Leslie's story: "The Truth Pissed Me Off"

This is another unsolicited, contributed story from a former TM meditator, Leslie (not her real name). She points out the habits that TM critics are quite familiar with: pervasive narcissism, isolation, avoidance, and dependence on others to live a life that's supposedly "without stress." Ultimately, for some, living with a long-time meditator, who's living a lifestyle centered on TM and adopting the movement's pervasive belief system - a lifestyle and belief that TM's proponents consistently maintain, does not exist - may be hazardous to your health.

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Stock photo, not the contributor. (Shutterstock)

I learned TM in 1999 after meeting my husband-to-be, who was a long-time meditator and "Siddha." Soon we got married--and I moved from the U.S. to Europe where he lived. We would meditate together every day during the entire length of our marriage--15 years. 

We never joined any of the advanced programs due to the fact that we never had the funds to do so (or I should say, I never joined because he had already taken those advanced programs long before we met). But we started to get very interested in the developments in Fairfield, Iowa and the "Global Country of World Peace." We would have moved to Iowa if we had the funds. In a way, we had been in the "fringe" of the movement, just meditating on our own. My ex-husband did not practice the Siddhi program very often, and when he did, I never saw him do the yogic flying or even hops, only twitches in the body. He never told me any details about this program due to his "secrecy" vows. Through him, I learned about the many fantastic benefits of moving up on the Consciousness ladder, and he often described how "superior" he was in his physical perceptions, his creative power and his ability to read people--attributing those to the TM and Siddhi program, leading me to aspire to one day be able to take the advanced courses and move toward "Cosmic Consciousness."

During the entirety of our marriage, the theme of "living without stress"--one of the promises of TM--was prominent. It was his life goal and he made sure he did his part--he quit his job as soon as I moved in with him, letting me do all the hard work to bring home the bacon. Since then he never held any meaningful jobs for more than a short period of time. After 15 years of this, I was anything but "free from stress." However, "thanks to" the daily meditation, I felt I could go on with this lifestyle because it was helping me de-stress and forget about life's struggles. After all, we lived a life rather isolated from the rest of the world and felt "free" in our own world. But I developed a serious physical illness because of frustrations of not being able to develop a meaningful career for myself due to the need to support his creative career. I also had bouts of depressive episodes, burnout and suicidal ideation. Sometimes I would have outbursts of anger due to this internal frustration, but was gaslighted and my feelings dismissed.

It's time for... Transcendental Meditation Commenter Bingo!

This bingo card is culled from, and inspired by, comments on the TM-Free Blog Facebook page in recent months, and also from my experience online over the past 25 years. Particularly that free square in the middle!

This card is mostly based on the comments from meditators defending TM, but two squares are from the Christian, "TM will steal your eternal soul and cause demonic possession" sort of viewpoint, to which we don't subscribe nor support.

The dubious research claims of Transcendental Meditation, part 5: The bottom of the barrel of published TM research articles

Read this series from the beginning.

Read the previous installment of this series (Part 4).

David W. Orme-Johnson. From "Inaugurating the
Dawn of the Age of Enlightenment," 1975

We here at the TM-Free Blog have received a comment from David W. Orme-Johnson. He’s a former Maharishi University of Management psychology department chairman and a frequent defender and promoter of TM research studies. I’ve mentioned him and his website a number of times in previous parts of this series, “The dubious research claims of Transcendental Meditation.” He submitted his comment in response to the second part posted here at the TM-Free Blog on September 22, 2019, subtitled ‘"Peer review" doesn't always mean "quality" or "accuracy.”’ In 2015, he claimed to have no formal affiliation with the TM movement on his website, but a published comment that same year indicated that he was then associated with the “Research Desk, Maharishi Foundation USA.”

As a matter of editorial policy, the contributors to the TM-Free Blog don’t particularly care to reprint the TM movement’s marketing materials. There are thousands of TM movement operated or affiliated websites worldwide that serve that purpose. There is also, of course,  Orme-Johnson’s own website, “Truth About TM,” that contains plenty of defenses of TM research and a few rebuttals of critics from his point of view, that’s evidently very similar to that of the TM organization. Parts of his submitted comment are of a promotional nature, therefore I won’t be running his comment in the comments, or as a post, verbatim.

