In October of 2008 we had a short festival with our little community in New Plymouth. There were about 100 devotees there, or something like that. It was in part to celebrate the birthday of the Guru that many of us shared. It is traditional for disciples to celebrate the date of their Guru's birth with some celebrations, as a form of gratitude.
A few of the monks in the monastery were of the opinion that I was given special attention by our Guru. The leader of our monastery sometimes mentioned this in a rather sour tone. I don't know if it is entirely accurate, but I do know that I was treated differently, I think in part because of the responsibility I held in my position as manager and organiser.
In the lead up to this festival my Guru called me and asked me to meet him at the airport in New Plymouth, a day or so before the festival was to start. He told me to catch a bus to a stop near the airport, and then make my way to the airport however I saw fit. I hitchhiked the rest of the way, which he approved of on several occasions. We spent the night together in a little bed and breakfast in New Plymouth, in a building that used to be a residence for Catholic Nuns. We sang some songs together, and had discussed practical matters about the running of the monastery. I always felt like there was a caring friendship there.
In the morning I helped him with his breakfast, and with his Chinese herbs he was taking. Then, we packed our things back up and made our way to the retreat centre that would be the site of our weekend festival. He had a separate accommodation set up for himself, in a small little house right beside the retreat centre. There was no cell phone reception here, and no internet. I took it as a chance to focus without the distractions that the internet brought. After unloading his belongings into the house, he talked about where his assistant would stay during the weekend. He asked me what I thought about his assistant sleeping under the stars on the deck. I laughed and asked if he was referring to ME sleeping under the stars. As it turned out, he was, though he must have noticed that I wasn't so keen on the idea. In the end he arranged for a vehicle for me to use for the weekend, to run back and forth from the retreat centre and his house, and that was spacious enough for me to put the seats down and sleep in. I think I ended up with the most comfortable bed out of anyone at the festival that weekend.
During the days of the festival I pretty much exclusively sat in my Guru's house, reading, or chanting or chatting with him. Or overhearing his conversations with others. I didn't get to really hang out with any of my friends there that weekend, but I didn't really mind. It was nice to have a break from the monastery life, to not have to worry about responsibility so much. Just to have some peace and quiet.
Sometimes, during other visits, my Guru would invite me over and let me sit in and listen to conversations he was having with other people. I think the main reason he did this was so that I could learn something from the conversations, including how to deal with problems and issues that arose. I often felt that he had big plans for me, sometimes he would hint that that was the case. During this festival I overheard a lot of interesting conversations, there were two things I overheard in particular, I think during one conversation, which really stood out to me.
The first had to do with how to reconcile contradictions between scripture and science. This had always been something I struggled with personally, especially given some ideas that most Hare Krishnas held dear. In my first year as a Hare Krishna I remember having a discussion with a friend about how he wanted to start doing outreach work at the university in Wellington by focusing on controversy, and he wanted to start by publicly opposing evolution. I responded by saying that I don't think that evolution runs counter to the principles of the religion we were following. I was happy to see, over the past year or so, some Hare Krishnas tackling this issue publicly. I don't see how evolution can be taken as a challenge to theism. There are also some interesting, yet incredibly confusing descriptions in the Vedic scriptures regarding the structure of the universe. It's not at all simple stuff to understand, and often devotees would get misunderstand aspects of it, but cling tightly to their misunderstandings. One such misunderstanding if the widely held belief that the scriptures say that the moon is further from the earth than the sun is, which, strictly speaking, is not a concept mentioned in the scriptures it is said to come from. I had many arguments with devotees about this over the years.
In the conversation I overheard during this festival, I heard my Guru make the comment that the best approach to take is the humble approach. If we admit that, actually I don't really know what the scriptures are describing, but I also don't know how to understand or comprehend what the scientists are describing, or how they came to their conclusions, but I accept that the scripture is correct, I just don't know HOW it is correct. In one sense, I guess that is an honest approach, but personally I didn't find it a very satisfying one. I was getting tired of having to reach around my head to touch my nose in order to explain these aspects of the scriptures which didn't at all correlate with the seen world around us.
At the time, the same friend who had previously made the comment about publicly opposing evolution was doing an about-face in terms of how he approached science and the scripture. We had a few chats, though I was still attempting to reconcile science and scripture, he was taking a more radical approach. He made the point that aspects of the philosophy were amazing as standalone philosophies, like the suffering in the world because it's temporary nature, the concepts of Vedic theology, which were very beautiful, the nature of the self etc. But then there were aspects which just seemed beyond belief, and fantastical. He was at a point where he seemed to be approaching the fantastic with caution, but embracing the parts he appreciated. This pick and choose approach wasn't very much appreciated by the wider community.
So, overhearing this conversation left me wondering how to reconcile it all. It felt anti-intellectual to say that the best approach is an "I don't know but scripture must be right", I didn't feel like I could take that on. I think it was from that point on that I started becoming a little more firm in my approach to these aspects of the philosophy and religion. I couldn't be against science so much, though I don't think I would ever say that science or technology is flawless, or even benevolent in many ways. But I couldn't deny it's validity, which was such a common stance in our monastery. It just made me feel uncomfortable to hear anti-science statements sometimes, often with little knowledge behind them.
