Attraction, Affiliation and Disenchantment in a New Religious Movement

A Study of Individuals’ Experiences in a Siddha Yoga Practice

By

John Paul Healy

A thesis submitted in fulfilment of

the requirements for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

School of Social Sciences and International Studies

University of New South Wales, 2008 Declarations

ORIGINALITY STATEMENT ‘I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and to the best of my knowledge it contains no materials previously published or written by another person, or substantial proportions of material which have been accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma at UNSW or any other educational institution, except where due acknowledgement is made in the thesis. Any contribution made to the research by others, with whom I have worked at UNSW or elsewhere, is explicitly acknowledged in the thesis. I also declare that the intellectual content of this thesis is the product of my own work, except to the extent that assistance from others in the project's design and conception or in style, presentation and linguistic expression is acknowledged.’ Signed ……………………………………………...... Date ……………………………………………......

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AUTHENTICITY STATEMENT ‘I certify that the Library deposit digital copy is a direct equivalent of the final officially approved version of my thesis. No emendation of content has occurred and if there are any minor variations in formatting, they are the result of the conversion to digital format.’ Signed ……………………………………………...... Date ……………………………………………......

i Abstract

This thesis explores thirty-two individuals’ experiences of involvement in Siddha Yoga. Such groups have often been labelled as cults and accused of ‘brainwashing’ their followers. The conceptualisation of affiliation as brainwashing has been influential within the helping professions, including psychology, counselling and social work. However, this conceptualisation is not supported by empirical research on cults, or what have become known as New Religious Movements (NRMs). The research problem which this thesis addresses therefore is: ‘If a brainwashing model of affiliation does not give an adequate explanation for cult/NRM involvement how else might it be understood?’

A primary objective of this study was to inform the helping professions, in particular social work. A secondary objective was to add to knowledge about Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia, which no other study had addressed, and thereby to add to the growing understanding of NRMs in Australia. The study applied a qualitative research framework, informed by grounded theory, ethnography and phenomenology and used a purposive sampling technique. Materials were collected by semi-structured in-depth interviews, participant observations and field notes, and analysed with the assistance of NVivo data analysis computer software.

This study found that the conceptualisation of affiliation as brainwashing fails to account for the variety of individuals’ experiences of involvement in Siddha Yoga. Moreover, the findings highlight that involvement in regard to attraction, affiliation and disenchantment is not helpfully understood by adopting a ‘brainwashing’ model and could be better understood through the lens of the sociology of religion, including studies of the experiences of those in mainstream religions.

One implication of the findings for social work and other helping professions is that existing approaches to interpersonal helping could be used with individuals who seek assistance after leaving a NRM. For social work, this thesis also adds to the growing knowledge of the diverse religious orientations in the wider community. Such knowledge can enhance social work education, practice and theory in relation to social work’s diverse client population.

ii Dedication

This is dedicated to my 10 brothers and sisters and our parents who brought us out from Ireland to Australia.

iii Acknowledgements

This thesis would not have been possible without the cooperation of the participants who graciously allowed me into their lives to tell me their stories. To them I am deeply grateful and honoured to have spent time in their company.

Thank you also to Swami Nityananda of Shanti Mandir, and Swami Shankarananda of Shiva Yoga who kindly allowed access to their ashrams and centres. Also thank you to Siddha Shiva Yoga for allowing me to visit their centre in Ghent, Belgium.

There are many I would like to acknowledge from the Social Work program at the University of New South Wales for their encouragement and sustained support. Dr Mark Hughes, my primary supervisor, from the beginning of my PhD candidature to the end, dedicated much of his time to my study and also in supporting my professional development. It was Mark who kept me on track and who helped me to focus on goals and deadlines. With Mark’s encouragement and tough love the thesis evolved naturally. I would also like to acknowledge my various co-supervisors I had during my candidature. Dr Elizabeth Fernandez, who helped me begin my study and made sure that I got out in the field early in the project. Also thank you to Professor Carmen Moran who for a time advised me on aspects of my study and also encouraged my early attempts at the findings chapters. And many thanks to my final co-supervisor Dr Lesley Hughes who brought fresh eyes and good humour near the end of my candidature, her attention to detail and interest in the topic was much appreciated. I also have to thank Karen Heycox for commenting on my very first journal article. Thank you to Professor Richard Hugman for ‘Hugman’s Handy Hints on developing a research proposal’. Although he gave these out when I was doing honours many years ago, they were still helpful in completing this present study. Many thanks to A/Professor Eileen Baldry who always made me feel like I was part of the school. Thank you also to A/Professor Helen Meekosha for her postgraduate support. A special thank you to Chris Mangos for her encouraging words which were always helpful. Thank you to Dr Shannon McDermott and Dr Leanne Dowse with whom I shared some of their joys and struggles as they successfully completed their own PhDs. Lastly, thanks to Dr Michael Wearing who warned me off doing a PhD, but then when I failed to take his advice still supported and encouraged me at every stage. Michael has been a great friend and an interesting role model.

In the larger School of Social Sciences and International Studies I would like to acknowledge Dr Alan Morris in regard to his collegial generosity and for his involvement in the postgraduate student seminars.

Most importantly I owe a special thank you to my sister-in-law at the school, Carol Healy who was my inspiration for going to University and in taking it as far as I have. Carol and her partner, my brother Martin, have both supported me all the way and if not for their encouragement I would not have entered University, nor discovered the joys of learning.

Also many thanks to Eileen Barker and her staff for providing me office space and resources at Inform, the London School of Economics, over a two week period for research purposes.

iv

Thank you to my friend Des Devlin who kindly read a draft of the thesis and offered many suggestions on style and structure. And thanks to Kim Wilson, for our shared love and experience of India and the nights at Bentley’s Hotel Mumbai.

Many of my friends have given encouragement and support for my study, thank you to Kim Mclean and his partner Elanora, Bob and Mitzy, Deb Shaw, Camilla Hodgkins, Libby Wertheim and Annie Wertheim. Also my Sunday cycling buddies, Dr Michaelis Michael, Karen Bland, Dr Bea, Dr Amitavo, Matt and Steph. Thank you to Susie Eisenhuth for her always generous words of encouragement. Thank you also to Francis Duffy with whom I started my social work degree and for the many late night discussions on the topics of both our postgraduate studies.

Finally thanks to Ram Dass and Piper, our fur kids, and Robyn who loves them….

v Table of Contents Declarations ...... i Abstract...... ii Dedication ...... iii Acknowledgements ...... iv Glossary...... ix Chapter 1...... 1 Introduction ...... 1 The Research Problem...... 5 Personal Motivations ...... 6 Definition of Siddha Yoga Practice...... 7 Definition of New Religious Movements...... 8 Definition of Religion...... 9 Outline of the Thesis...... 12 Conclusion ...... 16 Chapter 2...... 17 The Study of Religious Activity ...... 17 Aspects of the Study of Religion ...... 17 Conversion ...... 22 The Study of New Religious Movements ...... 27 New Religious Movements in Australia ...... 30 Conclusion ...... 34 Chapter 3...... 36 Brainwashing and the Helping Professions...... 36 Affiliation and Brainwashing...... 36 Social Work and Spirituality...... 47 Conclusion ...... 51 Chapter 4...... 54 Siddha Yoga Practice...... 54 Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga...... 54 Schisms of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga ...... 59 Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga...... 60 Visiting the Source: Authenticity and Lineage...... 62 Studies on Siddha Yoga Practice...... 64 Conclusion ...... 66 Chapter 5...... 69 The Research Process ...... 69 Significance...... 70 The Study’s Aims and Objectives ...... 71 Research Questions...... 71 Qualitative Methods...... 72 A Grounded Approach ...... 74 Ethnographic Approach ...... 75 Phenomenological Approach...... 77 The Research Methods ...... 79 The Scope of the Study...... 79 Gaining Access ...... 79 Who was Included in the Study ...... 81 The Participants...... 85

vi Materials Collected...... 86 The Interviews...... 87 Participant Observations and Field Notes ...... 92 The Groups’ Own Material ...... 93 Personal Challenges of Participant Observations ...... 94 Getting ‘Sucked in’...... 94 Entering the Field ...... 95 Qualitative Analysis of Collected Materials...... 98 Computer Assisted Qualitative Analysis...... 100 Rigour in Qualitative Research...... 101 Ethical Consideration of the Study ...... 102 Ethical Challenges...... 103 Offering Something in Return ...... 106 Conclusion ...... 106 Chapter 6...... 108 Discovering a Siddha Yoga Practice...... 108 Seeking or Not Seeking ...... 108 Seekers ...... 109 Accidental-Seekers...... 111 Hearing About Siddha Yoga ...... 113 The Initial Attraction of Siddha Yoga...... 116 Life Crises and Turning Points...... 119 Participants’ Prior Spiritual Experiences ...... 120 Signs...... 124 Discussion...... 125 Conclusion ...... 131 Chapter 7...... 133 Experiencing Siddha Yoga Life ...... 133 Section 1: The Developing Movement ...... 133 Going to India in the Early 1970s...... 134 Bringing India Home...... 136 Household Centres...... 137 Discussion...... 140 Section 2: The Established Movement...... 143 Seva/Volunteer Work at the Ashram...... 144 Ashram Life ...... 145 Moving into the Ashram: ‘Ashramites’...... 147 Spiritual Names: What’s in a Name? ...... 150 Non-involved Parents...... 151 Discussion...... 153 Conclusion ...... 156 Chapter 8...... 157 Spiritual Life ‘Sadhana’ ...... 157 Meeting the Guru...... 158 Understanding the Guru...... 163 Discussion...... 166 Shaktipat ...... 170 Spiritual Experiences ...... 175 Discussion...... 178 Conclusion ...... 183 Chapter 9...... 185 Movement away from Siddha Yoga (SYDA) ...... 185 Significant Events...... 186 Muktananda’s Death and the Adoption of Nityananda and Gurumayi as Co-leaders...... 186 Nityananda’s Alleged Forced Removal and Subsequent Harassment by Siddha Yoga Devotees ..188

vii Muktananda’s Alleged Sexual Relations with Female Devotees...... 190 Changing Organisation ...... 195 Competing Interests...... 195 The Internet...... 196 Discussion...... 199 Conclusion ...... 202 Chapter 10...... 203 Life After Siddha Yoga...... 203 Refocusing Their Lives...... 204 New Spiritual Affiliation After Siddha Yoga...... 207 What They Have Kept ...... 210 Sustaining Friendship Networks...... 214 Discussion...... 215 Conclusion ...... 219 Chapter 11...... 220 The Varieties of Religious Experience...... 220 Revisiting the Research Process ...... 221 Summary of Findings...... 222 Attraction...... 222 Affiliation...... 225 Disenchantment ...... 229 Some Implications of the Study...... 232 Suggested Directions for Research ...... 235 My Reflections on the Study...... 236 Conclusion...... 237 Bibliography...... 243 Appendices ...... 267 Appendix 1 ...... 267 Appendix 2 ...... 268 Appendix 3 ...... 269 Appendix 4 ...... 270 Appendix 5 ...... 273 Appendix 6 ...... 274 Appendix 7 ...... 275 Appendix 8 ...... 277 Appendix 9 ...... 278

viii Glossary

The terms and definitions related to Siddha Yoga Practice presented in this glossary reflect the participants’ usage and knowledge of these terms rather than the various and complex interpretations that are possible. The interpretations are therefore informed by their experience in Siddha Yoga Dham Associates (SYDA) and the usage of the terms in that organisation.

Amrit: A café style area in Siddha Yoga ashrams and centres where snacks and drinks are prepared and served.

Amma: A respectful and affectionate term when addressing a female guru meaning mother.

Ashram: A traditional Hindu residential hermitage for spiritual aspirants, often headed by a resident religious leader of a spiritual order or intentional spiritual community.

Baba: A respectful and affectionate term when addressing a guru meaning father.

Darshan: Being in the presence of the guru or a sacred image or place.

Disciple: The follower of a guru, usually called a devotee, or in the case of Siddha Yoga a ‘Siddha Yogi’.

Guru: Guru in this study relates to a Hindu-based Indian tradition of spiritual teacher who has apparently achieved a god-like enlightened state.

Guru-disciple tradition: A longstanding tradition in India where a spiritual aspirant enters into a relationship with usually one guru. The guru then guides the aspirant to spiritual enlightenment or self realisation.

Guru Gita: The Guru Gita provides a template for the relationship between the guru and the devotee and is chanted in Siddha Yoga ashrams every morning.

Guruji: A respectful term when addressing a guru.

Intensive: The intensive is usually a two-day event of chanting, meditation and listening to presentations, where devotee experience Shaktipat initiation.

Kashmir Shaivism: Kashmir Shaivism is a form of non-dualistic Hindu philosophy originating in the late 18th century; although as an oral tradition is much older (Chatterji, 2004; Singh, 1990). Kashmir Shaivism teaches the recognition of the true self or supreme self as Shiva or god (Shankarananda, 2003, p.53). With Vedanta, Kashmir Shaivism provides the theological context for Siddha Yoga Practice.

Kriya: a non-voluntary physical, mental, or emotional movement participants experience any time after Shaktipat. Kriyas are considered to purify the seeker’s body.

ix

Kundalini: The Kundalini is considered the dormant shakti or energy in each individual which once awoken by the grace of god or a enlightened guru takes the individual on a journey to enlightenment. The image of the awakening of the Kundalini is that of a coiled snake which, when awoken, makes its journey from the base of the spine to the top of the head.

Mahasamadhi: When an advanced or self-realised yogi or saint dies, they are considered to have left their physical body and entered the supreme consciousness of god or their true self. After the individual’s Mahasamadhi, their day of departure from the world is celebrated annually, and a shrine is often established at the place of death.

Old Timers: ‘Old timers’ or ‘good timers’ are Siddha Yoga terms that refer to those devotees who were around before Muktananda’s death. It usually refers to those who met him in the 1970s before the movement was fully developed.

Sadguru: In the tradition of Kashmir Shaivism a Sadguru is a true guru.

Sadhana: Sadhana refers to the spiritual aspirant’s journey towards a spiritual goal.

Sannyasin: See Swami.

Satsang: Satsang refers to the congregating of the individuals of the group to chant and meditate together and share their experience of spiritual life. Satsang in Siddha Yoga Practice is usually held in the evening and sometimes referred to as a program or evening program. The satsang is less formal than a morning, noon or afternoon chant, and usually a talk is given by the guru or another individual from the group.

The self: A term used to refer to the true or inner self. Like a soul, but the soul of god in the individual.

Self-realisation: Self-realisation relates to the devotee becoming fully immersed in god or their true self. In the Kashmir Shaivite tradition, because the devotee’s true self is already god, it is a realisation of the true self, therefore self-realisation.

Seva: Seva is understood in this study as selfless service (unpaid volunteer work) to the guru. Seva in a guru-disciple tradition is a form of spiritual practice.

Sevite: One who performs seva.

Shakti: Shakti is the female consort of the Hindu god Shiva. For the purpose of this study, Shakti is a palpable energy the participants may feel in the company of the guru, the ashram, during meditation or other spiritually charged environments. Shakti can also be experienced by devotees as the grace that flows from god or the guru. The initiation of this grace is called Shaktipat.

Shaktipat: Shaktipat is the transmission of Shakti from the guru or god to the devotee. Shaktipat tends to happen at the outset of the guru-disciple relationship and is the beginning of the devotee’s Sadhana or spiritual journey.

x Shiva: One of the Hindu trinity of gods, and highest reality in the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism.

Siddha: A spiritually enlightenment individual considered to be a perfected being or yogi.

Siddha Guru: A spiritually enlightened guru in the Siddha Yoga lineage considered to be a perfected being or yogi.

Siddha Master: A spiritually enlightenment individual or perfect master in the tradition of Siddha Yoga.

Siddha Yoga: Siddha Yoga is the term that is commonly used by the participants in this study when they are referring to the organisation Siddha Yoga Dham Associates (SYDA). ‘Siddha Yoga’ is also a trademark of SYDA Foundation®.

Siddha Yoga Practice: A term I develop in this study to include the various organisations that consider the lineage connected to that of Swami Muktananda.

Siddha Yogi: An individual involved in Siddha Yoga.

Spiritual Practices: In Siddha Yoga spiritual practices include chanting, meditation, mantra repetition, Hatha yoga (physical yoga) and seva (selfless service to the guru).

SYDA (Siddha Yoga Dham Associates): SYDA refers to the organisation originally lead by Swami Muktananda and is now headed by Gurumayi. As stated above, participants in this study use the term ‘Siddha Yoga’ to refer to this organisation.

Swami: A person who has taken vows in a Hindu tradition of renouncing worldly life to become a monk, or sannyasin.

Swamiji: A respectful term when addressing a sannyasin, or monk.

Yoga: A group of mental and physical disciplines and spiritual practices originating in India.

Yogi: An individual that practices yoga.

xi Chapter 1

Introduction

There are no religions which are false. All are true in their own fashion; all answer, though in different ways, to the given conditions of human existence (Durkheim, [1915] 1965, p.15).

This thesis explores individuals’ experiences of involvement in the Indian guru-disciple tradition of Siddha Yoga Practice introduced into the west in 1970 by the late Swami Muktananda. Siddha Yoga Dham Associates (SYDA), commonly known as Siddha Yoga, was the group that eventually formed around Swami Muktananda who today is considered a founding guru in the lineage of various organisations continuing in the tradition of Siddha Yoga Practice. I was involved in Siddha Yoga for a time and my own experience and understanding of the movement has been a motivation behind this study, influencing the methodology and general approach to the topic. Although there are personal motivations which are highlighted in a following section, my training in social work has also been influential in my approach to this study. Social work’s reluctance to label, stereotype or pathologise behaviours and its tendencies towards a holistic understanding of individuals, groups and systems has also influenced my attempt at a broader position in relation to involvement in New Religious Movements (NRMs).

Groups such as Muktananda’s have often been labelled cults. The popular understanding of cultic involvement has been influenced by media representations fuelled by dramatic incidents involving non-traditional religious groups and allegations of brainwashing (Beckford, 1999; McCloud, 2007; Richardson & van Driel, 1997). The Jonestown mass-murder-suicide in 1978, the Branch Davidian siege in 1993, the sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway by Aum Shinrikyo in 1995, the Heavens Gate suicide in 1997, and the deaths of the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God in 2000, highlighted the need for an explanation for such irrational behaviour (Bromley & Melton, 2002; Lewis, 2005). The conceptualisation of affiliation as brainwashing has been an influential theory of involvement in non-traditional religious groups/New Religious Movements, which attempts to explain why otherwise normal individuals

1 would change their lifestyle and beliefs in a relatively short period of time after coming into contact with one of these groups.

However, the problem with the notion of brainwashing in reference to cults or New Religious Movements evident from previous empirical studies is that it does not appear to fully account for the variety of individuals’ experience of involvement (Barker, 1984, 1997; Boeri, 2002; Hill, 2001). Although the notion of brainwashing is not well supported by scholars of religion or the legal fraternity (Anthony & Robbins, 2004; Lewis, 2005; Palmer, 2008) it continues to be influential amongst some cult awareness groups and helping professionals who assist families and ex-members of these groups (Goldberg, 1997; ICSA, 2008; Jenkinson, 2007; Lalich & Tobias, 2006).

This thesis, therefore, explores affiliation to a cult/NRM in order to gain a broader understanding of involvement than that provided by the notion of brainwashing in an attempt to better inform helping professionals. Because this thesis is an exploration of involvement it is focused on individuals’ experiences of discovery, involvement, and movement away from a group. The participants in this study have experienced affiliation in a variety of ways. Their experiences help to broaden the knowledge of involvement in a cult/NRM and provide a window into their experience of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia and the relatively recent possibility in the west for individuals to engage in a guru-disciple tradition.

Perhaps not until the Indian gurus’ venturing into the West during the 1960s and 70s and encountering the counterculture of that time did so many Western individuals have the opportunity to enter into a teacher- or guru-disciple tradition. Most prominent amongst the gurus of the counterculture were Swami Prabhupada and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (McDermott, 1975; Ketola, 2002; Stephens, 1998). Both established themselves and their movements in America after the ban on Asian immigration was lifted in 1965 (Finke & Iannaccone, 1993, p.37). Becoming a follower of a living, wise or great being has a long history. Some have had the opportunity to follow Socrates, others Buddha, Jesus or Muhammad. These figures loom large in the Western imagination as great teachers, prophets and even gods, and, for many, are the epitome of a spiritual teacher. The Indian gurus appeared to present a new embodiment of this classic tradition for Westerners, with their claims of god realization and the same

2 possibility for their followers; they presented an opportunity to follow what many devotees considered a living god.

The counterculture of the 1960s and 70s sought all manner of new and experimental approaches to life including new living arrangements, food, relationships, clothing, music, drugs and also alternative religious or spiritual beliefs (McDermott, 1975; Stephens, 1998). The gurus of India presented an alternative to the religious or spiritual norms of Western society. What seemed to be offered by these gurus was a spirituality based in mystical experience rather than in dogma. An association with mystical experience for the counterculture had already begun in various manifestations. Timothy Leary ([1964] 1995) and Stephen Gaskin (1970) were each highlighting the use of LSD and other drugs to help people turn on to an alternative way of being. There was certainly some change in the air amongst certain parts of the population during the 1960s and 70s, part of which included the Indian guru and a chance to ‘turn on’ and experience what he or she had to offer. McDermott (1975, p. 218) highlights that the Indian gurus offered an alternative high to drugs that was claimed to be safer and longer lasting. The Beatles’ association with both Swami Prabhupada and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi may have also given the gurus some credibility for the young people of that time (Stephens, 1998). Life magazine proclaimed 1967 the ‘Year of the Guru’ (Stephens, 1998, p.49).

Although there appears to be a relationship between the increasing popularity of the Indian guru-disciple tradition with the counterculture movement of the 1960s and 70s, the seeds of this tradition were already planted within Western societies some years earlier by what could be considered pioneers, such as Swami Vivekananda, Krishnamurti and Yogananda (McDermott, 1975; Roe, 1986). In September 1893 Vivekananda was invited to speak at the Chicago Parliament of Religions as a representative of Hinduism (De Michelis, 2004; McDermott, 1975). De Michelis (2004, p.92) regards Vivekananda as the first of the India gurus to succeed in bridging the Eastern and Western esoteric environments. Vivekananda adapted Hinduism to Western sensibilities. He noted that Westerners, like good utilitarians, wanted techniques and practices but shunned many of the traditional Indian aspects such as esoteric scripture, caste, or gender roles (De Michelis, 2004, pp.119-120). Many intellectuals of that time were impressed by Vivekananda including William James, an influential psychologist

3 and theorist of religious experience who moved in the same circles (De Michelis, 2004; McDermott, 1975).

During the 1920s Yogananda appeared to be continuing Vivekananda’s adaptation of Hindu practices to the West by creating the ‘Self Realization Fellowship’ which integrated some Christian faith into its Indian philosophy (Yogananda, 2000); a fellowship that is still in place today. Vivekananda’s and Yogananda’s success in the West may have been an inspiration to those Indian gurus who eventually followed in the 1960s and 70s, many of whom established strong followings and an organisational base in the United States. Swami Muktananda was one of the many gurus who entered the West in this period. In 1976, a Time magazine article acknowledged Muktananda as ‘America’s newest fashionable Guru’ (Time, 2008, p1). For the present study, Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice is the main site of exploration of an NRM following a guru-disciple tradition.

Siddha Yoga Practice and the devotees of its practices have constituted the site of research for this study. Gaining an understanding of the individuals’ involvement with this movement, especially from those who began their involvement in the early 1970s, also provides an opportunity to explore the early movement in Australia and its development from a grassroots following. Siddha Yoga is a comparatively young movement in the West, only becoming established in the early 1970s. Like other Eastern based guru-disciple traditions to enter the West – among others, the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON/the Hare Krishnas), Transcendental Meditation (TM) and Rajneesh (now known as Osho) - Siddha Yoga grew from very humble beginnings to a world-wide movement spawning its own schisms and its fair share of controversy. Although devotees of Siddha Yoga Practice enabled the present exploration of New Religious Movement involvement, another similar group such as ISKCON, TM or Osho could equally have been considered. All these groups present comparable Indian based guru-disciple traditions that have attracted many young followers in the West as well as causing some level of controversy in their adopted environments.

The study of NRMs is not restricted to Indian-based movements as there are various traditions including Christian, pagan or psychology from which NRMs have originated

4 (Barker, 1997; Melton 1999). The choice of Siddha Yoga Practice and access to this particular community of believers was guided primarily by my own experience with the movement which I discuss later in this chapter and again in Chapter 5, which covers the methodology of the present study. Although guru-disciple traditions are only one variety of what may constitute a cult/NRM it is possibly their practices which single them out. In these types of movements the followers’ adherence to the discipline of a sole charismatic figure signals for some that the followers are under undue control or coercion. Also, in considering the effect of the NRM and its guru on the follower, the tendency of these groups towards communal living, vegetarianism, celibacy, meditation and chanting often present to the outside observer (family members or friends) an individual who appears for some unknown reason to have radically changed (Goldberg, 1997; Lalich, 2004; Lalich & Tobias, 2006).

One response by concerned groups, parents and some academics and helping professionals to involvement in an Indian-based guru-disciple tradition and other NRMs is that the followers must be brainwashed (Bruce, 2002; Verdier, 1977). Although this perspective has not been supported by sociological studies of NRMs it has sustained credibility amongst those who are broadly called the anti-cult movement or cult- awareness groups as well as those who work with ex-members from the helping professions, including psychologists, counsellors and social workers.

The Research Problem Because of the sustained reliance on a coercive model of affiliation to NRMs, the present study has attempted to explore involvement afresh by addressing the following research problem:

If a brainwashing model of affiliation does not give an adequate explanation for cult/NRM involvement, how else might it be understood? What is the experience of those who spend significant parts of their lives involved in these types of movements? How do people become attracted and involved, and what is their experience of leaving and life after the movement? How do movements such as these develop? Can something be learned from individuals’ participation in cults/NRMs that might be helpful for gaining an understanding of both those who thrive, as well as those who appear to be harmed by their involvement? And can this knowledge be beneficial to members of the

5 helping professions who encounter members or ex-members in a therapeutic helping relationship or other contexts?

In recognising that the research problem is multifaceted, the present study has adopted a qualitative framework which has included ethnographic, grounded theory and phenomenological approaches. The research approach is mainly an attempt to gain an understanding of the lived experience of the participants and their own understanding of their experience. The specific methods and research questions that guided this study are outlined in Chapter 5.

To help situate my own place within this study and my own motivation for the topic, the following section briefly explores my own experience of Siddha Yoga (SYDA).

Personal Motivations My experience of Siddha Yoga began in 1981. Rajneesh followers (or the Orange People, in reference to their orange-coloured clothing) opened a centre in my area, and each day as I passed I wondered what they were doing in there. The Hare Krishnas were also quite visible at this time and some friends and I often ate at their free food outlet. As well as gaining an appetite for the unusual food and sweets of the Hare Krishnas we also began to develop a spiritual appetite. We visited many different movements at this time and eventually came across Siddha Yoga. Siddha Yoga was in some way more accessible than the Rajneesh or the Hare Krishnas, considering it did not expect you to dress in a particular way or colour. However, there was one condition that struck me on my first encounter with Siddha Yoga, a sign declaring, “Leave your ego with your shoes”. I happily left my shoes at the door. For me, at age 17, this almost accidental search began a five-year affiliation with Siddha Yoga. I worked and lived with the group, helping to build the ashram in Sydney, and on two occasions I lived and worked at the ashram of Nityananda and Gurumayi in Ganeshpuri, India.

I eventually drifted from Siddha Yoga as other competing interests took over, a theme which is common to many with past affiliation to New Religious Movements (Barker, 1999). After my involvement I never looked back or substantially questioned my own involvement until many years later when I was living in Ireland, a country that at that time did not have a Siddha Yoga centre (which was unusual considering there were

6 centres or ashrams in many major Western cities). Siddha Yoga, like ISKON and Rajneesh/Osho, has a world-wide following and a belief system based in esoteric Indian philosophy and practice. It was not until I bought my first computer in 1997 and connected to the Internet that I began to question or attempt to analyse my own involvement. While looking up the group on the Internet, I came across a site with stories from former devotees of Siddha Yoga. Like a timid child I read the stories and, at first, felt I was doing something wrong. I read on and although it was uncomfortable it was also enlivening. The stories seemed heartfelt and honest, and there were many stories of lost faith, disappointments, hurt. There were also stories of rebuilding and taking from the experience what was considered good and dismissing the rest. The stories reminded me of my own experience, the good and the bad. I began to question what had I done with my experience, and how my past experience might be absent from or present in my life today. This made me consider the experience of others involved, although it was not until I had the opportunity to enter a PhD programme that I seriously began to explore individuals’ experiences of involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice, now presented in this thesis. My own experience of the movement obviously helped to shape my approach to this topic, as will be discussed in Chapter 5.

The following sections discuss some definitions that are important to this study of Siddha Yoga Practice. First, I present my definition of ‘Siddha Yoga Practice’ which is used in this study as an attempt to include the growing number of groups who acknowledge their lineage in Swami Muktananda. I then discuss definitions of New Religious Movements and religion. After the discussion of definitions is presented there is an outline of the thesis chapters and how they have attempted to address the research problem followed by the chapter’s conclusion.

Definition of Siddha Yoga Practice Although Siddha Yoga is a yogic practice, it is not referred to as ‘Siddha Yoga Practice’ by the individuals or the different groups discussed in this study. I have developed this term ‘Siddha Yoga Practice’ to conceptually include the growing organisations that today consider their practice of Siddha Yoga connected to the lineage of Swami Muktananda. Gurus from the lineage include: Gurumayi, Nityananda, Shankarananda, Chetananda, Master Charles, Mark Griffin and Ganapati, among others. Thus, for this study, ‘Siddha Yoga Practice’ has been a useful way to locate the branches of this

7 tradition and individual involvement under a common term. Whereas the term ‘Siddha Yoga Practice’ is a means to include all those groups from Swami Muktananda’s lineage, the term ‘Siddha Yoga’ specifically refers to Swami Muktananda’s original group in which all the participants of this study were initially involved, and which is now headed by Gurumayi. A full exploration of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice is presented in Chapter 4.

Definition of New Religious Movements Melton (1999) offers a broad definition of the group of movements that has come to be known as New Religions or New Religious Movements (NRMs), often termed cults. He asserts, ‘New religions, groups or movements are primarily religious groups/movements that operate apart from the dominant culture (in our case, the Christian West) in which they are located and, in addition, seek adherents from their new host culture’ (Melton, 1999, p.5). An NRM, therefore, may originate from another country or develop internally; the key is that they are, at least initially, set apart from the dominant culture.

According to Barker (1997) what may constitute an NRM can vary in ideology and approach, and includes groups that are religious, political, scientific, alien oriented, as well as groups that emphasise personal growth, such as psychotherapeutic and human potential movements. Examples of human potential movements considered NRMs, at least in their beginnings, are Scientology and Kenja. Hume (2000, p.27) asserts that ‘the diversity of new religious movements defies any easy generalisations concerning them’. The term NRM, therefore, covers a variety of unconnected groups, many of which may not necessarily appear religious and are often labelled as ‘cults’.

Sociologically, the term cult refers to forms of individualistic, spiritual and mystical religions in which individuals are joined collectively in a mystical fellowship (Campbell, 1978). In these forms of religious activity, mysticism and individualism (other than organisation or hierarchy) have been important commonalities for theorists in forming a concept of what constitutes a cult (Bruce, 2002; Campbell, 1978, 1977; Troeltsch, [1931] 1992). Although the sociological usage is important in informing this study, the term cult has not been employed in this way when referring to NRMs. The

8 term cult as used in this thesis is consistent with the popular usage of the term as defined below.

The popular usage of the term cult is a media construction, a derogatory label for alternative or deviant minority religious groups which are often accused of being authoritarian towards or manipulative of their followers (Barker, 1997; Cowan, 2002; Olson, 2006; Richardson, 1993; Richardson & van Driel, 1997). Richardson (1993, p.352) acknowledges that even scholars tend to employ its popular usage to delineate the type of groups they are studying even though they might not agree with the popular understanding of the term and prefer the term NRM. In the present study I have tended to use both cult and NRM and at times joined these terms to highlight that, although I prefer the term NRM, I acknowledge the usage and popularity of the term cult and the meaning and history that it carries.

The use of the combined term cult/NRM in this study highlights the crossover between disputed meanings that these terms have today. Whether these movements have been called cults or NRMs, joining the concepts encapsulates historically the type of movements that are being discussed. I have also used the terms group, organisation or movement to relate to Siddha Yoga or other cults/NRMs as an alternative to repeatedly using the name of the group, organisation or movement.

To further contextualise the definition of NRMs the following section discusses the definition of religion.

Definition of Religion Considering NRMs are defined by some scholars to be religions, this section discusses some definitions of religion in a sociological and legal context. Of particular importance to this thesis are Durkheim’s definition and an Australian legal definition. Durkheim ([1915] 1965, p.62) asserted that ‘a religion is a unified system of beliefs and practices relative to sacred things, that is to say, things set apart and forbidden - beliefs and practices which unite into one single moral community called a Church, all those who adhere to them’.

9 For Durkheim, a religion is fundamentally a collective activity, distinct from personal forms of worship or magic which do not appear to bind individuals to communities (Durkheim, [1915] 1965, pp.60-63). By contrast, Weber ([1922]1965, p.1), in his introduction to his book Sociology of Religion, did not consider it possible to define religion at all: the task in relation to religious activity was to ‘study the conditions and effects of a particular type of social behaviour’. This behaviour could appear to relate to what Durkheim regarded as the sacred, although Weber (1965, p.1) held that religious activity ‘should not be set apart from the range of everyday purposive conduct …’ Despite their differences, both Durkheim and Weber point out the social and functional aspects of religious behaviour which, unlike recent definitions of religion, such as that of Bruce (2002), do not overly emphasise the assumption of the existence of supernatural entities. This is because their exploration of religious activity is grounded in the social world and its social and cultural contexts.

Even though definitions of religion have included the belief in spiritual beings and gods, some have argued that this would be too restrictive and exclude some movements typically considered to be religious. Buddhism, for example, is considered to have no concept of a god (Bruce, 2002; Durkheim, 1965; Southwald, 1978). However, Stark (2001, p.12) argues that only intellectuals and monks could truly conceive of a godless Buddhism, because popular practice tends to include worship of many gods and deities. Guthrie (1996, p.412) acknowledges that, despite attempts by scholars of religion to substantially define religion, no convincing general theory exists. For the study of NRMs, this dilemma makes the definition of what are regarded as new religions even more challenging, though possibly more inclusive of a range of diverse groups. The definition of religion proposed by Durkheim is helpful to the present thesis in that it could include many types of religiously-oriented communities. This inclusiveness of Durkheim’s definition is important considering the varieties of beliefs and practices amongst NRMs and has been influential in the Australian legal and human rights contexts (HREOC, 1998, p.8).

