What if the whole history of the TM movement were an outgrowth of a young bhakti's attachment to the object of his love, and desire to have that love "requited" in the form of appreciation of the work that he did on his behalf?
I don't think many of us here know much about Guru Dev and his personality. People make assumptions about his enlightenment, but hey!...even the enlightened have personalities. What if his was a bit on the gruff side, as some of the photos hint at, and he was less than emotionally open to those around him? Or, what if, having been brought up in a tradition in which one does not often praise those around them openly because that might lead to the development of ego in odd ways, he never praised those who worked with him and for him? And what if one of those who worked for him were a young bhakti who was just head over heels in love with Guru Dev (and please get your minds out of the gutter...I am NOT, even for a moment, suggesting any kind of 'unnatural' love here, merely head-over-heels bhakti) and who worked his butt off for him every day, doing menial jobs and what- ever needed to be done around the ashram? What if the process of doing that -- performing selfless service -- got the young bhakti high as a kite and even opened for him a few glimpses into higher states of con- sciousness? And what if that were cool, but what the young bhakti *really* wanted, more than anything else in life, was for Guru Dev to turn to him one day and say, "Mahesh, you're the best?" And what if that never happened? What if the object of this love just up and died one day, without ever having said it? What if the young bhakti were so distraught that he threw himself into the Ganges, trying to follow his beloved teacher to the grave? Time passes. The young bhakti is still fixated on Guru Dev, still heavily attached to him, and still wanting to serve him, because service is really the only thing that really got him high. Besides, in his heart he's still hoping to hear Guru Dev say someday, "Mahesh, you're the best." Think about Maharishi's fascination with the story of Trotaka, and about the importance he has given that story in his teachings. What was the outcome of that story? Someone saying, "Trotaka, you're the best." So the young bhakti puts together some meditation tech- niques and begins to teach them. He goes to the West, finds it receptive to these techniques, and an organiza- tion forms. And as it forms, he subtly (and probably unconsciously) shapes it to resemble the situation he grew up in. There is One teacher, One source of knowledge, One chain of command, and this time he's the One. And almost from Day One, a strong part of the dogma he teaches is that this set of teachings is "the best." As more and more people join the organization, the dogma extends to measures to try to ensure that no one within it has much opportunity to learn otherwise. Prohibitions about reading books from other spiritual traditions arise; after time they are actually enforced with shunning within the organization or, if the need arises, removal from the organization. And a subdogma arises about how the faithful should *think* of those who have been removed from the organization, or worse, have chosen to leave it on their own. They are to be pitied for having lost the Way, and they are to be shunned if encountered, and they are to be badrapped to others if their name comes up in conversation. The image of "the best" is preserved. And the young man whose spiritual teacher would never tell him that he was "the best" becomes the person whom most of the people in the organization consider "the best." And then, karma being the real pain in the ass that it is, the young man gradually becomes an old man, and along the Way has to deal with what being considered "the best" can DO to an ego. These are just random thoughts on a holiday afternoon here in Paris, sitting at a sidewalk café sipping a fine Saint Émillion Grand Cru and thinking about Maharishi. You're getting them as they flow by, unpolished, un-thought- through. They're Just Another Café 'What If' Story. But I like the story because it makes me smile, and think even more positively about Maharishi than ever. What if all of this were true? What if, to some extent, the whole history of the TM movement were really based on a young man's attachment to his spiritual teacher, and his desire to hear four simple words: "Mahesh, you're the best?" What if that really *were* what it was all about? Well in my book that would be just fine. Look at what the man did. He managed to turn millions of fellow human beings on to the joys of meditation and the pathway to enlightenment. In one way or another, he will continue to do so even after his own death. That's a nice thing to have done with one's life, *whatever* the reasons for doing it might have been. The karmic value of any actions are in the results of the actions, not in the intent of those actions. The value of performing the service is in the service, not in the motiva- tions for the service. And as far as I'm concerned, Maharishi, the results of your actions and your service may well "weigh out" on the positive side on the olde karmic scale. Go easy to your rest. And, just in case my café ramblings have any resemblance to reality, and Guru Dev never said it to you, I shall raise my glass to you and say it myself: "Mahesh, you're the best." Uncle Tantra, 5 mai 2005, Paris To subscribe, send a message to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Or go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FairfieldLife/ and click 'Join This Group!' Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FairfieldLife/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
