Printing the book

Dear Maharaji,

Ah, Maharaji, you are moving beyond me and I doubt if I can keep up. I am excluded - by your plans or by my poverty, I don't know. Or by my lack of inspiration.

My wife Norma says, "We do what we can do. If Amaroo is beyond us, don't worry about it." A good attitude. Maybe. Maybe a better one is,"how can I earn more money?" And, "How can I get down there, support myself, and give free labor?"
If I were a devotee - but that doesn't make sense. If devotion were "okay" why is it "hidden"? (Inside the aspirant programs, the introductory videos, the don't-say -anything, just-hand-them-the-videos instructions.) You don't trust us for anything, but we are supposed to trust you in everything. Well, it is a unique relationship. If you hadn't closed the ashrams, would I still be in one? I don't know. Now I am old, and my possibilities are not the same. Do I still have enough energy to fail and succeed, or am I only able to retire?

One thing I can say - as a devotee: the intensity of love has no concern for respectability. It should have no concern for respectability.

First, I failed to discount my friends' advice that I return to hear more "satsang' at the "center." But, people I like, I let them influence me. And I tend to like some fairly crazy people. Like Jack Kerouac says, they're the interesting ones, after all. Still, today, am I influenced by friends? To some extent, yeah. Like Joe Cocker said, "If someone told me sincerely enough to put my head in that toilet, I'd do it." But once I was in Maharaji's world - having kissed his feet on my knees - what LOVE, what love we shared, the premies and I. Night after night after night, for years. God help me, I'd gladly do it all again.

Of everyone there, some were okay with it, some were the occasional sour grape, but many as full of the wine of bliss as I was. "Dead drunk in the divine madness," as Charnanand used to say. And Charnanand? I remember seeing him surrounded by adoring "gopies" in Quebec. I was right there in "his" house. ("Borrowed" for his visit.) and to me it seemed to be quite innocent - no plonking going on, just much bliss. But can anyone say for sure? Jag Deo - what are the details with him? Various (some) mahatmas falling in love or just getting it on . . . and me? Yeah, I've fallen in love, but I didn't and don't "break rules." Should I break rules? Would that show a more advanced consciousness? Am I "inhibited?" Need to "break free?"

"Control your mind - you CAN'T", Maharaji has said recently. "Go by the FEELING." Good advice. The feeling is not good, my old master. Should I simply forgive you for your sins? But you aren't asking, you're skipping mentioning them. And I'm skipping mentioning you. The ointment, with its few flies, stinks.

It's over. Can I believe that? I've been living in his world for so, so long. His world, like Charnanand's house, is only borrowed. From the inhabitants of it is it borrowed.
Time to go to bed - I'm sleepy, nodding off and twitching awake. . .

You think a spirit can't die? It can! It can die drowning in the senses. Mine can, anyway. Maybe there are some spirits that have special privileges, but mine doesn't. "Beware of those who kill the soul, " says Jesus. Not to get an ego about it - I am guilty of all Maharaji is accused of, in the sense that I have a human mind, and it is omni-guilty. Who claims to be virtuous is delusional. But as we renounce those senses, we are naturally left with pure spirit. And we can love that pure spirit, and it doesn't judge us. We judge everything, including our sensual selves, our spiritual selves, even our judging selves. Hell is like Heaven - you don't need to die to get there, either.

I remember Kissinger talking about Nixon's last day in office - a very busy day for Kissinger. But he put aside everything in the end, just to feel the personal tragedy of his president, of the human tragedy there. Maharaji, I used to send prayers to you. No more. But I will pray for you. For you and us all.

I don't have dry eyes as I write, Maharaji, I loved you. I meant Arti when I sang it. But now it's over. O yeah.

The stuff in your world I despise - the elitism, the slickness, the top-down orientation - you seem to be going for it more and more. I liked you when you said,"This world is a cult!" which it is indeed. But you're not saying that now - oh, I don't know -it's your life.