For some NRMs, acknowledged in a legal context as a religion by the state is an important concern. This was demonstrated by the Church of Scientology in Australia which won a High Court decision on a payroll tax exemption (Human Rights & Equal Opportunity Commission (HREOC), 1998; Hume, 1995; Richardson, 2001). What is

10 interesting about the High Court ruling for the present discussion of definitions is that the justices in the Scientology case found it difficult to define a religion, and although they attempted to apply a test could not gain a majority of support amongst the sitting judges (Church of the New Faith v Commissioner for Pay-Roll Tax, 1983; HREOC, 1998). Some of the proposed criteria for what might constitute a definition of religion in this case included a belief in a supernatural being; however, considering this might exclude forms of Buddhism or Jainism this was not agreed upon. ‘Justice Murphy held, in part, that any organisation which claims to be a religious organisation and which offers a way to find meaning and purpose in life is a religious organisation’ (HREOC, 1998, p.9). This is certainly a broad and inclusive definition and has been influential in the Australian context.

The 1983 High Court ruling in favour of Scientology’s claim to be a religious organisation established a legal definition of religion in Australia for further claims of tax exemption by minority religious groups. During this study, one of the schisms of Siddha Yoga, Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga (which will be discussed in Chapter 4), was seen to have gained a legal religious status which the leadership, in a public address at which I was present, acknowledged would aid the growth of their community. Subsequently, Shiva Yoga in Melbourne expanded to a neighbouring property. Thus, the definition of religion is important for sociologists and also those groups who wish to be recognised by their community and reap the benefits of that recognition.

In reference to Durkhiem’s (1965, p.62) definition of religion as that of ‘a unified system of beliefs and practices relative to sacred things ... forbidden - beliefs and practices which unite into one single moral community’, Siddha Yoga Practice could constitute a religion. Siddha Yoga Practice includes meditation techniques and devotional practices such as chanting, contemplation, adoration and service towards a guru, god or the ‘Inner Self’, in community with others. Siddha Yoga Practice also has those things which it considers forbidden, such as sexual activity and the eating of meat in their residential ashrams. In relation to Justice Murphy’s (HREOC, 1998, p.9) position, ‘that any organisation which claims to be a religious organisation and which offers a way to find meaning and purpose in life is a religious organisation’, Siddha Yoga Practice could certainly satisfy this, as will be shown in this study.

11

One of the main components in religion, according to Durkheim, is community or, as in his definition, Church. Here, religion is a communal activity. Siddha Yoga Practice, as will be shown in the present study, includes individuals’ search for meaning through a spiritual/religious community. However, that these individuals equate their involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice with belonging to a religion is not a claim this study wishes to make. Some of the organisations in this study have, as in my example of Shiva Yoga, gained legal recognition for tax purposes; this, however, is not the case for all forms of Siddha Yoga Practice. Also, the term religion has, for some individuals, negative connotations and, as will be shown in this thesis, many of the participants were attempting to move away from established forms of religion by becoming involved in what they regarded as a spiritual practice. Bouma (2006, p.10) observes that even in mainstream religious perspectives, ‘since the 1990s, the term ‘spiritual’ has become popular, while the appeal of the term ‘religion’ is waning’.

As Hudson (2007) has argued, many commentators on religion in Australia recognise a shift, even in established religious orientations, whereby individuals have moved away from the organisation of the church, mosque or temple while recognising that they are still ‘spiritual but not religious’. NRMs such as Siddha Yoga Practice may desire recognition as a religious organisation for various reasons, although I would argue that they and their participants may also wish to retain their former label of a spiritual practice, which carries less dogmatic connotations. For example, Shiva Yoga (2008), although recognised legally as a religion, promotes its approach as a spiritual practice rather than advertising its legal status as a religion. I do not want to suggest there is a clear delineation between religion and spirituality; far from it. I only wish to point out that there is a perceived delineation amongst participants which will be discussed in this thesis and supported by previous research (Hudson; 2007; Webber, 2002).

The following section gives an outline of the chapters presented in this thesis and how they have attempted to address the research problem.

Outline of the Thesis Chapters 2 through to 5 serve to conceptualise the study and present the research process. Chapters 6 through to 11 present and discuss the study’s findings.

12

Chapter 2 positions the research in a particular area of religious studies. This chapter focuses on those aspects from the sociological study of religion that are important for the discussion of New Religious Movements. The aspects of the sociological study of religion that are presented are in relation to functionalism, secularisation, conversion, religious experience, deviance theory and New Religious Movements, which has also become the concern of psychology and philosophy. In relation to the more contemporary conceptualisations of conversion, sociologists primarily interested in the study of deviance have been highly influential. It clearly appears that sociologists who developed new conceptualisations of conversion also developed the relatively new area of study concerned with NRMs.

Chapter 3 broadens the literature to include important ongoing debates between sociologists, the so called ‘anti-cult movement’ and those from the helping professions. The study of NRMs has created much debate around the issue of affiliation to groups which some perceive as destructive cults. One of the main debates is around the concept of brainwashing. Brainwashing ideas have been very influential in informing helping professionals, including social workers. The final section of the chapter discusses the relatively recent developments with regard to introducing a spiritual and religious focus to social work knowledge, education and practice. This section highlights the growing interest within the social work profession in the variety of religious and spiritual perspectives which are presented by clients. The inclusion of NRMs furthers the discussion on diversity. The chapter concludes by identifying the gaps presented by the review of the literature and helps to position the present study.

Chapter 4 introduces the various forms of Siddha Yoga Practice and a critical evaluation of previous studies of Siddha Yoga. Although none of the participants in this study at the time of the interviews were involved with Siddha Yoga, all were at one stage devotees; this chapter, therefore, in an attempt to contextualise participants’ experience, focuses on aspects of Siddha Yoga that are relevant. This chapter also introduces the two schisms of Siddha Yoga which were the sites of the participant observations and a source of recruitment of participants for this study. The schisms of Siddha Yoga are also discussed in relation to their claim to Swami Muktananda’s lineage of Siddha Yoga Practice. The chapter concludes by restating the gaps presented by the review of the

13 literature in Chapters 2 and 3 and some additional gaps in the literature identified in the present chapter.

Chapter 5 presents the research process and my own position in this particular study. The chapter discusses the qualitative perspective of the study, including the methodological processes involved in the collection and analysis of the materials/data. The study’s aims and objectives are outlined in reference to the research questions that inform the study. A general discussion of the use and choice of qualitative methods is followed by the study’s use of specific aspects of grounded theory, ethnography and phenomenology. A triangulation of methods is used in this study to gain a broader understanding of the study’s research problem and is discussed in relation to this mixed method. This chapter also discusses the use of computer assisted qualitative data analysis software and its use in managing and analysing the materials collected.

The research methods section of the chapter covers: who and what was involved in the study; how access was gained to the Siddha Yoga Practice community; the interviews conducted, participant observations and field notes; the analysis of the data; and the ethics and ethical challenges of conducting the study. The chapter also discusses some of the challenges I encountered as an ex-member returning to the Siddha Yoga Practice community in the role of a researcher.

Chapters 6 to 10 present and discuss the interpretation of the findings from this study of Siddha Yoga Practice, while chapter 11 brings together what has been presented and discussed into a final discussion and conclusion of the thesis. Chapter 6 presents and discusses participants’ discovery of Siddha Yoga Practice. The notion of seeking is explored and there is consideration given to those participants who were seekers and those who appeared to be accidental seekers. Different pathways to participants’ discovery of Siddha Yoga Practice are explored. Also presented are the attractions Siddha Yoga offered to potential devotees. Crises or turning points are also considered along with the participants’ prior spiritual experiences and signs. The discussion in this chapter, as with the next chapter, Chapter 7, is concentrated primarily on conversion.

After establishing in Chapter 6 the various ways in which participants in this study had discovered Siddha Yoga Practice, Chapter 7 goes on to explore how individuals

14 experienced becoming more involved in Siddha Yoga life. This chapter is presented in two sections, as the ways or opportunities to become involved in Siddha Yoga Practice changed as the movement developed. Some of the participants became deeply involved in the early years, while others after the movement became more established. Thus, section 1 explores the early movement and section 2 the established movement.

Section 1 of Chapter 7 explores the growth of Siddha Yoga Practice through the participants’ own experiences. While discussing the ways in which those participants in the early- to mid-1970s became more involved in Siddha Yoga Practice, participants discussed the growth of the early movement and their part in its development. This chapter therefore presents the growth and development of Siddha Yoga (SYDA) in Australia through an exploration of individual participants’ experience of increasing involvement, including going to India, communal living, and small, household meditation meetings. The second part of Chapter 7 presents a somewhat different experience of further participation in Siddha Yoga. The participants who became more involved in the movement during the 1980s, when the movement was well established, had a variety of participation options. In this section, there is a presentation and discussion of the established movement, participants’ experience of living in ashrams in Australia, doing voluntary work for the ashram, and taking on a spiritual name. Finally, there is a presentation of participants’ reflections on their non-involved parents’ thoughts and concerns about their involvement.

Chapter 8 further explores the spiritual dimensions of the participants’ experience of Siddha Yoga Practice. Possibly the most important theme presented in this chapter is the participants’ experience of the guru. Meeting the guru for many of the participants was the beginning of their spiritual life or ‘Sadhana’. Thus, the chapter reports and discusses the participants’ experience of meeting the guru and their experience of ‘Shaktipat’, the spiritual initiation given by the Siddha guru. The overall focus of this chapter is on spiritual experience and the life-changing nature of this experience reported by the participants. The discussion considers the group’s own literature, including the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism, and also extends the previous chapter’s discussions on conversion, particularly in regard to conceptualisations of mystical conversion.

15 Chapters 9 and 10 present and discuss participants’ movement away from, and life after, Siddha Yoga. Chapter 9 includes some of the most controversial and historically relevant issues to participants’ experience of moving away from Siddha Yoga. These issues are in relation to Muktananda’s death, the change of leadership and Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees. Also presented and discussed is the participants’ acknowledgement of the competing interests and responsibilities in their lives, which began to take on more importance than involvement with Siddha Yoga, thereby precipitating the movement away.

Chapter 10 continues the presentation and discussion of the participants’ movement away from Siddha Yoga by exploring how they had refocused their lives after being involved. The chapter explores the participants’ new spiritual affiliations, which have included other paths and new varieties of Siddha Yoga Practice in Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga. The chapter also explores what the participants have kept of their experience of Siddha Yoga.

The last chapter of the thesis presents a final discussion of the study. This chapter brings together some of the important findings of the study and discusses some implications from the study for social work and related disciplines and suggested directions for research. The final section of the chapter is the study’s conclusion.

Conclusion This chapter has given an introduction and some background to the area of study, my own motivations behind the study, highlighted the important concepts and definitions informing this study, and outlined the thesis chapters. The following chapters, Chapters 2 and 3, further the background to the area of study by presenting and critically reviewing the important literature informing this study of involvement in Siddha Yoga Practice.

16 Chapter 2

The Study of Religious Activity

This chapter critically reviews some of the important literature that relates to involvement in NRMs. This review is mostly concerned with the sociological study of religion but includes literature from disciplines such as philosophy and psychology which are also present in the study of religion and important for exploring participants’ experience of a Siddha Yoga Practice. Significant areas of concern within the study of religion for this thesis are: functionalism, secularisation, conversion, religious experience, deviance theory and New Religious Movements. It is important to acknowledge that sociological theory and research has informed social work’s understanding of the constructed nature and contextual factors of individuals’ needs and issues (Healy, 2005; Fook, 1996; 2002). Social work education and practice have drawn significantly from sociological concepts and theories such as stigma, deviance and labelling which are also important to the study of cults/NRMs (Healy, 2005, p. 64).

The following section highlights aspects of the study of religion from mainly a sociological perspective, although it is recognised that sociology, philosophy and psychology all inform the debate on religion and NRMs and have been useful in this critical review.

Aspects of the Study of Religion The task of sociology is to aid men [sic] in achieving a better concrete understanding of the human situation. The sociology of religion is the study of the way in which man’s religious concern enters into all these problems (O’Dea 1954, p.91).

The sociological study of religion explores religious activity in the social world, for, as Durkheim (1965, p.466) argued, ‘religious forces are ... human forces …’ Religion from a sociological perspective is concerned with the study of social aspects of religion and all that those social interactions contain (Cusack, 1998, p.3). This attitude or approach to the study of religion is not primarily concerned with ontology - that is, the

17 exploration of the existence or being of a god or of objective truths about God. These ontological explorations tend to be the concern of some philosophers or theologians. Since the Western Enlightenment, the intellectual exploration of religion, for many who study it, seems to have been denuded of its prior status as absolute truth and relocated within general secular human activity. Stark (1999, p. 250) notes that Comte, then Weber, held that modernity would eventually reduce individuals’ reliance on a mainly theological perspective of human existence because of scientific and social advancements in modern industrial societies. Comte considered that sociology would eventually replace religion and better guide moral behaviours (Stark, 2001, p.4). Secular theories of religion rooted in the Western Enlightenment, and rational and functional perspectives such as those of Weber and Durkheim, did indeed gain favour over theological ones (Sherkat & Ellison, 1999, p.364).

The study of religious activity within sociology has historically been - and continues to be - influenced by the early work of Weber and Durkheim (Berger, 2001; Dobbelaere, 1981; Hamilton, 1998; O’Dea, 1954; Gerth, & Mills, 1972; Willaime, 2004). Weber popularised the term sociology of religion and, with his associates Troeltsch and Sombart, began to develop the discipline (Weber, 1968, p.x). Whereas Durkheim’s legacy formed the foundations for the functionalist theory of religion, Weber’s historical and comparative approach to religion informs theory around institutional and societal change (Jari & Jari, 1991, p.610). As well as his most famous work, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, Weber’s writing on charisma and institution building has been influential in the study of religious movements, particularly in relation to religious leaders and their institutionalised legacy. Weber (1968, p.52) asserts that ‘pure charisma is specifically foreign to economic considerations’ and often in opposition to the regime of daily life. Thus, to establish a community of followers, the charismatic authority of the leader must eventually become routinised (Weber, 1968, p.54). Weber (1968, p.54) argues the newly-founded institution then becomes the ground for legitimate authority and the ‘purely personal characteristics of leadership is eliminated’. Weber’s analysis of the charismatic Prophet across various religious traditions underlines an institutionalising process of historical importance and contemporary relevance. Weber’s analysis is important to the present study considering the death of the group’s leader, Swami Muktananda, resulted in the institutionalising of his personal

18 charismatic authority into the organisation and lineage of Siddha Yoga, and subsequently led to disputes and schism over legitimate claims to this authority.

Durkheim’s approach to the sociology of religion took account of the importance of elementary forms of religious activity, practiced by what he regarded as primitive cultures (1965, p.16). Some of Durkheim’s case studies for broader claims about human society in general included indigenous Australians’ religious life. Durkheim regarded established and complex religions such as the Catholic Church as containing such variety as to make it ‘difficult to distinguish what is secondary from what is principal, the essential from the secondary’ (1965, p.16). Durkheim’s contextualising of religion within the framework of human activity has largely been understood as a functional perspective; that is, the function of religious activity within a particular society (Stark, 2001, p.245). In many ways Weber and Durkheim reduce religious activity to a function within human activity, as opposed to theories anchored in divinity or extra-human spheres. The function of religion has been seen as assisting humans to live with existential dilemmas such as illness, loss, meaninglessness or death (Freud, 1985; Fromm, 1963; O’Dea, 1966).

Stark and Bainbridge (1980a) posit that religion offers compensators or rewards to those who are not able to gain them in their worldly pursuits. Even notions of mysticism, although experiential, can reveal a function of protest against established forms of worship, acting as a revitalisation process (O’Dea, 1966, p.71). Within the sociological study of religion, process and change in regard to societies and institutions became a prominent concern. O’Dea (1954, p.80) argues that, for Weber, and later Parsons, the role of ‘religion not only plays an integrative role for individuals and for society, but also enters into the shaping of social institutions and, through them, in the formation of human personality or character’. For many sociologists it was thought that religion in modern industrialised societies would eventually lose its significance as an integrative force replaced by the spirit of capitalism (Berger 1967; Weber 1958; Wilson 1966). However, the secularisation process of modernity, taken for granted by Weber and many other theorists, whilst evident in many aspects of life, seems not to have been fully realised (Stark, 1999; Taylor, 2007). The growth of NRMs is one example that evidences religion sustaining importance for some individuals.

19 Stark (1999, p. 249) has pointed out that sociologists and other academics have been predicting the end of religion for the past 300 years despite no historical or recent evidence to suggest that religious belief is fading. Berger (2001, p.443) has proposed that, although the meaning of secularisation has been disputed, ‘for most purposes it could be defined quite simply as a process in which religion diminishes in importance both in society and in the consciousness of individuals’. Bush (2007, p.1651) argues that scholars now question whether it can be assumed that secularisation is consistent across all social classes. ‘As former secularisation theorist Peter Berger points out, secularism is most prominent among a cosmopolitan, highly educated, international elite’ (Bush, 2007, p.1651). Berger, once an advocate for the secularisation process of modernity, now regards as unsound the assumption that modernisation will eventually bring about a secular society; however, he does propose that modernisation may be promoting a pluralistic approach to religion (Mathewes, 2006, p152). Berger (2001, p.444) asserts: ‘It is fair to say that the majority of sociologists dealing with religion today no longer adhere to the question of modernity and secularisation’.

Secularisation may be evident in the reduced involvement and influence of religious organisations in political or state institutions (although not in civil society, as argued by Bush (2007)). But, as Stark (1999) has pointed out, this may not correspond to a lack of individual belief in a god. The philosopher Caputo (2005), re-emphasising Stark’s analysis of the end of religion presented above, asserts:

To the great astonishment of learned despisers of religion everywhere, who have been predicting the death of God from the middle of the nineteenth century … religion in all of its manifold varieties has returned. Even to say that is misleading, since religion was reported missing mostly by the intellectuals; no one outside the academy thought that it had gone anywhere at all (Caputo, 2005, p.66).

Caputo (2005, p.60) of course makes a point to not only critique Nietzsche (considering it was Nietzsche ([1882] 2001) who proclaimed that God is dead) but also the psychoanalytical perspective of Freud (1927), the view of Marx (1964) and even further to the general rational and reductionist view of the Enlightenment towards religion.

20 Sociology of religion, especially that of early sociologists, purposefully bracketed out metaphysical claims. Some aspects of the sociological approach to religion may, therefore, be critiqued for stripping the religiosity out of religion and may even seem offensive to some insofar as religion is reduced to a societal function. Religious or spiritual experience has been a neglected aspect of the rational study of religion, especially for sociology (Cusack, 1998, p.3), and there is some call for its inclusion (Howell, 1997, p.142). However, ‘the complexity of religious phenomena and the profound importance of individual experience for religious action were difficult to comprehend from the lens of secularisation theories’ (Sherkat & Ellison, 1999, p.365). The question of the divine or spiritual experience within religious traditions is vigorously debated in the philosophy of religion from a constructivist perspective and within phenomenology (Katz, 1983; Forman, 1999; Caputo, 2005; Gimmelo, 1983; Levinas, 1995; Proudfoot, 1985). The divine or spiritual experience has been a lesser topic in sociological discussions of religious affiliation. Nevertheless, the process of religious affiliation explored by sociologists, especially in regard to conversion, does not appear to dismiss religious experience altogether but, rather, locates the place of religious experience within the larger, chiefly social process of affiliation (Durkheim, 1965; Lofland, 1966; Lofland & Skonovd, 1981; Lofland & Stark, 1965; Rambo, 1993; Richardson, 1985). Durkheim (1965, p.465) agrees with James that religious experience, ‘if we choose to call it this …’ is a common phenomenon experienced by individuals; though, this does not imply that the individuals are correct in their religious assumptions drawn from the experience.

A major focus of religious activity in sociology from the early 1960s has been the study of conversion, especially to NRMs. Sociology is in part the study of process and change and thus seems uniquely situated for the study of conversion in which individuals’ spiritual experience is seen as part of some conversion motifs (James, [1902]1979; Lofland & Skonovd, 1981; Rambo, 1993). Of course as Cusack (1998, p.176) has argued not all conversion is individualistic; there are many examples of mass conversions where a ruler or monarch’s conversion is subsequently taken up by his or her people because of the close bonds that exist. With a focus on NRMs, the sociological study of religious activity has at times been a study of conversion to what was regarded as a deviant religious perspective. Deviance theory appears to have been very influential in the initial study of NRMs. The following section on conversion,

21 while discussing some historical background to the conceptualisation of conversion, is focused mainly on those empirical studies of NRMs which have informed contemporary ideas.

Conversion Conversion is commonly understood in sociology as ‘a radical reorganisation of identity, meaning, life’ (Travisano, 1970, p.594). Conversion has been a primary area of study for sociologists in relation to individuals’ affiliation to religious perspectives (Lofland & Stark, 1965; Lofland & Skonovd, 1981; Malinowski, 2004; Rambo, 1993; Richardson, 1978, 1985; Stark & Bainbridge, 1980a). Moreover, although conversion has been a primary focus for those who study religious affiliation, the understanding of conversion has changed over time (Paloutzian, Richardson, & Rambo, 1999; Snow & Machalek, 1984).

The earliest studies on conversion tended to de-emphasise social processes to focus almost solely on religious experience primarily within a Christian tradition. While James ([1902]1979), Nock ([1933]1998) and Starbuck (1897) present valuable studies of mystical conversion, these offer little insight into social processes of assimilation or contextualising the experience. Starbuck’s (1897) early work on conversion included the individual’s spiritual conviction, a crisis, followed by a new life. As a psychological model, it was much in the same vein as the traditional conceptualisation of conversion in the ‘Pauline experience’. The conversion of St Paul on the road to Damascus, or the ‘Pauline experience’, is possibly the best known model of conversion. Here, the individual, in a single epiphany or by the grace of God, has a cognitive shift which is followed by changes in behaviour (Richardson, 1985; Lofland & Skonovd, 1981). As Richardson (1985, p.165) put it: ‘A powerful external agent over which Paul held no sway caused Paul to be converted. Traditional views of this event attribute agency to an omnipotent God’. Nock’s (1998, p.7) theological interpretation of conversion, as expressed in the following passage, is consistent with those of James and Starbuck.

By conversion we mean the reorientation of the soul of an individual, his [sic] deliberate turning from indifference or from an earlier form of piety to another, a

22 turning which implies a consciousness that a great change is involved, that the old was wrong and the new is right.

The Pauline experience is a norm in the discourse of conversion in the Christian milieu (for example, ‘born again’) and a motif for those becoming involved in other mystical traditions (Lofland & Skonovd, 1981, p. 377; Richardson, 1985, p.165;). Yet, while the Pauline model of conversion may relate to some conversion experiences, it does not give adequate consideration to the individual personal agency or role as a seeker apparent in others’ conversion motifs (Richardson, 1985; Rambo, 1993).

‘Joining a religious cult can bring about sudden and dramatic changes in behaviour. One common explanation for this is “brainwashing”, as if these curious behavioural changes are caused by radical shifts in personality’ (Balch, 1980, p.137). Brainwashing perspectives developed out of the earlier psychological models of conversion which appeared to de-emphasise personal agency (Richardson, 1986, p.166). The brainwashing conceptualisation of conversion in relation to NRMs has been mainly influenced by the work of Lifton (1961). There is considerable debate about this model of conversion and its application to NRMs, which is taken up in an extensive discussion in the following chapter.

A movement towards an interactionist conceptualisation of conversion, which viewed the individual as a seeker interacting with the NRM rather than as a passive recipient of grace, was initiated by Lofland and Stark (1965). Their 1965 study of the Unification Church (commonly know as the ‘Moonies’, in reference to its founder and leader Reverend Moon) began what Snow and Machalek (1984) have regarded as the third wave of conversion models (the first being the Pauline and the second brainwashing), which views conversion as a process and regards potential converts as seekers. Their ‘world saver model’ expresses the importance of social bonds and close contact between current and new members, in perpetuating the new belief system (Lofland, 1966, p.8). The process of conversion, Lofland and Stark (1965, p. 874) observed, included:

1) experience enduring, acutely felt tensions, 2) within a religious problem solving perspective, 3) which leads him [sic] to define himself [sic] as a religious seeker, 4) encountering the [cult] at a turning point in his life, 5) wherein an affective bond is

23 formed (or pre-exists) with one or more converts, 6) where extra-cult attachments are absent or neutralised, and 7) where if he/she is to become a deployable agent, he/she is exposed to intensive interaction.

Lofland (1977, p.815) reassessed aspects of the ‘world saver model’. When he later re- engaged with the Unification Church, he realised that any individual, at times, could be at a ‘turning point’ and, further, individuals who prior to involvement had not been religious seekers, had also joined the group. The stages to conversion in the ‘world saver model’ may have been overly emphasised and not generalisable (Kox, Meeus & Hart, 1991; Malinowski, 2004). Lofland (1977, p.816) argues that his model was an analytic description of what he and Stark witnessed in the Unification Church at that particular time and, thus, what is of most importance is that it is an example of a process model of conversion. Lofland (1977, p.816) advises researchers of conversion to report their observations rather than testing the ‘world saver model’. Although the ‘world saver model’ has been negatively critiqued for its relevance as a stage model, the model’s emphasis on interpersonal bonds and networks has been largely supported (Malinowski, 2004, pp.15-16).

Barker (1984) also conducted research and field work with the Unification Church, at a time when the group had become more successful in gaining followers world wide. Barker’s (1984) work clearly builds on Lofland’s (1966), expanding on the contextual factors and emphasising personal agency in the process of affiliation. Lofland (1977, p.817) himself did feel that the ‘world saver model’ presented a passive actor, although Richardson (1985, p.169) notes that Lofland’s reassessment may be overstated given he opened the way for active conceptualisations of individuals in conversion studies (Balch, 1980; Balch and Taylor, 1977; Barker, 1984; Bromley and Shupe, 1979; Stark & Bainbridge, 1981; Straus, 1979). The most notable scholar to initiate this perspective was a student of Lofland, Roger Straus, who developed an activist paradigm in regard to seeking behaviour.

The activist paradigm attempts ... to investigate how concrete human beings construct and reconstruct their social and phenomenological realities, while giving full attention to collective behaviour and institutions. Religious conversion, which is actually an after-the-fact analytical label for a range of observed phenomena in

24 which individuals affiliate with and commit themselves to groups approximating our notions of "religious," is approached as at once a personal and a collective accomplishment on the part of situated, social actors (Straus, 1979, p.162)

Richardson (1985, p.164) considers the general move from a passive actor - under the traditional (Pauline) view of conversion - to the active as akin to a Kuhnian (1970) paradigm shift. Rather than conversion being seen as having happened to an individual almost instantaneously, it became possible to consider the individual’s role in the conversion experience prior and throughout a longer process of interactions with the new belief system. Balch’s (1980) analysis, informed by role theory, emphasises the mimetic aspects of the individual’s involvement in cultic movements. Balch (1980, p.143) notes that individuals appear to take on the behaviours of the group in regard to speech and action, though, while these may appear dramatic, this may not be a sign of conviction. Whether individuals actually become true believers is, for Balch, very difficult to discern.

This research convinced me that much of the current writing about conversion is misleading because writers don't know enough about the routine features of everyday life in cults. The private reality of life in a religious cult usually remains hidden beneath a public facade of religious fanaticism (Balch, 1980, p.142).

Balch (1980) and Kilbourne and Richardson (1989) refer to Goffman's (1959) notion of frontstage and backstage behaviour to explain the façade that may be presented to the public. Balch (1980, p.143) has shown that those who are apparently converted act more casually out of public view, and with other members. Balch’s (1980) work considers whether participants in a movement are converted at all, or if conversion is something that is purely contextual and possibly time limited. Rambo does argue that all conversion exists in a particular context and conversion may not have the same relevance outside of that context. Rambo (1993, p.7) notes that conversion ‘implies a static phenomenon. We should bear in mind that conversion is actively constructed by a religious group and by the wishes, expectations, and aspirations of the convert or potential convert’.

25 Lofland and Skonovd (1981) recognised from the growing literature on conversion that there appeared to be different processes of conversions which may be specific to an individual or type of group. They have outlined six ‘motifs’ of conversion which reflect the findings of conversion studies. The motifs presented below are: Intellectual, Mystical, Experiential, Affectional, Revivalist, and Coercive.

Conversion Motifs - Lofland and Skonovd (1981, p.375) 1. Intellectual 2. Mystical 3. Experimental 4. Affectional 5. Revivalist 6. Coercive 1. Degree of low or none none or little low medium high high Social Pressure 2. Temporal medium short long long short long Duration 3. Level of medium high low medium high high Affective Arousal 4. Affective illumination Awe, Curiosity Affection Love fear Content Major Variations love, (& fear) (& love)

fear 5. Belief- belief - belief - participation - participation - participation - participation - Participa-tion participation participation belief belief belief belief Sequence

Listed are the five major (though not exhaustive) features or variations of Lofland and Skonovd’s (1981, p.375) model which help to ‘locate each in a very large field of possibilities’. The five major variations relate to:

1. The degree of social pressure the individual experiences during the conversion process. 2. Temporal duration or the subjective experience of the length of time of the conversion process. 3. Level of Affective Arousal - a gauge of the emotional arousal involved in the conversion experience. 4. The variety or type of the Affective Content involved towards arousal. 5. Belief-Participation Sequence - the order in which individuals participate in a group before believing the concepts or theology, or believe in the concepts or theology of the group before choosing to participating.

26

Lofland and Skonovd (1981, p.376) point out that many converts appear to actively participate in a group before adopting the group’s concepts or theology. As Balch (1980, p.142) has noted, ‘the first step to conversion … is learning to act like a convert’.

For Siddha Yoga Practice, which is largely a mystical tradition, the second motif, ‘Mystical’, expresses the type of conversion that may have relevance to the participants in the present study. In relation to Lofland and Skonovd’s (1981) conversion motifs, an individual who would fit into the ‘Mystical’ motif would have experienced low or no social pressure to join the group and they would be converted in a relatively short period of time. In regard to the level and content of arousal, this would be expected to be high, especially for a group such as Siddha Yoga which practices communal chanting and meditation. According to Lofland and Skonovd’s (1981) model, many of the participants of Siddha Yoga would, prior to their involvement, already believe in many of the concepts and theological perspectives of the group. Lofland and Skonovd’s (1981) motifs are useful in considering participants’ varying experiences of conversion to Siddha Yoga later in the findings chapters of this thesis.

In concluding this discussion of conversion, it is important to acknowledge that most of the research and theory-building since the 1960s has been undertaken by researchers conducting empirical studies into New Religious Movements. Many of the early empirical studies, including Lofland’s (1965), were influenced by sociological deviance theory, especially that of Becker ([1963]1973). The following section on New Religious Movements critiques this area of study in general and the influence of deviance theory. Finally, the chapter concludes by highlighting some significant aspects of the Australian experience of NRMs and how NRMs have been understood in Australia.

The Study of New Religious Movements The term New Religious Movement (NRM) has been used by sociologists to attempt to define a group of often unrelated spiritual or religious groups or movements that became prominent in Western societies towards the end of the 1960s. NRMs have also been termed ‘cults’; however, considering the derogatory usage of the word cult, sociologists have preferred the more neutral term New Religious Movement (Barker, 1986; Melton, 1999; Olson, 2006; Richardson, 1997). Even though particular groups,

27 such as those based on the guru-disciple traditions from India, are not really ‘new’, they were to Western societies in the late 1960s. Barker (2004) highlights that the term New Religious Movement may refer to many non-traditional or quasi-religious groups including modern psychology, UFO, science fiction or even groups that only exist in Cyberspace.

The study of NRMs is a comparatively new area of sociology with just over 40 years of exploration. Of course, there is possibly nothing new about the NRMs at all. Most sociologists would agree that new religious groups have regularly appeared throughout history (Lewis, 2004; Melton, 2007; Miller 1991); some have become established in the community while others have disappeared. The early 1960s presented an opportunity for researchers, especially in America, to explore these and other processes in action. After the lifting of a ban on Asian immigration to America during the 1960s, America experienced an influx of alternative religious movements, mostly from India (Finke & Iannaccone, 1993, p.37).

The study of NRMs by sociologists arose not only from an interest in religious activity but from an interest in the sociology of deviance. The sociological study of deviance has included studies of groups and individuals who are perceived on the outer of the general society, such as drug users, sex workers or those involved in NRMs (Anleu, 1999; Thio & Calhoun, 2006). Becker’s (1973, p. 8) relativistic view of deviance acknowledges that, ‘once we have described the rules a group enforces on its members, we can say with some precision whether or not a person has violated them and is thus, on this view, deviant’. Therefore, what particular act is considered deviant is relative to the particular society. The notion of deviant religious activity as an approach in the study of religion gained relevance in the 1950s and 1960s. Sherkat and Ellison (1999, p.365) argue that this was due in part to the influence of scholars who were previously researching social movements. These sociologists were conducting ethnographic field work, focusing usually on small slices of deviant lifestyles, often in urban settings (Becker 1973; Whyte, 1973). Lofland and Stark’s (1965) study of the Reunification Church, titled Becoming a world-saver: a theory of conversion to a deviant perspective, highlights the sociological tradition that informed this work. ‘As such, their work can be viewed as the beginning of sociological and social psychological studies of new religious movements in America, even though they themselves were more interested in the deviancy aspects

28 of their work’ (Richardson, 1985, p.168). Other early studies involved research with quasi-religious UFO groups (Balch, 1978; Festinger, 1956), which also emphasises the use of deviant rather than religious perspectives. It is important to add, however, that the sociologists who were initially influenced by deviance theory are responsible for the newer conceptualisations of religious affiliation. This is largely due to the interactionist component of deviance theory which, as with the symbolic interactionist perspective in general, is concerned with individuals’ interactions with each other and their environment (Becker, 1973; Lemert, 1972). Thus, it can be understood how and why these sociologists developed active rather than passive theories of conversion when studying involvement in NRMs.

The predominant method for empirical studies of new religious movements has been ethnographic fieldwork, including participant observation and semi-structured interviewing (Balch, 1978; Barker, 1984; Blackmon, 2003; Curtis, 1991; Festinger, 1956; Hayden, 1991; Ketola, 2002; Rochford, 1989; Straus, 1979). More recently, some researchers have been carrying out field work via the Internet, which involves a virtual form of participant observation, joining chat rooms, email correspondence, discussion boards and instant messaging (Kaufman, 2003; Tweddell, 2002).

