Many former TMers knew Deepak Chopra, his split with Maharishi, then Chopra's repackaging of Maharishi's programs in a slightly more mainstream package for his own financial gain.
Deepak Chopra is now more of a household name than Maharishi ever was, thus ABC invited him to a discussion on spirituality.
Nightline's description of this show :
The "Face-Off" is a recurring series where opposing sides debate hot topics. In the sixth installment of the series, Deepak Chopra, a physician and best-selling author of "How to Know God," and prominent scholar, philosopher and writer Jean Houston, will face-off against Michael Shermer, founding publisher of "Skeptic" magazine, and Sam Harris, author of "The End of Faith" on the tension between God and science."
Gina's comments on the show:
This conversation between critical thinkers with Chopra could just as easily have taken place with Maharishi.
In this conversation, Chopra mouthes MMY's teachings, sometimes word for word.
Coming from the same Hindu tradition, the Indian accent, and MMY's pseudo-science jargon, Chopra inadvertently provides good comedy for those familiar with Maharishi.
Chopra speaks circuitous non-sense which can cause a hypnotic effect for vulnerable listeners.
We've seen the hypnotic effect work with True Believers listening to Maharishi.
Chopra responds to discussion of the history of diety and sociology of religion with vague circuitous monologues on consciousness, inner experience and (undefined) quantum mechanics. This sounds so familiar!
Many of us know the futility of conducting these same conversations with TM or New Age True Believers!
(thus successful exit-counseling, "deprogramming," requires a professional)
Per Sam Harris talking to Chopra :
"Sprinkling in a bunch of scientific terms with New Age terminology does not make it scientific."
Harris also states that Chopra's merging of New Age philosophy with scientific terminology is neither scientific nor spiritual.
Unfortunately, True Believers listening to this show would merely state that critics of Chopra or Maharishi are "lost in the darkness of ignorance."
It's fascinating to watch Chopra spew the fluff, and become angry when confronted with analysis of his teachings.
This Nightline show may be watched by clicking :
"Does God Have a Future" The Nightline Face-Off
Enjoy!
Showing posts with label The Magical Mystery Tour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Magical Mystery Tour. Show all posts
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 3
At the request of some TMFree readers, this is the third of a series of eight essays on Robin Woodsworth Carlsen.
This series is provided with permission of their anonymous author.
We at TMFree do not ascribe to Carlsen's 'teachings.' This series is provided for those who wish to review philosophies of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen. Carlsen was one of many Maharishi TM-spinoff gurus.
Part one of this series can be read here. You may then read and follow links through the posted series.
********************************************
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 3
"The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment"
Carlsen was to return to Switzerland one more time for yet another course before his final dissolution into Unity Consciousness, and to sit at the feet of his master, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. While Carlsen's autobiographical work From Ignorance to Enlightenment covers the outline of this final course, it does not go into the details of his actual enlightenment. Instead, this can be found in yet another book detailing the first three years of Carlsen's divine state, The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment, that begins with an intro by the author, as do all of his works. Interestingly, in this case, Carlsen begins with the following: "It is well understood that the true sage never declares his status ("Those who know do not say; those who say do not know"), and yet in not denying the fact of there being something extraordinary (or purely ordinary) in their experience they allow others to identify them (the sage) with a quality of existence that carries with it the sense of wholeness, the sense of a final freedom, a joyous consummation." Carlsen then goes on to describe his own "enlightenment" in grandiose TM-speak as is so typical among its teachers and proponents.
(Many thanks to former students of Carlsen who've been very helpful in these reviews and who all wish to remain anonymous.) - Anon
-----
[Excerpts from The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment © Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, 1979, ISBN 09-20910-03-3]
Robin, by the grace of God,
will you manifest the essence of the heart of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen
Through the nervous system of creation,
Through the nervous system,
Through my nervous system
Through me,
Through my heart.
- a "sutra" from the Technique for the Discovery of Grace which extends the TM-Sidhi programme
It was getting late. There I was, about to begin the last of my six months in Switzerland; I had come here to achieve the final freedom--Enlightenment--and, in spite of the relative fulfillment of meditation, and my sense of the extraordinary sensitivity and intuition I possessed in relation to the others on this special course devised by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi for his teachers, I could not categorize myself as a "clear", the name given to those of us who could materialize the object of our desire at will, or at least who could perceive the truth of a given object or idea merely through the slightest intention in meditation. This was called "ritam", the Sanskrit term for pure perception. I later discovered these powers were but Maharishi's device to heighten the motivation of his teachers, keeping them enthusiastic about "experiences" in the absence of the final experience: liberation.
As a "hazy ritam" I joined one of the lesser evolved groups, and we were seated in a special section within the assembly hall whenever Maharishi came to visit. The interesting thing though was the obvious fact that many members of the "nil" group--those of us who had experienced no direct power over the environment--as often as not appeared more integrated in terms of personality and "presence" than the so-called "clears". I continued, however, to remain satisfied with the applied value of my ten years of regular meditation and nearly a year of intense "rounding"--the program of long meditation sessions broken up by asanas (yoga exercises) for the duration of the day--held in Europe under the direction of Maharishi. While others felt safe about claiming spontaneous ritam, I comforted myself with the knowledge that, when it came down to it, I was still the most appreciative of Maharishi, in terms of sensitizing myself to the subtleties of his heart, to the brilliance of his role.
But still caught in the agony of ignorance, knowing the bliss that was promised, and having had such a good taste of it both in and out of meditation--I was convinced that over the years I had experienced the basis of higher states of consciousness, including the character of cosmic consciousness and God-consciousness which Maharishi had proclaimed the two milestones of growth on the way to Unity consciousness, the state of fulfillment--knowing this I wondered when I would be released. Was there still something impure in my heart? I had to rule that out, simply because for the past ten years I knew how easily and creatively I could surrender to whatever experience, person, situation contained the element of holiness, of God, and I knew that my every waking moment was approached with a kind of absolute vulnerability and openness.
No, I knew my heart was pure; the only obstacle I could conceive of was karma: somewhere there were still some things that had to complete themselves, some of my transgressions had not yet been paid off in spite of all my meditation and giving. I knew too that my mind did not operate in the precise, orderly manner that would enable me to be as efficient in my activity as I had wished to be. It still took me plenty of time to compose a paper for a graduate course at university, and with all my acquired objectivity when I was faced with some challenge from the mechanical world, the world of "things" and how they worked, a self-definition would seize me up, and I would not experience the power and intuition that so easily and abundantly was there when, say, I was with people, or performing on stage, teaching school, attuning myself to the wisdom of Maharishi.
But even the limitations I have spoken of--efficiency and mechanical aptitude--seemed to recede as I experienced more and more bliss in my consciousness, ever increasing levels of refinement in my physiology, and such an obvious degree of radiant wholeness and love in my activity. Maharishi had begun to give us the special techniques that had been promised, and from the start I felt at any moment I could be overtaken by the reality of Unity. Just a few days before my historic walk in the Alps, I had gone up to Maharishi's room to express my fulfillment, for just that afternoon I had felt a long period of sustained egolessness and bliss that seemed so near to the final beatitude Maharishi had described and which had been the glory of Indian religion.
As it happened Maharishi had just gone down in the elevator as I was on my way up, and as I walked, innocently, and joyfully into the corridor towards his room I was met by one of his secretaries, John Cowhig, who, while in his manner congenial and supportive, advised me it was impolitic to wander into Maharishi's room without first seeking permission. I of course knew this, but had experienced the desire to see him as the expansion of life within me wanting to celebrate the joy of what he had conferred upon me. But sensing immediately the slight tension in John's demeanour I did what I was so often wont to do in my life: to turn the attention towards him, praising him, and indicating what prodigious acts of goodness he must have performed in earlier lifetimes to deserve the karma of being so close to Maharishi. (I later, as in the significance of the ritam groupings, discovered that there was not a simple causal relationship between ripeness of the heart, and proximity to Maharishi; some of the purest and most evolved souls who had come under the grace and guidance of Maharishi spent their time thousands of miles from his presence.) Once I had gauged the method of stimulating John's heart (and ego!) I quickly delivered myself from any kind of difficulty incurred by my unannounced visit. John happily agreed with my speculations about his fortunes, and I soon departed for my room, aware that it would be another time before I could express my gratitude--as spontaneous and overflowing as it was--to Maharishi. Also by this time the intensity of my experience of fullness had diminished, and I accustomed myself once again to renewing the program of evolution.
