In all human interactions there seems to be these two things occurring simultaneously. You have so many aspects of our personalities and personal experiences determining how we react to the situations we are confronted with in our lives. These can be so confusing sometimes we may not actually understand ourselves why we act or choose as we do. Yet we still desire very much to be understood, and for our actions to be viewed in the context of our wider life. I want you to understand that my decisions were not results of simple one-off events, but come with a much more intricate background which adds colour and illustrations and animations to every decision I make. Then, you have the human tendency to want to abstract, to simplify. Which means no matter how full a picture one paints explaining why their life is moving in the ways it is moving, still we will never be able to look past the specific detail we decide to focus on. We will abstract according to blue-ness and only be able to see the blue in a painting.
Today, while getting my MRI scan done, which if you have ever experienced one is a very noisy event, my mind managed to focus on one half of the sound, which kinda sounds like a drum-n-bass beat, and completely ignore the more obnoxious sound, which actually did sound like an alarm clock hooked up to a PA system on full. And since it went on for like 1/2 hour all up I kinda had the chance to reflect on things, and this upcoming blog update. Abstracting helps us to cut out the uncomfortable things in life, the uncomfortable parts of human interactions, and allows us to pick and choose what we are going to focus on and target. It really is an amazing coping mechanism, and the stronger we hold to our chosen item of focus, the harder we will argue for its primary relevance in a situation. It also makes it much easier to point blame at others. 'This happened because you did this' and that's the final verdict. It takes a lot of courage to look at things from a wider perspective, primarily because of the fact that when we do look from a wider perspective things can get uncomfortable. We may have to admit our own faults, we may be confronted with issues in others lives which mirror problematic issues in our own, issues that we prefer not to focus on in our own lives, lest they force us to acknowledge and deal with them. And so we abstract, we haze over the details, and focus on whatever we can to avoid looking at the entire picture. We make up stories in our heads about others, or about ourselves. 'I'm like this, therefore of course I am going to act like this' or 'Well, that's the way he is, so it's no surprise he did that'.
I find it funny now, in some ways, when people ask me to summarise why I left the Krishnas in one sentence. Or even ten sentences. Or even really in one conversation. I even find it funny when people say they have read this blog and now understand why I left the Krishna community, and then give their version of understanding. And I find it funny how everyone has taken a different lens to this blog and gives a different explanation all the time. What I really hope is that this blog just helps to show that nothing is black and white, simple or straight forward. In writing this blog, of course, I have focused on certain aspects of situations, because to me those were the aspects that I felt like dealing with at the time of writing. Each entry I wrote needs to be taken in a wider context, beyond just the experiences discussed, but also to include the different emotions and experiences I was going through at the time of writing. Writing really is not a sufficient medium to fully explain what is a very personal experience of life and existence, and that needs to be remembered. There is always more going on than we are able to see, boiling under the surface. We will never get a full picture of anyone, completely. What this SHOULD do is inspire us to ALWAYS give people the benefit of the doubt. We should never write people off automatically, or judge them harshly, because we will have to admit that we will never truly understand what took place to make them act the way they have, or make the decisions they have made in their lives which we disagree with. It is a sad soul that makes firm and condemning judgments on others, assuming perfect vision, never really willing to make the vulnerable steps to understand what it is that led others to what they have become. That is the most lonely existence.
Now that it is a bit over 5 months since the day I left the monastery, I can't entirely remember what I did for that last week. I have a vague memory that the night before I left I went out for dinner with my brother and my good friend, I'm fairly certain that was that night. I think it would be fair to expect that I was excited the day before I left, kind of like the excitement the night before Christmas, but I don't remember entirely feeling that way. I do remember feeling a lot of excitement for the future in general, it felt like I had a wide open space full of opportunities and potential coming my way. I also remember feeling a bit of fear, the kind of fear that comes with any uncertain transition period that approaches. I was well aware that things weren't gonna be cut-and-dry in terms of leaving, and in terms of becoming accustomed to life outside of the monastery and the wider community.
It was December 5th, 2009 the day that I left. I got up late that morning, which wasn't all that uncommon at the time. My little brother was going to pick me up mid-morning, after I gave him a text letting him know that everyone was out of the house. I chanted a little bit with everyone else. We ate breakfast together and just had a normal morning. I remember part of the discussion during breakfast was about how if we left the Krishna community we would never be able to enjoy life again, because we would know the philosophy that everything is temporary and therefore suffering, we would have no choice but to remain devotees instead. Part of me was worried that they had picked up the clues that I was leaving, but no, it was just normal breakfast conversation. My departure was going to come as a big surprise for almost everyone.
I wasn't 100% certain how I was going to tell the other Krishnas yet. Part of me felt like talking to them in person was the best idea. But another part of me just wanted to make a clean break and leave without any hassles or conflict. I knew that if I explained my departure in person it would just turn into a discussion about how I should stay, and I was already determined to leave, it wasn't a question anymore. I also knew that I would have to elaborate on all my reasons for leaving, and that they would be questioned, individually. My reasons for leaving were complex and intertwined, this blog probably indicates that well I hope, so I wasn't interested on discussing that, over and over again on the day. I just wanted to leave and that is all.