Within the study of NRMs, ex-members are also active in researching their own movements (Boeri, 2002; Fennimore, 2000; Oto, 1998; Puttick, 1997). Fennimore (2000), an ex-member of the Rajneesh, conducted a study of 10 women who had previously been affiliated with the Rajneesh movement. Considering the sensitive nature of the information that she wished to explore with these women, she found her status as an ex-member helped with access. Overall, her findings show a positive assessment of affiliation and integration into mainstream community. Similarly, Boeri (2002), an ex-member of The Family, reported that the women in her study were unlikely to discuss their affiliation with others who were not involved. Boeri’s (2002) participants had also, to varying degrees, integrated into the mainstream; however, the abuses they experienced in the movement did not generally result in a positive assessment of their involvement. Studies by ex-members appear to add a valuable insider-outsider perspective (Kanuha, 2000) to the study of NRMs. They also present a unique opportunity for access to a sometimes closed area of social inquiry.

29 The following section highlights literature on the Australian experience of NRMs. Australia appears to have a strong tradition of academic research in the area of New Age, Wicca and Pagan spiritualities, as well as conventional and minority religious practices and sociological theory (Bouma, 2006; Cusack, 1998, 2007; Hartney, 2008; Hume, 2007; Possamai, 2005). Although limited in comparison to the US or UK, Australia also has a growing body of empirical research into NRMs (Howell, 1997; Ireland & Baker, 2003; Kerkhove, 2007; McIlwain, 1990; Ross, 1983).

New Religious Movements in Australia Australia is recognised as having an increasingly diverse range of religious affiliation (Bouma, 2006, 2003, 1996; Ireland & Baker, 2003; Possamai, 2003). Bouma (2003, 2006) found Australia had certainly become more religiously diverse with immigration, and increasingly more individuals in the community were choosing their own faith rather than the faith of their birth, particularly in regard to conversion to Buddhism. Australians appear to have also adopted ‘new age’ spiritualities and amongst the young there is a tendency to move away from established forms of religion towards personal spiritualities (Mason, Singleton & Webber 2007; Possamai, 2001; Webber, 2002). Possamai (2001, p.92) recognises that esoteric knowledge appears no longer a secret or the sole domain of ascetics and priests, as individuals pursue their own inquiry into the nature of spirituality.

‘New religious movements in Australia number in the several hundred. Most have their origins overseas. They range in size from small and exclusive groups to organisations with thousands of members’ (HREOC, 1998, p.7). Australia has, to an extent, been tolerant of the rich diversity of religious groups found in the community, including NRMs; though there is a mixed picture. Two governmental reports into religious practice and belief (HREOC, 1998; JSCFADT, 2000), which included submissions from religious groups, religious scholars and anti-cult advocates, affirmed the freedom of religion and belief in Australia (HREOC, 1998), and considered it difficult to define certain groups as cults or to institute regulations of conduct (Hill, 2001; Possamai, 2003). Ireland and Baker (2003) argue that some NRMs may even contribute to and enrich civil society through participation. The practice of religious belief, even among NRMs, is not prohibited in Australia; however, groups have been the subject of discrimination and misunderstanding (HREOC, 1998, p.76). This has usually been

30 reinforced by media representation. There have been occasions where a group’s or an individual’s religious affiliation has been in conflict with the broader community (Kohn, 1996; Possamai, 2003; Richardson, 2001) and it is important to note these cases.

The disappearance of baby Azaria Chamberlain in 1980 brought negative attention to her family’s affiliation with the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Tippit (2004, p.2) recognised ‘the Chamberlains’ religion, little understood at the time, also sparked wild innuendo: that Azaria meant "sacrifice in the wilderness"’. Lindy Chamberlain subsequently served three years in prison for the murder of her child Azaria before being acquitted of the charges. Historically, the Seventh-day Adventist Church in Australia has been treated with some suspicion (Richardson, 2001, p. 259).

Three members of the Eastern-based Ananda Marga group who were accused of the Hilton Hotel bombing in 1978 also spent many years in prison before being acquitted of their charges (Richardson, 2001, p.260). Both cases were highly publicised in the 1980s and the Chamberlain case in particular highlighted the hysteria caused by stereotypical views of alternative religious beliefs and practices (HREOC, 1998, p.76). During the 1980s the Unification Church and the Church of Scientology faced court cases in Australia over their legitimacy as religious organisations. The Unification Church was eventually able to establish centres while Scientology, after initially being banned in several states, was eventually recognised as a religion by the High Court (Richardson, 2001, p. 262). However, what seems to have brought groups with alternative religious beliefs to the attention of the authorities, media and the public in Australia have been the allegations of abuse towards children. This is of particular interest to social work considering the link between the social work profession and child protection work and in particular the role played in removing children from the Children of God/The Family during the 1990s (Lewis, 1994; Bouma, 2006).

The removal of 153 children from the communal homes of the group The Family (formerly the Children of God) by the police and community services departments in NSW and Victoria constitutes the largest action of its kind against an NRM in Australia (Bouma, 2006; Kohn, 1996; Lewis, 1994; Richardson, 2001). The children, thought to be at risk of sexual abuse, were soon returned to their parents because of the lack of evidence against The Family (Bouma, 2006; Hill, 2001; Richardson, 2001). Wilmoth

31 (2004, p.4) discussed in retrospect the children’s experience of being taken into custody by the welfare authorities. For many of the children, it was a frightening and physically intrusive experience, especially the examination undertaken for signs of sexual abuse. From Wilmoth’s report (2004, p.4), the experience appeared to make the children less trusting of the world outside the group.

Anne Hamilton-Byrne, who led a group in Victoria also referred to as The Family, was also raided by police following concerns of child abuse (Miller, 1995). Hamilton-Byrne had adopted 14 children and raised them as her own, dying their hair blonde in an attempt at familial resemblance (O'Connor, 2005, p.3). Although children were removed from the group by police, no charges of abuse were laid against Hamilton-Byrne (O'Connor, 2005, p.3; Topsfield, 2004, p.3). Since then, a perspective on the children’s experience has been presented by Sarah Hamilton-Byrne (1995), Anne’s adopted daughter, outlining the abuses of the group, including violation by drugs, violence, sleep and food deprivation, confinement, emotional manipulation and intense religious indoctrination. Miller (1995, p.179) argues that Sarah Hamilton-Byrne’s published account is full of inconsistencies and unsubstantiated rumours, while acknowledging that, ‘Anne Hamilton-Byrne’s world is hardly a utopian one’. It is interesting to note that Anne, Sarah and other members of the Family spent time with Muktananda, the founder of Siddha Yoga, in the US (Hamilton-Byrne, 1995); and, as Miller (1995, p.180) points out, Muktananda was Hamilton-Byrne's teacher.

Two other groups that have come to the attention of the authorities and the media in Australia following sexual abuse towards minors are Kenja Communication and The Order of Saint Charbel. The Order of Saint Charbel’s leader William Kamm (also known as the Little Pebble) was, until 2002, part of the Catholic Church when his group lost its legitimacy in part due to his apparent prophetic visions (Wickham & Hartney, 2006, p.293). Kamm’s prophecies were typically apocalyptic, referring to end-time, war and natural disasters, and held that Kamm was to be the final Pope of the Catholic Church (Wickham & Hartney, 2006; Venter, 2006). Kamm was jailed in 2005 for five years for sexually abusing a 15-year-old girl (Senescall, 2005, p.2). In 2007 his sentence was increased by four years following further charges (Duffy, 2007, p.7). Although Kamm is now in prison his group continues to support this charismatic leader. Wickham

32 and Hartney (2006, p. 300) regard Kamm’s charismatic leadership and his ‘supernatural qualities’ among the reasons they consider this group a cult/NRM.

In 2007, Kenneth Dyers, the 85-year-old co-founder of Kenja Communications (a self- improvement group) was reported to have committed suicide before he could be tried for allegations of the sexual abuse of two 12-year-old girls (Morris, 2007; Teutsch, 2007). The Kenja group put a full-page notice in Australian newspapers declaring his innocence, and at his memorial, his partner and co-founder Jane Hamilton vowed the group would survive the loss of its ‘prophet’ (Morris, 2007, p.5). The notice accused ‘cult-busting groups’ of pursuing Kenneth Dyers over years and pushing him towards suicide (Teutsch, 2007, p.23). Ken Dyers, Kamm and Anne Hamilton-Byrne would appear to embody what Weber (1968) regarded a charismatic form of authority. Dyers was hailed a prophet by his group, and Kamm and Anne Hamilton-Byrne led by prophetic visions. All appeared to be central authorities for their groups.

It is an important consideration that in Australia, NRMs have mainly attracted the attention of the media and authorities following allegations of child abuse. This has also led to popular misconceptions of NRMs, other minority religions and their practices (Hume, 2000, p.30). There are many groups throughout Australia who may have equally non-conformist religious beliefs as the Children of God/Family or the Order of Saint Charbel and do not come to the attention of the authorities or the media. On the other hand, abuses have recently been uncovered against children in the care of established religious faiths including the Catholic Church, Anglican Church and the Salvation Army (Ainsworth & Hansen, 2006; Berry, 2000; O’Callaghan & Briggs, 2003; Pitman, 2008; Rossetti, 1995). In Australia, NRMs are tolerated to a degree comparable to that of conventional religions (to the extent that they do not violate laws). This does not mean there has been no alarm in the wider community over unconventional groups; rather, it highlights the difficulty in discriminating between groups that may actually cause harm and those that simply appear bizarre to the outside (HREOC, 1998, p. 76). Wickham and Hartney (2006, p. 301) question why groups such as Kenja or Kamm’s Order of Saint Charbel have been largely ignored by academics, though the same could be said of other NRMs in Australia. The problem appears to be that the community has been largely educated about cults/NRMs by journalists who are not apprised of objective

33 information about NRMs (Beckford, 1999; Possamai, 2003; Richardson, 1996; Wright, 1997).

Conclusion In this chapter, I have highlighted important aspects from the study of religion, mainly from a sociological perspective, but also from those areas of psychology and philosophy that are important in the study religion and NRMs. It is important to acknowledge that the study of religion in sociology takes place mostly within a secular tradition. Many of the early studies of NRMs followed the sociological tradition of Whyte ([1943] 1973), Goffman ([1961]1987) and Becker ([1963]1973) who undertook ethnographic studies in urban settings, among what were then regarded as deviant groups such as street gangs, drug users, jazz musicians, the mentally ill and eventually deviant religious groups. In this critical review, it has been important to emphasise that the early research into NRMs followed an existing tradition of deviance research influenced by constructivist and interactionist ideas so as to differentiate these explorations from theological explorations of religious activity.

Research on conversion has been presented mainly from sociology and specifically from the study of NRMs in order to show the development from a passive model of conversion to an active one. I have argued that this move from a passive to an active model of conversion also reflects the symbolic interactionist perspective of these researchers.

Because this is a study of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia, I have also referred to literature, debates and controversies that have taken place in an Australian context around NRMs. Of considerable importance for social work is its involvement with The Family, and an acknowledgement of the negative public image NRMs and other minor religious movements have gained through media representations.

The next chapter continues the critique of the literature reviewed for this study. This chapter focuses on the brainwashing debate between sociologists, the helping professions and cult information services and the relevance of that debate in conceptualising cult/NRM involvement. This is followed by a section on social work’s recent recognition of the value of spirituality and religion in social work knowledge,

34 education and practice. The conclusion of the chapter discusses the gaps in knowledge and further areas of exploration highlighted by the literature reviewed in the present chapter and the next, and how this study attempts to address these gaps.

35 Chapter 3

Brainwashing and the Helping Professions

A critique of affiliation and brainwashing broadens the discussion on NRMs to include important ongoing debates between sociologists, the so called ‘anti-cult movement’, and those from the helping professions, including social workers. The first section of this chapter on affiliation and brainwashing forms an important part of the literature reviewed for the present study. The importance of a critique of this literature stems from the disputes about its relevance in the construction of the NRM experience and for helping professionals and other concerned groups, especially in the role of assisting those who leave NRMs. The final section of this chapter explores the relatively recent developments in regard to introducing a spiritual and religious focus to social work knowledge, education and practice which appears to have been influenced in part by the sociology of religion. The chapter concludes by discussing the gaps in knowledge and areas for further exploration highlighted by the literature reviewed and how this study attempts to address these gaps.

Affiliation and Brainwashing The conceptualising of conversion as a process of brainwashing is the most popular model outside of sociology (Snow & Machalek, 1984). ‘The term brainwashing was developed by a journalist (Edward Hunter) writing about the Communist takeover in China and was later adopted by a few scholars and many journalists as an explanatory device’ (DeWitt, Richardson, & Warner, 1997, p.5). The brainwashing or thought reform thesis took hold in the anti-cult movement during the late 1960s and early 1970s in parallel with the growth of NRMs in Western societies. The attraction of these movements to some young, middle-class men and women appeared to need some explanation. It did not seem possible that intelligent young people could be participating of their own free will; parents were more willing to accept that their children had been brainwashed (Bruce, 2002). This is understandable given that some at the time argued that brainwashing or thought reform was a very powerful psychological process with which humans cannot help but comply (Verdier, 1977).

36

The predominant notion or model of brainwashing in regard to NRMs or cult involvement is influenced by the work of Lifton (1966) and his study of Communist China’s thought reform program during the Korean War (Anthony, 1999). Schein (1961) too has influenced notions of coercive persuasion from his own study of China’s thought reform.

Lifton was a US Army psychiatrist during the Korean War and was based for the duration of his study in Hong Kong. This gave him direct access to repatriated victims of Communist China’s thought reform. Lifton interviewed Western and Chinese individuals in an attempt to study the thought reform techniques used by the Communist Chinese government in the early 1950s. Below are presented summaries of Lifton’s (1966, pp.419-437) eight themes which make up his model of thought reform from his study of brainwashing.

• Milieu Control The total control of an individual’s environment. Including control of what an individual can do, see, hear, read, write and eat. • Mystical Manipulation The introduction of a higher purpose or power with near mystical qualities which initiates specific, pre-planned behaviours and emotions which, to the individual, appear to spontaneously arise from the environment. • The Demand for Purity The world is divided into absolute good and evil. The good represents all that is consistent with the reformers’ goals and anything outside of this is evil. Thus, evil must be purged from the individual and society. The demand for purity causes the individual to feel guilt and shame. • The Cult of Confession Because of the demand for purity, confession is used to purge evil. Individuals are made to confess to thoughts they did not have and to actions they did not commit. Confession purifies the individual. • The “Sacred Science”

37 A framework of logic which makes exaggerated sacred claims that are presented as scientifically precise. The sacredness lies in the fact that the logic cannot be questioned. An individual who questions that logic is considered immoral, irreverent and unscientific. • Loading the Language Complex issues and problems are reduced to clichés that are easily remembered and repeated. Clichés become the start and end of analysis of the ideological framework. This limits the discussion of the ideology to jargon that supports the ‘sacred science’ and limits the expression of the individual. • Doctrine over Person The doctrine or myth surrounding the ideology is more true, valid and real than what is presented by human experience. Rather than adapting the myth to human experience the individual is moulded to the myth. • The Dispensing of Existence The world is divided into those who are with the ideology and those who are reactionary. If a reactionary individual cannot become one of the ‘people’ through reform of their character and attitude, they may be dispensed with as they are regarded as ‘non-people’.

Integral to the Chinese thought reform program as outlined in the above model was the use of lengthy incarceration and force. Lifton’s 25 Western participants reported a common experience of being chained for weeks on end, allowed very little sleep, very little food and being subjected to emotional and physical harassment by cellmates and officials in order to extract confessions. Many endured more than three years of incarceration. Lifton’s analysis of this experience of thought reform has shown that those who seemed to ‘convert’, did so as a matter of survival (Lifton 1966, p.150) and points to the resilient nature of humans under difficult circumstances (Lifton, 1966, p.238). ‘They had undergone the ultimate in physical pain, and yet survived; they had hit rock bottom in their imposed negative self analysis, and yet had emerged with some measure of self respect’ (Lifton, 1966, p.238). Schein’s (1961) study also found the Chinese were able to gain co-operation of the prisoners but were not so successful in changing beliefs. The common experience from Lifton’s follow-up interview some years later was that of a sometimes difficult ‘recovery and renewal’ (Lifton, 1966, p.222) among participants. 38

The 25 Western individuals interviewed by Lifton undoubtedly experienced horrific treatment over many years and may not easily be compared with the voluntary and usually limited involvement of people in NRMs. However, Lifton’s work has been used as the basis of a model of cultic involvement by key helping professionals such as Singer, Hassan and Langone (Anthony, 1999; Anthony & Robbins, 2004), all highly influential in informing what Barker (2002) has termed ‘cult awareness groups’. The use of this model by helping professionals suggests a commonality in the two situations. Barker (1984), however, has called the comparison of Chinese Communist thought reform with NRMs absurd. Barker’s own research of the Unification Church, accused during the 1970s of using brainwashing to recruit members, found no evidence to support the application of Lifton’s or other models of brainwashing to NRMs. Despite this, the comparison continues to be made (see Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Larson, 1997; Ward, 2000; 2002; Whitsett, 2003). The application of thought reform or brainwashing to NRM affiliation has consistently been rejected by many of those who study NRMs (Barker, 1984; Bromley, 1983; Richardson, 2001; Richardson & Introvigne, 2001; Stark & Finke, 2000), yet has found lasting favour with health professional and cult information services (Anthony, 1999; Barker, 1997). For Robbins and Anthony (1982, p.288), ‘psychiatrists and psychologists have been at the forefront of medicalising cults’. DeWitt et al. (1997, p.5) recognise that, ‘even though the term brainwashing has little scientific support [it] is often used as a social weapon against unpopular groups …’

One possible reason why Lifton’s study has contributed to the development of affiliation models focusing on brainwashing could be the Reunification Church’s Korean origins and the controversial mass weddings highlighted in the media (Barker, 1984). During the late 1970s and early ‘80s the ‘Moonies’ (as the Reunification Church is known) were possibly the most controversial NRM and considered a destructive cult (Anthony & Robbins, 2004; Stark & Finke, 2000). Although this group had difficulty in gaining membership during the late 1960s (Lofland, 1966), it became better organised and more successful after its leader Reverend Moon moved to the United States in 1971 (Barker 1984; Bruce, 2002; Lofland, 1978). The later techniques of the Reunification Church had a superficial resemblance to thought reform as presented by Lifton (1961). This included isolating potential recruits from their usual environment, typically in the offer of a weekend at a country retreat where recruits were never left alone and even

39 accompanied to the toilets. One of the main techniques was to ‘love bomb’ the recruit, an attempt to help the potential recruit to feel wanted and loved by the whole group (Barker 1984; Galanter, 1989). Most of the weekend would be taken up with activities from early morning to late in the evening, thereby reducing available sleep time; furthermore, the food was neither of high quality nor substantial. As potential recruits became tired and hungry the enforcement of the group’s message increased as they were slowly introduced to the leader and his ideas. The practice of deceiving potential recruits as to the group’s true nature and leadership was known as ‘heavenly deception’ (Galanter, 1989, p.161) and considered appropriate by members of the church. These techniques were obviously deceitful; however, from the group’s past experience, they realised that their message and the role of their leader as the world saviour had to be imparted slowly to reduce the rejection experienced in the 1960s (Lofland, 1966, 1978). To highlight the broad similarities of the Unification Church’s recruitment efforts in reference to Lifton’s model of brainwashing or thought reform I have isolated two of Lifton’s eight themes ‘Milieu Control and Mystical Manipulation’.

The two themes that relate broadly to aspects of the Unification recruitment program are ‘Milieu Control’ and ‘Mystical Manipulation’. ‘Milieu Control’ involves the control of daily schedule including food intake, sleep, information and time and space for critical reflection (Lifton 1961, p.420). ‘Mystical Manipulation’ relates to the group’s efforts at planned spontaneity provoking arousal responses that could be attributed to the mystical qualities of the group (Lifton 1961, p.422). From Barker’s (1984) study, it is apparent that the Reunification Church experimented with these types of influence. However, participants, while not encouraged to, were free to leave, unlike Lifton’s sample, whose participants endured more than three years of these and other deprivations yet survived and reverted to their previous beliefs after release from prison (Lifton, 1961, p.150). The relevance of the brainwashing thesis in its entirety would appear overstated in regard to the experience of individuals’ affiliation to NRMs based on the significant deprivations and extended period of imprisonment experienced by Lifton’s participants. Even so, the brainwashing thesis is dominant in regard to educating parents and ex- members by many cult information services and exit counsellors (see: Cult information Service, 2008; Cult Information & Family Support (CIFS), 2008; Factnet, 2008; International Cultic Studies Association (ICSA), 2008; Wellspring, 2008). One of the most significant relationships between brainwashing and its application to cults or

40 NRMs is that Lifton (1961, p.454) himself held that the method of thought reform resembled those of religious indoctrination. However, Lifton was not at that time singling out cults/NRMs but, rather, theorising about all forms of established religion. This is clearly seen in his model, especially when the aspects of incarceration and torture are set aside. Following this, some helping professionals influenced by his model have tended to use the term ‘mind control’ to differentiate cult/NRM involvement from the overtly coercive characteristics of the Chinese thought reform studied by Lifton and Schein (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Langone, 1995).

Within the discourse of the above mentioned cult awareness networks and literature it is common to view the individual as having been recruited to the movement rather than having joined of their own free will (Hassan, 1990; Larsen 1997; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Ward, 2000, 2002; Whitsett, 2003). From this perspective, cult affiliation is not perceived to be voluntary; it is caused by the accumulation of coercive and destructive psychological processes typically conceptualised as brainwashing (Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Lalich, 2004; Larsen 1997). Members are perceived to have replaced their own beliefs and values with those of the group’s. Life choices, including career, education and relationships, may become subordinate to the group’s goals (Lalich & Tobias, 2006). Furthermore, involvement has been perceived to be destructive to family and intimate relationships (Hassan, 1990; Whitsett, 2003).

Considering the destructive nature of involvement in cults/NRMs presented by proponents of the brainwashing thesis, it is not surprising that some kind of intervention is paramount in resolving issues (Durocher, 1999; Tobias & Lalich, 1994; Langone, 1995; Shaw, 2003). Intervention strategies have included deprogramming, exit- counselling, a theological form of exit-counselling and one-on-one counselling. Deprogramming has been the most controversial intervention given that it usually entails kidnapping the member of a cult and keeping them locked up during the deprogramming process (Hassan, 1990; Langone, 1995). Deprogramming seems significant because the cult is considered to have brainwashed the individual. This intervention has been critiqued for being overly coercive (also illegal) and very expensive (Hassan, 1990; Langone, 1995, 2005). Exit-counselling on the other hand is a voluntary intervention, where a concerned family member or friend convinces the cult member to discuss his or her involvement with an exit counsellor and, if available, ex-

41 members of their group (Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Langone, 1995). As with deprogramming, this form of intervention tends to rely on supplying information about the cult and the techniques of mind control believed to have been used so that the individual can make an informed decision about their involvement (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Langone, 1995). Exit counselling, like deprogramming, usually takes place intensively over many days and can cost a significant amount of money, although less than deprogramming (Langone, 1995). Theological forms of exit counselling follow a similar process as regular exit counselling except that there is a further goal of helping the cultist to develop a ‘correct’ relationship with God or an established religion (for an expanded discussion of intervention see Langone, 1995).

Because most helping professionals who work with ex-cult members are inclined towards a brainwashing or mind-control conceptualisation of cult/NRM involvement they tend to differentiate between the pre-cult and the cult-personality (Jenkinson, 2007; Lalich & Tobias, 2006). From this perspective, the cult-personality is imposed upon the pre-cult one, from which a counselling strategy is derived to enable the ex-member to rid themselves of the cult-personality by informing the ex-member of the process of mind control or brainwashing they had experienced (Goldberg, 1997; Hassan, 1990; Jenkinson, 2007; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Ward 2000). However, as one of the members of Durocher’s (1999) study noted, it may be inappropriate to teach ex-members about brainwashing techniques before allowing individuals to explain their own experience, in their own way. Similarly, Wright (1987) asserts that ex-members rarely perceive their experience as brainwashing, or any form of psychological manipulation, if they have not been exposed to exit counsellors or anti-cult groups. The significance of these studies is that individuals may have their own way of understanding their experiences that may be overlooked when applying a brainwashing model. An application of brainwashing to all ex-members’ experiences appears to deny openness to the unique perspectives of individuals’ experiences.

Samways’ (1994) research attempts to bring a broader psychological perspective to the mind-control debate. Similar to the work of Lindholm (1990, 2005), Samways considers the arousal response to the crowd experience, charismatic leadership, music, the sensation of touch, and the manipulative use of psychological tools such as neuro linguistic programming as effective methods of implanting hypnotic suggestions to new

42 recruits. In this case, the environment could assist in the receptivity to the message, which in some ways reinforces Lifton’s (1961) idea of milieu control within his thought reform model.

It is difficult to pinpoint, from the themes presented by researchers, a ‘type’ of individual that could be influenced by mind control techniques allegedly used by NRMs. Themes have included those who are in life transitions, lonely, young, mature, single, middle class, from dysfunctional families (Galanter, 1989; Lofland, 1966; McIlwain, 1990; Ward, 2000). Tobias and Lalich (1994, p.28) assert ‘the reality is that anyone, at any age, who may be in a life crisis or transition can get sucked in’. They may be partially correct in-as-much as affiliation to groups may change as the group itself changes over time (Bruce, 2002; Langone, 2005). When NRMs first appeared, young people’s enthusiasm and lack of responsibility may have been a useful resource to growing movements (Wright 1987). As movements become more established, the emphasis may change from the need to attract participants conducive to a communal lifestyle to one of offering services to low participation consumers. (Bruce, 2002; Wright 1987). As such, pinpointing the demographic of those who are recruited or attracted becomes increasingly difficult. Life transitions appear a recurring theme although the concept of life crisis, or transition leading to a search for meaning, is not new. The sociology of religion’s functional theorists recognise religion forming out of a ‘breaking point’ in the lives of individuals or societies, in that, ‘religion contributes to social powerlessness, it offers an answer to the problem of meaning’ (O’Dea, 1966, p.16). However, it has to be recognised that many people experience life transitions without joining NRMs or conventional religious institutions. The true paradox of the brainwashing thesis is that all researchers, even the proponents of the thesis, acknowledge that most people leave NRMs or ‘cults’ of their own free will (Langone, 1995; 2005; Stark & Fink, 2000; Lalich & Tobias, 2006). While brainwashing or thought control attempts to provide a theory to explain the initial involvement and retention in an NRM (Anthony & Robbins, 2004), it does not sufficiently explain subsequent unassisted defection.

The difficulty with the brainwashing thesis or metaphor, as Barker (2002) describes it, in regard to NRM involvement is that it fails to perceive the individual as an active agent or seeker. The involved individual is reduced to an automaton, zombified. Lalich

43 and Tobias (2006, p.48) describe the cult and pre-cult personality as, ‘the former smiles benignly because the latter is safely bound and gagged, locked up in a cage of fear’. This idea of a double personality is also derived from Lifton’s analysis (Anthony & Robbins, 2004). However, considering most people’s experience of NRM involvement is short-lived (Bruce, 2000) and that most people leave of their own free will, a development of a double personality may be too strong a claim. Anthony’s (1999) critique of the major proponents of the brainwashing thesis is that, rather than systematically researching New Religious Movements, they have merely adopted the brainwashing theories of Lifton in relation to Chinese and North Korean Communist indoctrination during the Korean War. Although Lofland (1981, p.382-383) agrees that many of the settings presented by NRMs could not be considered conducive to brainwashing in regard to Lifton’s model, he does acknowledge that:

The possibility of social-psychological coercion cannot, nevertheless, be ignored; interactional affective pressures and fears resulting from theological precepts could conceivably function as coercively on some individuals as actual physical restraints and threats (Lofland, 1981, p. 383).

From the literature reviewed, the brainwashing thesis appears to lack sufficient relevance to NRMs, although it does appear that those who have undertaken research with ex-group members have revealed important issues in regard to movement away from a group including negative experiences. It is known, however, that some of those who move away from a group will initially experience some type of psychological distress or adjustment (Aronoff-McKibben, Lynn & Malinoski, 2000; Maple, 2007; Galanter, 1983; Lewis & Bromley, 1987; Swartling & Swartling; 1992; Walsh, Russell & Wells 1995; Wright, 1991). Lewis (2005, p.18) acknowledges that ‘no serious observer would disagree that there are genuine issues of abuse, exploitation, and undue influence associated with at least some minority religions’. Grief and a sense of loss of friendships and community, loss of faith, ‘wasted years’, and for some women, longstanding regret over missing out on having children are amongst the common concerns of those who have moved away from a group. Some ex-members also appear to experience some difficulty regathering their prior social supports or developing new ones, as well as difficulty with entering the workforce or education (Durocher, 1999; Boeri, 2002; Tobias, 1994; Zablocki, 2007). Those who have worked therapeutically

44 with clients have found ex-members of groups often have dissociative episodes triggered by situations or sensations that remind them of the group (Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Henry, 2007). Triggers may include having a group of ex-members seated in a circle (a common practice in many Bible or therapeutic groups) or teaching a client to relax or using hypnotism, which is especially disarming for those coming out of meditation groups (Durocher, 1999; Henry, 2007).

Despite what appear to be serious issues for ex-members prior to involvement, Wright (1991) found, from a sample of 45 voluntary defectors, that within 2 years and with the help of their social support networks, they had adjusted successfully into mainstream community. Walsh (1996, p.47) also agrees that psychological difficulties reported on exiting a group may reduce over time. Galanter (1989, p.174) surveyed 66 ex-Moonies after 4 or more years and found their general wellbeing scores were no different from the general population. Zablocki (2007), in his longitudinal follow-up study over a 25- year period, found that feelings of regret around being involved in a cultic group gradually reduced, except for those women who were unable to have children for reasons associated with their affiliation. Findings from research do appear to emphasise a significant period of adjustment for some individuals, and the need for support after leaving an NRM.

Practitioner sessions held during International Cultic Studies Conference in Brussels in 2007, revealed that the brainwashing model was identified as influencing interventions in clinical practice, although it was not used in isolation. Practitioners at the conference gave case examples which included Gestalt, systemic, trauma and other psychological theories as being useful in their practice with ex-members of cults/NRMs (Henry, 2007; Jenkinson, 2007).

Knapp (2008), a social worker and ex-member of Transcendental Meditation, noted that his practice is influenced by theories of trauma which include ‘betrayal trauma’, a form of trauma resulting from betrayal or abuse by a primary caregiver or trusted organisation and usually associated with child abuse (Freyd, Klest & Allard, 2005). However, he also recommends on his website literature that supports brainwashing models. This is possibly because, when it comes to counselling ex-members, there is little other specific literature to recommend and therefore the brainwashing model,

45 although it does not seem to be the only influence, becomes the predominant foundation of understanding cult/NRM involvement for many who counsel ex-members and inform families of current members (Anthony, 1999; Barker 1997). However, Schoener (2008) in a recent conference on abuses within mainstream churches, explained that his counselling service in Chicago, the ‘Walk in Counseling Center’, dealt with over 2000 cases of abuse every year. Schoener (2008) highlighted that the counsellors, psychologist and social workers at the centre deal with issue similar to those reported by some ex-member of cults/NRMs. The ‘Walk in Center’ is a valuable demonstration of the helping professions addressing issues that are also found in some ex-members of cults/NRMs without a dependency on a brainwashing model.

What I have attempted to highlight so far in this chapter is that both researchers (mainly sociologists) who conduct empirical studies on cults/NRMs and helping professionals who work with ex-members and concerned families or friends have for the most part a contrary understanding of involvement. Although there appears to be some agreement on some negative outcomes of involvement, the issue of the usefulness of the brainwashing/mind-control model of cult/NRM involvement remains a major source of disagreement (Langone, 2005; Zablocki, 2001). Those who have worked therapeutically with ex-members have obviously learned a great deal about aspects of cults/NRM involvement and have used their knowledge of various therapeutic techniques to help those who have been harmed by their involvement. However, considering the large body of empirical research conducted on cults/NRMs that discredits a brainwashing/mind-control model of involvement, it would seem that helping professionals and cult information services may need to re-evaluate their dependence on this perspective. Alternatively, as Zablocki (2001, p.165) has suggested, the need for a better concept than brainwashing to describe the various psychological and social influences used by some groups to gain and maintain members. While there are already mind control, thought reform and coercive persuasion, these appear to also reflect, as Zablocki (2001, p.162) has pointed out, a mystification of ‘ordinary social influence into a magic spell that somehow allows Gurus to snap the minds and enslave the wills of any innocent bystander unlucky enough to come into eye contact’. For Zablocki (2001, p.162), those who subscribe to this notion of brainwashing have ‘marginalised themselves academically …’ Galanter (1995, p.85) asserts, ‘what brainwashing, or mind control, is really about is influence: the ability of certain individuals and environments

46 to cause us to change our beliefs, attitudes, and/or behaviour’. Certainly the influence of environment on behaviour, the compliance to authority figures’ instructions and conformity to peers has already been demonstrated by Zimbardo’s (Haney, Banks & Zimbardo, 1973), Milgram’s (1975a, 1975b) and Asch’s (1951) well known studies on obedience and conformity in a variety of contexts. However, it seems in relation to religious groups, overt types of coercive influences are usually only discussed in reference to cults/NRMs rather than mainstream religious groups.

Social workers, like other helping professionals, have at times relied on the brainwashing model as a basis for understanding individuals’ involvement in NRMs in the context of therapeutic work with ex-members or members’ families (Goldberg, 2007; Knapp, 2008; Markowitz, 1995; Shaw, 2003; Ward, 2000, 2002). Yet, given the growing understanding of alternative religious perspectives by social workers interested in religious diversity, social work has the opportunity to develop its own understanding of NRMs and those who are attracted to them. Thus, the final section of this chapter discusses the relatively recent developments in regard to a spiritual and religious focus in social work knowledge, education and practice. However, before discussing the literature on spirituality and religion in social work, it is important to identify social work’s development in Western societies from one of Christian-based volunteerism as well as its subsequent move towards a secular profession. The move towards a secular profession in relation to social work practice is important as it is also a factor in some social workers’ resistance to considering the significance of religion and spirituality in a contemporary professional practice.