The "evidence-based" claim, as it appears on the
tm.org website at the time of this writing.

I may write up a full response to Orme-Johnson’s comment at some later date. Since this is a series about the usual claims made by the TM movement, particularly with respect to research findings and how they are represented, particularly with respect to being published in “peer-reviewed” journals, I will respond here to two elements of his comment. The first part of his comment further illustrates the problems with TM research that contradict the TM movement’s claims that, among other things, Transcendental Meditation should be considered “evidence-based” because of this body of research studies. He wrote:

The second paper the blog uses to criticize TM research is a preliminary study by the late Sarina Grosswald and co-authors on ADHD. In children with ADHD, the study showed statistically significant reductions in stress, anxiety, and improvements in ADHD symptoms and executive function. The authors were obviously not naïve about experimental design, as the blog portrays them, because they said in the title that this was “An exploratory study”. 

This passage in Orme-Johnson’s comment leaves me chuckling to myself. The idea that calling their work “an exploratory study” excuses blatant problems and errors in their methods is, in my view, ridiculous. If the experimenters really wanted to draw serious attention to their work, which makes a rather novel if not controversial claim, why wouldn’t they take particular care to ensure that what they were doing wasn’t obviously problematic? Relying on self-reporting and self-controls, ensuring that the schools’ most prominent authority figure was an enthusiastic TM meditator, and coaching the student subjects to expect positive results - and recording that coaching on video! - are not excusable because the study was “exploratory.” If anything, these faults show that the claimed results were most likely the result of the kind of wishful thinking and confirmation bias common among TM meditators, and aren’t really worth considering for further study. But a paper like this, published in a third- or fourth-rate journal, provides the kind of story that’s commonly circulated among TM insiders, that reinforces, for them, that what they’re doing, spending time and money on, is a valid and worthwhile cause. It also provides fodder for press releases that are sent to reporters who aren’t in a position to approach these matters with the skepticism, resources or time to do anything other than to publish these claims verbatim without the most basic examination of how these conclusions were reached.

The dubious research claims of Transcendental Meditation, part 4: When "peer review" becomes "meditator review"

Read this series from the beginning.

Read the previous installment of this series (Part 3).

Cover of the final volume of the
Journal of Social Behavior and Personality.
Does this look like a legitimate, independent scientific journal to you?

As I’ve discussed in earlier parts of this series, the organizations that offer Transcendental Meditation (TM), including the David Lynch Foundation (DLF), have long claimed scientific legitimacy and validity for all the claims they regularly make for TM on the basis of scientific research. They imply that the fact that this research has “appeared in many leading, peer-reviewed journals” is as good as a formal stamp of approval, for the accuracy and legitimacy of everything they say in support of TM.

But what do they really mean when they use the phrase, “peer-review?” Earlier, I quoted David Orme-Johnson, the retired psychology department chairman at the TM movement’s university, Maharishi University of Management (MUM), who is currently a promoter of TM by way of his “Truth About TM” website:

Moreover, one purpose of the peer-reviewed process is to screen out studies that may have been biased by the orientation of the investigators. The numerous published studies on the Transcendental Meditation program have met the high standards of peer-review.

In the course of sorting through many of the research papers often cited on lists of TM research that appear on the tm.org website and elsewhere, I came upon an important detail, in a paper written by David Orme-Johnson and two other Maharishi University of Management staffers. This is in the context of a critique of two National Research Council (NRC) reviews of the research on meditation published in 1991 and 1994. Their critique is largely centered on their opinion that the NRC’s reviews did not include certain studies that would have supported their position that TM produces beneficial physical and mental effects that do not occur with other forms of meditation, and that TM provides greater relaxation, greater improvements in human performance, and other benefits compared to other methods, that went unreported in the NRC review.

Near the end of their critique is this statement, which I think is a rather extraordinary demonstration of a basic ignorance or outright avoidance of the scientific method, that I also think contradicts his earlier comments on the bias of investigators, with emphasis added by me:

How can we insure objectivity in future reviews of technologies from non-Western cultures or from radically new scientific paradigms that may be outside the knowledge and experience of the reviewers? We suggest that half of the membership of review committees for new or controversial research be comprised of researchers from different universities or research institutions who are practitioners of the technology in question, who have published research in the field, and who are well conversant with the theoretical frame that informs the research.