During the time that I was supposed to be chanting by myself in the morning I sent a text to an old friend of mine who had left the Krishnas the previous year. I said "Today is the day that I leave Krishna consciousness". He wasn't certain if I was serious at first. I wanted his advice, on how to break the news to the other devotees that I was leaving. Whether in person is best or not. He advised against having the discussion in person. He gave an example from his experience, where he actually felt insulted and even threatened by one senior devotee when he was explaining that he was leaving. I wasn't interested in repeating the same experiences, and some of the people that I would have to discuss this with were the types that I personally didn't trust to let me leave without causing problems. So I decided to go with e-mails and the impersonal text message. It wasn't a decision I made lightly. It's akin to breaking up with a long term relationship with a text. But I just wanted the cleanest break possible, just to sneak out the backdoor and be gone, no questions asked.
I spent much of the morning writing out an e-mail to send to my Guru explaining my departure. I also forwarded that e-mail to the other managers of the monastery, so that they could get the same picture of my departure. The e-mail was fairly vague, just explaining that I had had enough of the relationship problems in the community, that I had lost faith in the practice and the philosophy, and that I had other things I wanted to do with my life. I let them know some arrangements I had made, as manager, to make sure that my leaving would not disrupt things massively. I said thanks for everything I had been given, that I did honestly feel bad for making this departure, but this is what I needed to do for my personal sanity in life. I let them all know that I had organised things well for my departure, I had an income, I had a home, I had a vague plan for the future, I had a lot of friends around me to support me. I wasn't making a rash decision to leave, and I wasn't putting my welfare at risk by running away without having things in order beforehand.
I packed my things up quickly. It wasn't hard. I had been a monk for years, I didn't HAVE anything much to pack. I had one bag of clothes, two boxes of other belongings and my sleeping bag and mat. That was pretty much everything. I took off the beads I had worn around my neck for the past 7 years, along with the sacred thread that I wore over my torso and placed them inside my beadbag which held my chanting beads. I placed them altogether on the desk of one of the monks. I was leaving behind an identity and all that it involved. So I waited for my brother to arrive. When he did we quickly packed my things into his car, I hit the send button on my e-mails out to people, and we left. I put together a few texts to send out to let others know I had left, primarily my friends in the monastery who I felt needed to hear from me directly. I had also sent an e-mail to another devotee, as I was actually supposed to give the presentation that Sunday at the yoga centre, but obviously I was going to need someone to replace me that day. I went through and made sure I had everything, I turned on the alarm, locked the doors behind me, and we left for the city.
I was surprised in some ways just how little of an emotional response was generated by my leaving that morning. Considering I was walking away from 7 years of my life is something that you would think would have been a bigger event for me. But it felt less dramatic then graduating from high school, it was almost a none event. It wasn't the leaving that produced any real emotions for me then, nor in the future, it was more the transition and the unknown possibilities that lay ahead which were going to be the triggers for more emotions as time went by. I didn't feel like I was walking away from friendships, I actually felt like I was taking on and deepening many more friendships and relationships. It really wasn't a sad or difficult day in that respect.
My brother drove me into town, we picked up my friend on K road, then made our way to unpack my stuff at my new house, which didn't take long at all. The weather that morning/afternoon was a bit drizzly, a bit grey and wet. My new house had two dogs in it when I moved in, and unfortunately, while moving my stuff into my room SOMEONE left the door open, and one of the dogs bolted out - GREAT first impression. It was a bit of a shame, but we spent the next 1/2 hour or so trying to find the dog and get her back into the house. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to put my full attention into the task, as the texts that I had sent out to various devotees had started to result in a flood of texts back, which I spent a while replying to, explaining things. Some said things like "Hey, don't worry, you should just come back, we can iron out whatever problems you're having", or "I'm standing in the street, just read your text and the tears are flowing down my face." I didn't receive any negative texts as such. One of the monks sent me a text saying "Hey, no worries big guy. But if you stop being my friend I'm gonna knock you off your bike next time at bike polo!" I made a general policy on that day, I would respond to those who made it clear they wanted to be friends, and approached me as a friend, but I would ignore those who wrote back trying to convince me to stay, or directing criticism towards me for leaving, making assumptions about why I left. And that is how I kept it.
In then end, my flatmate came home, and as soon as he showed up the dog returned immediately. So now it was time to remove the final marker of my being a Hare Krishna, I cut off the tuft of hair at the back of my head. It was like a ceremony of sorts, in a way. Everyone was involved. I had tied my bunch of hair up, and my friend took the hair clippers and shaved it right off. That final bodily reference to being a Krishna was gone. I then razored the rest of my head, clean shaven, and showered. It definitely felt different to be without my neck beads, my sacred thread, and the long bit of hair I had kept at the back of my head. Interestingly, where that little bit of hair had previously been now felt incredibly softer than the rest of my shaved head, for some reason. I was no longer a Hare Krishna. I had changed my world.