Several days later--Maharishi had returned to his hotel forty kilometres away in Seelisberg, we were in Arosa--I was lunching on the balcony that looked over Swiss meadowland; one of the course participants handed me an article from Time describing the Dalai Lama, formerly from Tibet, the recognized leader of Tibetan Buddhism in the world. The article spoke of his direct connection with Buddha and the thousands of people that had gathered to enjoy his darshan--the particular aura of holiness that is supposed to radiate from a saint. I read the article several times, and was about to discuss it with the friend who had first given me the article, when another friend, William H. [truncated], tapped me on the shoulder to remind me of a promised walk we were to take up the mountain. (Part of the program of the day called for daily walks after lunch in the vigorous Alpine air, this to stabilize the effects of the long sessions of meditation, and to breathe in the prana--life energy--of the mountain atmosphere.)
My friend was a poet of sorts, gentle, effortfully (at times) warm, and although I enjoyed his company, he did seem to often mistake sentimentality for pure and intense feeling. Some of his poetry, while sincere and "spiritual", lacked a rawness, a pungency that would enable the form to rise to the elevated level of the content. Some of it seemed merely the propagation of his obsession with a state of harmony and bliss.
And this is what we immediately began to discuss as we started our walk up the mountain path: the merits of didactic poetry versus imagistic poetry, or to be specific, the ultimate validity of describing in poetry a reality (God, Enlightenment) that was not
yet the reality of one's experience. William, as devoted and intelligent as he was, had not expressed his own individuality, his own agonies, and unfinished desires. I argued that no matter how limited so-called realistic poetry may seem--when, say, measured against the content of the scriptures--still it was preferable to lofty descriptions of ideas whose truth had not yet incarnated within one's experience.
We continued to argue--happily, boisterously--until we began the descent, a different and more circuitous route back to the hotel. While Bill walked ahead I stopped and began to feel a surge of expansion in my mind, which I immediately translated into a more animated and histrionic level of debate. As I shouted and acted out my thesis--we must speak from where we are in order to give a potency to poetic form--the whole sensation of perception, feeling, and thought began to alter. A rock face just to my immediate right began to transform into the most delicate and holy substance I had seen; it seemed as if the rock was composed of the breath of what could only be described as God: it floated in a shimmering of Beingness and appeared to be deathless and more effulgent than the sun. I felt the essence of my heart melting into the texture of infinity of the rock.
My friend by this time was asking what was happening, and by the look on my face, knew something powerfully expansive was taking place. I could not speak and by this time had fallen to my knees, turning in the opposite direction to give some respite to my exploding vision; here on the other side was the panorama of mountains, and they too assumed the form and reality of Beingness, of the most liquid yet ethereal immortality. I was moaning as I experienced all these boundaries of perception dissolving, and then, as I turned to look up into my friend's face, I saw the perfection of God shining from his face and body. I put my head down to touch the ground when suddenly my whole being began to flow out of its self, engulfing me in the same ocean of light which had swept over the rock face, the mountains, and my now Godlike friend.
And then I as if woke up. The spell was broken. I knew myself to have always existed. All my suffering, all my strivings, time, space, personal history was but a dream. There had never been anything but the light of consciousness. I had never been born nor would I ever die. Something disappeared forever, and I later came to know what that was. Something continued to form the apparent boundaries of Robin but the ego that had previously had so much to say about my sensation and experience of the world was now the individuated expression of what was the unmanifest reality of God.
With the completion of my being, I assumed a silence and inner repose, having been transformed into the actuality of what existence was. I was the substance, the reality that so obviously had its being before and beyond the phenomenal forms that before seemed to have an existence of their own. Now I had become invisibly one with something whose integrity could only be described as God, for I saw how that something was the essential character of everything, indeed was naught else but that something. I had lost everything only to gain everything, and that everything now supported and motivated the particular something I was, giving me a uniqueness that was the purest form of the universality which now was the primary reality of my existence and of my being.
By this time I spoke quietly and persuasively to my friend about what had happened--that I was "in Unity", the term all meditators and teachers were familiar with as equated with liberation, Enlightenment. Apparently my actions and my appearance during and immediately after the experience testified to the authenticity of what I now simply and innocently declared. The integration of my personality was suddenly absolute and every sensation of tension, worry, or doubt had dissolved leaving only the self-confidence of Being.
All of us on this course--about one hundred and fifty teachers, plus the thousand or so others located in different hotels in Switzerland--had come to achieve this condition of wholeness, and it was both natural and extraordinary that someone had finally "made it". My friend, given to effusive displays of affection, rejoiced in the miracle of having been present to witness my metamorphosis, divining quite remarkably the impulses which now carried me through each moment and which radiated in perfect harmony from my being. We began to walk while I described all the sensations of being unified with God, each sensation corresponding to the traditional descriptions found in Eastern scriptures and in the subtle analysis Maharishi had given us of higher states of consciousness.
Now, while I dwelled in my previous condition of separateness--ignorance--I had been sensitive to all the currents of feeling moving between people and within a situation. So much of my attention had been placed on attuning myself to those currents so I could adjust the movements within my own heart so as to respond and act in a manner which would heighten the flow of harmony and individuation within the situation, each moment. Such sensitivity, such action required an elaborate form of control and effort, gauging the slightest nuances of meaning evoked by those feelings, effectively bringing that meaning into a focused understanding--all this to make the moment charged with the maximum evolution.
Now I found myself helpless to impose the faintest amount of control; I was entirely powerless to influence what was happening through me and around me. Nothing could center itself from within that would allow me to manipulate or exercise some influence over what I was to think, say, feel, or do. Every impulse, every molecule in my being was now aligned with the eternal continuum of pure consciousness, the wholeness of what was absolute and unmanifest. The Robin that was still there enjoyed the faint illusion of will, desire, but the actual reality of all my actions had its origin and purpose in the supreme reality out of which I had come, the reality which had conceived of my "I"-ness. The contrast to my previous state of experience was staggering, for now, I could sensitize myself to the currents of feeling, yet all the while remain purely detached and, indeed, sensitize myself without inefficiently empathizing or involving myself in a way that made the experience complex; my mind remained free of all impressions; I felt spontaneously my actions to represent the perfect computation of all the variables in the cosmos relating to that one moment, the computation that would deliver the most evolutionary content, the most aesthetic style.
Three Swiss villagers were approaching us, two men and a woman, and I registered the grossness of the two men--crude, hard faces, a heaviness in their walk--and the relative purity of the woman, but at the same time, because there was nothing I could do in the situation but observe, I blissfully watched this fact: the contrast in beauty and sensitivity between the men and the woman, without experiencing the constellation of feelings and thoughts that would have overtaken me in ignorance and caused me to lament the woman's fate. I knew I could watch the death of my child without losing the integrity of my consciousness, the integrity of my emotions. I might--if it was called for--respond passionately, even violently, but at the most fundamental level I would remain wholly centred in the infinite serenity of Being, knowing as I did that everything had its existence, its dramatic forms in the repose of God Himself.