So there you have it in their own words. They are suggesting that half of the people who review research on Transcendental Meditation should be meditators themselves; that is what they mean by “practitioners of the technology,” because another name for Transcendental Meditation is the “Maharishi Technology of the Unified Field.” I suppose the phrase means very little if, as is true of most people, including scientists, you aren’t familiar with the background on Transcendental Meditation to recognize that reference. The “Unified Field” pseudonym for TM was frequently used during the early 1990’s in various TM related publications, and it’s defined that way on page 26 of the first, 1987 edition of Bob Roth’s book on TM. (It doesn’t appear in later editions of that book, but it’s mentioned in numerous other publications around that time.)

Ashley's story: My experience of my husband's journey into Transcendental Meditation

Stock photo of a generic young couple, not the contributors.
(scop.io)

Here's the second of the personal stories contributed by Tony and Ashley (not their real names), a couple who were challenged by Tony's involvement with the Transcendental Meditation program. This is Ashley's recounting of her experience, in which she explains how she watched her husband both gain some benefits from TM practice, while his behavior and beliefs changed in ways she found uncomfortable and disturbing. She describes in detail how an individual's priorities can radically change over time through TM involvement, beginning with simple twice-a-day TM, to the point of threatening their marriage. All of this occurred despite the frequently repeated claims by TM teachers that TM doesn't involve a change in beliefs or lifestyle. Fortunately, as Tony recalled in the first part, he disengaged from the TM program and they're now working to bring their relationship back to normal.

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My experience of my husband's journey into Transcendental Meditation: 

A few years ago my husband Tony announced that he would like to learn Transcendental Meditation. He'd been looking into various mindfulness apps and still hadn't found what he was looking for. At this time he suffered from crippling social anxiety to the point where it was difficult for us to even have a normal social life, so I agreed that this was worth a try. The cost seemed pretty exorbitant and part of me was skeptical, but if this form of meditation worked the way it said, it would it all be worth it. 

There were a few odd things about the course: Despite being "non-religious" it started with a ritual involving prayer, fruit and a handkerchief but this was no big deal really and he did love what he learned. Despite my doubts, my husband threw himself into this new regime of meditating morning and night for 20 minutes, and indeed it did seem to be working. We could now go to a dinner party or drinks with his colleagues without him becoming agitated and withdrawn on the way there. In this one small way TM had changed both of our lives for the better and it had all been worth it. The daily meditation continued like clockwork. 

My husband started going along to weekly meetings at his local TM center which was only 10 minutes walk from our house. He'd found an exciting new interest and wanted to meet others who practiced TM. He went along to an advanced course which would set us back about an extra US$ 600. I didn't mind the cost but I was quite surprised when he seemed to be back from the course within an hour or so each day. Surely a weekend course costing that much money would be all weekend? 

He continued his meditation through the following months and there were more advanced courses and a few weekend retreats. These were very regimented programs of relaxation which sounded awful from an outsider's point of view but he loved them, so I was keen to be supportive. 

I can't pinpoint at exactly what point in the process my husband began changing his belief system, but I remember some very uncomfortable discussions where he was telling me things that just sounded plain crazy as non-negotiable facts. Some of these facts were: 

• That if he did enough advanced courses he could learn "yogic flying," a basic form of beginner levitation that would eventually lead to him being able to fly.
  
• That a certain number of people doing yogic flying together could stop wars and car accidents in other parts of a country where yogic flying was happening.
  
• That some kind of a forcefield of goodness was created by meditators, especially those practicing yogic flying.
  
• That everyone in the world must do TM in order to live fully to their potential.
  
• That TM was the answer to climate change. 

Tony's story of his journey through, and out of, the TM program

We’ve received here at the TM-Free Blog, a dual submission of personal stories, from Tony, a meditator, and his wife Ashley. Their names have been changed to protect their anonymity. Here's Tony's story, which starts with his search for a meditation practice, and ends, while deciding not to proceed with the TM-Sidhis, also known as the "Yogic Flying" course, with the realization that he'd "been handing over my mind to the TM organization in exchange for 'Enlightenment.'" He also talks frankly about the balance between the benefits of TM that he experienced, and what those benefits might have eventually cost him if he'd continued down the path of deeper involvement with the TM program.

