Ashrams, Baptists and Expectations

I just returned from an 11-day stay at an ashram. Loved this place, loved everybody I met there. Much respect for what they've done and what they're doing, but it reminded me of Baptist church camp.

I went for a bodywork training seminar, which the ashram hosted. It was a lovely but unusual place for professional training, I thought, because the religious overtones of the setting were so pervasive. The food was fantastic, but no coffee or meat were served in the dining hall because of the organization's moral code. There was a lights out at 10 o'clock rule. Men and women were forbidden to sit in the sauna together, even if everybody was wearing bathing suits. At lunch in the dining hall, we all were expected to be silent for several minutes while somebody read religious teachings out loud. There was lots of devotional chanting in Sanskrit.

What I'm going to talk about next is going to seem like a digression, but I promise to tie it in: Nothing has had a bigger effect on my feelings about organized religion than the Jonestown Massacre and the extended media hysteria which followed. I was in fourth grade, and the first long magazine article I read on my own was a Time magazine piece about Jim Jones' brainwashed colony in Guyana. The term "brainwashing" and discussions about it became ultra-trendy. We were all on guard against those who might turn us into cult zombies.

A summer or two later I went with my church youth group to my first camp experience. I was terrified, because to me it appeared to be a very obvious brainwash operation. Get people (insecure teens) away from home, away from their comfort zone, put them in intense situations of singing and getting preached at by somebody who's emotional and appeals to their fears, make them cry and they'll accept Jesus. God knows, you can't get "saved" without a big old scene if you're Baptist, and if you don't get saved you're going to HELL.

I think everybody on that trip got saved but me. I liked the people at church, enjoyed some church-related events, but came to completely distrust it because as an organization, it seemed to have an ulterior motive. Give your mind up to me, it seemed to be saying. Belong to me. You have no worth until you become one of us and do what we expect.

I don't think the ashram folks are as heavy-handed in the brainwashing tactics as the Baptists, but since I didn't participate in any core ashram operations, I can't say for sure that they aren't as controlling. One thing I do feel certain of is that we face brainwashing tactics on a day-to-day basis in secular life. In politics, peer groups, families, and at work. Think about advertising's wiles and the last guilt trip you got from a relative, and maybe you'll see what I mean. Because it's in most cases illegal to physically force others to do things they don't want to, everyone has learned a fine set of coercion tactics to use on others. We brainwash each other to get what we want, and organizations do it to us so they can use us more efficiently and to make themselves stronger. The most successful people in life are often the most manipulative. Whistleblowers and truthsayers are frequently lonely and poor.

One thing I loved about the ashram was the social support for yoga practice and meditation. It's a lot easier to maintain your good habits if you can do them with other people. After about five days of yoga in the morning and meditation once or twice daily, I felt an increased capacity to think clearly and with generosity. So belonging to a group does have its benefits, and can help you become stronger as an individual.

But: one afternoon as I sat in meditation, I felt somebody step up and stand behind me - right behind me and too close for comfort. I looked back and no one was there, but I couldn't shake the sense that someone was standing over me with a severe, disapproving on his/her invisible face. I'd never had an experience like that before and it made me anxious.

Finally I realized this sense of disapproval felt familiar. It was the one I'd gotten from my grandmother in our last conversation before she died, as if she was picking up where she left off. You'd think that people newly arrived on the other side would have bigger issues to worry about than individual beefs with family members like you don't visit enough, you don't go to church, you don't do enough for your mother and in general you don't live up to my expectations. Or maybe she was pissed that my religious activity did not directly involve Jesus. But oh well. I said a prayer for her, though it probably wasn't the kind she wanted.

During my stay at the ashram, I had an unpleasant conversation with my mother. I believe she was angry because I didn't call to wish her a happy birthday the day before, and I was angry because she wasn't thankful for the books I'd sent her for her birthday. I was ratcheting up for a classic annoyed brood about this, but realization kicked in. She's angry with me because I'm not living up to her expectations. I'm angry with her because she's not living up to my expectations. We've both suffered much because we couldn't live up to my grandmother's expectations, and we're suffering now because all that's left unresolved. Expectations are hell.

I resolved to stop the expectation buck, to give myself permission not to let my mom make me feel bad, and I felt more room for compassion for her. It made me feel like a grown woman. I hope I can keep doing that.

Comments

[Tina]

Really good post, Verona. I enjoy reading your writing very much.

[Doug]

Doctrines may change, but human nature never does.

[Bily The Blogging Poet]

"Whistleblowers and truthsayers are frequently lonely and poor."

Sad but on so true...