This, then, was the first real evidence of the application of my Enlightenment: the amazing contrast in my sensation of subjective experience in the face of a particular personal situation. (Each situation for me in ignorance was personal since I was always acutely aware of the quality and content of every feeling that was being expressed--this is what always captured my attention, often when such bias towards "The Personal" was not particularly the most efficient way of focusing to accomplish the task before me.) I walked away from the three Swiss villagers completely unchanged in spite of perceiving all of what I would have perceived in ignorance--more so in fact, since even my perceiving was being done for me. Instead of becoming involved in this scene I was immediately fresh and ready to absorb the specific meaning of the next moment, this that I might function in a way for the evolutionary benefit of the environment. And this was the glorious freedom I now enjoyed: without intending to do anything, everything I could have desired--and much more--was accomplished skillfully, effortlessly. Yet, in experiencing all this going on automatically, I nevertheless paradoxically had a more vivid sense of the pure individuality that was the purpose of these boundaries called Robin, having been created.
[Part 4 continues with excerpts from "The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment."]
This series is provided with permission of their anonymous author.
We at TMFree do not ascribe to Carlsen's 'teachings.' This series is provided for those who wish to review philosophies of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen. Carlsen was one of many Maharishi TM-spinoff gurus.
Part one of this series can be read here. You may then read and follow links through the posted series.
********************************************
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 3
"The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment"
Carlsen was to return to Switzerland one more time for yet another course before his final dissolution into Unity Consciousness, and to sit at the feet of his master, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. While Carlsen's autobiographical work From Ignorance to Enlightenment covers the outline of this final course, it does not go into the details of his actual enlightenment. Instead, this can be found in yet another book detailing the first three years of Carlsen's divine state, The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment, that begins with an intro by the author, as do all of his works. Interestingly, in this case, Carlsen begins with the following: "It is well understood that the true sage never declares his status ("Those who know do not say; those who say do not know"), and yet in not denying the fact of there being something extraordinary (or purely ordinary) in their experience they allow others to identify them (the sage) with a quality of existence that carries with it the sense of wholeness, the sense of a final freedom, a joyous consummation." Carlsen then goes on to describe his own "enlightenment" in grandiose TM-speak as is so typical among its teachers and proponents.
(Many thanks to former students of Carlsen who've been very helpful in these reviews and who all wish to remain anonymous.) - Anon
-----
[Excerpts from The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment © Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, 1979, ISBN 09-20910-03-3]
Robin, by the grace of God,
will you manifest the essence of the heart of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen
Through the nervous system of creation,
Through the nervous system,
Through my nervous system
Through me,
Through my heart.
- a "sutra" from the Technique for the Discovery of Grace which extends the TM-Sidhi programme
It was getting late. There I was, about to begin the last of my six months in Switzerland; I had come here to achieve the final freedom--Enlightenment--and, in spite of the relative fulfillment of meditation, and my sense of the extraordinary sensitivity and intuition I possessed in relation to the others on this special course devised by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi for his teachers, I could not categorize myself as a "clear", the name given to those of us who could materialize the object of our desire at will, or at least who could perceive the truth of a given object or idea merely through the slightest intention in meditation. This was called "ritam", the Sanskrit term for pure perception. I later discovered these powers were but Maharishi's device to heighten the motivation of his teachers, keeping them enthusiastic about "experiences" in the absence of the final experience: liberation.
As a "hazy ritam" I joined one of the lesser evolved groups, and we were seated in a special section within the assembly hall whenever Maharishi came to visit. The interesting thing though was the obvious fact that many members of the "nil" group--those of us who had experienced no direct power over the environment--as often as not appeared more integrated in terms of personality and "presence" than the so-called "clears". I continued, however, to remain satisfied with the applied value of my ten years of regular meditation and nearly a year of intense "rounding"--the program of long meditation sessions broken up by asanas (yoga exercises) for the duration of the day--held in Europe under the direction of Maharishi. While others felt safe about claiming spontaneous ritam, I comforted myself with the knowledge that, when it came down to it, I was still the most appreciative of Maharishi, in terms of sensitizing myself to the subtleties of his heart, to the brilliance of his role.
But still caught in the agony of ignorance, knowing the bliss that was promised, and having had such a good taste of it both in and out of meditation--I was convinced that over the years I had experienced the basis of higher states of consciousness, including the character of cosmic consciousness and God-consciousness which Maharishi had proclaimed the two milestones of growth on the way to Unity consciousness, the state of fulfillment--knowing this I wondered when I would be released. Was there still something impure in my heart? I had to rule that out, simply because for the past ten years I knew how easily and creatively I could surrender to whatever experience, person, situation contained the element of holiness, of God, and I knew that my every waking moment was approached with a kind of absolute vulnerability and openness.
No, I knew my heart was pure; the only obstacle I could conceive of was karma: somewhere there were still some things that had to complete themselves, some of my transgressions had not yet been paid off in spite of all my meditation and giving. I knew too that my mind did not operate in the precise, orderly manner that would enable me to be as efficient in my activity as I had wished to be. It still took me plenty of time to compose a paper for a graduate course at university, and with all my acquired objectivity when I was faced with some challenge from the mechanical world, the world of "things" and how they worked, a self-definition would seize me up, and I would not experience the power and intuition that so easily and abundantly was there when, say, I was with people, or performing on stage, teaching school, attuning myself to the wisdom of Maharishi.
But even the limitations I have spoken of--efficiency and mechanical aptitude--seemed to recede as I experienced more and more bliss in my consciousness, ever increasing levels of refinement in my physiology, and such an obvious degree of radiant wholeness and love in my activity. Maharishi had begun to give us the special techniques that had been promised, and from the start I felt at any moment I could be overtaken by the reality of Unity. Just a few days before my historic walk in the Alps, I had gone up to Maharishi's room to express my fulfillment, for just that afternoon I had felt a long period of sustained egolessness and bliss that seemed so near to the final beatitude Maharishi had described and which had been the glory of Indian religion.
As it happened Maharishi had just gone down in the elevator as I was on my way up, and as I walked, innocently, and joyfully into the corridor towards his room I was met by one of his secretaries, John Cowhig, who, while in his manner congenial and supportive, advised me it was impolitic to wander into Maharishi's room without first seeking permission. I of course knew this, but had experienced the desire to see him as the expansion of life within me wanting to celebrate the joy of what he had conferred upon me. But sensing immediately the slight tension in John's demeanour I did what I was so often wont to do in my life: to turn the attention towards him, praising him, and indicating what prodigious acts of goodness he must have performed in earlier lifetimes to deserve the karma of being so close to Maharishi. (I later, as in the significance of the ritam groupings, discovered that there was not a simple causal relationship between ripeness of the heart, and proximity to Maharishi; some of the purest and most evolved souls who had come under the grace and guidance of Maharishi spent their time thousands of miles from his presence.) Once I had gauged the method of stimulating John's heart (and ego!) I quickly delivered myself from any kind of difficulty incurred by my unannounced visit. John happily agreed with my speculations about his fortunes, and I soon departed for my room, aware that it would be another time before I could express my gratitude--as spontaneous and overflowing as it was--to Maharishi. Also by this time the intensity of my experience of fullness had diminished, and I accustomed myself once again to renewing the program of evolution.
Several days later--Maharishi had returned to his hotel forty kilometres away in Seelisberg, we were in Arosa--I was lunching on the balcony that looked over Swiss meadowland; one of the course participants handed me an article from Time describing the Dalai Lama, formerly from Tibet, the recognized leader of Tibetan Buddhism in the world. The article spoke of his direct connection with Buddha and the thousands of people that had gathered to enjoy his darshan--the particular aura of holiness that is supposed to radiate from a saint. I read the article several times, and was about to discuss it with the friend who had first given me the article, when another friend, William H. [truncated], tapped me on the shoulder to remind me of a promised walk we were to take up the mountain. (Part of the program of the day called for daily walks after lunch in the vigorous Alpine air, this to stabilize the effects of the long sessions of meditation, and to breathe in the prana--life energy--of the mountain atmosphere.)