Social Work and Spirituality Western social work, historically, was developed from Christian-based volunteerism. In its move towards professionalism it became in the most part a secular pursuit and attempted to shake off its early Christian moral and ethical roots (Besthorn, 2002; Bowpitt, 1998; Lloyd, 1997; Nash, 2002; Skehill, 2000). Bowpitt (1998, p.676) asserts: ‘the Christian legacy has been the skeleton in the cupboard, something best forgotten and preferably ignored’. Modern conceptualising of social work ethics has tended to emphasise Kantian or Utilitarian philosophical perspectives (Hugman, 2003) over the religious (Baskin, 2002; Bowpitt, 1998). ‘Professional scepticism grew about the dangers of religious proselytisation, moralistic judgmentalism, threats to separation of

47 church and state, and theological explanations of human behavior and social problems’

(Canda, 2002, p.1). The professionalisation and secularisation of social work is considered to have taken place by the middle of the 20th century (Furman, Zahl, Benson & Canda, 2007, p.243). Holloway (2007, p.277) considers that the move towards a secular profession has made social work less inclined to incorporate a spiritual dimension into its practice than that of other helping professions such as nursing. Prest, Russel and D’Souza (1999, p.60) acknowledge that ‘an interest has been growing among professionals in the various mental health disciplines regarding the interface of spirituality, religion and clinical practice’. For O’Collins (2003, p.5), ‘many [social workers] still see spirituality as inexorably linked to formal and more conservative forms of institutional religion and are wary that ‘professional standards’ will be eroded’. When social work has recognised religion, it is, as Holloway (2007, p.277) argues, usually in the context of ethnic minorities and cultural difference. It should be noted, however, this is a more accurate account of British and Australian social work rather than American, which tends more towards religion in many aspects of private and professional spheres (Bouma, 2006; Bruce, 2002).

In the United States, there has been growing interest and acknowledgement of religion and spirituality in social work education and practice (Clews, 2004; Cnaan & Boddie, 2002; Coholic, 2001, 2003; Gilligan & Furness, 2006; Hodge, 2005; Hodge, Baughman & Cummings 2006; Holloway, 2007; Sahlein, 2002; Tangenberg, 2005). Although some argue there is little guidance for practice (Hodge, 2004; Holloway, 2007), social workers have begun to broaden their knowledge base to include diverse forms of religious and non-religious spiritualities (Besthorn, 2002). Canda et al (2003) have noted more than 700 publications that intersect social work and spirituality. Canda (2003) acknowledges from his own survey of the literature that the majority of articles on spirituality, as it relates to social work, have been written in the previous 15 years. Further, these articles are in the main from the US, with a growing number from the UK and few contributions from Australia (Gilligan & Furness, 2006; Holloway, 2007; Rice, 2002). Gilligan and Furness (2006) have shown that the US has been at the forefront of introducing aspects of spirituality and religion into social work practice, curriculum and the national code of ethics. Australia is possibly more aligned to the United Kingdom (UK) insofar as religious or spiritual aspects of practice are recognised but not yet significantly impacting on practice or the social work curriculum (Holloway, 2007;

48 Rice, 2002). Gale (2007, p.xix) acknowledges that, in Australia, ‘spirituality has not enjoyed a prominent position in the literature of the helping professions.’

Studies in the US and the UK have overwhelmingly shown that social workers reflecting on their undergraduate education would have found useful some inclusion of religious or spiritual content (Canda, Nakashima & Furman, 2004, p.33). In Graff’s (2007, p. 251) most recent study, she found students were not prepared for effective and ethical work with individuals with diverse religious or spiritual beliefs. Graff’s findings are consistent with earlier studies (Furman, Benson, Grimwood, Canda, 2004; Gilligan & Furness, 2006; Sheridan & Amato-von Hemert, 1999). The problem may be twofold: students may have not examined their own beliefs, nor become aware of those of others (Gilligan & Furness, 2006; Nash, 2002; O’Collins, 2003). Edwards (2002, p.80) argues that social workers should reflect on their own, often hidden, spirituality perspective and on how this might be reflected onto others. Graff (2007, p. 253) acknowledges there is a need to introduce social work students to diverse religious and spiritual traditions so they can competently and appropriately work with clients. For Holloway (2007, p.276), ‘the ‘spiritually aware’ and ‘spiritually sensitive’ social worker will make that unique assessment of need, regardless of their personal connection with spirituality or adherence to any belief system’. In regard to attending to clients’ needs, social work supports a holistic approach which includes the psychological, the social and recently the spiritual (Coholic, 2003; Gale, Bolzan & McRae-McMahon, 2007; Nash & Stewart, 2002, 2005). Social work’s holistic approach recognises human diversity and therefore attempts a person-in-environment approach when interacting with individuals and groups in relation to meeting needs (Canda, 2003, p.81). ‘When social workers lack detailed, empathetic information about a group’s narrative, stereotypes and prejudices can flourish’ (Hodge, Baughman & Cummings 2006, p.222). Hodge, Baughman and Cummings (2006, p. 211-212) have argued that, for social workers to become competent when working with religious or spiritual issues and groups, they would have to increase their knowledge base of these issues and groups. To help facilitate this, social work could gain by the extensive knowledge of religion and spirituality from disciplines such as sociology, philosophy, nursing or pastoral care (Canda, 2003; Holloway, 2007).

49 To increase social work’s knowledge of religion and spirituality is not to argue that social workers can work from a personal spiritual perspective or foster spirituality in clients, but to acknowledge that, since social workers deal with all manner of difference, they should also have knowledge of religious or spiritual difference and the role this may have in an individual’s life. As Canda (2003, p.82) has so well put, ‘by spiritually sensitive social work, I mean social work that is aware, knowledgeable, respectful, and skilful in responding to the diverse religious and nonreligious forms of spirituality among our clients and in the world generally’. Religion or spirituality is part of an individual’s meaning system, especially when considering a holistic approach. Coholic (2007, p.148) argues ‘that if we, as practitioners, ignore the spiritual dimension of people’s lives, our ability to assist them may be impaired’. From a constructivist perspective, to disregard the religious or spiritual aspects of identity ignores large portions of an individual’s meaning making system (Northcut, 2000, p.156). Practitioners may be able to enhance clients’ strengths by including the discussion of religion and spirituality as part of the therapeutic process (Koenig, McCullough & Larson, 2001; Northcut, 2000). Northcut (2000, p.158) has found that, with certain clients, the use of a spiritual genogram can assist in recognising the places, people, events that have contributed to an individual’s sense of identity. Furthermore, Canda and Phaobtong (1992, p.65) have recommended that social work interventions, such as refugee services, should be informed by the refugee group’s cultural and spiritual perspectives. Canda and Phaobtong (1992) have successfully co-operated with Buddhist Monks to assist in the delivery of culturally and spiritually appropriate services to clients.

Although there is an increasing acknowledgement of religious and spiritual dimensions to social work practice, it is still in its infancy. Gilligan and Furness (2006, p.635) recognise that:

Many practitioners continue to equate a ‘religion-blind’ and ‘spirituality-blind’ approach with what they see as ‘anti-oppressive practice’. As a result, they frequently risk imposing culturally incompetent ‘secular’ and ‘rationalist’ interventions on service users, who may have very different actual needs and wishes.

50 It is, therefore, important to consider, in view of social work’s struggle to communicate with clients of conventional religions, its greater challenge in integrating perspectives on New Religious Movements. Yet, adding NRMs to the ongoing conversation of spirituality and religion, and their relation to social work practice, helps to further challenge the secular and rationalist perspective that appears to ignore ‘where the client is at’.

Professional social workers cannot continue to exclude a significant, sometimes central, dimension of an individual’s identity in social group work practice and education. Spiritual values, beliefs, and practices are not only keys to culturally competent assessment, but sources of resources for many clients who cope with the challenges of living (Gilbert, 2000, p. 82).

From the perspective of social work practice, it is paramount to gain knowledge of difference and how this may be socially constructed (Fook, 1996, 2002; Healy, 2005). The present study has important implications for social work practice, research and education. It presents a crucial addition to social work discourse on difference, spirituality and religion. In relation to affiliation with NRMs, this thesis aims to challenge the predominant conceptualisation by many helping professionals of conversion in the brainwashing thesis (Anthony, 1999; Barker, 1984, 1996).

The social work literature discussed in this section can be broken down into three major categories. These are: literature that informs social workers about various religious and spiritual orientations; literature that advocates introducing knowledge of various religious and spiritual orientations into the social work curriculum; and literature that informs those who wish to conduct a spiritually oriented form of social work practice. The present thesis would fit most comfortably into the first two categories and possibly may make a contribution to the third.

Conclusion Why people join NRMs and what they do with that experience is already the basis of many studies. However, due to the reliance on aspects of the brainwashing thesis by the helping professions and cult information services, the topic deserves further exploration.

51 Although elements of the notion of mind control may suit certain aspects of NRM involvement or certain groups, they are over-emphasised and overshadow other possible interpretations of the experience. Due to an increase in literature on NRMs and information services which inform the community on movements, there does appear to be a need for well-informed services to enlighten and support families and ex-members who may be adversely affected by NRM involvement. However, these supports offered to families and ex-members also need to present accurate, critical and unbiased information if they are to be educationally or clinically helpful. It is apparent from empirical studies of NRMs that this is still a fertile field (spanning 40 years or so) and not yet fully understood. NRMs offer a vibrant tapestry to the religious and social scene and although many appear to offer fulfilling alternative meaning systems and lifestyles, there are those who abuse their privileged positions of power. If there has been abuse there needs to be an understanding of how it happens and in what situations.

The literature review has identified a number of gaps in knowledge and areas for further exploration. The first is that empirical sociological studies have had limited influence in informing helping professionals or anti-cult groups of the nature of cults/NRMs or individuals’ experiences within these types of groups. Therefore, a brainwashing/mind- control model of cult/NRM involvement, while not supported by many empirical sociological studies, has continued to be influential in many clinical settings and cult information services. Further work is needed to ascertain what the sociology of religion offers to the understanding of NRMs and why this has had little influence on helping professionals. The present study attempts to address this gap in knowledge by engaging with sociological knowledge of NRM involvement and undertaking empirical research into an NRM with the intention of informing the helping professions.

Second, Australia has a growing, albeit limited, body of empirical research on NRMs which forms part of the diverse range of religious affiliation present in Australia. Australian society appears tolerant of NRMs, yet knows relatively little of what it is tolerating. This study has the potential to add to the growing knowledge of NRMs in Australia and the specific experience of those involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice.

Finally, as the discipline of social work internationally is currently showing an interest in introducing a spiritual and religious focus to social work knowledge, education and

52 practice, the present study aims to contribute to this growing perspective by developing knowledge of NRM involvement.

Before presenting the research methodology used in this study it is necessary to provide an understanding of the context of the research. Therefore, the following chapter discusses Swami Muktananda’s original movement ‘Siddha Yoga’ (SYDA), two schisms of that movement - Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga - and the empirical studies on Siddha Yoga.

53 Chapter 4

Siddha Yoga Practice

The purpose of this chapter is to introduce aspects of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice that are relevant to an understanding of this particular practice as an NRM and to the experiences of its adherents. The critical discussion presented in this chapter is not intended to be a definitive history, portrayal or theology of Siddha Yoga Practice but to introduce Siddha Yoga Practice, which is the main site of exploration for this study of cult/NRM involvement (for a chart of the Siddha Yoga lineage for this study see Appendix 1). The chapter explores the introduction of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice to the West, and aspects of the group’s philosophy and significant events related to the history of Siddha Yoga that have relevance to the experiences’ of the participants in this study. Siddha Yoga is the name of Muktananda’s original movement; it also known as Siddha Yoga Dham Associates (SYDA), and is now headed by Gurumayi. This history of Siddha Yoga in this chapter includes the succession of leadership from Muktananda to co-leaders Gurumayi and Nityananda and the subsequent leadership dispute and schisms. Knowledge of these events is important for contextualising the participants’ experiences in findings Chapters 6-10. This chapter concludes with a critical evaluation of previous studies of Siddha Yoga.

Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Siddha Yoga Practice was introduced to the West in 1970 by Swami Muktananda (1908-1982) as part of his first venture outside of India (Thursby, 1991; White, 1974). After his visit, devotees established centres and ashrams. Like other Indian-based movements, such as ISKCON or Rajneesh/Osho, Siddha Yoga would be considered an NRM in the terms proposed by Melton (1993) because when it entered the West, it gained converts from the host country. Although guru-disciple traditions were well known and had been established in India for centuries, during the late 1960s and early 70s these groups offered the West an alternative spirituality to the predominant Christian perspective. In his lifetime Swami Muktananda conducted three tours to the West, passing on the teachings of his own guru Bhagawan Nityananda (1888-1961) in what was considered a lineage of Siddhas, or perfect masters (Brooks, 2000; Foster,

54 2002). ‘The underlying traditions of Siddha are Vedanta and Kashmir Shaivism, and the practices are of kundalini yoga’ (Beit-Hallahmi, 1993, p.284). Siddha Yoga’s practices include Shaktipat initiation (the awakening of the spiritual energy known in this tradition as kundalini awakening by the grace of the guru), meditation, chanting and ‘seva’ or service to the guru (Melton, 1993, p.935). The charismatic presence of the guru is, however, possibly more central to the practice of Siddha Yoga than the individual spiritual practices (Thursby, 1995, p.206). The guru-disciple relationship in Siddha Yoga Practice is therefore central to the movement and to the potential devotee’s spiritual awakening.

When an open and receptive person comes in contact with the Shakti of a living Siddha, it can cause a spontaneous spiritual awakening within the individual. In the Eastern scriptures this awakening or initiation is known as Shaktipat. Once this occurs, the individual begins a process leading to total transformation (Siddha- Yoga, 1989, p. 1).

Shaktipat is also known as ‘kundalini awakening’ or the ‘awakening of the kundalini’ (Muktananda, 1990; White, 1974). From the perspective of Siddha Yoga this awakening is the beginning of the participant’s spiritual life or ‘Sadhana’, which in the guru- disciple tradition of India is the practice of spiritual disciplines in order to attain god realisation (Sharma, 2002; Sinclair-Brull, 1997; Uban, 1977). The concept of Shaktipat in Siddha Yoga is largely derived from the philosophical tradition of Kashmir Shaivism (Brooks, 2000; Muktananda, 1975; Shankarananda, 2003). The present form of Kashmir Shaivism originated in the late 18th century. One of the primary texts is the Siva Sutras, a revealed text whose authorship is attributed to the Hindu god Siva, as revealed to Vasugupta (Chatterji, 2004, p.4; Muktananda, 1975; Singh, 1990).

Singh (1990, p.3) recognises that the Shaiva religion is perhaps the most ancient faith in the world; prior to Vasugupta it was an oral tradition. Kashmir Shaivism attempts to explain the way to enlightenment or the recognition of the true or supreme self, or Shiva (Shankarananda, 2003, p.53). Shankarananda (2003, p.57) asserts Shaivism is a life- affirming philosophy which acknowledges that all we see and experience is god. Within the practice of Siddha Yoga all is god, and becoming god is an aspiration for the follower. From the point of view of the Shiva Sutras, when a yogi eventually achieves

55 the highest state he/she becomes Shiva, or god (Singh, 1982, p.186). In reference to the Shiva Sutras, once this state is achieved the guru or sadguru, or perfect guru, becomes an instrument of knowledge and the universe is filled with his/her Shakti or energy (Singh, 1982, pp, 197-197). This is the claimed attainment of the guru within the Siddha Yoga tradition (Foster, 2002, Uban, 1977).

Singh (1990, p.26) notes that, for the individual to become liberated, it is not ‘achieved by mere intellectual gymnastics, it comes by saktipat [sic] (the descent of Divine Sakti) or … Divine grace’ (Singh, 1990, p.26). Thus, the guru can be seen as a very important aspect of Siddha Yoga Practice, as the grace bestowing power of Shiva or god. The Guru Gita, a 182-verse hymn from the Skanda Purna, which dates from the 6th to 8th Century CE (Chapple, 2005, p.15), provides a template for the relationship between the guru and the follower for devotees of Siddha Yoga, and is chanted daily in its ashrams. According to the Guru Gita, ‘there is nothing higher than the Guru’ (SYDA, 1990, p.28). Muktananda also wrote many books on the subject of the guru, using his relationship with his own guru as an example.

By the time of Muktananda’s death in October 1982, Siddha Yoga had grown into an international movement with ashrams and centres around the world. Before Muktananda died, he installed two of his devotees to lead the group as co-gurus (Beit-Hallahmi, 1993; Thursby, 1991). During the Guru Purnima celebration in 1981, Muktananda named as his successor Swami Nityananda (1962 - ); six months later Nityananda’s sister Swami Chidvalasananda, formerly Malti, and now known as Gurumayi (1958 - ), was named co-successor (Brooks, 2000, p.115). Nityananda and Gurumayi were children of long-term devotees of Muktananda who had for many years lived and travelled with him. The new gurus of Siddha Yoga travelled extensively in their three years together as co-leaders until the 3rd anniversary of Muktananda’s death, which was held at Gurudev Siddha Peeth, the ashram in Ganeshpuri, India. This occasion took place in October 1985 and attracted thousands of Western and Indian devotees; it appeared to be a high point of the movement, which had become a multimillion-dollar corporation (Caldwell, 2001, p.26). However, it was also a turning point for the movement, as divided loyalties became evident amongst devotees towards the two gurus. Nityananda on one occasion, in front of many devotees, took Gurumayi’s hand, held it up and said with some emotion, ‘No matter what you do, no matter what you

56 think of us, we won’t split’, which appeared to be a reference in relation to the growing division of loyalties among devotees (Harris, 1994, p.102). As Thursby (1995, p.206) has noted, it is the guru’s ‘felt presence’ that is key to Siddha Yoga Practice, and given that the movement had two gurus, this made the Siddha guru more accessible to the devotees around the world than during the time of Muktananda.

On the 10th of November 1985, Nityananda renounced not only his co-leadership of Siddha Yoga but his vows of a sannyasin monk (see Kottary 1986 for Nityananda’s account of these events). In a letter to devotees, the trustees of the Siddha Yoga announced: ‘you should know that the SYDA foundation recognises Gurumayi Chidvilasananda as the sole spiritual leader of Siddha Yoga’ (Chidvilasananda, 1986). What actually happened during this period of Siddha Yoga has been the subject of contention for over two decades. Melton (1993, p.935) has referred to this event as Nityananda’s retiring, and Thursby (1991, p.177) as a leadership dispute. Both may be to some extent correct. Siddha Yoga first suggested to their followers that Muktananda had only intended Nityananda to co-lead the group for three years and then step down. After Nityananda left the movement it was reported in the Indian press and the Indian Illustrated Weekly that he had been forced to stand down as co-leader (Harris, 1994; Kottary 1986). However, Caldwell (2001, p.28) asserts that ‘SYDA later pressured Illustrated Weekly into a full retraction of all charges with the clout of their powerful lawyers’. At the same time, Siddha Yoga reported that Nityananda had allegedly fallen from his sannyasin vows of celibacy by having affairs with some of the female devotees (Chidvilasananda, 1986). These allegations were not denied by Nityananda in a later interview for The New Yorker (Harris 1994).

After Nityananda’s departure from Siddha Yoga he reinstated his sannyasin vows in the tradition of Adi Acharya, with the support of the Mahamandaleshwar Swami Brahamanand Giriji Maharaj, and re-established his role as a successor of Muktananda by creating his own organisation, Shanti Mandir in 1987 (Beit-Hallahmi, 1993; Foster, 2002; Melton, 1993). Nityananda was then reportedly harassed by supporters of Gurumayi for what they considered his illegitimate claim to the lineage of Siddha Yoga (see Harris (1994) for a full account of this period). Thursby (1991, p.178) also noted that Siddha Yoga experienced Nityananda’s reassertion of his succession to Muktananda as a threat and ‘in order to protect the right to lawful use of basic terms,

57 practices, and materials utilised in the movement against unexpected challenges … registered them’. The protection of the name of Siddha Yoga seemed important to Siddha Yoga’s asserted sole claim to the lineage of Muktananda (Brooks, 2000; Williamson, 2005). Nityananda was all but erased from the history of Siddha Yoga except for a few pages in Siddha Yoga’s Meditation Revolution: a history and theology of the Siddha Yoga Movement (Brooks, 2000, pp.131-134).

Siddha Yoga continued under the sole leadership of Gurumayi throughout difficult periods of the 1980s and the later challenges of the The New Yorker article, (Harris 1994) as will be discussed. Since 1985 Siddha Yoga has been led solely by Gurumayi (Beit-Hallahmi, 1993; Brooks, 2002, Williamson, 2005). In 2002, Williamson (2005, p.149) reported (quoting Siddha Yoga Foundation figures) that Siddha Yoga had 800 meditation centres world wide and seven ashrams. In 2008 its website provided contacts for only 133 centres with three of the seven ashrams no longer open to the public but operating as retreat venues for committed devotees. Williamson’s study (2005, p.163) highlights a decline in Siddha Yoga membership, and the shutting down of some of the group’s facilities. However, because there is no formal membership in Siddha Yoga (Melton, 1993, p.935), it is difficult to accurately evaluate the group’s member base. Even so, the huge decline in the number of centres would certainly suggest a significant downturn in regard to affiliation. However Pitchford et al (2001, p.389) assert that an apparent downturn in a movement may also produce a core of members who are highly committed and may increase morale by redefining the group’s mission. The shifting culture and new and innovative directions (such as greater use of technology) of Siddha Yoga, as presented by Williamson (2005), do appear to reflect a committed group that is reassessing its present and future priorities.

The following section introduces Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga. Some of the participants in this study were at the time of the interviews involved with these two schisms of Siddha Yoga. Also, the participant observation and some of the networking for participants was undertaken in these movements (this is further discussed in the methodology, Chapter 5). Therefore the following section explores Shanti Mandir, Shiva Yoga, and the concept of schisms generally, in order to further contextualise the participants’ experiences of Siddha Yoga Practice.

58 Schisms of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Just as Gurumayi’s group continues to preserve the lineage of Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice, so too does her brother Nityananda and former Siddha Yoga swami, Swami Shankarananda, through their own organisations. Both of these groups could be described as schisms of Siddha Yoga in that they broke away from the original movement and continue to practice in the same tradition. Schisms are known to arise out of leadership disputes or over doctrinal differences (Melton, 1991; Rochford, 1989; Wallis, 1979). Both Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga may be considered as schisms developing from a leadership dispute. Doctrinally, however, Siddha Yoga, Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga appear consistent.

Although Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga was a minor New Religious Movement compared with ISKCON and others, it is interesting to note that, since its appearance in the West in 1970, it has given birth to offshoots and schisms. There are many groups in the West which are derived from Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice, including: Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir, Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga, Master Charles’ Synchronicity, Jivan Mukta Swami Ganapati’s Siddha Shiva Yoga, Acharya Kedar’s Supreme Meditation, Mark Griffin’s Hard Light Center of Awakening, and Sally Kempton. The groups of specific interest for the present study are Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga. With the support of a number of Siddha Yoga devotees (but not the leadership), both Nityananda and Shankarananda developed their own movements after moving away from Siddha Yoga, which today continue the lineage of their guru and emphasise the importance of the guru-disciple relationship within Muktananda’s tradition. Shanti Mandir, in particular, presents a challenge to Siddha Yoga’s sole claim to the Muktananda lineage, considering Nityananda was once co-leader of the group (Brooks, 2000; Williamson, 2005).

For Siddha Yoga Practice, lineage is relevant to gaining a legitimate form of authority. Muktananda asserted a claim to his own guru’s lineage (that of Bhagawan Nityananda) and, in naming his own successors prior to his own death, the tradition or lineage of his own group, in a Weberian sense, became the ground for legitimate authority, thus reducing or eliminating the purely personal characteristic of the leader (Weber, 1968, p.54). This institutionalising of the personal charismatic authority includes attention to the material interests of the devotees and the creation of administrative positions to 59 continue the charismatic relationship through an organisation. For Weber (1968, p.55), ‘these interests generally become conspicuously evident with the disappearance of the personal charismatic leader and with the problem with succession, which invariably arises’. Not long after the death of ISKCON’s founder and leader Prabhupada in 1977, there were growing numbers of factions, defections and finally schism (Rochford, 1989, p.165). In relation to succession Melton (1991 p.10) asserts, ‘the more preparation is made for a smooth transition, the more likely an orderly succession is to occur’. Muktananda did attempt orderly preparations for the continuation of his lineage and for a time it was smooth; however, competing interests of followers and co-successors eventually led to conflict and schism. ‘Among scholars, while little has been written on the succession question, the strongly held opinion remains that the death of a leader is a crisis event of major proportions for a new religion’ (Melton, 1993, p.106). Melton also notes that the reason the many groups make it through the crisis of succession is the routinisation of charismatic authority, which usually happens within the lifetime of the leader and, therefore, focus has already shifted to some extent from the leader to the newly formed institution (Melton, 1993, p.107). Since Muktananda’s death, the possibility of continuing his lineage of Siddha Yoga Practice through various organisations or movements has been shown to have taken place. The following is a brief overview of Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga and their respective claims to Swami Muktananda’s spiritual lineage.

Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga After leaving Siddha Yoga Nityananda established his own ashrams and centres around the world (Beit-Hallahmi, 1993; Melton, 1993). In 1987 he established his organisation Shanti Mandir and in 1995, at the age of 32, was installed as the youngest ever Mahamandaleshwar in the Indian Hindu tradition of Adi Acharya (Shanti Mandir, 2005). Shanti Mandir has three ashrams, two in India and one in America; the group also has some small household centres around the world. Recently, Nityananda undertook a world tour he titled ‘In the Footsteps of Bliss’ – that is, following in the footsteps of his guru Muktananda, and celebrating 100 years since Muktananda’s birth. While its main focus was Muktananda, who was visible on most of the promotional material, the tour appeared to place Nityananda solidly within the tradition of Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga, thereby re-enforcing his position as co-successor to that tradition. These public claims to succession did not appear to create the kind of

60 hostilities from Siddha Yoga that were seen in the past, and reported by Harris (1994) in The New Yorker. This may be due to the fact that 22 years have since passed, and the changing nature and affiliation to Gurumayi’s Siddha Yoga.

Nityananda was not the only follower of Siddha Yoga to be challenged by the death of Muktananda and the subsequent events over leadership. Swami Shankarananda, one of the senior swamis who appeared to have some support of the devotees in the Melbourne Siddha Yoga ashram, decided he too would continue the Muktananda lineage, eventually establishing the Shiva Yoga ashram in Melbourne, Australia.

Swami Shankarananda was known as a charismatic teacher in Siddha Yoga and at the Siddha Yoga ashram in Melbourne where, as the swami in residence in the early 1980s, he gathered around him a popular support base. Shankarananda’s popularity during his Melbourne residency conceivably constituted another threat to succession in the movement. Shankarananda was sympathetic to Nityananda and left Siddha Yoga at roughly the same time. In 1996 Shankarananda opened a permanent ashram in Mt Eliza, Melbourne (expanded to a second property in 2007). There is also a centre in Adelaide with a resident Swami. Shankarananda has a few teaching Swamis and some lay teachers. The Mt Eliza ashram operates as a residential centre for mostly new devotees, as well as a minority of ex-Siddha Yoga devotees. This is considerably different from those who now follow Nityananda, especially in Australia, who are mostly ex-Siddha Yoga devotees.

Swami Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga broadly follow the teachings and rituals developed during Muktananda’s leadership. Bainbridge (2007, p.208) has noted that ‘schismatic movements tend to adhere to existing traditions, so their capacity to innovate is limited’. Like Muktananda, they honour their own guru and promote the guru-disciple relationship as one of the main practices of Siddha Yoga. Through their example of devotion to their guru they appear to exhibit the behaviour that is required from their own devotees. This devotion also includes the concept of ‘seva’ or selfless service to the guru. Because seva is considered a spiritual practice, even taking part in doing the ashram dishes is elevated from a menial task to a service to the guru. Both Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga, like many other groups, now

61 promote themselves via the Internet. They offer downloads of music, photographs, videos, meditation programmes and up and coming events.

While both Nityananda and Shankarananda follow closely the practical and practice elements of Swami Muktananda’s original movement, these teachers have also developed their own styles. During Shankarananda’s early life he had been a university lecturer and a chess master (Beck, 2000, p.8). Nityananda spent much of his time in Siddha Yoga as a musician. As an accomplished tabla (traditional drums) player, Nityananda often led group chants. Today Nityananda regularly leads the chanting with his tablas and has other accomplished musicians travelling with him. Although their own styles in teaching give a different flavour and focus to their movements, what Nityananda and Shankarananda have in common is that they tell stories of their time with their guru and how important that relationship was to them.

Siddha Yoga Practice is for the most part a guru-disciple tradition, within which, the most important aspect of the spiritual practice is a personal relationship with a living guru. The followers of this tradition are part of a movement that worships a living deity from a tradition of living deities. It does therefore seem important for these movements to firmly connect with the source of their own tradition which, for Siddha Yoga Practice, is situated in the village of Ganeshpuri, India. The following section highlights Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga claim to the lineage of Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice by their visiting the sources of the tradition in the village of Ganeshpuri.

Visiting the Source: Authenticity and Lineage In attempting to affirm lineage to Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice, Nityananda and Shankarananda made pilgrimages to the temple of Muktananda’s guru, Bhagawan Nityananda, in the village of Ganeshpuri, India, a few kilometres from Muktanada’s original ashram, Gurudev Siddha Peeth. Since Muktananda’s ashram is now Gurumayi’s ashram it has in recent times been closed off to all but invited devotees, acting more as a retreat than a traditional Indian ashram. In the past backpackers were allowed to stay, also many Indians visited on Sundays. Now, casual visitors to Gurumayi’s ashram are allowed to visit only the Bhagawan Nityananda temple at the front of the ashram and the adjoining ‘mahasamadhi’ shrine of Muktananda within

62 scheduled hours. The rest of the ashram is closed to the public. Perhaps because of these restrictions of access to Muktananda’s original ashram, Indian and a growing number of Western visitors are drawn to the village of Ganeshpuri and to the ‘mahasamadhi’ shrine of Bhagawan Nityananda where access is permitted.

Recently, both Nityananda and Shankarananda have taken members of their respective groups to visit the village of Ganeshpuri and the temple of Bhagawan Nityananda. In many ways this signifies a pilgrimage to the source of the tradition of Siddha Yoga Practice. In bypassing access restrictions to Muktananda’s original ashram, where both Nityananda and Shankarananda spent many years, they attempt to affirm a connection with authenticity - that is, to the source of their own guru’s tradition, for themselves and their followers. There is a clear sign of devotion presented by the pilgrimage to the Bhagawan Nityananda temple. For those who are part of a Siddha Yoga Practice it does seem that lineage and tradition are important in regard to acknowledgement of a legitimate guru or movement.

Returning to the source of the tradition may represent reclamation of the institutionalised charismatic authority of their guru’s tradition. This is a tradition that may not solely belong to Gurumayi, but also to others who were devotees of Swami Muktananda and wish to take up the banner. ‘Many new religious bodies are created by schisms’ (Stark & Bainbridge, 1979, p.117). Muktananda was not the only devotee of Bhagawan Nityananda to become a guru and schisms within this relatively young lineage are not new. There are others who uphold the same tradition of devotion to Bhagawan Nityananda separate from Muktananda’s and who have their own devotees (Kodikal & Kodikal, 2005). Most of these, with the exception of Chetananda’s Nityananda Institute in upstate New York, are in India.

There are also continuing links between Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga which extend from their prior affiliation with Siddha Yoga and Swami Muktananda. Most recently, these connections have been shown through Nityananda’s 2007-08 world tour; for instance, in Shankaranda’s group Shiva Yoga hosting Nityananda and his followers in Melbourne for some of the time of his visit to that city. All the movements discussed in this chapter are now firmly established in the tradition of Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice. It has been 22 years since the

63 schisms in Siddha Yoga occurred. Because of movements like Gurumayi’s Siddha Yoga, Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga, Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice continues to grow, although now through a variety of organisations.

The final section of this chapter critically discusses the empirical research on Siddha Yoga Practice. This research only includes literature on Siddha Yoga, given that no research exists preceding the present study on either Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir or Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga.

Studies on Siddha Yoga Practice In reference to empirical studies on Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia, McIlwain’s (1990) study of five New Religious Movements was the only one found to include members from this group. McIlwain (1990) focused on predispositions around lifestyle and personality of individuals who joined particular groups. Her approach was also influenced by Lofland and Stark’s (1965) ‘world saver model’. Using psychological scales, McIlwain (1990) determined that those who were attracted to Eastern perspectives had a profile of being unconventional and impulsive. This is an interesting finding considering Eastern perspectives possibly do represent an exotic and unusual alternative to the mainstream religious orientations in Australia. Thus, it seems plausible that different groups would attract different types of people. As Barker (1984, p.244) has found with her study of the Unification Church, it is unlikely that a person who did not believe in God or the Christian bible would be attracted to the Unification Church (a Christian-based group).

Devotees of Siddha Yoga or those closely associated with the group have undertaken most of the empirical research on Siddha Yoga Practice (Connell, 1995; Conser, 1984; Ippolito, 1996; Martin, 1993; Wilcox, 1984; Yeo, 1987). This is possibly because of the difficulty in gaining access to groups and devotees who may be suspicious of outsiders looking in. During my communications with Siddha Yoga it became apparent that, within the group, there was a view that outsiders could not properly understand or interpret Siddha Yoga Practice. The limited amount of research on Siddha Yoga, which to date appears to include only six empirical studies, is spread over a 23-year period. The studies are almost exclusively American, with one English study (Yeo, 1987) and McIlwain’s (1990) Australian study which included some Siddha Yoga devotees.

64

Reflecting on his English study, Yeo (1987) noted there is a lot of internal diversity within the Siddha Yoga movement between countries and even centres. Although the movement may appear to be uniform, each ashram or centre has its own flavour. Martin (1993) found that although the participants adhered to certain Hindu-based belief systems, in the US they appeared to take on an American flavour. However, what does appear to be uniform across localised boundaries is the importance of the devotees’ relationship with the guru. The guru-disciple relationship has been identified as possibly the most central theme in Siddha Yoga (Conser, 1984; Ippolito, 1996; Martin, 1993; Thursby, 1995; Wilcox, 1984; Williamson, 2005). This may be also true for the schisms of Siddha Yoga and, therefore, understanding the guru-disciple relationship in Siddha Yoga Practice is central to understanding the charismatic foundations of the movement.

The master’s felt presence rather than any particular technique is the key to the Siddha meditation that Swami Muktananda brought to the West. Siddha Yoga affirms a “charismatic” rather than a “technical” approach to meditation (Thursby, 1995, p.206).

The guru-disciple relationship, acknowledged by Ippolito (1996) and Conser (1984) as being a personal relationship, calls for in-depth interviewing of the personal experiences of devotees, which neither of these researchers could attempt in their design.