While I was shaving my head my Guru had called my cellphone. I wasn't answering my phone that day, but even still I missed that call while I was shaving. He left a message on the voice box, which I checked once I was finished with my shaving and showering. It said "Vidyapati, please don't break my heart in this way. I will be in Wellington in a weeks time. Please come to Otaki and stay with me there so we can discuss this." That was not an easy message to listen to. But my mind was made up, I'm not the type of person to go back on a decision like this, primarily because of the fact that I don't make such decisions lightly. I also was not going to go out of my way, travelling down to Wellington by myself, spending several days by myself in a closed Krishna community. I wasn't going to go through that effort, it wasn't the direction I wanted for my life any longer. I was closing doors.
I also received an e-mail back from one of the devotees I had e-mailed. He basically said that he knew why I had left, hinting that it was because of strong sexual desires, and that I should just admit it, come back, and prepare to marry some nice Krishna girl instead. That was probably the most insulting response I had after first leaving. It was highly presumptuous, and I think even a bit insulting to the Krishna women in general as well. Another devotee called my phone, though I didn't answer it. He left a message saying that he had heard rumours that I had left, and wanted to hear it from the horses mouth directly, and possibly meet up to discuss anything that would see me return. But I wasn't interested in a return.
I had a sort of celebration dinner that evening, at the vegan restaurant on Victoria Street, with a selection of friends and my brothers. I ate the tofu and eggplant hot-pot. It was heaps good. Yes, I actually remember what I ate, that's the way my mind works. Though I can't remember everyone who was there that night. My mother called during that meal, to hear how everything went. I had kept it so quiet that not even all my brothers had known that I was leaving, so mom made me call up the one brother who was out of town and let him hear the news that I had left. It was a weird thing to explain to people at first, a very weird thing indeed. I think it caught a lot of people by surprise.
As the days went by news started spreading amongst the Krishna community, and I started to receive texts and e-mails and facebook messages from devotees all over the place. It was kind of a surprise, especially considering the fact that most all of the messages were coming from women devotees, many of whom I barely knew due to my being a monk for so long. Mostly they were messages saying thanks for everything I had done over the years, saying I was going to be missed, and saying that I would always be welcomed back. One, from a closer friend of mine, wanted me to provide an explanation of why I left, and I did the best I could to explain it at the time. I had one text from a friend of mine saying that he and his wife were both surprised by the news, but still wanted to maintain friendships regardless, and invited me to visit them if I was ever in their area. And I did go and visit them this past January. They cooked some awesome veggie burgers and vegan ice cream when I visited! Unfortunately she was still recovering from the birth of their first child, but it was good to catch up with them regardless.
The day after my departure there was a bike ride that I had help organise, as part of a protest against climate change. I knew that one of the monks was going to be attending, the one that had made the comment that he would knock me off my bike if I stopped being his friend. I was a little nervous, it was going to be the first time I saw a devotee after leaving, and I was still getting used to it all. That day was really my first public appearance as Mikey again, without the beads, the hair, the Hare Krishna identity. It was a bit weird. Especially meeting those who were just finding out I left. It was odd. And as I rode up to the meeting point that day, I saw my monk friend there waiting amongst a group of our mutual friends. I rode up, did a quick skid to stop, and some how or other lost my balance, and completely fell over, my feet still stuck in the toe-clips of my bike. What an entrance! My hands and ego were both bruised a bit at that time, but it certainly broke the ice.
It took a little while getting used to a new life. I always knew it wasn't necessarily going to be a smooth ride, but life really seldom is. My life as a Hare Krishna hadn't really been a smooth ride either. The next few months were testing at times. I discovered that most of the things I had expected to be difficult to deal with in terms of walking away from one time of my life, and preparing for another were actually not all that difficult at all. And things that I hadn't expected to be difficult ended up being bigger obstacles than I had anticipated. I started to have nightmares from time to time, of confrontations with Hare Krishnas. Transitions are difficult, because they provide very little solid ground on which to stand, and the tendency is to grab on to whatever stability is available with all your strength and wait to see it through. There is the tendency to rush forward into the uncertainty, just in the hopes of gaining a new foundation, but that is always a dangerous option. It can result in a wide variety of unfavourable situations. In one sense, all you can really do is hold on through the turbulence, preparing to make the most of what comes next, and slowly start to piece some form of direction back into your life. Having good friends around you helps a lot with that. And maintaining a firm commitment to your personal values through it all is invaluable.
I don't entirely know what is left to say from this point on. I don't know whether to continue forward and discuss in more details what I went through trying to...recover, acclimatize, start anew, rebuild and regain things that I had lost and given up before, find myself again? Not certain what is the most correct term to put in there. Or whether to just write various anecdotes about my time as a Hare Krishna which illustrate themes instead. I guess maybe a combination of those two? Not certain, I guess we'll see what happens. My basic plan for the next few months anyway is to continue to use my free Mondays to write updates. So, next week there will hopefully be something coming to my mind to write about.