My friend was a poet of sorts, gentle, effortfully (at times) warm, and although I enjoyed his company, he did seem to often mistake sentimentality for pure and intense feeling. Some of his poetry, while sincere and "spiritual", lacked a rawness, a pungency that would enable the form to rise to the elevated level of the content. Some of it seemed merely the propagation of his obsession with a state of harmony and bliss.
And this is what we immediately began to discuss as we started our walk up the mountain path: the merits of didactic poetry versus imagistic poetry, or to be specific, the ultimate validity of describing in poetry a reality (God, Enlightenment) that was not
yet the reality of one's experience. William, as devoted and intelligent as he was, had not expressed his own individuality, his own agonies, and unfinished desires. I argued that no matter how limited so-called realistic poetry may seem--when, say, measured against the content of the scriptures--still it was preferable to lofty descriptions of ideas whose truth had not yet incarnated within one's experience.
We continued to argue--happily, boisterously--until we began the descent, a different and more circuitous route back to the hotel. While Bill walked ahead I stopped and began to feel a surge of expansion in my mind, which I immediately translated into a more animated and histrionic level of debate. As I shouted and acted out my thesis--we must speak from where we are in order to give a potency to poetic form--the whole sensation of perception, feeling, and thought began to alter. A rock face just to my immediate right began to transform into the most delicate and holy substance I had seen; it seemed as if the rock was composed of the breath of what could only be described as God: it floated in a shimmering of Beingness and appeared to be deathless and more effulgent than the sun. I felt the essence of my heart melting into the texture of infinity of the rock.
My friend by this time was asking what was happening, and by the look on my face, knew something powerfully expansive was taking place. I could not speak and by this time had fallen to my knees, turning in the opposite direction to give some respite to my exploding vision; here on the other side was the panorama of mountains, and they too assumed the form and reality of Beingness, of the most liquid yet ethereal immortality. I was moaning as I experienced all these boundaries of perception dissolving, and then, as I turned to look up into my friend's face, I saw the perfection of God shining from his face and body. I put my head down to touch the ground when suddenly my whole being began to flow out of its self, engulfing me in the same ocean of light which had swept over the rock face, the mountains, and my now Godlike friend.
And then I as if woke up. The spell was broken. I knew myself to have always existed. All my suffering, all my strivings, time, space, personal history was but a dream. There had never been anything but the light of consciousness. I had never been born nor would I ever die. Something disappeared forever, and I later came to know what that was. Something continued to form the apparent boundaries of Robin but the ego that had previously had so much to say about my sensation and experience of the world was now the individuated expression of what was the unmanifest reality of God.
With the completion of my being, I assumed a silence and inner repose, having been transformed into the actuality of what existence was. I was the substance, the reality that so obviously had its being before and beyond the phenomenal forms that before seemed to have an existence of their own. Now I had become invisibly one with something whose integrity could only be described as God, for I saw how that something was the essential character of everything, indeed was naught else but that something. I had lost everything only to gain everything, and that everything now supported and motivated the particular something I was, giving me a uniqueness that was the purest form of the universality which now was the primary reality of my existence and of my being.
By this time I spoke quietly and persuasively to my friend about what had happened--that I was "in Unity", the term all meditators and teachers were familiar with as equated with liberation, Enlightenment. Apparently my actions and my appearance during and immediately after the experience testified to the authenticity of what I now simply and innocently declared. The integration of my personality was suddenly absolute and every sensation of tension, worry, or doubt had dissolved leaving only the self-confidence of Being.
All of us on this course--about one hundred and fifty teachers, plus the thousand or so others located in different hotels in Switzerland--had come to achieve this condition of wholeness, and it was both natural and extraordinary that someone had finally "made it". My friend, given to effusive displays of affection, rejoiced in the miracle of having been present to witness my metamorphosis, divining quite remarkably the impulses which now carried me through each moment and which radiated in perfect harmony from my being. We began to walk while I described all the sensations of being unified with God, each sensation corresponding to the traditional descriptions found in Eastern scriptures and in the subtle analysis Maharishi had given us of higher states of consciousness.
Now, while I dwelled in my previous condition of separateness--ignorance--I had been sensitive to all the currents of feeling moving between people and within a situation. So much of my attention had been placed on attuning myself to those currents so I could adjust the movements within my own heart so as to respond and act in a manner which would heighten the flow of harmony and individuation within the situation, each moment. Such sensitivity, such action required an elaborate form of control and effort, gauging the slightest nuances of meaning evoked by those feelings, effectively bringing that meaning into a focused understanding--all this to make the moment charged with the maximum evolution.
Now I found myself helpless to impose the faintest amount of control; I was entirely powerless to influence what was happening through me and around me. Nothing could center itself from within that would allow me to manipulate or exercise some influence over what I was to think, say, feel, or do. Every impulse, every molecule in my being was now aligned with the eternal continuum of pure consciousness, the wholeness of what was absolute and unmanifest. The Robin that was still there enjoyed the faint illusion of will, desire, but the actual reality of all my actions had its origin and purpose in the supreme reality out of which I had come, the reality which had conceived of my "I"-ness. The contrast to my previous state of experience was staggering, for now, I could sensitize myself to the currents of feeling, yet all the while remain purely detached and, indeed, sensitize myself without inefficiently empathizing or involving myself in a way that made the experience complex; my mind remained free of all impressions; I felt spontaneously my actions to represent the perfect computation of all the variables in the cosmos relating to that one moment, the computation that would deliver the most evolutionary content, the most aesthetic style.
Three Swiss villagers were approaching us, two men and a woman, and I registered the grossness of the two men--crude, hard faces, a heaviness in their walk--and the relative purity of the woman, but at the same time, because there was nothing I could do in the situation but observe, I blissfully watched this fact: the contrast in beauty and sensitivity between the men and the woman, without experiencing the constellation of feelings and thoughts that would have overtaken me in ignorance and caused me to lament the woman's fate. I knew I could watch the death of my child without losing the integrity of my consciousness, the integrity of my emotions. I might--if it was called for--respond passionately, even violently, but at the most fundamental level I would remain wholly centred in the infinite serenity of Being, knowing as I did that everything had its existence, its dramatic forms in the repose of God Himself.
This, then, was the first real evidence of the application of my Enlightenment: the amazing contrast in my sensation of subjective experience in the face of a particular personal situation. (Each situation for me in ignorance was personal since I was always acutely aware of the quality and content of every feeling that was being expressed--this is what always captured my attention, often when such bias towards "The Personal" was not particularly the most efficient way of focusing to accomplish the task before me.) I walked away from the three Swiss villagers completely unchanged in spite of perceiving all of what I would have perceived in ignorance--more so in fact, since even my perceiving was being done for me. Instead of becoming involved in this scene I was immediately fresh and ready to absorb the specific meaning of the next moment, this that I might function in a way for the evolutionary benefit of the environment. And this was the glorious freedom I now enjoyed: without intending to do anything, everything I could have desired--and much more--was accomplished skillfully, effortlessly. Yet, in experiencing all this going on automatically, I nevertheless paradoxically had a more vivid sense of the pure individuality that was the purpose of these boundaries called Robin, having been created.
[Part 4 continues with excerpts from "The Sunnyside Drama: The First Three Years of Enlightenment."]
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 1
Robin Carlsen is one of many spin-off gurus from Transcendental Meditation.
A new essay will appear every few days, for a total of 8 essays, on Robin Carlsen's teachings. This may be of interest to those interested in the study of comparative philosophy between Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and his protoges.