Conser (1984) and Wilcox (1984) present the most comprehensive qualitative explorations of the early movement of Siddha Yoga. Their knowledge of the spiritual practices and mystical experiences of their participants - because of their own affiliation with Siddha Yoga - is helpful; however, their studies also contain unexplained jargon and non-critical acceptance of the group’s perspective. Wilcox’s (1984) and Conser’s (1984) studies offer insights and observations of a practising member. These studies are theological explorations of the movement and spiritual practices rather than critical ethnographies and, from a theological perspective, are valuable studies. In 1994 the journalist Liz Harris (1994) wrote a critical exposé on the group, which appeared to make it difficult for other outside researchers such as Ippolito (1996) to gain access to Siddha Yoga once it was published. Ippolito (1996), who was not a member of the group, attempted to base her research on participant observation and semi-structured

65 interviewing; however, following the publication of Harris’s (1994) The New Yorker article, she could not find a single devotee willing to speak with her. Ippolito (1996) finally explored Siddha Yoga through both the movement’s own literature and the literature that had brought to light controversies surrounding the movement.

Siddha Yoga eventually published their own history and theology of the movement with the help of devotees who were established religious scholars (Brooks, 2000). However, Caldwell (2001, p. 29) was critical of Siddha Yoga’s own rendition of history in that it omitted the ill-treatment of Nityananda, the deposed co-successor of Siddha Yoga, which had already been revealed to devotees in 1986 (Chidvalasananda). Caldwell (2001) also notes the omission of the alleged sexual misconduct of Muktananda, which Caldwell herself explored in her writings in relation to Kula Tantra. Williams (2005), also a religious scholar and devotee, wrote a piece on the changing movement which, while an informative portrayal of the recent changes in the movement, contained some of the same omissions as Brooks (2000) and also appeared as uncritically aligned with the group’s perspective as Conser (1984) and Wilcox (1984).

This section of the chapter highlights that, not only has little empirical work been carried out on Siddha Yoga, there has been no significant exploration of its Australian followers’ experience or the schisms of Siddha Yoga, Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga which are now prominent in Australia. This means that until now there has been no study in Australia dedicated to followers of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice.

Conclusion This chapter has introduced and critically discussed Siddha Yoga Practice and highlighted important issues to consider for the present study of involvement in an NRM. Siddha Yoga Practice presents an exotic movement which exists within and yet stands apart from the culture of the Christian West from where it has attracted followers. Like other NRMs, Siddha Yoga Practice presents an alternative religious or spiritual practice that appears attractive to some, and gaining an understanding of these attractions is important to developing knowledge of initial contact and sustained involvement in an NRM.

66 The attraction to a guru and what he/she represents to the adherents may certainly be useful in informing an understanding of initial involvement and affiliation to the movement. The charismatic aspects of leadership are also important for exploring the evolution of a movement, the movement after the death of its original guru and its repercussions on future leadership, the movement, schisms and the future of the particular spiritual practice.

Siddha Yoga Practice for the present study allows an exploration of many of the issues important to cult/NRM involvement including adherents’ initial attractions, affiliation and what may be involved for individuals in moving away from such a movement. Also, because Siddha Yoga is a relatively new movement with a recent history, it has been possible to gain first-hand accounts of its development of the practice and organisation, especially in Australia.

One of the goals of the present study was to explore the development of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice. Although Siddha Yoga has written its own, albeit contested history, there is little research on the growth of the movement, especially in Australia, specifically from the individuals who were involved. It is important to build on the localised understanding of the movement and also the schisms that have now grown out of the original movement. The perspectives of those who were present in the early years of the group give a unique and important picture of a developing movement.

Before moving on in the next chapter to the methodology that has informed the present study, it is worthwhile to briefly reiterate the gaps in knowledge presented in the conclusion of Chapter 3.

First, the dependence on notions of brainwashing/mind-control models of affiliation by helping professionals and so called anti-cult groups continues, despite the growing body of literature (largely from the sociology of religion) that challenges this interpretation. Further work is needed to ascertain what the sociology of religion offers to the understanding of NRMs and why this has had little influence on helping professionals. Second, Australia has a growing although limited amount of empirical research on NRMs. Australian society appears tolerant of NRMs, yet knows relatively little of what it is tolerating. Finally, as the discipline of social work internationally is currently

67 showing an interest in introducing a spiritual and religious focus to social work knowledge, education and practice, this present study attempts to contribute to this growing perspective by developing knowledge of NRM involvement.

In addition to the gaps in knowledge highlighted by the literature in chapters 2 and 3, the present chapter has acknowledged the limited research conducted on Siddha Yoga Practice internationally. Furthermore, the present study represents the first empirical research dedicated to Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia. Therefore, this study will not only add to the growing knowledge of this particular group internationally but add to the growing knowledge of NRMs in Australia.

The following chapter presents the methodology that has informed the present study. It sets out what was explored in relation to cult/NRM involvement and the ways in which the study was conducted.

68 Chapter 5

The Research Process

The research process of the study was, on the whole, a very personal experience that held elements of a journey both personal and professional. The metaphor of a journey appears common amongst researchers’ descriptions of their own research processes (Day, 2002; Denzin & Lincoln, 2003a; Charmaz, 2006). Therefore the discussion throughout this chapter, as it is in the majority of the thesis, is mostly presented in the first person. The reason for this is that I did not wish to artificially remove myself from these important issues nor the application of the research design to the topic of cult/NRM involvement. Acknowledging my own place within the study as a researcher and ex-member is consistent with the reflexivity present in the research process of this study (Charmaz, 2006; Denzin & Lincoln, 1994, 2003; Ezzy, 2002; Fook, 1996; Napier & Fook, 2000; Silverman, 2006). As Denzin and Lincoln (2003a, p. 283) also recognise, the personal experiences, beliefs, education and other factors which have contributed to my own social identity/identities, have also helped to shape this study and are hopefully made explicit through a reflective approach.

Included in this chapter are overviews of the methods involved in undertaking the study and the analysis of materials collected. The study was a qualitative exploration of NRM involvement and was informed by ethnographic fieldwork, grounded theory and phenomenology. Each of these approaches influenced different aspects of the research process and are discussed in this chapter. The epistemological assumptions of this study are informed by constuctionism. Constuctionism, as opposed to a positivist or objective approach to knowledge or meaning, considers meaning as not inherent but, rather, derived from interactions in the world (Crotty, 1998, p.9). As well as presenting the theoretical features and practical methods included in the design of the study, there is discussion of some of my own challenges in regard to returning to Siddha Yoga Practice as a researcher and ex-member. Some of these challenges only became evident when entering the field - that is, when applying the design to a real-world situation.

69 The chapter first presents the study’s significance, aims and objectives followed by the research questions. Then there is an overview of qualitative methods which includes a section on grounded theory, ethnography and phenomenology and how these perspectives informed the study. Next is a section outlining how access to the area of study was negotiated, followed by the scope of the study and the sample; this includes sections on the participants, and the participants’ specific affiliations at the time of the interviews. The materials collected for the study are then outlined; these include the interviews, participant observations and field notes. The subsequent sections are those that discuss some of my own challenges about returning to Siddha Yoga Practice as a researcher and ex-member. These sections are titled, ‘Getting sucked In’ and ‘Entering the field’. The qualitative analysis of the materials collected is then overviewed with a section on the computer assisted qualitative analysis followed by a discussion of the ethics of the study. The chapter ends with a short discussion of reciprocation, or offering the participants something in return.

Significance The importance of exploring individuals’ experience of present and past affiliation with an NRM for the discipline of social work relates to the development of knowledge of human behaviour (individual-social) and conceptual tools that may be beneficial to informing group work, casework, counselling, child and family welfare and social work education. Although within social work there is a growing interest in and acknowledgement of religion and spirituality in education and practice (Cnaan & Boddie, 2002; Coholic, 2001; Hodge, 2005; Lindsay, 2002; Sahlein, 2002; Tangenberg, 2005) there is little guidance for practice (Hodge, 2004). Further, the rise of fundamentalism and public debate on religion seems to have reignited interest in the sociology of religion (Sherkat & Ellison, 1999; Willaime, 2004). From the perspective of social work practice, it is paramount to gain knowledge of difference with respect to belief systems (Canda, 2003; Gilligan & Furness, 2006; Holloway, 2007; Northcut, 2000). The present study has important implications for social work practice, research and education. It presents a crucial addition to the existing social work discourse on identity and difference (Fook, 2002). In relation to affiliation to NRMs, it attempts to challenge the major conceptualisation by many helping professionals of conversion in the brainwashing thesis (Anthony, 1999; Barker; 1997), in an endeavour to inform an alternative discourse.

70 The Study’s Aims and Objectives The aim of the research was to gain a fuller understanding of NRM/cultic involvement than has been presented by conceptualisations in terms of a brainwashing thesis, especially by those in the helping professions. The primary objective of this study was therefore to inform the helping professions, which include psychologists, counsellors and my own profession of social work. A secondary objective was to learn about the growth of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia and add to the growing literature on New Religious Movements. Because of the ethnographic nature of the study there was an opportunity to learn more about Siddha Yoga Practice and how it developed in Australia. Through a qualitative framework, this study attempted to understand and build knowledge around the following key points:

1) Why the individuals participating in this study became involved in Siddha Yoga and the attractions of the movement for them. 2) How the involvement may have changed their lives and how these changes were manifested. 3) The impact of the involvement. 4) The process of moving away from Siddha Yoga. 5) The development of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia. 6) Implications for social work and the helping professions. 7) The sociological knowledge of NRMs.

Point 5 is of particular interest considering many of the participants in this study became involved in Siddha Yoga at the beginning of, or in the early years of the group’s growth in Australia. The aims and objectives for this study were informed by the literature in the area of cults/NRMs and the gaps and further important areas of exploration highlighted by this literature.

Presented below are the research questions that have given structure and focus to this study of cult/NRM involvement.

Research Questions Alston and Bowles (2003, p.63) acknowledge that ‘qualitative-based research allows a much looser conceptual understanding of the research question …’ The five questions

71 listed below are the research questions that informed the exploration of cult/NRM involvement. The research questions inform the areas of exploration as defined by the study’s aims and objectives.

1) What are the different pathways and attractions individuals recognise in relation to their initial contact with Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice? 2) Did becoming involved in Siddha Yoga change individuals’ lives and if so how were these changes manifested? 3) The impact or effects of being involved in Siddha Yoga Practice on career, lifestyle, status, and relationships? 4) Why did these individuals move away from Siddha Yoga? What did the experience of moving away entail? How did they experience moving away? 5) How did the Siddha Yoga Practice (Siddha Yoga (SYDA), Shanti Mandir, Shiva Yoga) develop in Australia?

These research questions directly informed this exploration of cult/NRM involvement. The actual interviews and interviewing process are outlined in a following section. First, it is important to highlight the choice of qualitative methods before outlining the research process.

Qualitative Methods The choice of qualitative methods was primarily linked to what I wanted to explore and in a way I regarded would give the richest representation of involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice. Bryman (1999) acknowledges that qualitative methods give the researcher a greater possibility of exposure to social processes. The strength of a qualitative method is that it allows the presentation of a “rich” or “thick” description of a social setting (Bryman, 1999; Geertz, 1960; Lofland, 1971; Silverman, 2006). This close-up view of lived experience in a real-world context has the potential to present an accurate picture of the patterns and happenings of a social setting (Lofland, 1971; Glaser & Strauss, 1967). I wanted to meet and discuss Siddha Yoga Practice with participants in situ, which turned out to be in their homes, at Siddha Yoga Practice centres, and in the general course of their lives. An acknowledgement and discussion of context is important for a qualitative approach, and an understanding of what came before and after the phenomena being studied can help to gain an understanding of the

72 participants’ horizon of meaning and the settings that may have helped to produce meaning (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Ezzy, 2002; Neuman, 2005). Babbie (2001, p.298) notes that qualitative methods are helpful when exploring the depth of an individual’s experience and ‘the chief strength of this method lies in the depth of understanding it permits’. Considering the richness of experience I had planned to explore around the participants’ experience of Siddha Yoga Practice, a qualitative design seemed to have advantages over a quantitative, bearing in mind the limited sample size. Qualitative research justifiably sacrifices a large sample size for in-depth understanding (Lofland, 1971; Silverman, 2006). As Bryman (1999, p.44) notes, the choice of methodological approach should be guided by the research problem. A qualitative approach seemed the best choice to guide the design of the study because ‘the possibility for understanding latent, underlying, or non obvious issues is strong’ (Miles & Huberman, 1994, p.10).

My overall epistemological stance in this study of NRM involvement is that of constructionism. From this perspective, meaningful reality and truth are regarded as constructed by individuals through their interactions with the world, not as an objective reality already inherent in situations and objects (Crotty, 1998; Padgett, 1998). Here, individuals’ experiences and meaning-making systems are relative to their encounters and context (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Fook, 2002). The present study considers to be important the individuals’ meaning making in their own world of experience and has not attempted to measure this up against an ideal of objective reality. The study of NRMs, which explores various interpretations of reality and truth, may be more usefully understood from the perspective of contructionism as it helps to develop an understanding of how individuals and groups make sense of their own world and experience in it.

The use of qualitative methods was also guided by other studies of NRMs which had incorporated ethnographic or grounded approaches in their design (Balch, 1978; Barker, 1984; Blackmon, 2003; Curtis, 1991; Hayden, 1991; Festinger, 1956; Glaser & Strauss, 1967; Ketola, 2002; Lofland, 1966; Rochford, 1989; Strauss, 1979; Whyte, [1943] 1973). A grounded approach emphasises a ‘close up’ observation of the natural world (Glaser & Strauss, 1967; Strauss & Corbin, 1998). Grounded theory has of course been developed over time and offers a sophisticated approach to qualitative studies (Ezzy, 2002; Miles & Huberman, 1994; Silverman, 2006; Strauss, 1987; Strauss & Corbin,

73 1998). It also tends to be ethnographic, as it is generally concerned with entering a particular social setting and discovering first-hand what individuals in the particular setting do and think (Strauss & Corbin, 1998, p.11). The following sections introduce the grounded and ethnographic approaches and the aspects of these approaches that are important to this study. Denzin and Lincoln (2003b, p.5) acknowledge the benefit of using mixed and interconnected interpretive practices in an attempt to further the knowledge of a qualitative study.

A Grounded Approach Grounded theory can be understood as discovering theory through a detailed method of comparative analysis (Ezzy, 2002; Glaser & Strauss, 1967; Neuman, 2005). From the comparative analysis of the materials collected conceptual categories or concepts are generated. Although these may not be regarded as beyond doubt the concepts are relevant abstractions of what had been collected and understood in regard to the area of study (Glaser & Strauss, 1979, p.23). Because grounded theory is theory derived from the data, examples from the data can be shown to highlight the developing theory. Concepts and hypotheses emerging from the data are considered in relation to the data throughout the life of the study; in this way, theory building can be considered a process (Glaser & Strauss, 1979; Strauss, 1987; Strauss & Corbin, 1998). Perhaps the most important implication of a grounded approach is that theories developed from this method are grounded in the substantive area of study. Although this study is not strictly a grounded theory study, it has been informed by strategies from grounded theory. Glaser and Strauss (1979) and Charmaz (2006) have argued that researchers can be flexible with their use of strategies from grounded theory. For the present study, grounded theory was important in informing the collection and analysis of the materials. More specifically, it was influenced by grounded theory’s use of theoretical sampling and coding techniques. In a grounded approach, collecting material and analysing data are closely related activities (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Bryman, 2004; Glaser & Strauss, 1967; Miles & Huberman, 1994).

Theoretical sampling is the process of data collection for generating theory whereby the analyst jointly collects, codes, and analyses his [sic] data and decides what data to collect next and where to find them, in order to develop his theory as it emerges (Glaser & Strauss, 1979, p.45).

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Although grounded theory could be used as a stand-alone method, grounded theory appears to have influenced other qualitative approaches to sampling, coding, analytic memos and the approach of early analysis of the materials collected to guide the research process (Ezzy, 2002; Neuman, 2005; Silverman, 2006). Strauss (1987, pp7-8) highlights that the methods presented in grounded theory are not fixed rules for turning data into theory but a guide that could help researchers towards that goal. For the present study, grounded theory has been a useful guide or approach to the collection of materials and analysis. This will be demonstrated in following sections on interviewing and the analysis of materials collected. In reference to building theory, one goal for qualitative research is to attempt to further the knowledge of a particular phenomenon; this may be to further an existing theory or develop new understandings (Ezzy, 2002, p.5). This study acknowledges the importance of prior literature and the use of grounded theory to informing the process of induction and deduction in theory building. Much of the development of knowledge in the area of NRMs was influenced by ethnography (Balch, 1978; Barker, 1984; Lofland, 1966; Rochford, 1989; Strauss, 1979; Zablocki, 2001); therefore, the following section presents this approach and what has been valuable for the present study.

Ethnographic Approach Ethnography, sometimes referred to as field research or participant observation, is a research strategy for studying - usually groups - in particular social settings (Bryman, 2004; Silverman, 2006). Early anthropological studies consisted of ethnographic accounts of indigenous or non-Western peoples; however, these were often written at some distance from the field and criticised for being written on the ‘verandas of the colonialists’ (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003a; Ezzy, 2002). Hammersley (1992, p.16) has referred to these studies as ‘arm chair reflections’. Malinowski was one of the first researchers to bring anthropology “off the veranda” by living with and experiencing the daily life of his subjects (Nash, 1975; Wesch, 2007). Notably, through the influence of the Chicago School, field research became popular within western urban settings and fundamental to qualitative research (Ezzy, 2002; Hobbs & Wright, 2006; Silverman, 2006). A good example of these studies are Whyte’s ([1943] 1973) Street Corner Society, Goffman’s ([1961] 1987) Asylums and Becker’s ([1963] 1973) Outsiders. For the present research, Lofland’s (1966) Doomsday Cult is an important ethnography on

75 conversion. Ethnography has been a useful research method for studies with groups sociologically labelled as deviant and in its development of theory on religious conversion. It has thus been a valuable perspective in regards to the method and theory development of the present study of NRM affiliation.

Commonly ethnography involves an immersion in a social setting entailing: regular observations of behaviour; listening and engaging in conversations; interviewing informants; collecting documents; gaining an understanding of the group’s culture; and eventually writing up a detailed account (Bryman, 2004; Silverman, 2006). Just as grounded theory influences other qualitative methods, so too does ethnography (Denzin & Lincoln, 1994, 2003b; Silverman, 2006). Denzin and Lincoln (2003b, p.10) acknowledge that qualitative research does not have its own set of distinctive methods but has drawn upon various epistemologies and practices. Thus, they argue that no approach to qualitative research holds privilege over another (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003b, p.10).

The specific methods and knowledge from ethnography that have informed the present qualitative study concern participant observation, field notes, interviewing, attempting an understanding of the group’s culture, and the knowledge from studies of religious conversion. I highlight that this study is informed by specific methods and knowledge from ethnography because I do not consider the study to be a thorough ethnography of either of the two movements that I observed. This is because the main use of the participant observation in these movements was to situate myself within the communities where I could network and recruit participants for the study. Participation observation was not the central method of data collection: the main focus of the study was to undertake semi-structured interviews. Methods and knowledge from ethnography were valuable towards achieving this goal, developing an understanding of the two movements and contextualising the participants’ experience. Although this study has built up an understanding of the development of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia from the perspective of the participants, further intensive participant observations would be needed to present a fuller ethnographic account of the Siddha Yoga schisms, Shiva Yoga and Shanti Mandir. With reference to these movements, this study should only be considered an explorative ethnography, although

76 a valuable one considering this is the first study to conduct participant observations of these movements.

Because this study was mostly about individuals’ experiences, a phenomenological approach was also an important aspect of the research and its particular application is discussed in the next section, including an example from the field.

Phenomenological Approach To help illuminate the experience of individuals involved in this study, aspects of the phenomenological approach also informed the methodology. It was the phenomenologist Husserl who brought to the attention of researchers the impossibility of dismissing our own beliefs or bias (Moran, 2003; Stuart & Mickunas, 1990). He argued we could nonetheless suspend them for a time to allow access into the world of the other (Moran, 2003, p.11). This was particularly important for me considering my worldview as an ex-member of Siddha Yoga was potentially different to that of many of the participants who were still involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice at the time of the interviews. Not that my worldview was consistent with all ex-members but that a phenomenological attitude ‘brackets’ my views or what may be ‘the actuality of the transcendent world’ of others (Purcell, 2006, p.14). Devenish (2002, p.10), in his phenomenological study of religious experience, states that the phenomenological approach is to see anew, as if for the first time. This was at times a challenge, but was helped by the fact that the groups I was observing and participating in were schisms of Siddha Yoga. Throughout my interactions during this study, a phenomenological approach allowed me to consider relevant the participants’ own meaning systems and experiences without constant reference to my own or opposing views. Willis (2004, p.2) asserts, ‘all knowing is at one level subjective since it is always related to, and constructed by, the person engaged in knowing’. Although it may be impossible to shut down the critical faculty, it was not difficult to maintain a sense of wonder and openness to others’ subjective experience. A phenomenological attitude does not involve denying opposing views or bias but acknowledging these aspects of human experience and attempting to suspend them for a time to allow the other’s meaning to arise (Barnes, 2001; Moran, 2003; Stewart & Mickunas, 1990). ‘In traditional terms it is an invitation to engage in the procedure of putting to one side one’s own personal beliefs and assumptions in order to see more clearly what others say about

77 themselves’(Davies, 2000, p.15). To focus on others’ experience and meaning is to emphasise the value of different voices (Willis, 2004, p.4).

While attempting to suspend or bracket rather than dismiss my own beliefs and bias in relation to my fieldwork, surprise and curiosity became important modes of relating. Surprise and curiosity seemed positive alternatives to disbelief, challenge or even acceptance during field interactions, interviewing and participation in ritual. Fetterman (1991, p.88) asserts ‘curiosity is one of the most important attributes of a successful fieldworker’. However, it was not until my last day of fieldwork that I noticed the benefit of this stance. On my final visit to Shanti Mandir I found myself more relaxed than usual, and in a way glad to be finished, and indeed felt I was finished. Over the previous month I had made the centre leaders aware that this particular visit would be my last. On my way into the centre I met with one of the regulars. We said hello to each other and then she told me that she would be going to England to visit Amma (the ‘Hugging Guru’) in two weeks’ time. It seemed curious to me that she should be going to England when surely India would be much more interesting. I supposed she might have had her reasons, possibly a friend or relative to visit, so I inquired. She looked at me directly, with a happy expression, and said, ‘Well that was what the meditation said, go to England to see Amma’. That evening, unlike other times at the centre - because my fieldwork was practically finished - I had forgotten the norms of the group. My beliefs and bias were no longer suspended and I wondered why she had based her decision on a meditation. I saw some worry on her face, and with a thud - and remembering my role as researcher - my expression changed from one of bemusement to, once again, one of surprise and curiosity, and said, ‘Wow, that’s great’. She also lost her look of worry and continued excitedly to tell me that she wanted to go to Spain, but England is what came up in the meditation. Although I did not agree with her, my surprise made better sense in the context of Shanti Mandir and elicited a friendly interaction and better chance at understanding her meaning-making system. Glesne and Peshkin (1992, p.59) note that, like actors, participant observers manage their behaviours not only to shape the context but also to optimise continued access and data collection.

The following sections outline what was involved in undertaking this present study - the research methods.

78 The Research Methods

Included in this section are: the scope of the study; gaining access to Siddha Yoga Practice participants and organisations; who was included in the study; and the participants and the participants’ specific affiliations at the time of the interviews. After introducing the above aspects to the study, there is a discussion of the collection and analysis of materials, followed by some ethical considerations of the study.

The Scope of the Study This study involved former members of Siddha Yoga, current members of Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga, Shanti Mandir centres in Sydney and Melbourne and the Shiva Yoga ashram in Melbourne. There were 32 participants in total; their particular affiliation and description are outlined in the following section. As this study attempted to stay close to the respondents’ experiences, it is not a critique of one particular organisation; but rather an exploration of the individuals’ experience of Siddha Yoga Practice which now includes varied groups including Siddha Yoga, Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga. The important link with all the participants in this study is that their first contact with a Siddha Yoga Practice was with Swami Muktananda or with the original movement begun by Swami Muktananda, Siddha Yoga (SYDA).

Gaining Access As with other studies, difficulties were encountered in my attempts to gain access to potential participants and organisations for this study. For Patton (2002, p. 310) the frustration experienced by the fieldworker is analogous to Franz Kafka’s protagonist in the novel The Castle and his trials in gaining entrance to the mysterious castle. But, although there were some initial Kafkaesque frustrations, the metaphor of a journey is more accurate in describing the eventual process of this study. An original aim of the study was to interview current members as well as ex-members of Siddha Yoga, with an interest in long-term membership. Attempting to gain access to current members of Siddha Yoga was abandoned after consultation with Siddha Yoga Australia and America. Although Siddha Yoga wished me well with my research its policy is not to support graduate research (final email correspondence attached, Appendix 2). There were, therefore, no participants recruited through Siddha Yoga ashrams or centres, nor were there any observations undertaken at their centres or ashrams.

79 I had assumed that, because I was once involved with Siddha Yoga, that they would welcome me and offer at least some access to the community. This reflected my limited understanding of the dynamics of the notion of insider-outsider or devotee-apostate when it comes to some cults/NRMs. Although the study could not proceed as a study solely of involvement in Siddha Yoga (which was an initial intention), it developed into a much broader study of Siddha Yoga Practice once I had the opportunity to meet with Swami Nityananda of Shanti Mandir. While attempting to redefine my study, a friend called to tell me that Swami Nityananda was briefly visiting Australia and suggested I ask permission for his group, Shanti Mandir, to take part in the study. I rang the centre where Swami Nityananda was staying and, as it turned out, knew someone with whom he was staying. From my knowledge of other field studies (Lofland, 1966; Whyte, [1943] 1973) I was aware that I might need a sponsor to help me gain access and this old friend, from my prior involvement with Siddha Yoga, became just that.

The use of a sponsor has been a valuable way for researchers to gain access to various settings (Bryman, 2004; Lofland, 1966, 1971; Whyte, [1943] 1973). In Whyte’s ([1943] 1973) study of street corner society, it was his meeting with Doc that eventually allowed him into the world of the residents of the Italian-America inner-city slum. For Lofland (1966) it was Miss Lee who enthusiastically allowed him permission to participate and observe the fledgling Unification Church. The significant attribute of both Whyte’s and Lofland’s sponsors was that they both had elevated positions within their particular settings. Gaining support from a recognised figure in the setting lends credibility to the study and amongst the other members in that setting (Lofland, 1971). Richardson (1991, p. 62) notes that, if approval can be gained by the leader, this may lead to high participation in the study by the group members.

For my study, it was one of the centre leaders who had remembered me from my own time in Siddha Yoga. Lofland (1971, p.95) has also highlighted the use of pre-existing friendships to gain entrance to a setting. As far as this person was concerned, I was a ‘good bloke’ and if I wanted any help, and he was able to, he would help me. This person was also the one who introduced me to Swami Nityananda, and it was most likely on this person’s recommendation that Swami Nityananda allowed me access to the group – although it may equally have been possible that Swami Nityananda had made up his own mind about me. Even so, between the good will of my sponsor and the

80 ensuing permission from Swami Nityananda, my presence at the centres and introductions to potential participants was somewhat eased and carried some credibility.

My sponsor in Shanti Mandir, like Lofland’s, was somewhat concerned with my conversion to the group. He did not mind my not taking on the group’s beliefs but he did often question me as to what the experience of my research might have on me. He was more interested in the changes my conducting research might have on me than he was the outcome of my research. It seemed difficult for those who were involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice to consider that I was not also involved. For example, when I told Swami Nityananda that I did not practice Siddha Yoga, he stated: ‘You don’t do yoga, yoga does you’. In Siddha Yoga Practice, once the kundalini is awakened it keeps unfolding in its own time; consequently, my sponsor in Shanti Mandir may have perceived my study as part of the process of my unfolding kundalini. Whether I consciously believed in Siddha Yoga may have been irrelevant to him and the others; what may have been most relevant was that I was there and interested in Siddha Yoga Practice. Researchers of NRMs have noted that some groups interpret the researcher’s presence as that of being sent to the group by god as potential converts (Barker, 1987; Lofland, 1977; Richardson, 1991).

Swami Nityananda’s statement that, ‘You don’t do yoga, yoga does you’ became surprisingly relevant when I came across an article on fieldwork with the heading, ‘You don’t do fieldwork, fieldwork does you’ (Simpson, 2006, p.125). Like a spiritual journey, it seems that fieldwork also runs its own course. After I met Swami Nityananda he introduced me to Swami Shankarananda of Shiva Yoga, a former senior swami of Siddha Yoga. These meetings opened up a whole new world of Siddha Yoga Practice of which I had previously been unaware.

Who was Included in the Study The study used a form of non-probability sampling known as snowball sampling. Snowball sampling is a purposive sampling technique targeted at a particular group of individuals who are helpful for a particular exploration (Atkinson & Flint, 2001; Bryman, 2004). I will discuss later in this section how this form of sampling was appropriate for this particular qualitative study, but will first highlight who was included in the study.

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Included in the sample were ex-members of Siddha Yoga and others who moved away from Siddha Yoga and became members of the schism organisations of Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga. This was done with the permission of these groups who allowed me to network in their communities in order to locate former Siddha Yoga members. Permission was given by the groups’ gurus: Swami Nityananda gave his permission in writing (Appendix 3) and Swami Shankarananda orally during a recorded interview (National Health & Medical Research Council (NHMRC), 2008, p.19).

For the purposes of this study, only participants with at least two years’ experience of Siddha Yoga Practice were considered as potential candidates in an attempt to recruit respondents with substantial understanding and experience. For those who were no longer involved in Siddha Yoga and no longer affiliated with another organised form of Siddha Yoga Practice (Shanti Mandir, Shiva Yoga), only those with at least two years away from the movement were considered as participants; this was done in an attempt to recruit respondents who had gained some distance from the experience and had time to reflect and to possibly develop alternative life trajectories. These parameters were set, firstly, to maximise the chance that the individuals had been highly active participating members and, secondly, so that the study was not focused solely on the ex-members’ close-to-exiting experience. Two or more years after exiting seemed an appropriate time for ex-members to gain distance, reflect on the experience and enter new spheres of experience (Zablocki, 2007). The purpose of pursuing this group of ex-members was to attempt to track the hard-to-reach population of individuals who pass through these types of movements and have no association with anti-cult organisations or cultic abuse counsellors. Attempting to explore past affiliation presented a novel way to track the possible multiple trajectories that individuals may take from their involvement in NRMs. Many researchers acknowledge the transitory nature of affiliation (Barker, 1984; Bromley, 1983; Bruce, 2002; Introvigne & Richardson, 2001; Melton, 1999; Stark & Finke, 2000).

There was also an emphasis in this research to include participants who had experience of the early years of the movement in Australia in order to help build the historical aspect of this study. Considering there are no studies solely focused on Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia, this seemed an important inclusion,

82 especially documenting participants’ own experience of the group’s history. Knowledge of Siddha Yoga, Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga also frames the context of the participants’ experience and highlights the scope of the organised forms of Siddha Yoga Practice which are included in this study.

Although I networked in both Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga, I was most successful in gaining both active members and ex-members through the former group. And, while Swami Shankarananda introduced me to his membership and promoted my project at a satsang, I gained only one participant form Shiva Yoga. Two others from Shiva Yoga who agreed to be interviewed cancelled on the day of their interview, citing other commitments. These interviews were to take place in Melbourne and due to financial and time constraints were difficult to reschedule. Recruiting participants from Shiva Yoga was always going to be more difficult as, compared with Shanti Mandir, this group had a much lower membership of ex-devotees of Siddha Yoga. The membership composition of these two groups was only discovered during the process of the fieldwork. Although no numbers were offered by the two groups, from my own observations, it became apparent that many of the devotees from Shanti Mandir were older devotees of Siddha Yoga who had met Swami Muktananda. The membership of Shiva Yoga was, by contrast, noticeably younger and I only met with a few ex-members of Siddha Yoga. From my own observations and what the groups know about themselves, it seems they are aware of the make-up of their memberships.

Although I had gained permission to network within the Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga communities to access participants, there were also contacts and friends I approached who introduced me to potential participants who were no longer involved in Siddha Yoga Practice and were unknown to me. With the use of snowball sampling in the Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga communities and my own network, I managed to gain a varied sample which eventually covered many friendship networks. Snowball sampling is often used to access hard-to-reach populations (Atkinson & Flint, 2001; Whyte, 1973) and considering I was not locating ex-members through anti-cult organisations, snowball sampling turned out to be a useful albeit slow process. Other studies attempting to interview difficult-to-locate populations, such as drug users, gangs and street prostitutes, have used this snowball technique (Atkinson & Flint, 2001). Snowball

83 sampling also helped to minimise elements of coercion consistent with an ethical commitment to participants’ voluntary involvement in this study (NHMRC, 2008, p.20).

A third party made the initial contact with a potential participant to ask if they would agree to have me contact them. I then followed up contact by phone. During this first contact, I explained the nature of my study, the ethical guidelines and the assurance of anonymity. I then emailed them my details and the Participant Information Statement and Consent Form (Appendix 4) for them to consider. If they decided to participate they would contact me by phone or by email, which was made clear in the introduction letter (Appendix 5) which I sent with the Participant Information Statement and Consent Form. However, because of my initial introduction, some of the participants agreed to the interview during our first telephone conversation. Even so, I sent the introduction letter, Participant Information Statement and Consent Form for them to read prior to the interview date. Working through various third persons to find and contact participants gave me some credibility and the possibility of entering different friendship networks. Therefore, the study is not focused on ‘tight-knit-groups’ but a broader network of ex- Siddha Yoga devotees. Networking amongst members and former members gave a variety of participants.

A further method of recruiting participants was through an ex-Siddha Yoga internet forum called eXSY. This international forum has been operating since May 2004 and has close to 1000 members (eXSY, 2007). eXSY is not an anti-cult group, in the sense that it does not have definitive opinions on NRM/cults, nor does it publish any particular information. It is a forum for ex-Siddha Yoga devotees to discuss all facets of their experience of Siddha Yoga and other related issues. I joined the forum in January 2006 under my real name (many people use pseudonyms) and asked the members if they would consider taking part in my research. I introduced myself with the same introduction letter I used for the other participants and also attached the Participant Information Statement and Consent Form. No one in the forum made a general comment about my enquiry online and only two people responded, eventually becoming participants in this study. Given that most of the active members of the forum are from North America, it was fortunate that these two lived in Australia and were interested in participating. One of these individuals introduced me to another potential participant

84 who then also participated in the study. This method of recruitment was a continuation of networking and the use of snowball sampling.