The other thing I overheard during that weekend was a conversation about some devotees who had rebellious, or anti-authoritarian stances. It was suggested that some of these persons were suffering because of feelings of anger towards their fathers who had cheated on their mothers. I thought that was an interesting suggestion. Coming from a family in which my parents had an incredibly tight relationship, I couldn't entirely relate to it, but I thought it was an interesting social observation. I'm not willing to say it is accurate, I just think it's interesting, and the sense that I wonder what the thought process would look like to reach that analysis.
On the Sunday of the festival we had a special birthday party for our Guru. As part of this celebration some of the devotees present had the opportunity to read out homages that they had written. Because there were around a hundred or so Hare Krishnas there for the festival, there was a short list made of the persons who would be allowed to read out their homages. The first list was made by one of the organisers of the festival. She had made the list based on how long persons had been involved with the Krishnas for. However, our Guru wasn't so keen on that system. He said that the list also needed to take into consideration date of initiation, whether someone had received second initiation, and also whether the person was taking on extra responsibility, as that extra responsibility was an extra credit to getting these kinds of special privileges. He turned to me and smiled when he said that I would get to read out my homage as well, as a recognition of the responsibility I was taking on my shoulders. It was a nice exchange and gesture.
I have always felt comfortable with public speaking, almost scarily so. But there are some occasions where I just feel completely shy doing it. Last month I had to give an impromptu talk at an animal rights conference, and I've never felt so embarrassed when speaking in front of others in my whole life. This day was another time that I felt embarrassed. It was difficult to read out my homage. There were a lot of thoughts going through my mind while I did so. One such thought was that I realised that I wasn't certain if I actually did feel all the words that I had written. Saying them out loud made me doubt my statements more. I also realised that the main reason I liked reading these homages out in front of others was because I hoped others would recognise my literary skills.
After the celebration came the feasting time. This was another awkward situation. As I was assisting my Guru during this event, it was my job to look after his meal until he was satisfied. That meant that I couldn't sit and eat with my friends until he was done his meal. My two favourites things, eating and talking, and I had to suppress those desires until he had decided he no longer needed my services. It was a tough task, though in a comical way. I am comfortable laughing at myself about things like that, and there were more opportunities to laugh later on.
When he finally decided he didn't need me, he said I could go and eat with my friends, and then we would return back to his house after that. I filled up a big plate and sat down with some people I knew. And I started eating and talking. Actually, mostly talking. To much talking that I actually did very little eating, or at least not quick eating. By the time I had just about moved onto dessert I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my Guru staring down at me with a bit of a friendly frown on his face. He said "Are you eating, or talking?", to which I had to reply honestly and say "Talking mostly." He laughed at me, then said "If I knew you were going to take this long I would have just told you to bring it back to the house to eat!"
When we returned to the house he was staying at I apologised for getting side-tracked during my meal. I said "Sorry, but I have a real big mouth sometimes, and I just have to talk." He looked out the window and said "So, you're a big talker huh? Well, that's okay, but from now on just talk about Krishna."
I still like talking non-stop, given the opportunity, I guess this blog is an extension of that. But in some settings I will just be the quiet person, almost like I have two complete extremes of socialising. My mother is a big talker, my dad is a quiet one. I guess I have both qualities at certain times.
If I analyse my relationship with my Guru I have to accept that there was a bit of a paradox to it. There was the one side that I felt he cared about me, and treated me like I had a lot of potential. I did like talking with him about things when given the opportunity. But, if I am honest, and I know this blog is about honesty, I also struggled sometimes watching the way he related to other people. A lot of my friends and family had met him over the years, and although they never said anything at the time, they now admit freely that they felt a little uncomfortable around him, and during his classes at the yoga centre. At times it was like a relationship where you care for someone, but you also worry when introducing them to new people, because you know that they have a personality type that a lot of people won't gel with.
On the week that I left the Krishna community, I talked to a friend who regularly visited the yoga centre. He asked if one of the reasons I left was because of the harsh statements made during the class by my Guru the previous Sunday. I hadn't thought about it at the time, because I had many reasons for leaving. But not long after a friend within the community e-mailed me, asking for my reasons for leaving, and then also asked what my relationship was like with my Guru before I left. It started me thinking about this point. I can completely understand why people don't like him, and I think that was always at the back of my mind. At the same time, I appreciated the care and attention I received over the years. As some of the monks said to me, sometimes I did feel like I was treated like a favourite son, and I think that helped me to overlook things that others complained about.
I don't want to analyse it all too much here. I think it's a very complicated issue. I don't think most people can relate to the dynamics of the relationship, nor to the social structure in which it occurred. Which I think may be telling in itself. I will say that when I first left the community I thought that the biggest emotion I would have to face upon leaving the community was the feeling of guilt for breaking my relationship with my Guru. I was both surprised and disappointed to discover that that wasn't the case at all. I was surprised that it didn't really occur on my mind at all. I was disappointed to discover that there were many more emotions that were much more difficult to deal with that arose after leaving.