Many thanks to the author of these essays for allowing us to publish this series onto TMFree. Introduction is provided by the anonymous author of the following 8 Essays on the teachings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, presented with permission by said anonymous contributor :
I had a large cache of Carlsen papers in storage from his first appearance on the scene in Fairfield. He was coming there and giving seminars, which as he was a theatre student at one time, were done in a theatrical, stage-type presentation. He would "confront" the demonic in a person in order to help them disengage from their 'resistance to God' or the Self. In the stage setting the person would go through a kind of catharsis, some of them quite dramatic. Of course eventually this lead to him punching and hitting his students on stage to disengage them from their demons. And that was the end of his growing following. He became a devotee of Roman Catholicism and Padre Pio, the famous stigmata saint and then just disappeared. While there was a rumor passed around by the TM Org that he had committed suicide, I recently received an email from an old friend of Carlsen's indicating he was still quite alive.
All the papers went into a box long ago and I recently came across them while going through old books. He put a lot of stuff into writing: his initial enlightenment in Seelisberg, Switzerland, his first years as an enlightened being, his correspondence, a children's book, his meeting with Khomeni, etc. As people bailed from his trip, I got a lot of other stuff his old students had, so they too went into storage. Since they detailed some interesting times in the TM movement, I decided to get them out and share some relevant excerpts. After all, this was the first person Mahesh had recognized as being enlightened. The first real "governor of the age of enlightenment".
********************
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 1
"From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography"
In 1972, Robin Woodsworth Carlsen headed on his journey towards the goal of all serious TMers, the Cosmic Consciousness. Here begins the journey with his teacher training in what TMers believe is the fastest vehicle known for discovering the pure consciousness within and the unified field of all the laws of nature: Transcendental Meditation™. It was only after this special training that he would be a suitable vehicle to "bring others to transcendence" through direct training from "the most beautiful and highest human being on earth", His Holiness the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, lineal descendant of His Divinity Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, Shankaracharya and Jagadguru from Jyotir Math. This Transcendental Meditation™ was so scientific, systematic, and perfect that, if practiced correctly, it guaranteed success for its meditators, a veritable "science of consciousness" for the individual.
It was this course of action that was to be eventually "culminating in a final and all embracing deliverance" for Carlsen: enlightenment at long last.
(Many thanks to former students of Carlsen who've been very helpful in these reviews and who all wish to remain anonymous.)
-----
[Excerpts from From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography © Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, 1980, ISBN 0-920910-06-8]
In the meantime I was on my plane to New York where the charter was to leave for Geneva. The location of the course was about ninety-five kilometres east of Geneva, in the town of Villars. Before leaving for New York I had a stay over with my mother who was teaching psychology at an eastern university in St. Catherines, Ontario. This relationship was fully equal in its intensity and purity to my relationship with Sarah, and it was a time of grace for us both as I awaited the announcement of the charter, which had, for the purposes of excitement been delayed for several days. The wholeness, the warmth of the heart dominated our visit, and I knew I had gradually won her over to the value of meditation, something she began while I was in Switzerland.
But it was at the airport in New York that I first felt the awesome bliss of what I was headed for: there they were, over a thousand young souls embarked on the journey of their lives. They seemed filled with energy and silence, all while they entertained themselves, meditated, and sensed the exhilaration of what awaited them: Himalayan wisdom, transcendence, a divine ordination.
Nature made me perceive what was highest and most radiant in each would-be teacher, and I later realized this phenomenon: being used by Nature (that which controlled and directed the destiny of the universe) to place my attention on a certain aspect of a situation in order to sustain the inspiration of my heart. In this case it was dramatically necessary at this stage of my evolution to be moved by the purity and grace of my situation. Thus, the majority of the people gathered at the airport seemed holy and chosen. (It was not until later that this vision altered, and I realized how beneficially my perception had been manipulated.) But this is one of the gifts of being able to stay objectively vulnerable: in spite of one's "ignorance" one can be "played" by the divine in such a way as to attend to the specific and appropriate experience and meaning most conducive to evolution, most conducive to the individuation of one's soul. It may amount in some sense to a kind of "blindness", but that blindness is in the service of a greater seeing: for my heart, for the majesty of the goal (Enlightenment) it was important that my consciousness dwell only on the celestial, the innocent, the positive.
Throughout the flight I concentrated on resting and preparing myself for the pilgrimage to Godhead. Switzerland seemed an ideal place to purify oneself, to obtain the knowledge that would enable one to bring others to transcendence. It was at this time that I believed the ceremony and choosing of a mantra to be that which placed one in such a relationship to God that one was "given" the particular mantra right on the spot. As it turned out it was more mechanical than that, but not altogether inferior in the effects it produced, effects more transforming for the teacher than the student.
But here I was, finally guaranteed the precious wisdom and experience that for me was the greatest secret in the universe. And I would have personal contact with the most beautiful and highest human being on earth. (Certainly he was for me and the thousands of other teachers and meditators fortunate enough to experience him first hand; even now there is little question that Maharishi towers above all the leaders of the world, religious or otherwise; but the verification of this claim lies in the consciousness of the beholder; suffice to say that if the masses were as open to Maharishi as they were to the Pope, they would have encountered an experience of charisma, purity, wholeness of an entirely different order.) The mountains, the meadows, the lush pastureland, the cleanliness and order--all made Switzerland the next best thing to Maharishi's ashram in India. (Although from the point of view of luxury, convenience, climate, spectacular scenery, Villars--the site of the three month course--was probably much more suitable, if less spiritually romantic.)
The hotel was high in the mountains just above the town of Villars, and our bus trip from Geneva delivered to my senses the most Eden-like experience. Here was tradition preserved in the most beautiful forms: vineyards, chalet architecture, castles, ancient churches, and a sense of life as custom, as ceremony, as simplicity. The spirit of Switzerland was to welcome the wisdom of India and it was to be high in the Alps where all my purest illuminations would take place, culminating in a final and all embracing deliverance.
All my life had prepared me for this moment. The suffering; the "serving of time" as a school teacher, as a husband whose eyes were on heaven while his loved ones (excepting his child) saw only the earth, held in the darkness of what was only relative; the incommensurable facts that alienated Miranda from my heart and made me acquiesce in a lesser happiness--all this was but the karma, the purgatory, the ripening necessary to deserve and to appreciate fully the opportunity before me. The highest gifts must always come at the right time, and although I may have yearned to be here with Maharishi and possessed of the knowledge of liberation much earlier, it was only now that the strength, the integration was adequate to the immensity of responsibility this situation placed before me.
In the draw I received a spacious and beautiful room with a balcony, looking over the valley and across at another range of serene, chaste-looking peaks. No, there was absolutely nothing that I could have wished to alter; this was the most idyllic course that Maharishi had ever structured, the one hundred and forty participants selected for this hotel nearly all professional people or over twenty-five, and I settled down to a vacation undreamed of by any travel agency. And I experienced everything having been created for me, that all deprivation previous to this moment was simply the means to allow me to enjoy the affluence (spiritually and materially) of this situation.
Our course leaders, John and Sarah Konhaus were both bright, commanding, and dignified--especially John, who had an almost seraphic translucence to his face and presence. The first stage consisted of memorizing exactly the procedure known as "checking", the systematic method of verifying whether someone was meditating correctly. This was an enormous challenge; mastering the minute, meticulous details that enabled one to handle any complaint, any experience of a meditator, giving him the precise knowledge and procedure necessary to defeat his problem and provide the soothing renewal of innocent contact with Being, transcendence. It was an amazing accomplishment of Maharishi's: that here was a formula, that no matter who administered it, was perfect, successful, foolproof. In its logic, in its systematized steps, it took in every possible contingency and computation. The thing was to be able to automatically, effortlessly utter the exact wording called for in each specific situation. And in our training every possible variation and "problem" was presented to the "checker", determining whether his memorization was complete.
For myself it was less enjoyable than the anticipation of the actual knowledge, the wisdom we would receive later--the science of consciousness, the blueprint of Creation, the tradition of the Veda, and of course the ceremony and technique of imparting the knowledge and procedure of Transcendental Meditation. But at the same time, the discipline, the exactitude required to pass this stage of the training was not only necessary but purifying, since it made certain one's commitment to the proposition of teaching was complete, unqualified. Color videotapes of Maharishi speaking at earlier courses comprised--in addition to our "rounding": meditation, yoga breathing (pranayama), and hatha yoga (asanas)--the program for the day. In each tape there was the absoluteness of Maharishi's consciousness and heart as it surveyed each aspect of existence, each aspect of evolution.