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Photo illustration of a TM lecture, with video.
(Shutterstock/BBC World Service)

I’ve always been interested in the non-physical world, lightly dabbled in various meditations and read various spiritual books over the years. However, in 2016, I decided to make a go of practicing meditation. I wished to find an inner sense of stability in life and not get as stressed internally about upcoming events or past failures. 

The most popular way that didn’t involve a teacher was using the Headspace app to develop a mindfulness meditation practice. I practiced this daily for a few months and indeed found benefits of more control of my reactivity in stressful or pressured situations, such as at work. This was great but I felt like the meditation was a lot of hard work for the mind, struggling to bring it back to focus on something all the time, and I had the feeling there must be a more effortless technique out there. I stumbled upon Transcendental Meditation (TM). I was disappointed in not being able to find much about the technique online - it always said one needs to learn it from a teacher. However, as my luck would have it, I found a TM teacher close by so I signed up for an intro talk. I was a bit confused about why the teacher wouldn’t tell me much about the technique itself, they just went on and on about the benefits. However, I was intrigued and had to find out if it was indeed that beneficial. 

So, a few months later I learned TM from this certified teacher. In my very first meditation (at the instruction session) I experienced a profound settling of my mind - moments of beautiful silence. This seemed encouraging. As it seemed very expensive given the length of the course (about US$ 1000 for 1 hr/day over 4 consecutive days), I was very dedicated to doing the prescribed 20 minutes morning and 20 minutes in the evening every day without fail. Within my first week, my social anxiety dropped to virtually zero. I realized this one day when about to go to a social gathering and the very uncomfortable feeling of wanting to get out of my own skin and run and hide from the world was simply gone. Over the next few months, the enjoyability of my meditations always varied - mostly on the enjoyable side. Once back from our 2 month summer vacation, I made sure to attend the free Thursday evening TM center group meditations with the hope of maximising my progress. 

During these Thursday group sessions, after the 20-minute group meditation, the teacher would show videos of Maharishi (the founder of TM) talking on various subjects. I found listening to Maharishi’s answers rather long-winded, and he didn’t always make total sense to me. Meditation seemed to be enhancing my life by slowly but surely giving me a sense of inner calm. Thus I had developed quite an enthusiasm for promoting it and would find myself recommending it to other people and talking about it whenever the chance arose in conversation. 

OOPS! New York Times promotes cultic Transcendental Meditation

On February 12, 2019, Marisa Meltzer, NYT's Wellness Columnist's article describing Transcendental Meditation could have been a purchased advertisement by the organization. She describes the meditation as a 20-minute exercise that could be performed anywhere (click here to read the article), but does not question anything about the method or organization, accepting all as promoted.

While the writer seems to enjoy the twice daily rest, she fails to review the cultic aspects of the larger organization. She does not mention upselling to further courses, TM-Sidhis' mystical so-called powers, Ayurvedic therapies, gemstones, architecture, nor an elaborate global network of businesses, people, and finances.

The article unintentionally describes the early stages of succumbing to cultic influence. After listing a host of celebrity promoters of TM, she wonders "Could TM give me the artistic vision of George Harrison?"

Describing TM's private instruction, she describes the small room with a puja ritual, an altar with fruit and flowers, kneeling to a Sanskrit chant, as if none of this would be in conflict with a so-called "scientific technique". She was sworn not to divulge her secret two-syllable mantra. She does not. 

She mentions follow-up sessions, checking of meditation, an old video of Maharishi, then continues to meditate on her own at home. The TM office is described as simple, "lacks the decor of some of today's buzzy wellness clinics. Instead there's a staff that seems genuinely devoted to teaching and will hold your hand through the learning process." The current cost of learning TM, "based on a sliding scale of income, from $500 to $960 for the course. There are discounts and scholarships for students, veterans, domestic abuse survivors and other populations."

Sounds harmless enough.

This piece promoting Transcendental Meditation exposes the author already beginning to ignore her critical thinking. The piece normalizes secretiveness of TM's mantra, kneeling before an altar during a Sanskrit chant to learn a supposedly scientific practice. There is no information about the organization or its many controversies. 

The concluding description of her meditation experience is no different from merely day dreaming or taking a walk twice daily, "but letting them (thoughts) just happen and not act on them for 20 minutes has given me some perspective for the rest of my day. What if I let more of my thoughts just sort of travel in and out without taking the time to obsess over them?"