Because of the limitations presented by the purposive sample, this study does not claim to be representative of all the participants of Siddha Yoga or subsequent schisms, nor all those who are and have affiliated with NRMs. Rather, it seeks to add to the growing knowledge and understanding of Siddha Yoga Practice and New Religious Movements. The sample does offer a variety of individuals recruited through various networks.

My own experience has to be acknowledged as influencing the study and helping me to understand the participants’ experience, the philosophy of Siddha Yoga Practice and the casual ‘insider talk’ of the movement which can contain a mix of popular Western psychology and Hindu concepts. Boeri (2002), Fennimore (2000) and Puttick (1997) all acknowledge that their prior knowledge from previous involvement in their own groups helped with understanding the group culture and dynamics.

The Participants Of the 32 participants 15 were women and 17 were men which reflected the intention to recruit approximately equivalent numbers of men and women. Participants’ ages ranged from 40 to 85, and although there was a reasonably wide range of ages at the time of the interviews, the average age of the participants when they discovered Siddha Yoga was in the mid-twenties (Appendix 6).

Participants’ affiliation with Siddha Yoga ranged between 4 and 22 years. However, those who had moved away from Siddha Yoga to either Shanti Mandir or to Shiva Yoga (eight participants) had 30 years or more affiliation with an organised form of Siddha Yoga Practice.

At the time of initial engagement with Siddha Yoga, 22 of the participants were or had been engaged in higher education. Three more of the participants went on to higher education after their involvement. The high representation of university educated participants reflects finding of other studies on NRM membership (Campbell, 1978; Bader & Demaris, 1996; Barker, 1984).

85 The majority of the participants were raised in Christian faith-based families. Five participants were from Jewish faith-based families, which may appear over- representative in such a small sample, given the overall proportion of Jewish people is 0.447 percent of the Australian population (ABS, 2008).

Participants’ occupations at the time of initial engagement with Siddha Yoga were varied. Occupation areas included: medicine, academia, performing arts, small business, hospitality, welfare work, and office administration. Some of the participants were still in the same or similar professions at the time of the interviews as they had been when fully involved in Siddha Yoga, as presented in Chapter 10.

All of the participants in this study were previously devotees of Siddha Yoga; however, seven are now associated with Shanti Mandir and one with Shiva Yoga. A further nine participants still regard Siddha Yoga’s founder Swami Muktananda as their guru but are not affiliated with any organised form of a Siddha Yoga Practice. The remaining fifteen participants are no longer involved in any form of Siddha Yoga Practice, nor regard Muktananda as their guru. Of these, though, eight do belong to other traditions, while the remaining seven no longer belonged to an organised religious tradition. Thus, the study involves a sample of ex-Siddha Yoga devotees, although it brings with it some variation as to what constitutes an ex-member.

I must note that some friendships between members of the different groups (and even ex-members with no affiliations) continue, as they have a common link with their prior experience of Siddha Yoga. Both the present members of Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga and the ex-members of Siddha Yoga helped to build knowledge of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia presented in this thesis.

The following section outlines the materials collected for the study which included semi-structured interviews, participant observations, field notes and the groups’ own published material.

Materials Collected Materials were collected by way of two methods. The first method of collection was in- depth interviews with the 32 participants, and the second involved participant

86 observations of activities at the Shiva Yoga ashram Melbourne and Shanti Mandir centres in Sydney and Melbourne. The semi-structured in-depth interviews in this study were audio-recorded at a convenient venue of the participant’s choice (usually in their homes).

Participant observation with permission received from Shanti Mandir (Appendix 3) and Shiva Yoga took place at centres in Sydney and Melbourne. Participant observation was chosen as part of the focus on triangulation of methods used in this study to further understand and contextualise participants’ experience (Denzin, 1989; Denzin & Lincoln 2003b; Neumann, 2005; Richardson, 1991; Zablocki, 2001). For instance, by interviewing participants, observing group activities and reviewing the groups’ literature, I could gain a clearer understanding of the practices and beliefs. Denzin (1989, p.236) asserts ‘triangulation or the use of mixed methods, is a plan of action that will raise sociologists above the personal biases that stem from single methodologies’. Denzin (1989, p.236) does recognise that triangulation is only a partial solution to the bias of using a single method; however, it remains one of the best strategies for building theory. Triangulation of methods and information sources has been a common practice in gaining an understanding of NRMs (Richardson, 1991; Zablocki, 2001).

Observations of activities at centres were recorded as field notes, away from the site, to respect the environment and attempt to be unobtrusive in my data collection technique (Glesne & Peshkin, 1992; Kellehear, 1993). A further discussion on participant observations and field notes will be presented in a following section. The interviews and participant observations took place during 2006 and 2007.

The Interviews Qualitative interviewing is the most commonly used method in qualitative research and an important medium for sourcing meaningful explanations of an individual’s life experience (Bryman, 2004; Patton, 1990, 2002). The objective of in-depth semi- structured interviews is a guided conversation which may elicit details that are important to the interviewee and relevant to the social context rather than answer the researcher’s assumptions about the area of enquiry (Bryman, 200; Ezzy, 2002; Lofland, 1971). In this research, the interviewing process involved the telling of the participant’s story, directed to some extent by interview topics and questions, though not excluding

87 issues that were important to the participants. Because of the previous literature and my hunches, there were some general ideas and lines of enquiry, but it was important to hear it from their perspective and be open to their unique experience (Lofland, 1971; Silverman, 2006). This was also in line with my phenomenological approach.

The interviews took place between December 2005 and October 2006 in Sydney, northern and southern NSW, southern Queensland, Melbourne and Adelaide. Most took place in participants’ homes, although three took place in cafés and one in a car. The interviews began casually, and perhaps because I usually had travelled some distance to meet with them, some lunch or snacks had often been prepared. Although the interviews took around one-and-a-half hours, I would usually spend around three hours with the participants, and often a full day when including travel. The first hour was taken up with introductions and a discussion of the study. Often the participants wanted to know something about me and my own experience of Siddha Yoga. For many of the participants, the interview would be one of the rare occasions that they had to tell their story about their experience with Siddha Yoga. After the interviews, I asked the participants how the interview experience was for them, as an informal debriefing session on the interviewing process.

Important elements in a semi-structured interview technique are the use of an interview guide (Appendix 7), probes, and note-taking during the interviews (Lofland, 1971; Patton, 1990; 2002). Lofland (1971, p. 87) also recommends the use of a fact sheet to take note of some individual characteristics of each participant, such as name, age, sex, education, residence, occupation, religion. I asked the participants at the beginning of the interview whether I could write down some of their details, and also whether it was okay to take notes during the interview. I explained that the notes were to remind me of any issues or points they raise in the course of the interview which I might like to return to and further explore, and so not to disturb their train of thought. Lofland (1971, p.89) recommends taking sparse notes during the interviews, even if the interviews are being recorded, as a way of keeping track of points and staying on top on the interviewing process. Interestingly, my note-taking during the interviews would invariably draw more interest than the audio-recording device – and consequently would disturb the flow of the interview. While there would be some initial discussion of the device, it was soon forgotten once turned on, perhaps because of its small size. There may, however,

88 have been something more official about writing notes that seemed to make the participants pause from their narrative. Initially, I kept note-taking to a minimum but eventually abandoned it during interviews as I noticed that each new participant was much more aware of my note-taking than they were of the recorder. Instead, during the interviews I attempted to follow up and probe close to the participant’s comments. However, there was a dilemma in deciding whether to let the participant continue with their narrative and limit interjections or become more active in my guiding of the interview.

The interviews were semi-structured, following an interview guide (Appendix 7) which was based on the research questions outlined earlier in this chapter. Patton (2002, p.343) recommends using an interview guide that highlights the areas or topics to explore during the interview. This also helps to focus the interview and to give some consistency across all interviews (Patton, 2002, p.343). I began interviews with a discussion of how they first discovered Siddha Yoga so that the interviews would have some chronological order. On the few occasions that a participant would begin with their present experience, I would direct them back to the topic of how they became involved with Siddha Yoga. This turned out to be quite an open question and usually involved an interesting build up to eventually discovering Siddha Yoga. By beginning the study so openly, especially the interviews, I was able to take a new topic from one interview and then add the topic to my guide and to the next interview. Glaser and Strauss (1979, p.47) recommend that researchers interested in a grounded approach should be guided by what emerges during the research process; in relation to interviews, a new insight from one interview can be explored in the next. For example, initially I had not had the area of religious experience on my interview guide. This was because very little emphasis was put on religious experience in conversion literature on NRMs, especially in the area of brainwashing.

During my first interview I was surprised when the participant asked, ‘Do you want to hear some of my spiritual experiences?’ In subsequent interviews, I added this to my guide of areas of interest. This was similar with other areas of interest which are presented in this thesis such as prior spiritual experience, seeking behaviour, and prior drug use. If a participant brought up an area of enquiry that I had not considered, I added it to the next interview. This meant that, as the interviews went on, I became

89 more aware and interested in particular areas of enquiry and themes that were emerging from the previous interviews. I decided to find out as much as I could about these particular themes while remaining open to other important issues participants relayed. From the perspective of a grounded approach, it is important to develop a dense saturation of some core categories and their properties so that theory can be developed (Glaser & Strauss, 1979, p.71). Because theoretical rather than random sampling is a key component of grounded theory (Glaser & Strauss, 1979; Strauss, 1987), once some core concepts or categories begin to emerge, it is important to pursue these through the choice of further participants to include in the study, or through questions to be explored in subsequent interviews (Glaser & Strauss, 1979, p.70). After interviewing a number of women, I began to realise their experience was different to that of the men I had interviewed, especially single women with children in regard to caring for their children during their involvement in Siddha Yoga. When I realised I was gaining more access to men than to women, I began to ask participants if they knew any women who might like to be involved in the study. I did this so as to further explore aspects of the female experience discussed by the women I had already interviewed. This also highlights my use of a purposive sample.

In an attempt to gain some honest rapport, I told participants during the interview something of my own experience; though I kept this to a minimum and emphasised that I was interested to hear their perspective. I tended to give something of myself whenever I sensed any embarrassment by participants in what they were revealing to me about themselves. This was an attempt to relay the empathy that I felt with them. Patton (2002, p. 366) recognises that rapport during interviews is established through an empathetic response. I was not there to judge but to listen and share in a mutual understanding (Patton, 1990, p. 317). Participants often related that they hardly ever discussed their experience of Siddha Yoga. This was true of both those who were and were not currently involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice. There was, however, no difficulty in engaging with the participants as they often appeared enthusiastic about my visit and were happy to help me with anything I needed to know. In reference to my own experience of the interviews, I too was filled with excitement and some anticipation at meeting each new person.

90 On many occasions while interviewing, I became aware that my response to what was being said by the participants may have appeared as though I was agreeing with them. Lofland (1971, p.90) notes that, during interviews, expressing either verbally or non- verbally that you have understood the participant can often be misinterpreted as agreement, and is difficult to avoid in the interview process. Because I was interviewing participants who were and were not involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice I found myself appearing to agree with both groups of participants. Lofland (1971, p.90) notes that a successful interview is similar to carrying on a non-confrontational, polite and supportive conversation. With this in mind, I tended to keep my own opinions to a minimum, unless it was necessary to provide some emotional support to the participants. This, however, would cause me to consider how sincere I really was being. Of course, an interview is not a natural conversation, and in my case it was often the meeting of two strangers who got to know each other over a short period of time. Perhaps the most surprising thing for the participants was that I was interested in them and in their experience, and in this respect I was sincere.

I initially considered follow-up interviews of at least one month apart; however, with the participants living in different and distant areas of the east coast of Australia, and the spiralling financial costs of my fieldwork, it was only possible to conduct one interview. I did manage to catch up with around half of the participants on different occasions during my participant observations but I did only one full second interview with a participant who had been out of Siddha Yoga for just on two years. The reason I especially wanted to interview this participant was because her experience was relatively recent compared with the other participants who had been out of Siddha Yoga for much longer. I interviewed her six months after her first interview and things in her life had settled down in regard to finding new directions. Her second interview confirmed my belief that interviewing people with distance from their experience may give a more considered and reflective flavour to the interview rather than a more reactive one.

The interviews were transcribed for the purpose of undertaking a grounded analysis, which will be presented in a following section.

91 Participant Observations and Field Notes Participant observation took place from November 2005 to October 2006 at Shanti Mandir centres in Sydney and Melbourne and the Shiva Yoga ashram in Melbourne. Additional observations occurred with Shanti Mandir in June 2007 during the Sydney leg of Nityananda’s world tour. Participant observations were useful in two ways: first, to gain an understanding of the groups that I was observing and, second, as a form of networking to recruit potential participants. Although networking to recruit participants for the study was my priority during this aspect of the fieldwork, being around the members helped to build trust and eventually hook into the members’ extended networks. However, as a former member of Siddha Yoga, participant observation raised some interesting issues from my own perspective and from some of my family members. These issues will be discussed toward the end of the chapter.

The main participant observations took place in Shanti Mandir in Sydney. Throughout 2006 until late October I spent every second Sunday evening attending the group’s satsang. This usually involved arriving at around 6.30 for a 7pm start and leaving at around 10 after sharing food and conversation after the satsang. The satsang itself took up approximately one-and-a-half hours. Further observations during 2006 took place in Melbourne at the Shanti Mandir centre and the Shiva Yoga Ashram. I attended both these venues on four occasions. My trips to Melbourne corresponded with organising and undertaking interviews with participants. Shanti Mandir and Shiva Yoga in Melbourne both had similar satsang schedules to Shanti Mandir in Sydney, and I spent from around 6.30 to 10 pm observing, participating and networking. The final observations were conducted in June 2007, as noted. During this time I attended two satsangs at the Shanti Mandir centre and two outside programmes: one at the Masonic Centre, Haymarket, Sydney, and the final contact with the group at Bronte House, Sydney.

During the study, I kept analytic notes on events, conversations and personal observations. I often wrote up notes at the end of the day or sometimes when I got back to my car. It seemed inappropriate to take notes during observations, especially in relatively closed environments such as these, where activities unrelated to the practices of chanting, meditating or focus on the guru would stand out as unusual. Bryman (1999, p.53) has noted that it is easier for an observer to blend in when not taking notes in

92 public view. Taking notes in the evening or directly after events may have led to the loss of some interesting and useful interactions with participants; even so, this seemed the most opportune time to do this work. I found also that some distance from the experience of the observations or interviews was needed to help me to clarify my thoughts. For example, while interviewing in northern NSW, I stayed in a caravan on a friend’s property. It would be very late by the time I got back from interviews, so I tended to write my notes in the morning. The tranquility of the country was a welcome contrast to the often emotionally intense experience of interviewing and conducive to writing. Writing up notes on interviews and observations helped me to document the context, the emotional content, and my own critical thoughts at the time. This was particularly important considering this study has been informed by a grounded theory approach which advances the importance of beginning the analysis early (Ezzy, 2002; Glaser & Strauss, 1979; Strauss, 1987; Silverman, 2006; Strauss & Corbin, 1998). From this perspective, I could see the evolution of my understanding of the substantive area and that growing understanding informing the evolving study. These analytic notes eventually informed the analysis of the interviews and the general narrative of the study. The groups’ own publications are also noted as informing the study and the next section discusses how I accessed some of this material during the fieldwork.

The Groups’ Own Material During the fieldwork for the study and in particular the undertaking of the interviews, a number of participants offered me the groups’ own publications which they had kept over the years. Wallis (1977) had a similar experience during his research on Scientology. This was a huge gift. I offered to return the materials once I had finished the study to one person who had given me a significant amount; she however no longer wanted the materials. Another individual who also gave me a substantial collection asked me to give it to a library once I finished my study (which I intend to do with both collections). Both these individuals were ex-members of Siddha Yoga, but I was also given some individual items from members of Shanti Mandir who thought they might be useful for this study. These publications spanned from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. The early material was particularly useful for the present study given many of the participants I interviewed were involved in Siddha Yoga at that time. The literature on the philosophy/theology of Siddha Yoga was also helpful in informing the present

93 study. There was no systematic analysis of these materials; they were only used as reference materials.

The following sections are those that express some of my own challenges about returning to Siddha Yoga Practice as a researcher and ex-member. As a social worker, acknowledging my own biography and reflecting on my own experience and interactions is part of being a reflective researcher (Napier & Fook, 2000; Payne, 1998; Schon, 1983).

Personal Challenges of Participant Observations There were particular challenges in conducting this research which relate specifically to me as an ex-member of Siddha Yoga and also with individuals conducting research on NRMs highlighted by Zablocki (2001). The first section Getting ‘Sucked in’ was inspired by a family member who thought I may be ‘sucked in’ to the group; the following section Entering the Field highlights some further challenges I encountered in revisiting Siddha Yoga Practice.

Getting ‘Sucked in’ When I began the present study, my sister-in-law - a researcher and academic - was concerned that, if I attempted participant observation as part of my research design, I might end up re-joining the group, that I might, as she put it, get ‘sucked in’. Getting ‘sucked in’ may also refer to what Lofland (1971) has termed seduction. Lofland (1971, pp.97-99) acknowledges that some researchers who have conducted field work have become members of the group studied, arguing that, for some, this reduces their feeling of marginality, loneliness or alienation in the field. Zablocki (2001, p. 231) lamented that two of his graduate students were attracted to the groups which they were researching and eventually joined the groups.

To frame seduction positively highlights the attractiveness of the belief or social system to some individuals. For me, the social interactions were attractive even if the belief systems no longer were. Getting ‘sucked in’ is one way in which to view affiliation or conversion to an alternative religious perspective (Tobias & Lalich, 1994, p.28). I told my sister-in-law jokingly that I had been inoculated against their particular belief system and I didn’t think that I would be ‘sucked in’ again – if, in fact, I had been ‘sucked in’ in the first instance. Although I seemed to assuage her concerns, I had some 94 concerns of my own. These included the possibility of meeting a Siddha guru and perhaps experiencing any tangible religious or spiritual phenomena in the guru’s presence or indeed during the time I would spend doing participant observations. In my earlier involvement with the group I had a variety of religious experiences, which were at times, in the presence of the guru. Although I considered that I had resolved any ambiguity towards my own affiliation, I had not met with a Siddha Yoga guru or continued the practices since 1985, when I moved away from the movement. I was satisfied that Siddha Yoga no longer played a part in my life, but questions remained: what of the phenomenon of the guru’s presence and that of my personal religious experience?

At the beginning of this study the phenomena of the guru’s presence and religious experience seemed to be personal concerns, but as the research progressed I began to see the significance of these concerns in other individuals and in the area of sociological theories of conversion, especially in reference to charismatic authority figures or prophets extending back to Weber (1968). When I eventually met with the guru of Shanti Mandir, Swami Nityananda, to discuss beginning my research project, I was relieved that I did not feel anything in particular in his presence. He was a very agreeable individual and generously let me undertake participant observations with his group. When I told him that I was once with Siddha Yoga and no longer held any of its beliefs nor did any of its practices, he appeared unconcerned, just happy to help out. This was a major step in beginning the research in two significant ways: firstly, the group’s leader had agreed to allow me access to the group and, second, although my sister-in-law’s concerns were valid, I knew that getting ‘sucked in’ would not be a concern. This, however, did not mean that the experience of entering the field would not hold its own challenges.

Entering the Field In reference to my initial participant observations, especially my first visit to Shiva Yoga, it was difficult to understand my mental and emotional confusion after attending satsang. I felt disorientated in my thinking, and my first inclination was to listen to loud music and, oddly, eat meat (I’m a vegetarian). I seriously wondered how I was going to continue my participation if I was to continually feel disoriented. Zablocki (2001, p.234) asserts,

95

Religious ethnography … is often a highly disorienting activity. Entering into other people’s religions can be damaging to one’s construction of reality. It is hard to think of any analogous occupation that produces the same sort of cognitive and emotional stress.

Of course, I should have expected some emotional upheaval considering Siddha Yoga Practice is largely a charismatic movement and the Shiva Yoga ashram possibly presents, from my own observations, the most complete picture of a Siddha Yoga Practice outside of the original movement. A Shiva Yoga satsang attracts a large following (up to 300), the chanting sessions are dynamic and the atmosphere is highly emotionally charged. The group’s guru, Swami Shankarananda, was in residence during my visits, unlike at the Shanti Mandir centre where I had begun my fieldwork. This tends to make the guru’s charismatic presence - and the anticipation of it - central to the daily life of the devotees and the ashram. I later observed similar centrality and anticipation of the guru amongst the Shanti Mandir devotees during Nityananda’s Australian tour in 2007. During my visits to Shiva Yoga, a group of young women dressed in saris often sat wide-eyed at the feet of the guru, and the hall was often filled with laughter from the crowd, spurred on by humorous stories told by Shankarananda. There seemed always an air of anticipation of what the guru would say or do.

Although Shankarananda was a university lecturer during the 1960s his talks during my fieldwork appeared to carry more emotive content than rational. The experience, for me, was more an emotional one rather than cerebral. In Lofland’s (1965) study of the Moonies he noted that emotional rather than intellectual stimulation appeared a better means of attaching a potential convert to the group. The highly emotionally charged atmosphere of the Shiva Yoga satsang possibly presented a comparable environment to the communal singing and ‘love bombing’ of the early Moonies, with a comparable potential to attach prospective converts to the group.

After discussing my feelings of disorientation with a colleague who specialises in hypnotism, he advised me on how I might divide my attention during the visits to Shiva Yoga and other Siddha Yoga Practice centres. He suggested my desire to listen to loud music and eat meat signified an attempt to block out the experience, with which I tended

96 to agree given I had some trepidation in regard to revisiting my own experience of Siddha Yoga Practice. His advice was to divide my attention rather than block out the experience. With a simple technique of mentally increasing the temperature of my left hand while listening to the guru or chanting, I no longer experienced any disorientation. This was a very interesting experience as I could participate, observe and enjoy the experience of the event without feeling disoriented on leaving the ashram. This also made it easier to write down afterwards what I had observed as well as the observations of my own emotional state.

The use of my colleague’s technique, of course, raises the question as to whether I was fully involved as a participant observer. On the upside, I was no longer blocking out or fighting the experience, I could also be better involved with the groups I visited, and felt very comfortable about who I was as a researcher and as an ex-member of Siddha Yoga.

Other techniques of divided attention I used during satsang were to mentally plan tasks for the study or the following day or think about some recent literature I had read. I found as I became more comfortable with using these techniques, they also helped me to stay task-focussed and reminded me that I was present as a researcher not as a potential devotee. I did not, however, attempt to use these techniques during general conversations with devotees or outside of the environment of the satsang. Furthermore, these techniques were possibly more important only during the initial stages of the study, as a means to reduce my own anxieties and concerns about revisiting the Siddha Yoga community.

Eventually I became comfortable in the centres and ashram environments and found it easier to relax. I began to enjoy the chanting and the peaceful time to myself during the meditation sessions. Being more comfortable in the environment definitely helped me to better engage with the group members.

The following sections outline the method of analysis of the materials collected in the study and a discussion of ethics of the study.

97 Qualitative Analysis of Collected Materials Validity in qualitative research is, in part, approached through the ‘construction of appropriate methods of data collection and analysis’ (Sarantakos, 1995, p.76). In grounded theory, the analysis is driven by the data and grounded in the area of study (Strauss & Corbin, 1998). An important consideration in the grounded approach is that theory is derived from the participant’s own views (Glaser & Strauss, 1979; Silverman, 2006).

The first two interviews I conducted happened to be in the same area of northern NSW. After their completion, I wrote up analytic notes on interview content and context, and my initial impressions of what I thought were important themes. Before I undertook further interviews, I listened to these two interviews four times and then transcribed them. Because these were my first interviews I was keen to see if my semi-structured style of interviewing was a practical way to continue the interviewing process. I had some anxiety about carrying out semi-structured interviews; however, after listening to - and conducting a preliminary analysis of - the first two interviews I felt more confident about conducting further interviews. Glesne and Peshkin (1992, p.43) also acknowledge the anxieties of beginning fieldwork and ‘whether what you are doing is “right”’. I continued the practice of listening to the interviews a number of times before transcription throughout the interviewing process. I did this in order to take analytic notes on the interviews and judge and adjust my interviewing technique for the benefit of the next interview. It is important for a qualitative methodology to not only be informed by participants’ experiences of the phenomena but to ensure that the participants themselves have helped to develop questions for further exploration (Ezzy, 2002, p.64).

During the analysis of the interviews, concepts began to emerge from the participants’ transcripts (Strauss & Corbin, 1998) and codes or what could be understood as conceptual representations were applied to these segments of text. The application of codes to segments of text (whether applied to single sentences, paragraphs or whole passages) eventually allowed comparisons across all the interview transcripts. From a grounded approach, the analysis of materials begins with open coding: these are preliminary categories or concepts that seem to fit (Strauss & Corbin, 1998). This is a very important method when little is known of a substantive area. However, my own 98 prior although limited knowledge and previous studies of Siddha Yoga and studies in the area of NRMs are also highlighted as informing the initial coding process. The open coding was influenced by concepts emerging from the interviews and others that were informed by the literature and my own prior knowledge of Siddha Yoga Practice. During the open coding process, various segments of text that related to a single concept were coded densely around this concept; this is known as axial coding (Strauss, 1987, p.64). In the early phase of the study, emerging categories from the analysis, including analysis of the field notes, influenced the later data collection. In this way, the process of qualitative data collection and analysis is a linked process (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Miles & Huberman, 1994; Glaser & Strauss, 1967). This aspect of grounded theory, known as theoretical sampling, helped to guide the semi-structured interview schedule and what and who I needed to further include in the study (as noted in an example given earlier in this chapter) (Strauss, 1987, p.38). Over 70 concepts were eventually used to code the interview transcripts, although duplications and similar concepts were eventually merged to refine the coding process. This process helped to make sense of what was going on and to look at patterns and relationships across all of the participants.

Through the process of comparison and sorting the data by way of coding and theoretical sampling, core categories or themes were developed by way of saturation. Saturation of the data meant that no new categories were seen to be emerging from the data and that each category was fully explored (Glasser & Stauss, 1979, p.61). Core categories, with their sub-categories, were then represented as coding trees with a core category or theme and branches of sub-categories. The use of trees was influenced by the computer assisted qualitative data analysis programme NVivo 7 which, as explained further in the following section, I used to manage the study. This brought the coding process down to 15 coding trees (Appendix 8). These trees of core categories, through further refinement, eventually informed the themes developed into the findings of this thesis.

The entire process may be viewed as an interpretive process and has to some extent been critiqued as being overly subjective (Hammersley, 1992). However, by employing peer-checking of the initial codes and ongoing analysis, some of the subjectivity of isolated analysis is kept in check (Miles & Huberman, 1994; Padgett, 1998). For the present study, peer-checking involved allowing supervisors and a fellow postgraduate

99 student (also researching cult/NRM involvement) to check my analysis of the data (Lincoln & Guba, 1985; Rolfe, 2004). Furthermore, developing analytic memos (Strauss & Corbin, 1998) from the beginning of the interviewing process and throughout the coding process, helped to keep track of developing ideas which were then shared with a peer and supervisors. These memos became part of the process of data collection and analysis and have assisted in the final writing up of the project. ‘Throughout the whole process, induction, deduction and verification is continuously occurring’ (Alston & Bowles, 2003, p.208).

Computer Assisted Qualitative Analysis Doing qualitative data analysis appears to have become a more manageable task in recent years with the development of sophisticated software packages (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Ezzy, 2002; Silverman, 2006). The qualitative material in this study was managed and analysed with the assistance of NVivo 7, a computer-based qualitative analysis package which was designed by - and for - qualitative researchers (Bazeley & Richards, 2000; Richards, 1999). As well as manually coding the interview transcripts and field notes, NVivo 7 has the ability to code automatically using word searches. This method may not be useful for all projects; however, considering some of the words used by participants in this study are specific and relate to particular concepts, the automatic coding was useful and helped to quickly review what many of the participants had discussed and what I had written in reference to the concept: for example, the guru, or the participants’ first experience of Shaktipat. Because these words are so specific, I was able to group together participants’ responses quickly which in turn helped inform the manual coding process and further data collection. The use of NVivo 7 was invaluable in managing the large amount of data generated from transcribing interviews, field observation and memo writing. NVivo 7 enabled me to analyse chunks (segments) of text and to review the narrative in its completeness. This was important as I also wanted to consider a narrative perspective to complement the grounded analysis.

NVivo 7 was particularly useful in its ability to organise the transcripts, field notes and cases, build hierarchical trees and model some of the main concepts included in the study. The modelling tool in NVivo helped to visually group some of the main catorgories and subgroups, which helped to inform what would eventually become the basis of the findings chapters (Appendix 9). A possible disadvantage of using NVivo 7

100 is the temptation to over-fragment materials, breaking continuity or narrative in individual interviews. However with NVivo 7, it is always possible to re-locate fragments within the original transcript as the original transcript always stays intact and is easily accessible in its entirety. The ability to relocate segments in their original context of the interview is part of NVivo 7’s in-built audit-trail functionality which allows other researchers to follow the logic of the analysis. Using NVivo 7 was beneficial for this study in managing and analysing the large amount of materials that were collected during the fieldwork of this study. It also seemed a very practical and intuitive tool for developing a grounded analysis. With NVivo 7 it was easy to constantly return to the interviews and other materials collected to make verifications and corrections throughout the life of the study up to the final draft of the thesis.

Rigour in Qualitative Research Shelby (2000, p.315) recognises that the mentoring relationship between the student and the supervisor is integral to the enhancement of rigour in a qualitative study. Rigour relates to the extent findings from a qualitative study are credible interpretations and genuinely represent what has been studied (Lincoln & Guba, 1985; Padgett, 1998). In qualitative research, many researchers have rejected the positivist terminology found in quantitative reports to convey rigour (Alston & Bowles, 2003; Padgett, 1998; Lincoln & Guba, 1985). A concept that has become more appropriate to a qualitative approach to rigour is trustworthiness (Padgett, 1998). For the present study trustworthiness has been enhanced by various strategies reported in this chapter such as: prolonged engagement in the field; triangulation of methods and data sources; peer debriefing and support; the construction of an appropriate methodology; the use of a grounded approach to data collection and analysis; and an audit trail which, through the use of Nvivo, enhanced the openness, transparency and accountability of data management and analysis. Seale and Silverman (1997) highlight aspects of rigour in relation to presentation of findings - such as ensuring a representation of cases and supporting generalisation with evidence (in this case quotes from participants) - which are also present in this study.

Padgett (1998, p.101) has noted member checking, a useful method of trustworthiness, can in some cases be difficult to conduct because of the long distances and cost involved, which was the case in the present study. Out of the 32 participants I was able to discuss prior interviews with only 11 participants. This was useful in verifying some

101 participants’ meaning of certain concepts but more so for catching up with them and discussing the evolution of the study. However, my own and the participants’ shared experience of Siddha Yoga Practice, its meaning system and history, helped me to understand participants’ meaning and so enhanced trustworthiness. Also, for this study I used a high-quality digital audio recorder for interviewing which made transcribing verbatim relatively easy. While this was no substitute for participants’ reflections, it did enhance the quality and therefore accuracy of the audio captured during the interviews. Member checking with all participants would have further enhanced the study in regard to rigour; nevertheless, as Padgett (1998, p.101) has lamented, ‘we make do with what we have’.

As well as constructing appropriate methods to enhance rigour, there were some ethical considerations and challenges presented by this study of cult/NRM involvement.

Ethical Consideration of the Study Ethics approval for this study was gained from the University of New South Wales. Interviews and participant observations took place only after ethical approval and informed consent was obtained from the participants and the groups. Ethics in research is acknowledging respect for other beings, the communities visited and the integrity of the research (NHMRC, 2008, p.11). The aim of gaining consent from the groups and participants was, therefore, not a purely formal process but a chance to communicate what I wished to learn from our mutual exchange (NHMRC, 2008, p.19). Gaining consent from the groups and participants was obtained after discussing the focus of the research and what would be involved in their participation (Miles & Huberman, 1994, p. 291).

All information provided by participants in this study was treated with strict confidence. As a social worker, it is second nature to safeguard the privacy of those who confide in us (Royse, 2004; Yegidis & Weinbach, 2005). Because Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia is a relatively small community, the possibility of recognition by other past or current community members is heightened. Therefore, the description of the participants in this thesis is purposefully limited and general. Within the study, the occupations and other descriptors have been changed to comparable occupations and settings as part of the ethical commitment to the participants’ anonymity (Burgess, 1984; NHMRC, 2008).

102 All participants in this study have been given pseudonyms (Appendix 6). In relation to data collection, all materials collected in the field were stored securely in a locked filing cabinet at the University of New South Wales and computer files were password protected. Research material collected during this study, including field observations, computer files, audiotapes and interview transcripts, were kept secure throughout the life of the study. All materials from this study are stored in the School of Social Sciences and International Studies at the University of New South Wales and will be destroyed after 7 years, consistent with the University’s ethics requirements. Participants were made aware of these safeguards which protect their privacy both in the participant consent form and again during the interviews.

Participants were interviewed at times which suited them and at a venue of their choice. If at anytime during the interviews participants wished to discontinue, they were free do so without prejudice to future relations with the University of New South Wales or the participating organisations (NHMRC, 2008, p.21). Participants were made aware of this in the participant consent form and again at the beginning of the interviews. No participant took the option to discontinue participation in the interviews or the general study. In any conference presentations prior to this thesis, general themes from the findings have been discussed in such a way as to protect participants’ anonymity (Healy, 2006b; 2007).

To respect and do justice to participants’ involvement in a study it is necessary to inform them of the outcomes of the study in a timely and clear fashion (NHMRC, 2008, p.12). Therefore, after finishing the write-up for this study, I began a summarised document of the study’s findings which I intend to distribute to the groups and individuals who were involved in the study. I will also make the participants and groups aware of any future published materials from this study.

Ethical Challenges In this particular research, I encountered some ethical challenges related to the setting and my own prior involvement with a Siddha Yoga Practice. Because of my prior role as a drummer in the movement, I considered drumming might present an opportunity to participate. Although drumming did help me to fit in, I initially failed to recognise my own effect on the groups I was observing. The first time I was asked to play at Shiva

103 Yoga by their guru, it appeared to offend the regular drummer who at the time and later appeared particularly aggravated with me. When I was next asked to play, I made sure to first discuss it with the regular drummer; we then agreed to share the evening. This experience showed me how ignorant I was of the positions established in the group. Subsequently, when I visited Shanti Mandir in Melbourne, which also had a regular drummer, I did not pursue members’ requests for me to play. I became aware that, if I increased participation, members’ positions would be upset, and as I would be eventually moving on, I would not have to deal with my effect. For Taylor (1991, p.238), leaving the field is not simply a matter of ‘wrapping up’ but requires attention to the changes leaving will have on individuals and the group. With this in mind, I kept my drumming to a minimum, more as that of a guest than an alternative to the regular drummer.