Maharishi visited us two or three times each month, and his presence was enough to both elevate and humble my spirit, for while I was pure enough to behold his beauty and grandeur, I could also feel how finite and flawed my own individuality was. His purity was so penetrating and flame-like, that one's own impurity was exposed mercilessly. One part of me rejoiced in the objective vision I had of just what he was; another part of me wept that I was still defiled by my ignorance. But the course moved along and in single-minded devotion I absorbed everything that was essential, everything that I felt was there for me to take.
The other individuals on the course seemed more ordinary than when I had first seen them at the airport, but the artistic and intellectual elements within the group provided me with a challenge--my heart I knew to be unchallenged by anyone there, although I did find a pure companion in the form of a young poet who would later accompany me on my final journey to the Center. But no matter what surrounded me I knew my responsibility was a purely spiritual one, that although we were in a hotel, served sumptuous meals, could purchase Swiss chocolate in town, the situation was internally at least the same as the monk who wandered in search of his Master in the Himalayan caves--finding him one surrendered everything and became obsessed with one thing only: Enlightenment. For this, absolute devotion was required and a renunciation of the superfluous; in this case, everything not directly associated with one's evolution.
So for myself, despite the comfort of Western-style living, the various temptations--dalliances with the opposite sex, Time magazines, tourist expeditions, late night rendezvous--I found it easy to be ascetic and one-pointed, that indeed, the situation was ideal for my desires. I thus remained fairly solitary throughout the course, and then, just as we began to learn the ceremony of instruction, another drama was contrived by the forces of perfectibility: a young woman came to our course along with half a dozen other persons to administer testing--to refine our skills in this last procedure: the invocation to the tradition of Masters with whom this Teaching was secured. Maharishi was the most recent of a line of famous teachers, beginning with the great saint and Master of India, Shankara, who had purified the knowledge stemming from the Rig Veda, which originated some five thousand years ago. Shankara had brought the knowledge of transcendence (and meditation) out of the grip of ignorance and established the Shankaracharya Tradition from which Guru Dev, Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, Maharishi's Master, had come.
The girl and her associates were trained teachers of TM, and because of their financial status were able to remain in Europe with Maharishi, receiving the blessing of his presence, working to organize and develop the worldwide Movement from its center in Switzerland. Maharishi had sent them to our hotel in order to give us the individual attention necessary to master the demanding coordination required to gracefully, aesthetically perform the ceremony of initiation. "Elizabeth" we'll call her, was an attractive, intense girl, a wealthy scion from established New England stock. Again, although completely focused on the task at hand--there were less than two weeks before our formal baptism by Maharishi into his teacherhood, I was overcome by the power that drew us together, and before long, all kinds of subtle cues were coming that made it impossible to ignore the significance of this event.
For the final ten days of the course we moved to Vittel, France, and it was there I succeeded in mastering the final steps of initiation plus remaining vulnerable to the potent meaning and experience of being with Elizabeth. When I considered it rationally, the whole thing was absurd: what was I, a married man, devoted to the purist ideals of the Shankaracharya Tradition, involving myself in an affair with a beautiful woman, another teacher? But again, there was no denying the divine wholeness that contained and resolved this apparent paradox: it was through the alchemy of this relationship that I moved even closer to God, and even to Maharishi, a monk!
Now the interesting thing was that Elizabeth, although an experienced teacher, was extremely unstable--brilliant, intuitive, but troubled and confused. But the particular intelligence that played through us allowed an extraordinary amount of purification and expansion to take place, and revelations important to the understanding of the destiny of our souls. Ambivalent then as it was, the relationship worked evolutionary wonders; every emotion, every encounter, every development seemed to unfold innocently, and I felt how, in spite of her weaknesses, Elizabeth was a conduit for some vital experiences that had to attach themselves to my soul that I could become the particular actor in this great cosmic drama that my existence had implied.
On the final night--actually, about 2:00 a.m.--when Maharishi was to make us teachers, and we were to meet briefly with him on a personal basis, the heavens declared the sanctifying of the circumstances that had embroiled me in this dissonant situation. Meeting with Maharishi, receiving an advanced technique, meditating, and then visiting with Elizabeth just before climbing onto a bus back to Zurich where our charter was to depart for New York, I felt how everything had come together, and how Elizabeth had been used for my evolution. As complex and subtle as she was, her main purpose (this, as determined by Nature, not herself) had been to produce those kinds of emotional, intellectual experiences that would further prepare my soul for its final anointing, and for the specific destiny that awaited it in the wake of that anointing. My heart had been innocent enough to become the means to allow Nature to create an experience in apparent violation of the rules, and, in a persuasive sense, beyond the ability of its central element--Elizabeth--to fulfill. However, as before, the rest of Creation could be divinely distorted in order to harmonize the elements of my soul.
Returning home December 22nd, I stopped over briefly in New York where I learned first-hand about subways and Jewish tradition--my brother, a converted orthodox Jew, could not meet me at the airport on the Friday evening of my arrival because it was after dusk. Here I had my first meeting with my nephew, Benjamin, who I suspected had sensed some powerful spiritual atmosphere within the Carlsen clan, not the least of which was associated with a tradition perhaps more effective--in producing genuine religious experience--than his own father's. (All this as he made his decision to incarnate.)
On the ferry to Staten Island I saw the Statue of Liberty and wondered how so many millions of people could live with an idea of freedom without yearning to touch the purest freedom of all: the pure consciousness within them. In the subway I felt protected by a shield of grace; here I was in the tense pulsations of a metropolis, possessed of the knowledge that would bring about the serenity that was Godhead. No one knew who I was, yet my soul moved invisibly over all of them, confident that in time they too would awaken from the nightmare of their ignorance.
[ Click here to read Part 2 continues with more excerpts from "From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography."]
A new essay will appear every few days, for a total of 8 essays, on Robin Carlsen's teachings. This may be of interest to those interested in the study of comparative philosophy between Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and his protoges.
Many thanks to the author of these essays for allowing us to publish this series onto TMFree. Introduction is provided by the anonymous author of the following 8 Essays on the teachings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, presented with permission by said anonymous contributor :
I had a large cache of Carlsen papers in storage from his first appearance on the scene in Fairfield. He was coming there and giving seminars, which as he was a theatre student at one time, were done in a theatrical, stage-type presentation. He would "confront" the demonic in a person in order to help them disengage from their 'resistance to God' or the Self. In the stage setting the person would go through a kind of catharsis, some of them quite dramatic. Of course eventually this lead to him punching and hitting his students on stage to disengage them from their demons. And that was the end of his growing following. He became a devotee of Roman Catholicism and Padre Pio, the famous stigmata saint and then just disappeared. While there was a rumor passed around by the TM Org that he had committed suicide, I recently received an email from an old friend of Carlsen's indicating he was still quite alive.
All the papers went into a box long ago and I recently came across them while going through old books. He put a lot of stuff into writing: his initial enlightenment in Seelisberg, Switzerland, his first years as an enlightened being, his correspondence, a children's book, his meeting with Khomeni, etc. As people bailed from his trip, I got a lot of other stuff his old students had, so they too went into storage. Since they detailed some interesting times in the TM movement, I decided to get them out and share some relevant excerpts. After all, this was the first person Mahesh had recognized as being enlightened. The first real "governor of the age of enlightenment".
