the while back at the Divine Residence, the ji was eating steaks, chomping cigars, shtupping women outside his marriage, and consuming a CASE of imported French Cognac daily, while buying a $10,000 stereo system, designer EVERYTHING. Oh and how much did his BBQ grill cost with the remote control hydro lift cost? I paid for ALL OF THAT! With parts of my body, parts of my mind and a BIG part of my soul!

Then we were told, not by HIM, but by faceless executives that the ashrams were closing. NO REASON GIVEN!!!!!!!! WE MADE A LIFETIME COMMITMENT, BUT IT WASN'T RECIPROCATED!!!!!

So here I was, 30 years old, fending for myself. No career skills, no social skills, no relationship skills, no life skills, no life goals. I gave my most important formative years to that piece of shit conman! I don't think I will ever get over the anger, because there is no getting over the damage. I gave myself body, mind and soul!

Since I left the cult, my greatest feeling is one of my soul having been raped. I had the deepest faith in him, and I didn't even get a tee shirt! All I got was some moldy toe jam juice that lost its mojo.

I sure hope karma is real and he gets his!

Karen Kirschbaum

KARMA HAS NO EXPIRATION DATE

P.S. Regarding the no media, myself and another premie snuck down to the basement to watch the Nixon Watergate hearings in 1974, leading up to his resignation! Proudly I am my Mother's daughter. She used to joke she was jealous of her friend that got himself put on Nixon's enemy list!

great post

Posted by:	Susan
Date:	05/18/2022, 03:11:03
Original URL:	Click here (However, the link may be stale.)

The whole ashram thing might be called some form of human trafficking today, well, maybe not, because it was a religion, wait, no it wasn't a religion.. wait.. they had a church status... oh the maya... never leave room for doubt...lila.... mr mind...

Yes the ashram thing hurt so many people. I was in the ashram for a short time, and in high school still actually.. and probably the experience was part of my drip cascade which ending with the mala dance being when I accepted I was in a cult and left the ashram. Leaving a long letter explaining I had come to believe it was a cult ( and I remember I left it to burn the bridge back in case I lost my nerve)... I called my mom to come get me.

The stories like yours are so common. People really giving the guru the best years of their lives and every penny they earned at his behest. The years when most people in the cult would have been getting an education and building a career. So incredibly abusive and exploitive.

Yeah, it sucks he is still out there with his planes and residences and his aging remaining followers likely putting him in their wills ... hopefully not at the expense of their families as one more loss and insult..

I wish bad people always got what they deserved. They don't. Some get away with it. But, yeah, if there is such a thing as Karma..

your ps.. those stolen moments, some are my best memories, like when the premies that were looking out for me in room were a bit bad and we all went to the Vatican. Or me and my friend being seriously in our minds and naming every one in the satsang hall after Welcome Back Kotter characters. You snuck into the basement to watch Watergate. I can totally relate to that moment of authentic self in the craziness.

Dear Karen and Susan,

Posted by:	lakeshore
Date:	05/18/2022, 18:25:09
Original URL:	Click here (However, the link may be stale.)

"So here I was, 30 years old, fending for myself. No career skills, no social skills, no relationship skills, no life skills, no life goals. I gave my most important formative years to that piece of shit conman! I don't think I will ever get over the anger, because there is no getting over the damage. I gave myself body, mind and soul!"

The only difference between your account and mine is that I was only twenty-nine years old.

Not only was I in the ashram from 1974 to when they were abruptly closed, I was simultaneously a full-time community coordinator, ashram housefather and treasurer who doled out the meager sustenance for most of that time. I was a totally immersed brown nosing goody-two-shoes chump, mostly out of natural survival instincts and self-preservation in what was at times a hellish situation.

As you both know, the deeply abusive, exploitative, mind numbing and growth stunting reality of it all cannot be fully captured or put into words.

In my roles, I was typically the one who drove mahatmas and initiators to and from airports and escorted them on their ashram funded shopping sprees, all the while arranging their schedules and attending to their every need. I was smack dab in the middle of the tyranny and crusades against anything that wasn't satsang, service and meditation by certain initiators who were conduits of Maharaji's abuse, and the whims of those who were socially engineering ashrams by moving ashram premies around like game pieces.

To what you both so accurately portrayed, I would add young adults with mental illness who were prescribed heavier doses of satsang, service and meditation as they were becoming suicidal, actual suicide attempts, and the fact that ashram premies were made to disclose their parents' incomes and any potential inheritances. I would also emphasize the utter lack of resources for medical, dental and vision care and the cruel and grueling daily schedule. With Arti and at least one hour of meditation early in the morning and at night immediately after satsang, ashram premies with full-time jobs were allowed no rest ever. Weekends were consumed by fundraising activities or all day satsang "retreats" with no time allotted for excercise or any form of recreation.