It's not that I need to do anything. I heard that little "click," like a ripe mango detaching itself from its stem and settling into your hand, only this time the click was the coupling between your train engine and my caboose. After more and more separation the last 4 days, I notice that I am not actually a caboose. I am an engine. And I notice I'm pulling something - it's Maharaji. (Well, part of his baggage, anyway.) Hear that second click? Now the baggage is getting a bit further off. And it'll keep doing so.

Thanks for this, and no thanks, Maharaji. And thanks for that open door. And I'll tell anyone, it is truly open. I respect that.

Talked to Irma about my new stance toward Maharaji - she seemed much affected. I prayed for her afterward. She's a staunch supporter like I was. I don't feel like condemning Maharaji, or joining his critics on the web - not just yet, anyway. The critics' tone is often glib - not all the individuals there, but some. I guess that's the point, the variety of individual expression. But joining them doesn't give me what I long for, which is - something to connect with in my heart. Something to focus toward other than money.

What can I say? It must have been Maharaji - who killed the actual-human very very often beautiful satsang but GMJ? I'm sittin' here to tell ya, videos are not alive, and are no proper substitute for "Wherever 2 or more of you are gathered in my name." Ji doesn't get this point of view, it's all getting smoother and emptier, and that's the way he wants it. And I've given him enough time. Well, I don't know. It doesn't seem that there was anyone at the wheel if I look back to years ago. And now that there does seem to be someone there, I don't like it. It's all one way or the other. But, that's the deal. You leave your mind and enter the Shelter of Guru's Grace.

That's quite a power, isn't it? To have people give you their minds . . . because everything - body, soul, possessions and abilities come along with that mind.
I guess now I have to believe in myself. And I have to be worthy of that belief. OK!

It's something to have people really trust you. To really love you. It is a demand for great humility if people actually respect you. You can hurt them by not actually being respectable.

So, to Michael Dettmers, I send respect. And a sincere thank you. Some cold, grey dawn comes to every mother's child, but the love that includes knowledge of that cold grey dawn is the one you truly need. You may want the love that tells you the sun never sets, but does it get you through the night? Like, love has to realize its own limitations to be real. We do, too.

My heart feels like a bunch of oh so ripe grapes, heavy, shuddering, clinging to the vine by the straining stem. Love! Illusion. Victim of love. Ruined for anything else. How can I trust my own heart? Do I have a choice? If I want to feel, it must be my heart which feels. Where is that love which spins the cosmos? Love, come with me. I will go with you. Lead me, have mercy. Teach me to be true. You are a spirit. Be my spirit. Be mine forever. Let no consideration separate us. Take me up, cover me over, hush me down, light me on. Spirit of love, let me serve you. Give me love and I will return it. May I never shut down a heart. Let me love. Lead me. Love, let me go with you.

"Getting drunk in this special conscious way," said the sarcastic Bob Dylan. WAS talking about Maharaji, and maybe also Chogyam Trungpa, I now think.

Still, I saw the horizon line shine white as Chogyam lay dying here in Halifax. And the ice came and filled the harbour as far out to sea as the horizon as he died. As it did never before in memory, or ever since. Means nothing? Maybe.

And so may Maharaji, for all his "sins," yet prove a great saviour and a great master. But no one proves anything about a Master. You either follow him or you don't. It's not rational. And you can't tell anything by any signs. One quote I loved from Ji was, "It doesn't matter if they discover 4 new universes tomorrow, you'd still have to do satsang, service and meditation." (To go anywhere.) Unreasonable, yes, but I loved it.
And this guy, Scot? Does he, will he find the / his path of true walking? If he walks truly, the path will form beneath his feet.

That may be the nature of all true paths.

Be strong, therefore. Sober. Balanced.

Best foot . . . fore-WARD!

Did that really refer to Knowledge and Maharaji? No, it must refer to my need for satsang and service! I had the weekend off and I split for Houston, where I contacted the premies, did service - climbing up precarious ladders as the premies painted a city community center (good will outreach) - and sat cross-legged in satsang for my 2 or 3 nights there. And it was blissful. I helped make the pizzas in the ashram kitchen for a potluck. I remember gazing at this picture of a 9 year old Ji in his Krishna costume, playing a wooden flute, and laughing out loud at the look of gleeful joy in his eyes. I felt rejuvenated, and headed back to Dallas.