********************
The Writings of Robin Woodsworth Carlsen: Part 1
"From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography"
In 1972, Robin Woodsworth Carlsen headed on his journey towards the goal of all serious TMers, the Cosmic Consciousness. Here begins the journey with his teacher training in what TMers believe is the fastest vehicle known for discovering the pure consciousness within and the unified field of all the laws of nature: Transcendental Meditation™. It was only after this special training that he would be a suitable vehicle to "bring others to transcendence" through direct training from "the most beautiful and highest human being on earth", His Holiness the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, lineal descendant of His Divinity Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, Shankaracharya and Jagadguru from Jyotir Math. This Transcendental Meditation™ was so scientific, systematic, and perfect that, if practiced correctly, it guaranteed success for its meditators, a veritable "science of consciousness" for the individual.
It was this course of action that was to be eventually "culminating in a final and all embracing deliverance" for Carlsen: enlightenment at long last.
(Many thanks to former students of Carlsen who've been very helpful in these reviews and who all wish to remain anonymous.)
-----
[Excerpts from From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography © Robin Woodsworth Carlsen, 1980, ISBN 0-920910-06-8]
In the meantime I was on my plane to New York where the charter was to leave for Geneva. The location of the course was about ninety-five kilometres east of Geneva, in the town of Villars. Before leaving for New York I had a stay over with my mother who was teaching psychology at an eastern university in St. Catherines, Ontario. This relationship was fully equal in its intensity and purity to my relationship with Sarah, and it was a time of grace for us both as I awaited the announcement of the charter, which had, for the purposes of excitement been delayed for several days. The wholeness, the warmth of the heart dominated our visit, and I knew I had gradually won her over to the value of meditation, something she began while I was in Switzerland.
But it was at the airport in New York that I first felt the awesome bliss of what I was headed for: there they were, over a thousand young souls embarked on the journey of their lives. They seemed filled with energy and silence, all while they entertained themselves, meditated, and sensed the exhilaration of what awaited them: Himalayan wisdom, transcendence, a divine ordination.
Nature made me perceive what was highest and most radiant in each would-be teacher, and I later realized this phenomenon: being used by Nature (that which controlled and directed the destiny of the universe) to place my attention on a certain aspect of a situation in order to sustain the inspiration of my heart. In this case it was dramatically necessary at this stage of my evolution to be moved by the purity and grace of my situation. Thus, the majority of the people gathered at the airport seemed holy and chosen. (It was not until later that this vision altered, and I realized how beneficially my perception had been manipulated.) But this is one of the gifts of being able to stay objectively vulnerable: in spite of one's "ignorance" one can be "played" by the divine in such a way as to attend to the specific and appropriate experience and meaning most conducive to evolution, most conducive to the individuation of one's soul. It may amount in some sense to a kind of "blindness", but that blindness is in the service of a greater seeing: for my heart, for the majesty of the goal (Enlightenment) it was important that my consciousness dwell only on the celestial, the innocent, the positive.
Throughout the flight I concentrated on resting and preparing myself for the pilgrimage to Godhead. Switzerland seemed an ideal place to purify oneself, to obtain the knowledge that would enable one to bring others to transcendence. It was at this time that I believed the ceremony and choosing of a mantra to be that which placed one in such a relationship to God that one was "given" the particular mantra right on the spot. As it turned out it was more mechanical than that, but not altogether inferior in the effects it produced, effects more transforming for the teacher than the student.
But here I was, finally guaranteed the precious wisdom and experience that for me was the greatest secret in the universe. And I would have personal contact with the most beautiful and highest human being on earth. (Certainly he was for me and the thousands of other teachers and meditators fortunate enough to experience him first hand; even now there is little question that Maharishi towers above all the leaders of the world, religious or otherwise; but the verification of this claim lies in the consciousness of the beholder; suffice to say that if the masses were as open to Maharishi as they were to the Pope, they would have encountered an experience of charisma, purity, wholeness of an entirely different order.) The mountains, the meadows, the lush pastureland, the cleanliness and order--all made Switzerland the next best thing to Maharishi's ashram in India. (Although from the point of view of luxury, convenience, climate, spectacular scenery, Villars--the site of the three month course--was probably much more suitable, if less spiritually romantic.)
The hotel was high in the mountains just above the town of Villars, and our bus trip from Geneva delivered to my senses the most Eden-like experience. Here was tradition preserved in the most beautiful forms: vineyards, chalet architecture, castles, ancient churches, and a sense of life as custom, as ceremony, as simplicity. The spirit of Switzerland was to welcome the wisdom of India and it was to be high in the Alps where all my purest illuminations would take place, culminating in a final and all embracing deliverance.
All my life had prepared me for this moment. The suffering; the "serving of time" as a school teacher, as a husband whose eyes were on heaven while his loved ones (excepting his child) saw only the earth, held in the darkness of what was only relative; the incommensurable facts that alienated Miranda from my heart and made me acquiesce in a lesser happiness--all this was but the karma, the purgatory, the ripening necessary to deserve and to appreciate fully the opportunity before me. The highest gifts must always come at the right time, and although I may have yearned to be here with Maharishi and possessed of the knowledge of liberation much earlier, it was only now that the strength, the integration was adequate to the immensity of responsibility this situation placed before me.
In the draw I received a spacious and beautiful room with a balcony, looking over the valley and across at another range of serene, chaste-looking peaks. No, there was absolutely nothing that I could have wished to alter; this was the most idyllic course that Maharishi had ever structured, the one hundred and forty participants selected for this hotel nearly all professional people or over twenty-five, and I settled down to a vacation undreamed of by any travel agency. And I experienced everything having been created for me, that all deprivation previous to this moment was simply the means to allow me to enjoy the affluence (spiritually and materially) of this situation.
Our course leaders, John and Sarah Konhaus were both bright, commanding, and dignified--especially John, who had an almost seraphic translucence to his face and presence. The first stage consisted of memorizing exactly the procedure known as "checking", the systematic method of verifying whether someone was meditating correctly. This was an enormous challenge; mastering the minute, meticulous details that enabled one to handle any complaint, any experience of a meditator, giving him the precise knowledge and procedure necessary to defeat his problem and provide the soothing renewal of innocent contact with Being, transcendence. It was an amazing accomplishment of Maharishi's: that here was a formula, that no matter who administered it, was perfect, successful, foolproof. In its logic, in its systematized steps, it took in every possible contingency and computation. The thing was to be able to automatically, effortlessly utter the exact wording called for in each specific situation. And in our training every possible variation and "problem" was presented to the "checker", determining whether his memorization was complete.
For myself it was less enjoyable than the anticipation of the actual knowledge, the wisdom we would receive later--the science of consciousness, the blueprint of Creation, the tradition of the Veda, and of course the ceremony and technique of imparting the knowledge and procedure of Transcendental Meditation. But at the same time, the discipline, the exactitude required to pass this stage of the training was not only necessary but purifying, since it made certain one's commitment to the proposition of teaching was complete, unqualified. Color videotapes of Maharishi speaking at earlier courses comprised--in addition to our "rounding": meditation, yoga breathing (pranayama), and hatha yoga (asanas)--the program for the day. In each tape there was the absoluteness of Maharishi's consciousness and heart as it surveyed each aspect of existence, each aspect of evolution.
Maharishi visited us two or three times each month, and his presence was enough to both elevate and humble my spirit, for while I was pure enough to behold his beauty and grandeur, I could also feel how finite and flawed my own individuality was. His purity was so penetrating and flame-like, that one's own impurity was exposed mercilessly. One part of me rejoiced in the objective vision I had of just what he was; another part of me wept that I was still defiled by my ignorance. But the course moved along and in single-minded devotion I absorbed everything that was essential, everything that I felt was there for me to take.
The other individuals on the course seemed more ordinary than when I had first seen them at the airport, but the artistic and intellectual elements within the group provided me with a challenge--my heart I knew to be unchallenged by anyone there, although I did find a pure companion in the form of a young poet who would later accompany me on my final journey to the Center. But no matter what surrounded me I knew my responsibility was a purely spiritual one, that although we were in a hotel, served sumptuous meals, could purchase Swiss chocolate in town, the situation was internally at least the same as the monk who wandered in search of his Master in the Himalayan caves--finding him one surrendered everything and became obsessed with one thing only: Enlightenment. For this, absolute devotion was required and a renunciation of the superfluous; in this case, everything not directly associated with one's evolution.