So, why not just daydream twice daily or take a walk without the expense and cultic allure of Transcendental Meditation?

Perhaps Maharishi was correct that charging people to learn Transcendental Meditation would assure their continued practice and involvement, and willingness to promote.

I'll take a walk.

the end of playing the game

TM: religion, cult, science? 

Sure, why not! 

It's how you play the game, plain and simple. 

An old-time friend wanted to know why I, such a devoted, committed, true-believer (in the old days), quit TM. When I said I began to feel that I was living a lie, he declared a whiff of bovine excrement. He was right.

It was so much more than that. But the words that told the story were short in coming, suddenly. Hard to believe, I know, given my propensity for rants.

What was really going on? what had really gone on?

Some folks find that TM is ok, lets them feel rested and lets them go about their business feeling free-er ... ok, less stressed. Is that a lie, too? Mahesh said, I thought quite rightly, that we judge the effectiveness of meditation by our results in activity. I don't know any TMers any more. Haven't met one in years. Are they good, kind, effective, happy people? Does anyone know? Or is expecting to find good, kind, effective, happy people anywhere a contemporary myth and fantasy?

Unfortunately, like drivers on the highway, we only notice the ones who cause accidents, vehicular trouble. Just as unfortunately, I met lots of TM casualties. To me, they were "proof" that there was something absolutely NOT universal about Mahesh's panacea. Something whiffy about the TMO party-line.

When I compare the true-believing big-wig organizational whoo-has on YouTube (including the head whoo-ha, David Lynch) I wonder just who Maheshism is benefiting, other than whoever is in charge of Mahesh's bank account. I don't see and hear solid-based logic and clarity. I hear proselytising and belief-based fantasy. Perhaps I am jaded (oh, horrors). Yet, I think that is not the case. Logic is logic and I hear alternative-logic, alternative-facts and lofty "spiritual" crap-speak.

Any ideas? experiences, commentaries?

Friends tell me that Leigh Remini's TV episodes on Scientology are informative, worthwhile watching. I shy away from even clarifying-cult talk; it's just too full of the old days, somehow. Will there, ever/someday, be a post-TM-version of Leigh Remmini's courage, clarity and forthcoming? I hope, but do not restrain my respirations.

Mahesh envied Hubbard (his apparent success, anyway) and I guess, like the current U. S. President, tried to outdo what he considered a rival. I see a lot of similarity between Mahesh (the one I knew in private) and the very public current President. One shudders at the thought of what goes on in private in the oval office one hears so little about! but that's probably another story inappropriate for this Blog.

So, what are current TMers like, the Fairfield variety, the ordinary other-than-Fairfield variety, the run-of the mill variety? do they talk like the YouTube variety? are they really successful, skilled in action and so on?

 I, a curious reader, want to know.

Review of "Greetings from Utopia Park; Surviving a Transcendent Childhood" by Claire Hoffman

Greetings from Utopia Park; Surviving a Transcendent Childhood

by Claire Hoffman

(2016) HarperCollins Publishers, New York, 265 pages

Claire Hoffman offers a tender and honest memoir about her childhood in Transcendental Meditation’s mecca in Fairfield, Iowa. Born in 1977 to parents practicing Transcendental Meditation (TM), Claire lived in TM’s Iowa community from age 5-16. For those seeking a full exposé about TM's lifestyles, this would not be the story for you.

The preface opens with the author in present time, in her mid-thirties. As a successful journalist, she is a happily married young mother living away from cult origins. She returns to her former community to resolve what she labels as youthful cynicism. She wants to believe and thus registers for an advanced TM program to learn to fly. Belief versus cynicism is the thread winding through her narrative.

Clare then weaves a beautifully written story from the 1970’s seduction of her hippy parents by the Beatles’ guru during TM’s heyday. The young adults find Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s promise of inner tranquility, world peace, and eventually a community with other meditators to be a welcome respite from their own abusive childhoods. Claire is their second child. When her father stops practicing TM, succumbs to alcoholism, and abandons his young family in New York City, her mother lacks the means to support her children. Initially they relocate from New York to the Florida home of Claire’s grandmother, then resettle in Fairfield, Iowa with Maharishi’s so-called “Ideal Society” outside his university. 