The Texas managers did what they could to get me to remove my Ji button. To no avail. Ji buttons not part of the corporate image, you understand. . . Risking my career was no problem. Risking my life, either. But it's a mortal condition, to live. We all risk our lives, just having fun sometimes. Go white water kayaking on the sea. A kick.

So, if it's my integrity versus Ji's integrity, as opposed to our integrity versus the world's, I'll stand up and take it face on. This is my knowledge - he only gave me the key. Key is paid off.

Belief in Maharaji or belief in myself - does it come to that? Of course. Because you let Ji into your control panels, he turned you on AND inserted an ad deep in the works for Prem Pal Singh Rawat. Now the you-or-him question is easier to answer - belief in him is the answer. And to get that Knowledge out of the belief in him zone and into new territory (belief in me,) that is that struggle across the life - afterlife borders in the multi dimensional darkness. Is Ji evil? Whatever you are, Maharaji, I'm standing up. Make way. I don't want to see you. Stay behind me.

10 PM - I guess Jim Heller is a kind of prophet. Years and years ago he split. Just an instinct on his part, I think. He does have a good "non-believer" intelligence. Different kinds of I.Q.s, as they say. And now I'm following him out of Maharaji's world? Only a True Follower type would put it that way. I'm not following. I'm actually doing something I feel to do.

I don't feel good - about myself. Again, doubt hits me. Am I really doing the right thing? Yes I am. The truth sets us free. Free. Free to then stand up and try to become an adult instead of a boy. Peter Pan, get real.

Tough. It hurts. It saddens. But I'm going to try, again, to grow. To grow up. God help me.

I have to learn to wish myself well, to do good for myself, to give myself a break, not judge but be kind, do service for myself, give (as in these pages) satsang about myself, and give myself darshan. And keep in touch. And don't reveal knowledge of myself to anyone (unless they're holding a gun to my head, OR I deem them fit to receive it.) And give myself a fair chance. Say 27 years?

So, like the sibyl, who opened her mouth at Delphi, and delivered the oracle, I look about me and feel my mouth. It is simple: yes, no, don't know, or oh! And . . . I . . . say . . I feel my power, and let me feel it more. If I prophesy, I prophesy. Wait for it.

He takes up a HUGE part of my consciousness, and without him, there will be space for others. Others such as First Nations contacts, John Gatto contacts, Runes guy Ralph Blum contacts. Well, there'll be room for others, anyway. And room for Scot.

11:30 PM - I feel lighter, I do. Something has lifted off.

Dettmers defense of himself - why he didn't tell everyone the real truth about Ji - was a real killer for me. "The atmosphere" (I'm paraphrasing) "around Maharaji was isolating and everyone was afraid of losing his job and Maharaji always reminded everybody of this fact, that there were 20 in the wings waiting to replace anyone around him." Dettmers was working 7 day weeks with 18 hour days and was too tired to step back and get a good big-picture take on the scene. Ji drinking, smoking cigarettes and dope, and having affairs: this he already convincingly testified about earlier.

I think of the love in a darshan line, so thick you could pinch it, bounce in it - ah! But that could happen many places, I suppose: Jehovah's Witness meetings, AAA meetings, mosh pits? Visit of the Pope? Kissing of the black stone at the Ka'aba?

So easy it is for me to lose my way. But I'm not going to lose my way. The spirit of Love I found in Knowledge, with Ji - I'm taking that with me, even as I depart from Maharaji's camp. And Knowledge is mine. Ji himself has never said it wasn't.

And what about joining the Ji - trashers on the net? I feel to not join them. They have it wrong, so many of them . . . well, no, I can maybe understand their bitterness. But I'm leaving my own way. Not anyone else's. Not Heller's. He could probably use a bit of help getting over his "crusade." Well, I might call him. But his tone is all wrong for me. I can't go from devotion, deep love, to vitriolic frenzy in one breath.