So for myself, despite the comfort of Western-style living, the various temptations--dalliances with the opposite sex, Time magazines, tourist expeditions, late night rendezvous--I found it easy to be ascetic and one-pointed, that indeed, the situation was ideal for my desires. I thus remained fairly solitary throughout the course, and then, just as we began to learn the ceremony of instruction, another drama was contrived by the forces of perfectibility: a young woman came to our course along with half a dozen other persons to administer testing--to refine our skills in this last procedure: the invocation to the tradition of Masters with whom this Teaching was secured. Maharishi was the most recent of a line of famous teachers, beginning with the great saint and Master of India, Shankara, who had purified the knowledge stemming from the Rig Veda, which originated some five thousand years ago. Shankara had brought the knowledge of transcendence (and meditation) out of the grip of ignorance and established the Shankaracharya Tradition from which Guru Dev, Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, Maharishi's Master, had come.
The girl and her associates were trained teachers of TM, and because of their financial status were able to remain in Europe with Maharishi, receiving the blessing of his presence, working to organize and develop the worldwide Movement from its center in Switzerland. Maharishi had sent them to our hotel in order to give us the individual attention necessary to master the demanding coordination required to gracefully, aesthetically perform the ceremony of initiation. "Elizabeth" we'll call her, was an attractive, intense girl, a wealthy scion from established New England stock. Again, although completely focused on the task at hand--there were less than two weeks before our formal baptism by Maharishi into his teacherhood, I was overcome by the power that drew us together, and before long, all kinds of subtle cues were coming that made it impossible to ignore the significance of this event.
For the final ten days of the course we moved to Vittel, France, and it was there I succeeded in mastering the final steps of initiation plus remaining vulnerable to the potent meaning and experience of being with Elizabeth. When I considered it rationally, the whole thing was absurd: what was I, a married man, devoted to the purist ideals of the Shankaracharya Tradition, involving myself in an affair with a beautiful woman, another teacher? But again, there was no denying the divine wholeness that contained and resolved this apparent paradox: it was through the alchemy of this relationship that I moved even closer to God, and even to Maharishi, a monk!
Now the interesting thing was that Elizabeth, although an experienced teacher, was extremely unstable--brilliant, intuitive, but troubled and confused. But the particular intelligence that played through us allowed an extraordinary amount of purification and expansion to take place, and revelations important to the understanding of the destiny of our souls. Ambivalent then as it was, the relationship worked evolutionary wonders; every emotion, every encounter, every development seemed to unfold innocently, and I felt how, in spite of her weaknesses, Elizabeth was a conduit for some vital experiences that had to attach themselves to my soul that I could become the particular actor in this great cosmic drama that my existence had implied.
On the final night--actually, about 2:00 a.m.--when Maharishi was to make us teachers, and we were to meet briefly with him on a personal basis, the heavens declared the sanctifying of the circumstances that had embroiled me in this dissonant situation. Meeting with Maharishi, receiving an advanced technique, meditating, and then visiting with Elizabeth just before climbing onto a bus back to Zurich where our charter was to depart for New York, I felt how everything had come together, and how Elizabeth had been used for my evolution. As complex and subtle as she was, her main purpose (this, as determined by Nature, not herself) had been to produce those kinds of emotional, intellectual experiences that would further prepare my soul for its final anointing, and for the specific destiny that awaited it in the wake of that anointing. My heart had been innocent enough to become the means to allow Nature to create an experience in apparent violation of the rules, and, in a persuasive sense, beyond the ability of its central element--Elizabeth--to fulfill. However, as before, the rest of Creation could be divinely distorted in order to harmonize the elements of my soul.
Returning home December 22nd, I stopped over briefly in New York where I learned first-hand about subways and Jewish tradition--my brother, a converted orthodox Jew, could not meet me at the airport on the Friday evening of my arrival because it was after dusk. Here I had my first meeting with my nephew, Benjamin, who I suspected had sensed some powerful spiritual atmosphere within the Carlsen clan, not the least of which was associated with a tradition perhaps more effective--in producing genuine religious experience--than his own father's. (All this as he made his decision to incarnate.)
On the ferry to Staten Island I saw the Statue of Liberty and wondered how so many millions of people could live with an idea of freedom without yearning to touch the purest freedom of all: the pure consciousness within them. In the subway I felt protected by a shield of grace; here I was in the tense pulsations of a metropolis, possessed of the knowledge that would bring about the serenity that was Godhead. No one knew who I was, yet my soul moved invisibly over all of them, confident that in time they too would awaken from the nightmare of their ignorance.
[ Click here to read Part 2 continues with more excerpts from "From Ignorance to Enlightenment: An Autobiography."]
Thursday, December 20, 2007
What Makes M.U.M. unique? A Student Video
"When you meet the friendliest people you have ever known, who introduce you to the most loving group of people you've ever encountered, and you find the leader to be the most inspired, caring, compassionate and understanding person you've ever met... and all of this sounds too good to be true, it probably is too good to be true! Don't give up your education, your hopes and ambitions, to follow a rainbow."
Jeanne Mills, Former member of the People's Temple,1978
(JonestownSurvivor)
"What Makes M.U.M. Unique?" A student video
The people, by and large, are wonderful!
To maintain group connection, one slowly learns to ignore the under current of dysfunction. Such blinders are limiting and may be hazardous.
Watch the film, you will hear familiar scripted inspiration. One young woman even sits in a quasi-asana. Utopia.
Jeanne Mills, Former member of the People's Temple,1978
(JonestownSurvivor)
"What Makes M.U.M. Unique?" A student video
The people, by and large, are wonderful!
To maintain group connection, one slowly learns to ignore the under current of dysfunction. Such blinders are limiting and may be hazardous.
Watch the film, you will hear familiar scripted inspiration. One young woman even sits in a quasi-asana. Utopia.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Hurdy Gurdy Man (Maharishi) Pull$ the $tring$
Donovan Plans Meditation University
Donovan HomePage
Personally, twice daily catnaps are great! The Maheshism cult is dangerous!
Donovan HomePage
Personally, twice daily catnaps are great! The Maheshism cult is dangerous!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
No Force or Coersion
How we could sit hour after hour and listen to the same story about enlightenment is unbelievable. Those lecture halls were filled with promising and brilliant people. How could this be except for brain washing? Oh, the frustration of explaining in a coherent way that that is what happened!
His ways are gentle; THERE IS NO FORCE OR COERSION IN TM; ONLY SUGGESTION! Maybe we are all much more suggestible than we think we are. Think about Coca-cola; those icy adds, Santa Claus and cookies, the good times; Coke sells and NO ONE IS FORCING ANYONE TO DRINK.
I think that TM brings up uncategorizable concepts, so that people can't easily say. "OH, that doesn't make any sense!" It talks about a realm of reality or so called reality that most of us here in the West have never heard of; no wonder we don't know what to do with the information! So, we just figure there's something else to learn and we go sign up for the Magical Mystery Tour, as the Beatles described the new life that comes of it!
His ways are gentle; THERE IS NO FORCE OR COERSION IN TM; ONLY SUGGESTION! Maybe we are all much more suggestible than we think we are. Think about Coca-cola; those icy adds, Santa Claus and cookies, the good times; Coke sells and NO ONE IS FORCING ANYONE TO DRINK.
I think that TM brings up uncategorizable concepts, so that people can't easily say. "OH, that doesn't make any sense!" It talks about a realm of reality or so called reality that most of us here in the West have never heard of; no wonder we don't know what to do with the information! So, we just figure there's something else to learn and we go sign up for the Magical Mystery Tour, as the Beatles described the new life that comes of it!
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