While I played drums only occasionally at Shanti Mandir in Sydney - as they did not have a drummer - even this limited participation created an expectation of further commitment. This in turn made leaving the group more difficult for me as they had become reliant on me as their drummer. Shaffir and Stebbins (1991, p. 207) acknowledge that many field workers regard personal connections and commitments undertaken during participant observation as barriers to leaving the setting. Assessing my level of involvement at the beginning of the study was difficult, considering I sought some level of acceptance from the group. However, following these events, I came to realise that, becoming too involved - because I wanted acceptance - with such small groups can upset their balance and give a false sense that they can depend on me (that is, I may appear as an integral part of the group, however my participation is actually time limited).

Although I had permission from the officials of the groups to participate, observe and network, I was aware that I did not have the permission of all members or of those who visited the groups. Thus, I tended to introduce myself as a researcher to anyone I met as soon as was politely possible. This gave them the opportunity to continue to talk to me or not, and ensured my overt researcher role did not unintentionally slide into a covert role. Like other researchers undertaking participant observations I felt, if I did not make my role as a researcher known as soon as possible, I would be spying or being dishonest (Barker, 1984; Wallis, 1977; Wolf, 1991).

104

One of the participants did not want me to include their particular life situation at the time of the interview. They felt that their present situation did not represent their general circumstances. At the time I felt this represented a loss of a valuable piece of information. But, in respect for the wishes of this participant, I have left it out.

Another of the participants towards the end of the interview became emotionally upset. While I felt tempted to enter a therapeutic role, I resisted, taking the view that I could still empathise and console her in the role of a researcher. Researchers who are skilled in counselling, as I am as a social worker, are recommended ethically to not enter a therapeutic role when in the role of a researcher but to suggest to the participant the option of seeing another professional (NHMRC, 2008, p.27). In this case, I stopped the interview and the recorder and we talked about what had been bothering her and whether she had considered seeing somebody professionally to speak about her concerns. As I was leaving, I gave her the option to call me should she wish to participate in a further interview. She seemed agreeable to this. Six months later she contacted me by phone, and I interviewed her again. This follow-up interview was fairly casual and, for my part, I was interested to know how she was going since we last spoke. She was the only participant to have become emotionally upset during an interview.

One final ethical challenge for me was writing up the study. What I have attempted to present in this thesis is a considered and balanced exploration of involvement in Siddha Yoga Practice. However, in attempting a balance I have written about issues that may seem derogatory to some of the participants and apologetic to others. Similar to Wolfe (1991, p.223), who studied an outlaw biker gang, I felt a sense of betrayal to the groups and individuals I have studied by writing about them. By telling the story of participants’ experiences, I have in part written an exposé, while elsewhere I could appear as an apologist for the movement. These reservations are largely unresolved, even though I do consider that the research design has helped to guide me towards an open and balanced view of individuals’ experiences of Siddha Yoga Practice.

The chapter ends with a discussion of offering the participants something in return.

105 Offering Something in Return Lofland (1971, p.98) notes that it would be a very cold and withdrawn researcher who would not offer something in return for the privilege of being allowed to participate and observe. From my own experience it seemed sufficient during the participant observations to bring along a plate of food to the Sydney satsang, help clean up after events and offer my services as a musician/drummer. Other than bringing food, helping out, playing the drum and eventually distributing a summary of the findings, there were no other overt expectations the groups had of me or that I offered them. I have to admit that what I have gained through my research with the groups and individuals far outweighs whatever I gave or will give in return. I am, therefore, deeply indebted to the organisations and individuals who allowed me to observe, participate and ask questions.

Conclusion This chapter has presented the research process involved in undertaking this study. In laying out the significance, the aims and objectives, the research questions and the various qualitative methods used for collecting and analysing data, this chapter has attempted to demonstrate a rigorous research process that addresses the initial research problem. I also wished to convey my own experience of undertaking this study considering that the research process was also a very personal experience. In qualitative research, it seems appropriate not to remove the researcher from the research process. I gladly concede that I am very much a part of the study, especially in regard to shaping the initial research problem, the research questions and the interpretation and presentation of the findings. However, I also have to acknowledge that my own knowledge and research process is guided by those who have gone before me and the theory they have developed. The following chapters, Chapter 6 through to Chapter 10, present and discuss the findings from this study of Siddha Yoga Practice. These chapters present my own interpretations which have been informed by the knowledge and theory presented in Chapters 2, 3 and 4.

Chapters 6 through to 10 are presented in the chronological order of the participants’ experience of involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice. I have set out the chapters in this way to reflect the interviewing process. As previously discussed in this chapter, the interviews explored the participants’ experience of involvement from their first discovery of Siddha Yoga to their situation at the time of the interviews. Thus, these

106 chapters include: Discovering a Siddha Yoga Practice; Experiencing Siddha Yoga life; Spiritual life: ‘Sadhana’; Movement Away from Siddha Yoga and Life After Siddha Yoga.

As part of the ethical commitment to the participants’ anonymity all participants in this study have been given pseudonyms (Appendix 6) (Burgess, 1984; NHMRC, 2008). Those who were known by a spiritual/Indian name I substituted with another name from this tradition (there is a discussion of spiritual/Indian names in Chapter 7).

All quotations are presented verbatim. Where I have deleted words for clarity I have inserted an ellipsis. Words or letters I have added for clarity, or commitment to the participants’ anonymity, are presented in square brackets.

107 Chapter 6

Discovering a Siddha Yoga Practice

(Bruce)He attracted the most disparate mob … with no apparent spiritual development between them. I don’t think they would mind me saying that … We were just knock about people who were curious seekers … We were probably genuine, even if we didn’t know it, we had the yearning in our hearts.

This chapter relates to the first of the research questions of this study: ‘What are the different pathways and attractions individuals recognise in relation to their initial contact with Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice?’ The main themes that came from the interviews informing this question were around seeking behaviours, how individuals heard about Siddha Yoga, the initial attractions, life crises prior to involvement, participants’ prior spiritual experience and signs. This chapter reports and discusses this initial process of participants’ discovery of a Siddha Yoga Practice. The chapter broadly relates to initial stages of conversion. In theories of conversion, such as those developed by Lofland and Stark (1965) and Rambo (1993), there is inevitably a process which begins with finding out about the group and then that of becoming more actively involved, and also some attention to predispositions and context. The first section of this chapter explores the participants’ experience of seeking.

Seeking or Not Seeking Seeking is a concept that has become important in reference to sociological studies of religion. However, there is an apparent distinction in the findings of this study between those who actively sought out a spiritual path such as Siddha Yoga and those who came across Siddha Yoga almost by accident and so do not fit comfortably into a concept of seekership. Warburg (2001) has also made the distinction between these two groups, categorising one as seekers and the other as non-seekers. Although, in the present study, it would be preferable to consider those who are not actively seeking as accidental- seekers. This is an important distinction considering that, at the time individuals were presented with Siddha Yoga, they did not disregard it, and often acknowledged, retrospectively, that they were at some level looking for something like this (or as one participant, Edith, said ‘there are no accidents really’). Therefore, the interview

108 material presented under the themes of seeker and accidental-seekers bring to life these distinctions or pathways of discovery. What also became apparent when interviewing participants is how they highlighted those things in their past that are important to them in the present.

Seekers In relation to seeking, 19 of the 32 participants (Appendix 6) could be considered seekers at the time of their initial contact with Siddha Yoga. Angie, Mark, Bruce, Elizabeth, Garry, Lali, Michelle, Dan, Philip, Greg, Harmony and Sally were all interested and had practiced some form of yoga or meditation. Gordon was the only one of the group who was interested in channeling spirits; however, Angie also had a period in her life where she experienced being a channel. Robert was interested in the esoteric in a general sense, something different from his Church of England childhood. David had what he described as a direct experience of God that set him on a search. Ganesh’s interest was initially more academic than spiritual. Patricia had begun to experience a change in her self and became open to alternative spiritual groups. Thomas and Christine were interested in spirituality, though not committed to practising any particular path.

While the seekers in this study were interested in a variety of spiritual practices prior to Siddha Yoga, Eastern forms of yoga were predominant. They were already looking for something before they discovered Siddha Yoga. Some had travelled through various practices or groups and, thus, had some belief in, or experience of, a metaphysical plane. Mark, Dan and Garry illustrated the ways in which they were already on a search prior to discovering Siddha Yoga, a search that continues.

(Mark) I had graduated from college and gotten a degree in [fine arts]. I had also taken a course in astrology in that time, but I was also involved in doing yoga and I was involved with a group called Kundalini Yoga doing their sort of exercises … I wasn’t really sold on them. I would, you know, visit a lot of other groups too, and done Hatha Yoga and various things, so I had an interest in all that.

Exploring participants’ past experience also uncovers something meaningful about their present life. When I met Mark, he was still interested in astrology and was also teaching

109 a form of Kundalini Yoga. Similarly, with Dan, although we discussed what he was doing prior to Siddha Yoga, he seemed to emphasise those things that were important to him at the time of the interview. Dan appeared even more interested in Zen now than when he was as a young man prior to Siddha Yoga.

(Dan) I had always been attracted to the whole Zen thing. For me it was the aesthetic of it and all that … I was looking, and to this day I don’t believe in God, I don’t, well, not in the way most people believe in God … I was searching to find out more about the human condition and some explanation of what life is all about. It is still a mystery.

Garry and his partner Michelle are other examples of seekers who, at the time of the interview, emphasised those things in their past that continue to be important to them.

(Garry) We were not unfamiliar with yoga practice. We had been practising self- taught Buddhist Tantric Mahayana practices, Tibetan, as best we could.

These seekers appear to have had some idea of what they were - and are still - looking for, possibly something that has an authenticity for them. The illustrations above express some important themes for seekers. As Garry referred to his and his partner’s yogic practice as self-taught (‘as best we could’), it appears to acknowledge the desire for a teacher. Dan expressed a desire for a reconfiguration of the notion of god. Finally, Mark was not ‘sold’ on what he had experienced up to that point in his search and, therefore, continued to seek, as did Garry and Dan. These seekers do not seem passive in their searching or indiscriminate, they appear to have some idea of what they are looking for. Interestingly, the majority of those with prior involvement with spirituality were oriented towards a yoga or meditation discipline.

The participants in this study were attracted to something unconventional or new, especially those who began practising in the early 1970s. Siddha Yoga for them did not represent what they would normally regard as a religion.

110 (Krishna) I don’t see it as religion, I see a religion as being something separate … I don’t see Siddha Yoga as ultimately saying that it is separate from anything. We are all part of this integrated mass of consciousness.

It can be seen that the seekers had specific ideas of what they were looking for. However, there are those in this study who at the time of coming into contact with Siddha Yoga were not oriented towards yoga or meditation and were not particularly seeking. These participants have been considered accidental-seekers.

Accidental-Seekers The 13 members in this study considered to be accidental-seekers reported no prior interest in yoga or gurus. However, it has to be acknowledged that the participants’ birth religions supported a belief in metaphysical forces, worlds and beings. In relation to this study, accidental-seekers were those who at the time prior to Siddha Yoga were not looking for Siddha Yoga or anything similar. Cathleen had some knowledge of gurus but initially was not at all interested.

(Cathleen) I was dead set against gurus, dead set, because I felt that we live in the West, they live in the East. It is their kind of understanding, not ours, and for us to jump on the bandwagon; it’s just opting out and just a fashion and trend.

Cathleen eventually did, as she put it, ‘jump on the bandwagon’, when convinced by her sister. When I interviewed her, it was at a yoga centre where she had just finished a Hatha Yoga class. As we discussed her ideas of yoga and gurus prior to her involvement, she was being ironic, considering what she was doing that day. There we were, outside a yoga centre, sitting in her car with a picture of her new guru, Amma, on her dashboard. 30 years later, the yoga ‘fashion and trend’ was even more fashionable and trendy.

Susan knew nothing about yoga or Siddha Yoga, at the time she was suffering from severe depression, she had recently started a new job and a co-worker asked her to come along to the ashram for a meal.

111 (Susan) I had no idea, absolutely no idea what any of it was, so I went along for the meal and the program.

After that meal and program, Susan ended up spending 8 years in the Ganeshpuri ashram in India, and 20 years altogether involved with Siddha Yoga. Similary, Shannon was not so much seeking out a religious group as she was looking for a way out of abusing drugs when she first discovered Siddha Yoga.

(Shannon) I was taking drugs and pretty messed up. [My brother] went to India and came back and was ringing bells and meditating and my boyfriend and I at the time just started going to the ashram … So I guess I needed it.

Shannon had been an active part of Siddha Yoga for 16 years, and when I met her for the interview, it had been two years since she decided to no longer be involved with the group. Shannon was conflicted about her time spent in the movement. She also reflected on her ability to now live without drugs.

Shannon, Susan and Cathleen are examples of participants in this study who were not actively seeking to be involved in a movement such as Siddha Yoga yet became active members for many years. The accidental-seekers in this study appear to have found something they were not aware they were looking for. In fact, a better way to understand the accidental-seeker would be to consider that they had made a discovery. And, similar to seekers, when discussing the past with Cathleen and others who appeared as accidental-seekers, their conversations were also placed or set in relation to the time of the interview. This is a consistent – and possibly unavoidable - theme throughout this study. Participants appeared to reflect on their past in relation to their present. It, therefore, has to be acknowledged that the past may be altered so as to suit or fit the participant’s present position. What is helpful in participants’ reflective outlook is that it brings to attention the ways in which individuals integrate their experience and develop their beliefs. Riessman (2001, p.705) acknowledges that ‘personal narratives are, at core, meaning-making units of discourse. They are of interest precisely because narrators interpret the past in stories, rather than reproduce the past as it was’.

112 In regard to this study, seekers and accidental-seekers went through a process of discovery and reinterpreting or integrating this discovery. So, how did this initial discovery come about? How did the participants hear about Siddha Yoga?

Hearing About Siddha Yoga

The findings reveal clear pathways of discovery which are linked to the participants’ experience as seekers or accidental-seekers and yet they also highlight the everyday nature of discovery for all participants in this study. Those who were considered seekers, tended to hear about Siddha Yoga or the guru Swami Muktananda through their established networks of friends, family and associations. Considering many of these individuals were already familiar with, or practising, some form of yoga or spiritual practice, their immediate environment was receptive and possibly welcoming of new forms of spirituality. The accidental-seekers also appear to have heard about Siddha Yoga through family, friends and associations.

When Angie first heard about Siddha Yoga she was living in Melbourne and was a keen Hatha Yoga practitioner. A few years prior, Angie had run a small yoga group in Canberra.

(Angie) So then my husband came home from work one night and said, “I have a surprise for you, a friend is coming for dinner”. And when I opened the door it was actually someone I had known in Canberra and had taught them to meditate … And he walked in the door and said, “Oh I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. I’ve found our guru”. And I said, “What do you mean, you’ve found our guru?”. And he said, “Muktananda, he is the most amazing man and he is coming, you have to come and see him”. This was 1974.

Philip was at the time of his discovery working in Australian theatre and, as with others in this study, had already developed a keen interest in physical yoga.

(Philip) I was always interested in yoga. There was only one yoga teacher at the time in Sydney, an Indian woman, [Swami Saraswati], so I had gone to her … She ended up on the TV. When I met her, she was living in the same room that she taught in a hall in Neutral Bay. She taught me some basic yoga things. I had read

113 things about yoga before and I was interested because my father comes from India … I heard that Muktananda was coming out, because of one of my interests I had seen the little poster …

Lali was at university and living in her first share house. She described herself as quite naive and shy compared with her flatmates. She was not interested in drugs and parties but was interested yoga.

(Lali) It was 1974 and I was living in a house in Balmain, and I went to a Hatha Yoga class and the fellow there just mentioned this guru, Swami Muktananda, was coming to Australia. And he also mentioned that he had written a book, which at the time was called “Guru”… So I bought the book. I didn’t read it but my brother, he read it and he ended up sort of going to the centre, which was run by Helen Argent at Northbridge at the time, and so he started to go there regularly and umm ... Eventually, after exploring a few other groups, like Ananda Marga … I went to their centre, which was powerful but scary somehow, and it didn’t feel comfortable … It was sort of too much for me, so anyway my brother had been practising Siddha Yoga at Helen Argent’s centre … So I started to go there and it was much, much softer.

The last comment from Lali brings attention to the seekers’ sense of seeking what appeals, what may feel right for the seeker in the attraction of a particular group. The various attractions of Siddha Yoga for participants in this study will be explored later in this chapter.

Those in the study who were considered to be accidental-seekers, tended to hear about Siddha Yoga through friends, family and at times medical appointments or workplaces. However, the clear delineation between seekers and accidental-seekers is that the latter had been informed of something new, whereas the former were already familiar with yoga and meditation. When discussing how the participants in this study had found out about Siddha Yoga, in both types of seekers it was mostly through a friend or family member.

114 Ben’s girlfriend came home one night enthusiastic about her experience at the Sydney ashram in Dulwich Hill.

(Ben) So she comes home one night and she says, “I went to this thing and it’s called Siddha Yoga”. And I went, “Yeah my mum used to do yoga, you know, black leotards and on the floor doing exercises”. I wasn’t interested at all. And she says, “No it’s amazing, they were all chanting in Sanskrit”.

Ben’s girlfriend eventually convinced him to go along to the Dulwich Hill ashram, which soon became a regular Tuesday night for him, his girlfriend and some of their friends.

Fredrick belonged to a tight-knit group of friends and, like Ben and his girlfriend, when he got involved so did some of his closest friends.

(Fredrick) I think it was, I thought it was through someone I was playing in a band with, or maybe two people who started going onto meditation class and probably invited me along or roped me in. Whichever way you want to look at it.

Jessica and her sister wanted to be with their mother, who was spending a lot of time at the Melbourne ashram. So after finishing their studies in Canberra they began going to the ashram to be with her.

(Jessica) ... through my mother, she got involved in 1977, ‘78 and she started going to Gore Street Ashram … We were living in Canberra. We had gone there to study … So when we came home to Melbourne we kind of just started going … We just started doing it because Mum did it, we did everything Mum did so, because we didn’t have a dad, and we sort of like, you know, you just get sucked in …

Both Fredrick and Jessica used a similar expression at the end of their narratives. Even though it was with some humour, Fredrick referred to being ‘roped in’ and Jessica as ‘sucked in’. It appears they initially had no strong desire to join a movement; however, the strength of recommendation from family or friends was an important determinant of their eventual involvement with Siddha Yoga.

115

The role of family and friends introducing individuals to Siddha Yoga, or the involvement in spiritually interested social networks, highlights the importance of word of mouth as a pathway to discovery. However, word of mouth also appears important where individuals are not connected to a network or family with interests in yoga or spirituality. Neither Nicole nor Susan were actively seeking out a spiritual path but, on consulting medical practitioners who happened to be devotees of Siddha Yoga, they too discovered the group. The medical practitioners introduced them to the practice of mantra repetition, meditation and eventually introduced them to Siddha Yoga. David, also a medical practitioner, admitted to introducing many patients to Siddha Yoga. Interestingly only Lali mentioned that inviting along friends to the ashram is encouraged in Siddha Yoga. However, it appears that whether individuals were encouraged to or not, they did tend to tell others close to them about Siddha Yoga. Word of mouth was a significant way individuals heard about Siddha Yoga, which is why this study prefers the notion of ‘hearing about’ or ‘discovered’ to ‘recruited’ as a way to describe initial involvement. While an argument could be put that word of mouth was an effective form of recruitment amongst these participants, it may also simply reflect followers’ keen interest to share what they had discovered in Siddha Yoga.

The next aspect of involvement with Siddha Yoga to consider is the initial attraction of the group for the participants. Many of the participants’ recollections of becoming involved in Siddha Yoga relate to the people they met and the environment in which they met them, which was often at an ashram. The environment and the Siddha Yoga community are thus important aspects to consider.

The Initial Attraction of Siddha Yoga For some of the participants, their initial contact with Siddha Yoga was the first time they had been exposed to a Hindu-style environment. It is not surprising, then, that the initial attractions discussed in the interviews were in relation to the overall environment. Participants recollected the smells, the food, the chanting and the people they met.

(Fredrick) The smell I suppose was the thing that hit you first … Incense and this sort of oil that I can’t remember the name of that everyone wore … Which I really thought was a pretty good smell. The other thing I remember is chai and the smell

116 of chai, and I think sweets that they had there. I was really attracted to that. Just the food, I think, just the whole thing of nourishment probably attracted me, as well, that they had going. Other first impressions were probably people who appeared to be contented or friendly, hippy types who were approachable or who were approaching me I suppose. That was, you know, pretty different, very different from the scene I had been involved in, which was a pretty remote, stand- offish thing I suppose.

Fredrick brings together those things that attracted him about the environment of the Sydney ashram. Others also commented on similar aspects, like the smells and the food.

(Nicole) My first impression was, it was very different, very unusual. I liked the smell of the incense.

(Jennifer) The people were nice and the food was nice. That was my hook.

As well as the smells and the food, an attraction to Siddha Yoga was the community of individuals already fully involved in the movement. Jennifer referred to them as nice and Fredrick as contented and friendly. The existing community of Siddha Yoga certainly had qualities that appealed to the participants in this study. For Jessica, there were aspects of the existing members she wanted to emulate.

(Jessica) There was a very attractive crew of people who worked the hall and there was the manager and they all looked really, they were just beautiful people that looked really attractive and young. You sort of look and think, oh they look really attractive, interesting, I would like to be like them …

Jessica highlighted that there was an attractive crew of people working at the ashram and, for Shannon, this environment of people working together – or as she termed it, ‘the camaraderie’ - was as significant attraction of the group.

In addition to the new aromas, food, and community, a consistent theme in the attraction of Siddha yoga was the chanting. Chanting, as with meditation, was one of the main practices of Siddha Yoga. Many of the participants reported they enjoyed the chanting.

117

(Susan) I loved the chanting, the chanting was what really got me.

(Ben) Me and these other people would go there on a Tuesday night. We would drive all the way out there and we would chant and we’d sing all the way home … it was like we were on cocaine or something.

Chanting appeared to provide a natural high and, as Ben noted, it was generally a group experience. For many, the camaraderie of a group was an important initial attraction and, for others, the initial attraction was Siddha Yoga’s apparently less dogmatic approach to spirituality and philosophy. Ganesh, in his interview, made reference to one of the main teachings of Muktananda and Siddha Yoga Practice.

(Ganesh) Honour yourself, bow to yourself, kneel to yourself, your god dwells within you as you … It resonated really strongly with me, it really did, it resonated and I thought here’s a belief system that doesn’t require you to believe in anything that is in fact external to yourself and therefore you don’t have to believe in any dogma …

Greg also expressed his attraction to the less dogmatic aspects of Siddha Yoga Practice by relating a potentially embarrassing incident during a group meditation session at the Sydney ashram.

(Greg) Two or three or maybe four women, who seemingly were having orgasms, like full-on loud panting variety orgasms, accompanied by laughter from a couple of other people. And the swami’s comment was simply to laugh. He said, “When the energy moves in those centres, that is what you experience.” And I loved it, I just loved the ridiculousness of it, the inclusiveness of it. The fact that this yoga, this particular form of yoga encompassed sexuality. And that had been a point of diversions for me, with Christianity.

For some, possibly because of one or more of these attractions - the natural highs, the camaraderie, the exotic food, the smells and the less dogmatic approach to spirituality - it felt like they had found what they were looking for, or that that they had come home.

118

(Robert) This is important, my feeling was, I felt like I came home. I felt like I had arrived home …

(Susan) I walked in the door and I knew I had come home, even though I knew nothing about it, I just knew I had come home, I felt so comfortable.

(Patricia) It was good, it was like: this is it, I’ve found what I’ve been after … It just felt right …

There were both seekers and accidental-seekers who expressed the sentiment of coming or returning home. Susan had no prior idea of yoga or meditation, yet found a very strong connection on her first visit to an ashram. ‘Coming home’, ‘finding what one is looking for’, or ‘just feeling right’ are among the most prominent emotional responses to participants’ initial attraction to Siddha Yoga. However, the sensation of coming home was only acknowledged when the participant suddenly felt at home. Prior to this they did not report being consciously aware of being homeless in the world. Even so, the experience of coming home does appear to present a resolution of a journey, resolved at that time in their involvement in Siddha Yoga.

Other major attractions to Siddha Yoga that led to further involvement were the guru and the participants’ initial spiritual experience in Siddha Yoga. Because these are significant topics they will be presented and discussed in Chapter 8, Spiritual Life: ‘Sadhana’. To consider at this point some of the factors prior to individuals’ involvement, it is important to identify crises or turning points in the participants’ lives, followed by participants’ prior metaphysical or spiritual experience.

Life Crises and Turning Points Twelve of the 32 participants had experienced significant negative crises in their lives prior to their involvement with Siddha Yoga. These events varied but were mainly relationship breakups and may not differ from those of other population samples. However, when participants were asked to discuss what they were doing prior to Siddha

119 Yoga, they offered detailed narrations of what was important to them, including what could be considered negative life events.

Nicole and Angie had both left marriages that they were unhappy in. Lali’s boyfriend had moved away to another state, leaving her feeling alone and isolated. Ganesh’s partner died suddenly, leaving him devastated. Tony and David had just broken up with partners; David in particular was emotionally distraught. Sally suffered physical illness. Elizabeth was dissatisfied with her career path and made a big change. Shannon was abusing drugs. Susan was suffering from severe depression. Arjuna’s home life was disruptive and Jessica was homesick. Only Patricia described what appeared to be a positive turning point in that she was interested in moving towards a healthier lifestyle. The remaining 20 participants in this study did not report any crisis prior to their involvement.

Participants’ Prior Spiritual Experiences Some of the participants reported having a spiritual experience prior to their discovery of Siddha Yoga. Signposting the prior spiritual experience of participants at this point in the thesis is to acknowledge the role this phenomenon played in seeking, for some. These examples of prior spiritual experience also help to introduce the spiritual aspects of individuals’ experience which will be presented and discussed in Chapter 8, Spiritual Life: ‘Sadhana’. Presented below are extracts from interviews with Angie, David and Robert which highlight the importance of the context of Siddha Yoga for interpreting or accommodating prior spiritual experience.

Participants’ prior spiritual experience, although not initially connected to Siddha Yoga, eventually became integrated into the discovery. It appears, in retrospect, almost a calling, or their “road to Damascus”. In Angie’s case, she was already practising a form of physical Hatha Yoga when one day, after practising her relaxation exercises, she awoke with a unique awareness.

(Angie) It is a practice of Hatha Yoga where you lay corpse posture, flat out, and you go through all parts of your body and relax yourself. So I thought I would do that for half an hour. I woke up the next morning with this amazing feeling. Heart

120 filled with love… I kept on going ‘thankyou, thankyou,’ and I thought who am I thanking? what is going on? how am I feeling like this?… A few days later this voice came into my head that said, ‘sit down cross your legs up against the wall and just relax.’ He was talking to me … I crossed my legs, and it was as if my whole spine lit up and I shot out of it, at a million miles an hour, and I became like a little dot of light. I travelled for I don’t know how long and there were these other little dots of light and it was as if I heard a talk … Like a Baba talk, like talking about the inner self, like losing the ego and all of this amazing stuff. I had never read a spiritual book, I had never encountered anything. So each evening I would sit down, I would go off and it’s like this knowledge would come through.

Angie in the telling of her story, in retrospect, linked her experience with Muktananda and Siddha Yoga: ‘it was as if I heard a talk … Like a Baba talk, like talking about the inner self’. Angie was not the only one who, in retrospect, made links that appear clear and represent of a kind of calling to Siddha Yoga. Most participants provided a narrative describing what led them to the guru and Siddha Yoga. There is a saying in regard to gurus which goes, ‘when the disciple is ready the guru appears’. In the case of Angie, the guru appeared many years prior to her physical meeting with him. When Angie looked back at her experience, she explained that Muktananda had given a talk in a theatre just a few weeks before she had visited it, and it was after being in that theatre (without any knowledge of Muktananda’s visit) that she began to experience a spiritual guide who would speak to her. Angie also began to paint images of the spiritual guide and appeared to have a clear idea of what he looked like. When Angie eventually met Muktananda she recognised him and his teachings and immediately knew that he was that spiritual guide who had come to her. Angie also found out that their paths had so narrowly crossed years before in that theatre.

When participants in this study reported having metaphysical or spiritual experience prior to involvement in Siddha Yoga, it was both a positive revelation and also, at times, overwhelming and difficult to place in everyday experience. Angie claimed to have lost many friends, though also made new ones who shared her interest in spirituality.

David was not practising any form of meditation or yoga when he had what he regarded as a direct experience of God. David’s spiritual awakening was through his meeting

121 with a young woman who said she ‘knew God’. Prior to David’s experience, he had broken up with his partner, which was a difficult time for him as they were living and working away from home in America, where David was practising medicine. The young woman was a patient of his and also a friend of his partner.

(David) I bumped into this young girl, who was a patient, one evening. Probably the next night after the bust up, yeah. She came back to my place and just talked for a while, and umm, she told me she knew God. She said, “This will blow your mind, David, but I know God”. And she did. And at that moment, I did too … Just that comment, that knowingness that she knew. That was the most profound experience that I have ever had. That was the perfect experience. It was as dynamic and instantaneous as that.

(John) How did you feel?

(David) My consciousness was sort of ripped right out of my body. I was sort of above and out of myself. There were these two beaming eyes … just looking at me. And I kept on saying, “What have you done? What have you done? You have got some sort of power”. I couldn’t fathom it. It was like being electrocuted. It was just an unbelievable experience. It was an instantaneously transforming experience … I was topsy-turvy after that experience. But everything sort of changed, nothing looked the same. It was like, you know, being naturally high.

When David returned to Australia his spiritual high continued, as did his confusion about the experience. David said he was compelled to find like-minded people or somebody who would understand what he was going through. It was around this time he met a couple of older women who took him under their wing. These women happened to be loosely associated with Siddha Yoga devotees and introduced David to them. Eventually David linked his experience to Siddha Yoga. Siddha Yoga seemed to give him a place and a people that accepted his experience and gave it a context where he previously had none.

122 Robert’s experience was subtle in comparison with the others presented. However, Robert’s experience highlights the evolution of spiritual interest or enquiry that is also evident in other participants in this study.

(Robert) Well I was 18. After I left school, I went to live on my own in London. I think it was in that first year that, by chance, seemingly by chance, I walked into the Theosophical bookshop in London and without knowing, I thought, this is, you know, a spiritual bookshop, philosophy, what’s this? Just the spirit of enquiry I went there. There was a picture of umm … an Indian man in a loin cloth. Up above the shop, it was right there, the only picture, and I may have found out later or I may have found out then, I don’t remember, but it was Ramana Maharishi … And, I don’t know, that picture just stopped my, I just remember standing there looking at this picture, and he has got this beautiful, beautiful smile on his face. It is the most lovely picture … So he came for me before Siddha Yoga … And I looked at a few books and I suppose on that day, my sort of spiritual enquiry opened up. Cause I opened up one of his books and he said the only important spiritual question is “who am I?” Probably for the first time in my life, I thought, “who am I?”

Robert brings up an interesting point with his acknowledgement that he had not thought about spiritual questions such as ‘who am I?’ before this time, yet this event opened him up to them. Like many of the participants in this study, when he became involved with Siddha Yoga he was young and only beginning to explore and experience life. The problem with the spiritual enquiry or experience brought up by these examples is the difficulty of where they may fit in an individual’s life, or in the larger community, especially if the experience is not easily assimilated into normative religious organisations. In Angie’s case, a local priest told her to see a psychiatrist as he did not know what to do with her. For these participants, their eventual experience of Siddha Yoga resonated with their prior experience and was easily integrated into the general philosophy of the movement. Siddha Yoga is a mystical tradition that, in general, expects its participants to have metaphysical or spiritual experience.

A related theme to prior spiritual experience is that of signs. Robert highlighted this through the telling of his experience of opening a book and reading for the first time, ‘who am I?’ Signs like this, which for participants point the way to a spiritual path, are

123 important in two ways: they make the participant aware of the path, and they also contain a proof of their choice.

Signs Participants have recounted episodes in their life prior to contact with Siddha Yoga which they feel contained signs that led them to Siddha Yoga or the guru. The following two passages illustrate the attention paid to the signs which led individuals to Siddha Yoga.

(Dan) One day I saw a photo of Baba, had an immediate response … It was on a poster of photos of spiritual masters and my eye kept being drawn to his photo. And then, coincidently, I went to a vegetarian restaurant to eat and they were selling books, his Chit Shakti Vilas. And I opened the book and there was the same photo. I thought, that is an interesting coincidence. And I asked, “How much is this book?” I think it was something like $4.95. And I emptied my pockets and I had $4.95. And I thought, “Oh I’ll read this”. And somewhere in there I got Shaktipat and I was in Ganeshpuri within three months.

David had been to a music festival where a film had been shown which included pictures of spiritual masters. One of those was Muktananda. After the festival he went to visit a former patient.

(David) I went and visited a former patient of mine, out at Mullumbimby. And out in this hay shed, I was just rummaging behind a bale of hay, and a stack of books written by Baba fell over. I thought, “There is that face again”. I thought, “This is a sign”… That sort of convinced me … That was the sign.

David had known, through people he had met at the music festival, that Muktananda was going to be in Melbourne; however, he took this as a sign that he should go and meet him. The final quote by Philip helps to illustrate the presence of signs as leading to Siddha Yoga and, for him, proof thereof.

124 Philip went to a dinner party with his girlfriend. He did not know any of the guests, however was amused by a man who had a laugh like a donkey, ‘Ee-aw, Ee-aw, Ee-aw’. As Philip stood in the door way, he was approached by a young girl.

(Philip) A small girl, five years old, kept running up to me, she said, “I know who you are”, and I said, “How do you know that?” She said, “I have a picture of you in my book”. I said, “A picture of me?”... She ran off, picked up this book, came back. It was a hard-covered blue book, and she flicked it opened, and there is a picture of Muktananda in the book. It was Muktananda’s book Play of Consciousness. I didn’t know who this guy was. She opened the book held it up to me, pointed at the book and said, “There you are”, pointing to a picture of Muktananda. I thought, Who is that? That was pretty amazing. So that’s what got me interested in that whole thing … I didn’t look anything like him, so why should this five-year-old girl be doing this? And as she said that, the father goes, “Ee-aw, Ee-aw, Ee-aw.” So that was the experience.