Young Claire eagerly anticipates enrolling in her third kindergarten that year to join classmates who share a lifestyle and also practice TM’s childhood mantra meditation, or “Word of Wisdom” - she quickly learns she will not attend Maharishi’s private school because the private tuition is prohibitive. Instead, she and her brother attend a local public school where classmates taunt them as “Ru’s”, short for “Guroos”. An anonymous sponsor eventually enables Claire and her brother to attend Maharishi’s school. She happily dons the requisite blue jumper and bow tie to blend with other children who together sing Maharishi songs, learn their guru’s teachings interwoven with the three R’s, and receive grades for meditation.

When they move into one of two hundred dilapidated trailer homes in “Utopia Park”, Claire and her brother merge with a close-knit subculture of unsupervised children who create excitement while parents daily attend hours of group “Program” meditation. A few unusual childhood deaths provide a shadowy backdrop to other childhood mishaps. She has a close brush with a man who befriends children and targets Claire alone for physical exploration; she runs from his apartment while he showers with the bathroom door open. She mentions others’ stories of wild teenage explorations, fathers who have affairs with teenage babysitters, and easy access to recreational drugs. She describes her world as “binary”, divided between those who follow Maharishi’s teachings versus those who are not to be trusted. Their mother struggles financially through a series of jobs with meditator companies and a series of heartbreaks with sequential boyfriends. In contrast to her family’s struggles, Claire provides a brief overview of TM’s history and mentions Maharishi’s multibillion dollar global empire.

Their father becomes sober and reenters the lives of his now adolescent children to explain that they live in a cult. Her father is a writer who encourages his children to express themselves. As Claire prepares to enter high school, her anonymous sponsorship for Maharishi school evaporates. She enrolls in Fairfield’s public high school along with other TM kids who are stigmatized because their families cannot afford Maharishi School. She finds her way with “townie” teens. After a drug laden party at an abandoned rock quarry, sixteen year old Claire can no longer tolerate the confusing lifestyle. She apologizes to her mother and joins her father in California to finish school and pursue mainstream education and lifestyle.

The story jumps forward fifteen years to find Claire, an accomplished professional, flipping perspective on her early years. She holds a faculty position with the University of California and has published articles in the New York Times, Washington Post, and Rolling Stone. With a supportive husband and crying baby, Claire has a crisis of meaning in her seemingly mundane life. She misses her community and connection to a higher purpose. In an ironic twist, she writes she misses the “safety” of her childhood community. 

TM luminaries David Lynch and Bobby Roth invite Claire to meetings in Los Angeles with Hollywood celebrities recently recruited to Transcendental Meditation, causing her to question her youthful cynicism. She feels that her negativity from a TM childhood should not interfere with celebrities’ benefitting from TM. Lynch and Roth meet individually with Claire, tempting her back to her roots. The memoir concludes as it began. Claire attends advanced meditation retreats and returns to her childhood home to learn TM’s advanced meditation to fly, bouncing on high density foam. She experiences the inner bliss that initially captivated her mother. However, she fails to mention the $5,000 price tag for TM’s advanced flying program; she does not disclose her mystical meditation mantra nor advanced techniques. When Claire's daughter learns her “Word her Wisdom”, she reveals her meditation mantra is “wisdom” which Bobby Roth verifies. Claire is surprised that it’s not a meaningless sound, but fails to mention TM’s touted meaningless sounds are derived from Hindu deities.

In the Epilogue she reflects that utopia didn’t exist, but the quest for bliss, satisfaction and inner peace were hard to relinquish. She states the TM Movement was not a failure, and that her community was not fooled. She acknowledges their sincere desire to build utopia and pursuit of a shared dream… “what mattered was the believing. The willingness to believe is everything.” She admits that today “. . . one of the hardest things to see are the staff members who have worked there for decades, giving their time and their lives to a cause that is no longer there. Their guru is dead and the fortune he amassed from his followers is being fought over in Indian probate court.”

The author tenderly describes both idealism and frank details of destructive neglect in her childhood community. However, when summarizing TM’s scientific benefits, she does not question research methodology, nor mention alternatives.