But I'm tired of being isolated. And having the knowledge and using it is incredibly isolating, like Annie said in her post against the trashers. I feel like talking. To someone out of the loops - look out Jackie! Sacral cranial appointment on Wednesday. No, I don't like the hypocrisy of Ji, multiple sex liaisons, etc. No . . .

I downloaded the significant Dettmers files from the Ex-Premie web site this evening . I'm going to prepare a document to make available to people I know who have Knowledge. I'm going to talk to some old friends around and about Maharaji's world. And if I'm still an "Ex" after all that, I may call Heller.

I'm going to print my own reactions to the Dettmers texts and my own feelings about Ji and his mission.

But I don't, you know, feel good about crusading against the Ji. What do I really think? I may not know for months, maybe years. I'm not basing my departure upon the Dettmers stories. Dettmers just cut a tie that had been pre-stretched to fit the size of scissors - pre-stretched by me. I'd forgive Maharaji his "sins" if he asked me. Is my door open? For Maharaji to enter or leave? I hope it is, and will remain so. But he will have to stoop pretty low for my little house doorway . . .

What can I do? Be kind, but be honest. Too much kindness and you have to borrow from honesty. Too much honesty borrows from kindness. So keep the books balanced. In a wide world, balancing, and balancing.

Wednesday, April 11 - 4 AM
Up because of the spirits? In the dark, I gazed at my obscure reflection in the bathroom mirror . Clouds of subtle, silent light, wonderfully complex, like Northern Lights but more beautiful, wreathed about my head, and consoled my mind. I, and creation, are magical. Could write that last sentence again. I, and creation, are magical. It isn't any lie.

Maharaji, make room. Watch! It's okay, I just need room to say what I truly feel.

I am attending a university, but it's all fake like high school, no one is caring about what we learn, it's just a dull experience of routine learning. And we live in dormitories with 10 people in one room. There's almost no privacy, and I am only wearing tighty whiteys.

Madeline Albright gives a talk, but it's in our little classroom / dormitory. Prime Minister Chretien gives a short, perfunctory speech, talks to me afterward about his son, who is a short and uncertain copy of himself. (Son is in the next room.) Chretien is trying to groom the son to be the next Prime Minister, but he doesn't know if son has the right stuff. I just do not care.

I am sort of drifting aimlessly and get pushed onto the VIP airliner. I watch listlessly as the ground recedes - then we're over the ocean, it's receding. Then the ocean is not receding. It's getting closer and closer! Yes, we are crashing!

The water is beautiful as it swirls over the windows. Ev starts looking for an exit door. There are little windows at the back of the plane, not plane windows but like a bus. I swing up and kick them out with my feet, crawl out - and - we're on a beach. I open the doors, people exit.

Media crawling around immediately, interviewing, taking videos. Crews have boarded up the inside of the plane so it's like walking a hoarding near a construction site. Some VIPs were killed, somehow, in the front section. There seemed to be no impact back in the back.

I wander into town, there's a big private school there, some kids in uniforms, Chinese, about 10 - 12 years old, kicking a soccer ball around the street. I join in - barefoot all the way. I wear underwear only throughout, but I don't feel self conscious, just laid back.

My interpretation? Many changes, but I have no prob with them?

Norma says it all relates to Knowledge.

Good Friday the 13th

No knowledge, of the urban sprawl of knowledge acquired by humanity, can ever supplant the need for the openness to the unknown. The value of this need is so underrated, it isn't rated at all.

I feel hope, though. I feel hope.

- So, that's the end of my journal entries. I depart from them on a positive note.

In typing them up, and editing them, I notice that during these weeks and months of what amounts to recreating myself to myself, I had to reassert my hope, over and over again, that I would be able to escape annihilation in some shadowy and fearful soul disaster. In other words, Maharaji had given me a security of soul beyond deep, beyond judgement. Necessarily, it depended upon a bond between us. A security versus freedom issue is "Leaving Maharaji."

I remember some scholar on radio saying that Jesus had been this huge force in history of judging a person or action by the intention behind it. This applies to me, and to Maharaji, and everyone. That is a kind of freedom, because you don't have to wonder about the intentions of others, just your own. Because it all comes out in the wash - the divine wash, you may as well call it.