As you mentioned, 15% off the top of every paycheck was sent to Divine Light Mission (along with the requisite reporting form) and often additional amounts were sent directly to Maharaji. All remaining funds went to rent, food, utilities, one or two old cars for typically more than a dozen ashram premies, and most importantly, frequent travel and accommodations for festivals.

The hauntingly meek and feeble pasted-on smiles attempting to convey that it was all "so blissful" barely concealed the unspoken guilt, fears, anxiety and judgements that reduced so many ashram premies to stunted shadows of their former selves. The sqandering and exploitation of their potential was staggering.

Perhaps the most insideous aspect was that we were in a prison without bars thinking that we were the most fortunate people on the planet. "If it was so bad, then why didn't you just leave?" Maharaji sealed our fate with countless fear-mongering quotes stating that the "world" was a dark, perilous abyss that only he could save us from and that the biggest mistake an ashram premie could ever make would be to leave his shelter. That sacrosanct understanding was completely reinforced by literally every ashram premie we lived with.

To this day, what upsets me most about premies who lived through and witnessed the ashram era is the fact that they allowed and were complicit in the erasing and whitewashing of it from history. One good example was a former ashram premie who wrote, "The ashrams were no more onerous than little league or summer camp." I've been criticised for expressing this (kindly of course) because we all know that "it's not their fault because they're in a cult," but I have to believe that somewhere deep down they know it was wrong.

When the ashrams closed, I was so burned out that I stepped back for a few years and focused on making up for lost time as far as employment was concerned. After Flying Solo and I slowly pieced together a new life, I eventually returned to some heavy duty "participation" while holding down a very demanding job. The double life and stress of it all tipped me over the edge and brought me here.

I called both of you and the other fine posters here who helped and inspired me so much "shining stars in my new bright sky." It still makes me misty-eyed.

Bob

A fitting ending

Posted by:	lakeshore
Date:	05/19/2022, 14:18:17
Original URL:	Click here (However, the link may be stale.)

Hi Karen,

Throughout 1983 (the last year), we hadn't received ANY input, direction or attention from Maharaji. The monotony of the daily routine, lack of aspirants, same satsang attendees and hot summer nights left us in an unspoken state of anxiety ridden limbo. (That's when I came-up with "pasted-on smiles." ) We were adrift and I distincty remember wondering "is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?"

(Not that it mattered because I was still a devoted "leave no room for doubt" ashram premie.)

On top of that, we had a recently transferred overzealous premie who was driving everyone crazy with her overbearing no chit chat, never miss Arti judgmental strictness. One night, just outside of my bedroom, I listened to her rail against me to an instructor because I wasn't strict enough. She wanted to replace me or have me replaced.

(Maharaji later referred to her by name at a big event and called her the "cat's meow." )

Another premie brought in goats, book buyers were on the road buying books, the garage was full of cheap tin knights and a couple of premies were sick with something like mononucleosis (including the sick DECA premie I posted about).

Nevertheless, we were as devoted as ever and totally committed to the fourth commandment: Always have faith in God.

To answer your question:

The closing announcement came suddenly out of nowhere. There were no rumors or anything like that. (In hindsight, the deafening silence from Maharaji throughout the prevous year should have been a clue.)

Allen Embarrato came through on a routine tour stop. He took me aside one evening and said that Maharaji wanted to close all the ashrams. Furthermore, he said that as the community coordinator, it was up to me to set the example and be the first to leave because I was the "glue" holding everything together.

"I gave myself body, mind and soul!"

Me too, Karen.

We decided to hold an ashram meeting and make the announcement to everyone else a couple of days later.

The tension was so high after that announcement. Allen (and I'll always remember him fondly for this) broke the ice by tossing some rice from the pantry at me. I retaliated and it quickly escalated into the Mahabharata of food fights, pulling in about six others. Frankly (to the utter dismay of the "cat's meow" ), we trashed the place and spent most of the next day cleaning it up.

A week or so later (after literally sitting alongside the curb contemplating my future -- put out on the road so to speak), I was taken in by a couple of premies who had rented a house suitable for ongoing nightly satsang. There were clingers, including the "cat's meow," who apparently refused to accept what was happening and wouldn't move out of the defunct ashram house. They thought that if everyone else left, they could take posession of all the furniture, equipment and kitchen stuff, etc. One day when I stopped by to check on things, there was a U-Haul in the driveway. I had no choice but to call the police to stop them. When I explained the circumstances, the police sided with me.

A few weeks later, the mouse in the pantry smiled and winked at me. (It wasn't pasted on.)

Such was the downward spiral ending of that hell hole.