In the acknowledgements section Claire thanks lifelong friends, alluding to other experiences, “I know you all have different lenses with which you view our shared past but I hope you recognize the one you read here.” She thanks Bobby Roth for “his openhearted invitation to me to keep Transcendental Meditation in my life, despite my cynical and questioning heart. It is in many ways thanks to him that I still practice - and enjoy - meditation today.” She is grateful for her mother’s love and hard work to raise her children, stating that this memoir “is really just a bumbling, inept love letter to her and to the religious experience, even though it may not always feel like it.”

Claire’s humble and honest memoir is a quick read. I recommend “Greetings from Utopia Park” for one perspective on making sense of a confusing cult childhood.

As reviewer, I must state my inherent bias. I was also raised in TM. My conclusions differ from those expressed by Claire Hoffman in “Greetings from Utopia Park”. Claire and I share many personal connections, much as would distant cousins in a small community. Some TM kids, now adults, tell me Claire’s story mirrors their own. Others share more gruesome tales. Unlike Claire Hoffman who concludes with an upbeat note about TM, my own cynicism remains unabated even as I love people from my past. I suspect that Bobby Roth and David Lynch lured Claire back to the dissociative high of TM’s prolonged meditations because her journalistic skill risked exposing their organization. In this memoir, Claire does not reveal TM’s mystical mantras nor the price tag of TM’s advanced programs, thus sheltering key first steps to cult indoctrination. She glosses over mention of TM’s many costly add-ons and monastic programs. When reading that Claire’s daughter’s mantra is “wisdom”, I wondered - did the TM Movement change mantras from Sanskrit to English after Maharishi's death? Or only for Claire’s daughter? In either case, there is no magic.

HOW I MADE THE MANTRA GO AWAY

one of our readers has sent us his TM story:

HOW I MADE THE MANTRA GO AWAY

by Dave H.

When I tell my friends that I once was involved with a cult, their eyes get wide and their response is generally, “You?” And then they want the details.

So I tell them that I was one of those people who got caught up in Transcendental Meditation when it was sweeping the U.S.A. in the 60s and 70s. I explain the initial meetings, the Puja ceremony, the post initiation checking meetings, etc. I even tell them that for awhile, TM actually brought me some benefit.

I was never one of those uber-movement types, although I did attend a residence course or two in Fairfield, Iowa, where I was introduced to “rounding” and the whole TM thing took further root. Had I not awakened, I could have easily been drinking the Kool-aid.

Then MMY announced that we could all learn to levitate and the Sidhis program was launched. The shock of it forced me to examine what I had become involved with and thankfully, the critical thinking I had learned in college began to kick in. Levitating? Becoming invisible? How could I belong to an organization that advanced such thinking and demanded high fees for the “knowledge?”

I immediately stopped doing TM and promised myself I would never think my mantra, “Shirim,” again.

But it wouldn’t go away. For over a decade that pesky mantra would creep into my thoughts: waking, sleeping, dreaming. At first I gave it no notice, just shutting it off whenever it would appear. But after many, many years of putting up with it, combined with all of the wacky stuff coming out of the TM movement, its continued presence became a major concern for me. I wanted it gone.

I consulted with a therapist, a very capable person, but not experienced in cults. He suggested that I pretty much do what I had been doing, shut it off when it showed up in my thoughts. But that was not good enough for me.

I live in a very beautiful part of Southeast Minnesota, an area with 300-foot bluffs and an incredible paved bicycle trail system. One weekday summer morning I walked out a couple of miles on the trail. Not many people out there that early in the morning. I stopped on a bridge and decided to shout Shirim as loud and as many times as I could. It was strange how guilty I felt for even thinking about doing this. Guilt and fear manifested themselves, as if something really bad would happen to me. That’s how deeply the movement hooks had gotten into my psyche. 

But I did it. I shouted that mantra out into the light of day, loud, clear and often. Then I came back a couple of days later and repeated the experience. And then a third time.

It didn’t happen overnight, but after a couple of weeks I noticed that the mantra and I were no longer joined at the hip, and its encroachment into my life began to diminish. And today, it doesn’t show up at all.

When I read of all the junk that the true-believers in the TM movement accept as truth … Jyotish, Yagyas, Sidhis and such … I am so blessed to have my once-abandoned critical thinking skills and pleased that the mantra no longer has power over me.

And all I had to do was shout it into the atmosphere.