When Philip eventually met Muktananda at the Melbourne ashram, he felt some confusion as to whether Muktananda was his guru or not. When he decided to leave he stopped to get a milkshake at a nearby café and in the corner heard a man laughing like a donkey, ‘Ee-aw, Ee-aw, Ee-aw’. It was the father of the little girl from the party. For Philip, this answered his doubts and he returned to the ashram for the rest of Muktananda’s visit.

For participants, signs have acted like proofs. There is a chain of events which appears to link neatly into a proof, as David states, ‘that sort of convinced me … That was the sign’. These signs are obviously important in regard to the participant’s choice and movement towards the new belief system. Many years later the magic of the sign or strength of the story as proof is alive in the participants’ narratives. Signs are significant, although they appear to have the most importance at the initial point of moving towards Siddha Yoga.

Discussion Many studies have presented those who convert to new spiritual perspectives as being disenchanted with the dominant faiths (Lofland, 1966; McIlwain; 1990; Rambo, 1993;

125 Stark & Bainbridge, 1980). It must be recognised, however, that disenchantment with dominant faiths may be substantial in the general population, considering that the dominance of religious interpretation of experience has been continually challenged and eroded since the enlightenment (Caputo, 2001; Nietzsche, 1974; Zizek, 2003). Not all individuals who are disenchanted with their birth faith are expected to become interested in NRMs. For the participants in this study, whether they actively sought out or accidentally came across a Siddha Yoga Practice, there were particular attractions for them.

The seekers in this study appeared to have an idea of what they were looking for. Balch and Taylor (1977, p.55) argue that, rather than perceiving seekers as disenchanted or floundering in a sea of spiritual confusion, as has been proposed by Lofland and Stark (1965), it is more appropriate to regard a seeker as ‘one who is socially orientated to the quest for personal growth’. Bruce, as noted above, saw himself and those around Muktananda as ‘curious seekers’ with a spiritual longing which he regarded as genuine. Balch and Taylor (1977, p.55) consider seeker-ship as a positively regarded identity by the seeker and those who share similar ideals. Certainly many of those considered seekers in this study actively sought out a particular spiritual path oriented towards Eastern philosophy and yoga. Those who were not actively seeking, discovered something they were not previously aware of. In the process of becoming involved in Siddha Yoga, both seekers and what I have termed accidental-seekers had discovered a spiritual path.

Discovery appears a more useful notion than recruitment by which to understand individuals’ initial involvement in Siddha Yoga. Puttick’s (1996, p.27) study of the Indian-based Osho movement found that participants came across the movement through their own seeking behaviours, as part of their ‘spiritual journey’, rather than through overt recruitment or proselytising by the group. For those in this study whose community networks already included spiritual and yoga groups, Siddha Yoga was another group they discovered in their neighbourhood. For accidental-seekers, they happened across this neighbourhood already populated and full of existing mystery. Those who were seekers in this study were already connected to a network of spirituality and yoga, which appeared to position them as receptive to new forms of yoga or visiting gurus. Some studies have posited the notion of an ‘occult milieu’ or

126 ‘cultic milieu’ (Campbell, 1972) to account for the variety of alternative spiritual practices, including tarot and astrology, as an arena for potential followers to discover movements (Stark & Bainbridge, 1980, p.1390-1391). Since Campbell conceived the notion of the cultic milieu in the 1970s, this network of spiritually interested individuals and groups has become more visible to the mainstream and is loosely termed the New Age movement (see Heelas, 1996).

The New Age movement or cultic milieu is not a formal network of institutions but, rather, relationships between individuals connected by shared interests (Heelas, 1996; Possamai, 2001). When considering human relationships, Arendt (1998, p.183) asserts, ‘this in-between is no less real than the world of things we visibly have in common’. For this study, Arendt’s (1998, p. 183) metaphor of the ‘web of human relationships’ – which she uses to conceptualise the invisible ties which are a condition of human experience - is helpful for gaining an idea of the interconnectedness of participants’ experience of seeking and discovery. A web of human relationships is a broad notion which recognises the interconnectedness of all human relationships and action. This is important because accidental-seekers, with one simple introduction from a friend, family member or associate, were introduced to the world of yoga and gurus. (Accidental-seekers, as noted earlier, are those who were not seeking or networking within a ‘cultic milieu’.) The findings in this study highlight the everyday nature of the discovery of NRMs such as Siddha Yoga, with many of the participants being introduced by family, friends and associates.

Although Lali acknowledged an expectation in Siddha Yoga that devotees bring friends along, there was no overt proselytising reported by the participants in this study. Siddha Yoga appeared to attract new devotees through word of mouth, by established devotees sharing their experience with others, usually friends and family. Lofland and Stark (1965, p.871) highlighted ‘cult affective bonds’ as playing a major role in an individual’s converting to a particular group. That is, developing or having pre-existing relationships and bonds with members of a prospective group helps to make the group’s message more palatable and, eventually, correct or true (Rambo, 1993, p.127). Rambo (1993, p.80) has noted that it has been mainly family and friends who have introduced individuals to a new belief system, and in this study this is particularly true of those who were not actively seeking. Although participants in this study have not necessarily

127 defined sharing their experience and inviting friends or family along as proselytising, it seems it was a successful method of gaining followers for Muktananda and Siddha Yoga. Barker (1984, p.223), however, acknowledges that most people introduced to a group end up rejecting the opportunity for further participation. It is, therefore, important to discuss what was initially attractive for the participants in this study about Siddha Yoga.

Friendship, or ‘camaraderie’, appeared to be an important attraction for those who became involved in Siddha Yoga. Stark and Bainbridge (1981, p. 313) have argued that religious affiliation is better understood as a social rather than individual phenomenon. In the context of the ashram, the group eats, chants, meditates and works together, which would suggest there exists a communal aspect to becoming involved in Siddha Yoga, a sense of community. Interpersonal bonds have been seen as an important factor in NRM involvement (Bainbridge & Stark, 1980; Lofland & Stark, 1965; Stark & Bainbridge, 1981). As Jessica noted, those at the ashram were an ‘attractive crew’, and she wanted to be like them or one of them, to be part of the group, to belong. There was also the response that participants had found what they had been looking for in a spiritual or philosophical sense. This was the case even for some of those who were not actively seeking a path, yet sensed that they had ‘come home’ when they were introduced to it.

Feelings of coming home are not uncommon in relation to religious conversion motifs, especially in the Christian tradition (James, 1979; Nock, 1998; Rambo, 1993). Nock (1998) and Rambo (1993) observe that conversion is historically considered a return. Coming home, for participants in this study, implied a sense of well-being. Home was not so much the structure of the ashram or the community but a resolve in their own being. This does not disregard those external features of the group - the different foods, smells, and enjoying new relationships in a new community - which, for some, also appear as positive attractions. However, the almost Do-It-Yourself aspect of Siddha Yoga - that is, discovering your own ‘inner self’ - helps to create a seemingly less dogmatic approach to those with little interest in traditional religious organisations. An individual’s initial discovery of Siddha Yoga may be seen as having two parts: they feel that they have both discovered themselves (or their inner self), and become a part of a

128 community. And, for many of those who became involved in the early 1970s, a community that was growing and developing.

‘Coming home’, ‘finding what one is looking for’, or ‘just feeling right’ is possibly difficult to place in regard to participants’ new faith in a Siddha Yoga Practice. It is as if they have returned to an earlier truth; like returning to a prior religious faith or understanding. As Ganesh highlighted, Siddha Yoga’s philosophy is that ‘god dwells within you as you’. Angie related, ‘so did Jesus, he said the kingdom of God dwells within you’. Caputo (2001, p.47), in quoting from Augustine, asserts that, ‘if you want to find God, the most real and transcendent being of all, do not go outside, remain at home, within the soul’. For Caputo (2003, p.128), ‘the experience of God always comes down to our experience …’ Heelas (1996, p.21) regards the focus on truth derived from personal experience as a hallmark of New Age understanding of spirituality. Siddha Yoga also tends to focus on the inner experience of the individual for spiritual fulfilment and not the outer world. Thus, when participants referred to coming home, it was often in relation to an inner experience or ‘inner self’. It would also suggest how individuals use aspects of their prior faith, as did Angie, to identify with their new experience of Siddha Yoga Practice. This is something that I discuss further in Chapter 8.

A consideration for those who study NRMs is prior life crises or turning points experienced by individuals who join these movements. Some view these crises or turning points as vulnerabilities which make an individual an object of conversion (Goldberg, 1997; Ward, 2002). Tobias and Lalich (1994, p.28) assert, ‘the reality is that anyone, at any age, who may be in a life crisis or transition can get sucked in’ to a cult/NRM. Stark and Bainbridge (1980) have attempted to categorise these vulnerabilities as ‘turning points’; others have used the terms ‘crisis’ or ‘tensions’. It is common, therefore, to consider crises or turning points as part of the process of conversion, although, according to Lofland (1966), Barker (1984), Bader and Demaris (1996), these do not in themselves appear to precipitate conversion, nor a return to prior faiths. Many people experience crises or turning points and yet do not have what Lofland and Stark (1965, p.867) regard as a religious type of problem-solving perspective. In the present study, it seemed sufficient to explore what in the participants’ life, prior to their involvement, they considered pivotal to their

129 involvement: twelve of the participants did, in fact, relate a significant life crisis prior to involvement and, to some extent, that involvement helped to deal with the crisis and became part of the individual’s personal conversion motifs.

Although a crisis or turning point alone cannot account for individuals’ seeking behaviours, some participants in this study had experienced crises or turning points prior to involvement, and so it is important to consider that these experiences may have influenced them in some way. However, the juxtaposition by participants of how bad things were with how good they became could be regarded as a narrative device to get the message across the interviewer. The crisis could be seen as very much part of the motif of becoming involved, even though correlation does not imply causation, in retrospect, the crisis derives meaning from the proximity to initial involvement. Highlighting the intensity of a crisis or turning point, in a narrative sense, may help to elevate the ‘Aha!’ moment in their discovery of Siddha Yoga. Riessman (2003, p.331) acknowledges that, while we try to ask specific questions of them, participants are well aware of ‘the rules of conversational story telling’, including reinterpreting the past to suit. Even so, it appears some of the participants, for their own health or well-being, had a desire to make some changes in their lives. (I am not implying that involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice was the only or best solution.) It does appear that crises or turning points played a part in relation to some of the participants seeking. Certainly, it was important enough for them to discuss in the interviews in relation to their initial discovery of Siddha Yoga.

Some of those who had prior spiritual experiences also found themselves on their own “road to Damascus”, as did those participants who experienced a life crisis. Rambo (1993, p.48) highlights that many conversions are precipitated by a spiritual or mystical experience. Mystical experiences, although life changing and at times disturbing for some in this study, appeared to gain context when participants discovered Siddha Yoga. Spiritual experience and its context are further explored in Chapter 8, which focuses on participants’ spiritual life in Siddha Yoga.

The events participants reported as signs or proofs in this chapter were part of the individual’s interconnected rationale for involvement in Siddha Yoga. In a way, prior spiritual experience could also be considered a sign. Signs, like spiritual or mystical

130 experience, belong to a religious/spiritual milieu and often do not make rational sense outside of that context (Brainard, 1996; Hatab, 1982). The sign has meaning for the participant in context with the environment or community in which they are – or have become - involved. Brainard (1996, p. 377) argues mystical experience is often best understood by those who experience it. Signs, from the perspective of the participants, were those experiences or incidences that led them to Muktananda or Siddha Yoga and also acted as a rationale of their eventual choice of involvement. How participants structure and verify their beliefs from their acknowledgment of the importance of signs begins to become apparent. Participants derive meaning from the signs that come into appearance out of their networking in a spiritually oriented milieu, and this has led individuals on the Siddha Yoga path.

Conclusion The chapter has explored the pathways to involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice as discussed with the participants in this study. I have outlined two main groups of individuals, one who appeared to be seekers and the other who I have termed accidental-seekers. The seekers were aware of their spiritual interests; many were practising physical yoga and networking within a spiritually interested milieu when they discovered Siddha Yoga. Those who were accidental-seekers appeared to have no prior interest in spirituality or yoga and were introduced by a friend, family member or associates. There was no overt proselytising by Siddha Yoga reported; although word of mouth appeared typical of the way individuals were introduced to Muktananda and Siddha Yoga and could be considered a form of proselytising. The sensation of ‘coming home’, ‘finding what one is looking for’, or ‘just feeling right’ was expressed by both seekers and accidental-seekers. A substantial number of the participants, 12 of the 32, experienced a significant life crisis prior to their involvement. Some of the participants reported prior spiritual experience as having led them to actively seek and played a significant role in leading them to Siddha Yoga. Related to the participants’ spiritual experience was the discussion of signs, which also were reported to have led some to Siddha Yoga and represented a rationale for their choice of involvement. Participant experience of the spiritual will be more fully explored in Chapter 8. In a general sense, what has been presented in this chapter has been discussed largely in the framework of conversion. The following chapter, Chapter 7, builds on the understanding of the participants’ initial involvement in Siddha Yoga by presenting and discussing the ways

131 in which participants became more active with their involvement with Muktananda and Siddha Yoga.

132 Chapter 7

Experiencing Siddha Yoga Life

The previous chapter reported and discussed themes relating to the participants’ initial discovery of Siddha Yoga. The present chapter builds on these aspects by exploring participants’ experience of their active involvement in Siddha Yoga, and informs the second of my research questions: ‘Did becoming involved in Siddha Yoga change individuals’ lives and, if so, how were these changes manifested?’ Because this study recruited participants with varying involvement from 1970 to 2006, individuals’ experience of becoming more actively involved was often related to the development of Siddha Yoga at the time. Furthermore, some of those who met Muktananda in the early 70s have been seen to have played an active role in the development of the movement. Therefore, this chapter also informs my fifth research question: ‘How did the Siddha Yoga Practice (Siddha Yoga (SYDA), Shanti Mandir, Shiva Yoga) develop in Australia?’

To differentiate between those who discovered Siddha Yoga in the early 1970s and those who discovered Siddha Yoga after 1978, when Siddha Yoga had become formally established in Australia and other parts of the world, this chapter is divided into two sections. The first section explores participants’ experience of becoming more actively involved in the early years of the developing movement, followed by a discussion. The second section further develops themes of active involvement by those who discovered Siddha Yoga after it had become firmly established, followed by the final discussion of the chapter.

Section 1: The Developing Movement Although this section highlights aspects of the development of Siddha Yoga it is not intended to be the definitive history of the movement. Exploring participants’ experience at the time they became actively involved with Muktananda often paralleled a discussion of the development of Siddha Yoga and the part they and others played. During the interviews, participants would often reminisce earlier and possibly simpler times. In most instances, participants were also reflecting on what Siddha Yoga is today (or what they may have heard) compared with what it was when they first discovered it.

133 This section presents participants’ experience of becoming more actively involved with Siddha Yoga during the early years of Siddha Yoga and what appears to be their role in the development of Siddha Yoga. Themes presented and discussed in this section that are important to participants’ experience of Siddha Yoga are: • Going to India in the Early 1970s • Bringing India Home • Household Centres

Going to India in the Early 1970s For some of the participants in this study, their initial contact with Siddha Yoga was Muktananda’s first tour outside of India, in 1970. Those in this study who met Muktananda on this tour became more actively involved by going to India and spending some time at his ashram in Ganeshpuri, India.

Elizabeth and Bruce both met Muktananda on his first trip outside of India in 1970. After spending time with him, they decided to go to his ashram in India

(Elizabeth) He was the happiest person that I had ever seen. I thought, I have to see this further, and he said, “Come to India,” so I did. I went to India, I stayed with him for three years.

(Bruce) He said when he was leaving, “You should come to India”. And I took it as a command. I was committed to him by then. By a couple of weeks I wasn’t turning up at [work], I was going to his lectures. I got the sack. So I sold up, and I was going to go to India.

Both Elizabeth and Bruce discussed how Muktananda had invited them to India, Bruce acknowledged that he took this invitation as a ‘command’. Although Bruce was keen to visit Muktananda’s ashram in India, and obey his ‘command’, it wasn’t until a year later that he walked through the ashram gates after spending a year in Vietnam as a photographer.

134 (Bruce) Rolled up there reeking of war in a black safari suit with a big camera bag on my shoulder with big boots, and a few days later I was in the lungi with my head shaven like everybody else. Life was alright.

Those participants who travelled to Muktananda’s India ashram in the early 1970s were presented with a simple yet austere lifestyle. Participants like Elizabeth and Bruce appeared to immerse themselves in Siddha Yoga by becoming involved in the daily ashram life (and dress) for a few years. Although, as Elizabeth pointed out, Muktananda’s group had not yet been called Siddha Yoga.

(Elizabeth) At that time he had made his first trip to the West, there wasn’t Siddha Yoga, he just had a relatively small ashram and a handful of Westerners … And we lived with him, there was a small group, say 30. A lot came and went, but say a group of about 15-30 of us stayed with him for three years, and then we travelled with him on his next tour in 1974.

Muktananda’s ashram in the early seventies was as Elizabeth noted, ‘relatively small’ and it seems it was also quite intimate.

(Dan) There were not many Westerners there in those days. There were some that had been there for a few years. It catered much more for Indians then. It was much more austere. Baba used to cook and come out and serve the food and sit with you while you ate and stuff like that, much more accessible because there were far fewer people involved.

(Bruce) I was there in the end of 71, 72, you know, 73 … it was all very mundane, very down-to-earth, but mostly we’d just hang out with Baba, and worked in the garden and did our practices and somehow we picked up something.

Most of the participants who went to Muktananda’s India ashram in the early seventies spent their time working in the gardens, learning how to meditate, chant and, as Bruce put it, ‘just hang out with Baba’. As more Westerners visited Muktanada’s ashram, he began to answer their questions in formal question-and-answer sessions. These sessions were transcribed by devotees such as Elizabeth and would become the initial formal

135 teachings of Siddha Yoga. Those early followers of Muktananda who, like Swami Shankarananda (now spiritual head of Shiva Yoga Melbourne), had academic backgrounds, also helped to develop the teachings of Siddha Yoga. Garry regarded the way in which the Western academics formalised the teachings and the monastic lifestyle of the ashram as possibly reflecting their training and their desire to become teachers themselves.

(Garry) Even before the idea of becoming a swami became a kind of fashion amongst them, they had already started the work of the priest, which is, to establish a structure … So what they did was, they started devising courses … Instead of slipping into a yoga routine that had been tried and tested for like two thousand years, you would go to classes in the afternoon … They knew how to do tutorials and all that. They applied it … These same people were really attracted to becoming swamis, because it was a power position.

As Garry has highlighted, the development of Siddha Yoga reflected the attributes of its followers as well as what they had discovered in Muktananda’s India ashram. Much of what was to become normative in Siddha Yoga was developing in the early 1970s in Muktananda’s India ashram. The following section focuses on some of the experience devotees brought back to Australia in those early years and the resulting development of intimate meetings and eventually household centres.

Bringing India Home Travelling to Ganeshpuri, India, and meeting Muktananda appeared to amalgamate devotees who would then become the organic core of the movement in Australia and elsewhere. When Dan came back from India in 1971, he and other devotees moved into a house together. Their goal was to replicate the discipline of the Indian ashram and still continue working in what they regarded as the ‘outside’.

(Dan) It was just a bunch of devotees that felt like they wanted to replicate the ashram life in Melbourne where they lived, so that they could work outside mainly and live in the ashram and follow the discipline of the ashram.

136 It was a similar story in Sydney. The people who had been to India and experienced the discipline of an ashram came back and had meetings in their homes, and like the devotees in Melbourne, attempted to run a communal house like an ashram.

(Harry) Tara … she wrote to Baba and said, “Can we turn the yoga centre (we were living there) into an ashram?” And he said, “Yes”. So that is how the North Sydney Ashram began, and that went for about two years, three years, through to ‘77, and people used to go to India all the time, everyone was going to Ganeshpuri.

These beginnings by early devotees were intimate and informal. Garry highlighted those early days in 1970 after Muktananda’s visit and what got him more actively involved.

(Garry) ‘[T]here were a couple of people that were associated with Muktananda in Sydney. So this was Helen Argent. It was just her basically. She had rented, or been given a space in some old building near Central Station … Anyway, I just went in there and it was all dark. There was just a little candle going. Helen Argent with a little squeezebox chanting, doing some mantras, doing various chants. No welcoming committee … three, four maybe at maximum. Nobody officiating. It wasn’t organised, nobody really said anything. They just sort of drifted away and went home. So I just kept going to that. It was kind of nice ‘cause I could circle the fire, you know, like a dog and come in at my own pace.... [N]othing had been formulated at that stage. It was just what people had brought back from India.’

Garry and his partner eventually spent a year in Ganeshpuri and on return to Australia moved into the newly established, although unofficial, North Sydney ashram, contributing their own experience of ashram life and what they ‘had brought back from India’.

Household Centres Prior to establishing ashrams in Australia, Siddha Yoga devotees met for chanting and meditation in each others’ homes. Establishing what became known as household centres was possibly a natural progression stemming from Muktananda’s visits to Australia. Muktanada’s 1970 and 1974 visits to Australia were hosted in residential homes. These homes were the homes of devotees who had visited Muktananda in India.

137

While Edith and her daughter were visiting his ashram in 1973, Muktananda told them that he was going to be visiting Australia and asked if he could use their home in Sydney as a base for the few weeks he would be there. Edith said, ‘I’ll have to ask my husband’, which she did. Consequently, Muktananda, Malti (Gurumayi) and a few others from his Indian ashram came to stay with Edith in Sydney.

(Edith) Baba came to stay in April 1974 for 10 days over Easter … I lost count of how many people came to the house. We never knew how many were going to be there for meals, especially tea at night. We never ran out. It was like the loaves and the fishes, it just kept going.

Impressions from participants of Muktananda’s first two visits to Australia were that of intimate, low-key informal affairs. As Edith stated, they never knew who was going to visit during Muktananda’s stay. Although Edith gave the example of ‘the loaves and fishes’, Thomas, who was also there, commented on his contribution.

(Thomas) But Muktananda didn’t have the money … So actually for the grocery, I was going and buying the groceries … Because there wasn’t enough money. They didn’t have any money, you see.

The ‘they’ Thomas refers to is Muktananda and his few followers from India who, in 1974, were embarking on a world tour with very little money. Garry recollects those times and describes Muktananda and his entourage in terms of a small theatrical group.

(Garry) It was a bit like a troupe of players coming to town. Something like that. It was not hippy, but there were a lot of hippy types hanging around. Hippy fashion. There was a mix, a pretty eclectic mix …

At this time, Bruce and another photographer had been photographically documenting the visit and the ‘eclectic mix’ of individuals attracted to Muktananda.

(Bruce) The ‘74 tour finished in Sydney. We had a lot of material … so we went to Baba and said, ‘How about it?’ And he said, ‘Go for it’. So we stayed on in Sydney

138 and we rented a house … One of the devotees who was rich, gave us some money, and we produced the books, did 5000 copies, Baba liked it and that was it.

Following Muktananda’s 1974 tour devotees began to have meetings in their own homes. These meetings or ‘satsang’ resembled what they had experienced during Muktananda’s visits.

(Garry) There was a little core of people by about 1975 [coming along] once a week to do some chanting, maybe listen to a tape, Baba doing a rave or something. And Sundays they used to do the Guru Gita out in the suburbs somewhere. It was just a little group of people just coming and doing a chant and going away.

After Muktananda’s final visit in 1978, some devotees around Australia would again open up their homes as household centres, dedicating at least one night a week to Siddha Yoga satsang.

(David) Immediately after his tour finished, he went off to the States, [and] individuals opened up centers … Mona Vale, that was my favorite … Mona Vale was just a place of pure love. There were no trips down there. The people there were mostly northern beaches crowd. Pretty fair dinkum bunch of young people.

David’s comments, that ‘there were no trips down there’ and a ‘pretty fair dinkum bunch of young people’, likely relates to his feelings that Siddha Yoga eventually became, for him, not so “fair dinkum” and even inauthentic. It also highlights his present affiliation with Shanti Mandir, which is presently a small and intimate movement and, for him, reminiscent of the early years of Siddha Yoga. As has been discussed, reminiscences of their early involvement often occur in relation to participants’ current life path.

Although many of the participants became, for a time, actively involved in Siddha Yoga, the types of involvement varied. For example, Elizabeth eventually became one of Muktananda’s swamis, living and working within Siddha Yoga ashrams around the world. Bruce lived in Ganeshpuri for a few years, though, on returning to Australia never took an active role in his local Siddha Yoga centre. Dan and his family spent

139 many years travelling the world with Muktananda as part of his staff. David visited Muktananda whenever he could but, like others in this study, while he attended events at centres or ashrams, he never worked for Siddha Yoga for any length of time. Although some of the participants never became involved in the day-to-day activities of the evolving Siddha Yoga movement, they may still have considered themselves part of the larger Siddha Yoga community.

For most of the participants in the early years, being with Muktananda was what Siddha Yoga was all about. The early meetings at household centres were little more than individuals coming together to share their experience of Muktananda and practice what they had learnt from being around him. These household centres were also places where others could be introduced to Siddha Yoga. David and Robert’s first experience of Siddha Yoga was at one of these household centres. These early beginnings of Siddha Yoga appeared to shape the future development of the movement, especially in regard to how people could be introduced to Siddha Yoga and the teachings of Muktananda.

Discussion Siddha Yoga did not yet formally exist at the time a number of the devotees in this study met Muktananda in 1970. Siddha Yoga in its formal incarnation appears to have developed out of an interchange between what devotees initially discovered in Muktananda and his India ashram, and how they began to interpret and share this discovery. Given there was no particular format to follow or formal mission to proselytise, participants appeared to develop their own way to share their discovery of Siddha Yoga, usually in the form of meetings in each other’s homes, and some cases of communal living. Barker (1984) acknowledges in her study of the Unification Church that the early converts to that movement in America experimented with communal living and varying methods to attract others with little guidance from their leader, Moon. According to Lofland (1966) and Barker (1984), from the very outset, the Unification Church was primarily concerned with gaining coverts and attempting to retain them. Recruitment is a major theme for those who study New Religious Movements. It is difficult to consider that the early devotees of Muktananda were overtly concerned with gaining converts, although this is what eventually happened. Even in its infancy Siddha Yoga devotees held meetings in which they shared their experience of Muktananda. While they did not proselytise on the streets, as did the

140 Moonies or the Hare Krishnas, they did attempt to share their discovery in a variety of ways. In the previous chapter, it was shown how some individuals were introduced to Siddha Yoga by others who were already involved. Similar to the Moonies, the Hare Krishnas, Osho and many other NRMs, Siddha Yoga did eventually develop into a worldwide movement through the active participation of the devotees. The findings suggest that the early devotees of Siddha Yoga were attempting to create a space for themselves to practice and share their discovery of Muktananda, that there was a desire for community, or that they were guided by notions of community. The community was based around the shared experience of Muktananda and what followers had learned from him, but it was not primarily for him.

The same may be said for the followers of Moon or other developing movements, although it is not apparent in how Lofland (1966) or Barker (1984) have presented their findings, being mainly concerned with recruitment, conversion and retention to what was perceived to be a deviant religious perspective. Lofland’s (1965) study does explore the modest and tentative growth of a New Religious Movement, which is also a theme highlighted by the early devotees of Muktananda. Lofland’s participants were worried about the lack of success in attracting converts in the early to mid 1960s, whereas early participants of Siddha Yoga, much like followers of Osho, were primarily concerned with their own spiritual evolution (Puttick, 1997, p.31). The difference could be related to the fact that, whereas the Moonies’ mission was one of saving souls for God, the seekers of these groups (Siddha Yoga and Osho) were more concerned with the pursuit of individual spiritual fulfillment. It may be that a Christian perspective leads more directly to proselytising. Although the Hare Krishnas are also known for street proselytising, it appears this activity is in contradiction to most Eastern-based movements (Puttick, 1997, p.31).

Many of the early devotees of Muktananda did not seem to be passive consumers of an exotic imported product but, rather, the importers, the interpreters and the community builders. Early attempts at group living, chanting and meditation meetings in halls or homes were intimate and casual, and are examples of the development of Siddha Yoga in Australia. It is not so much that the devotees were or were not doing ‘it’ right, as they were creating ‘it’, creating Siddha Yoga. As Garry noted, the academics ‘had already started the work of the priest’, they were developing the teachings. Those individuals,

141 like Dan, were importing practices they had learned in Muktanada’s ashram and were developing their small community of devotees. Devotees reproduced some of what they experienced in India or during one of Muktananda’s tours in order to develop the format for meditation meetings and household centres.

The findings of this study have to an extent moved away from the notion of an individual creator of Siddha Yoga. Although it would not be unusual to consider a figure such as Muktananda to be the sole founder of a movement, Arendt proposes an interesting point in reference to what she calls the hero of the story.

The perplexity is that in any series of events that together form a story with a unique meaning we can at best isolate the agent who set the whole process into motion; and although this agent frequently remains the subject, the “hero” of the story, we can never point to him as the author of its eventual outcome (Arendt, 1998, p.185).

So, while Muktananda may be considered the founder of the movement that eventually became known as Siddha Yoga, he may not necessarily be what Arendt asserts as the ‘author of its eventual outcome’. In this study, Siddha Yoga is understood to have been developed by early followers’ interactions with Muktananda, his ashram, India, and each other. For Arendt, once an individual acts within what she regards as the pre- existent web of relationships, those actions take place in a space of ‘innumerable, conflicting wills and intentions, that action almost never achieves its purpose’ (1998, p.184). It is difficult to appraise Muktananda’s initial purpose from what has been reported by participants, but what can be seen is the growing and changing organisation that has developed in the existing web of relationships. If the development of Siddha Yoga is attributed solely to Muktananda, it fails to acknowledge this input from the followers.

Siddha Yoga could not have developed without the individual efforts of the followers. In its own history of the movement Siddha Yoga recognises that ‘the [1974] Australian tour catalysed a community that was to become the second largest satsang outside of India’ (Brooks 2000, p.83). Muktananda, like many heroes, continues to be the central focus of the Siddha Yoga story. However, this section of the findings of this study has

142 uncovered and acknowledged ‘those without whose help he would never be able to achieve anything’ (Arendt, 1998, p.190), the followers.

When participants discussed their early experience of Siddha Yoga, it was often with a sense of regret that what was intimate and simple about Siddha Yoga had been lost in translation. It could be considered that, what they attempted to create for themselves eventually left their control and became something very different and eventually unrecognisable. As Arendt asserts, ‘action almost never achieves its purpose’ (1998, p.184). In interviews for this study, participants often reflected on what Siddha Yoga had become compared with what had originally attracted them. Participants like Elizabeth, Dan and Garry were no longer involved in Siddha Yoga when interviewed, having moved on to other things. (Moving away is a theme that will be explored in Chapter 9.)

The following section presents and discusses findings relating to those in this study who discovered Siddha Yoga as an established movement in the years following Muktananda’s 1978 tour of Australia.

Section 2: The Established Movement In the previous section, it was reported that active involvement was often in relation to the growth or creation of Siddha Yoga. This was mainly because Siddha Yoga was only just beginning to develop. Participants in the early years of the movement helped to develop the group’s literature, practices, community, norms and also renovated the physical buildings that would become ashrams. As it became more established in Australia, with the Melbourne and Sydney ashrams holding regular programs, Siddha Yoga presented a variety of opportunities for participants to become more involved. By 1981 devotees had established ashrams and household centres in many countries (see Brooks, 2000). Those who discovered Siddha Yoga during this period would have been presented with an established and vibrant movement. In around 10 years, Muktananda’s yoga practices, taught in a small ashram in India, had been developed into a worldwide movement called Siddha Yoga with a central foundation in the USA.

143 Those who came after many of the structures of Siddha Yoga had been established, could be considered consumers or sustainers - rather than developers - of the movement. Themes presented and discussed in this section are important to participants’ experience of becoming more actively involved in the established movement of Siddha Yoga. These are: • Seva/Volunteer Work at the Ashram • Ashram Life • Moving into the Ashram • Spiritual Names • Non-involved Parents

Seva/Volunteer Work at the Ashram After Muktananda’s final visit in 1978, the Melbourne ashram had established its weekly schedule, including open programs for devotees and the public. The Sydney ashram soon followed. The ashrams were now able to facilitate opportunities for devotees who wanted to live on the premises and those who attended programs. The priority to develop the movement was thus partially subsumed by the priority to sustain what had been developed. One of the main considerations in reference to sustaining the movement was that of ‘selfless service’ or ‘seva’ to the ashram or the guru. Seva in Siddha Yoga is commonly understood as service to the guru and considered by devotees as a spiritual practice. Although seva helped to further the growth of the movement, it also presented newcomers with the opportunity to become more actively involved with Siddha Yoga.

Once the ashrams had been established in Australia and elsewhere, Siddha Yoga needed people to operate them. Opportunities therefore arose for those wishing to get more actively involved by moving in or working at the ashram. Tony gave a clear example of how helping out with the dishes was part of what led to him getting more actively involved during a visit to the Melbourne ashram.

(Tony) I sort of sat down, just being a bit quiet and someone said, “Oh look, have you got anything to do?” And I said, “No”. And he said, “Do you want to come out with me and do some washing up?” And, “Oh yeah, ok, I’ll do some washing up”. Got out there and started getting into this thing. I wasn’t feeling too good when we

144 got in there, started washing up and after ten or fifteen minutes, I was starting to feel really elevated, just doing this, and I suppose that was something that moved me on … So at every possible opportunity for the next few months I would be down there, putting a hand in and doing washing up … And over a six-, seven-month period I finally decided to do this Intensive [weekend workshop].

Tony identifies the experience of washing dishes at the ashram as somehow having ‘elevated’ his mood which after some time ‘moved’ him to do a weekend Intensive. Tony seems to have been able to move at his own pace and choose the level of his involvement. The structure of the ashram seemed to allow a visitor to volunteer at practical levels such as helping with dishes. Offering newcomers the opportunity to help with the dishes was, for participants, a common introduction to Siddha Yoga’s concept of seva and presents a ‘foot in the door’ for further requests of service.

Tony’s involvement in the Melbourne ashram, while steady over many years, never prompted him to become a resident of an ashram nor visit India. However, many of those in this study who came across Siddha Yoga towards the end of the 1970s and early 1980s readily adopted some form of ashram living as part of their experience of getting more actively involved.

Ashram Life Individuals’ experience of ashram life varied in reference to the extent of time they spent living in the ashram and its location. Participants also experienced different versions of ashram life; that is, the experience of life in the India ashram, an American ashram or an Australian ashram. Daily schedules would have been similar among these ashrams, yet each would have its own particular qualities. Some participants in this study had experienced life in all the ashram locations mentioned above. Many of the participants’ experience of living in the India ashram were similar to those who travelled there in the early years. The primary reason many of the participants in this study gave for living in the ashram was to be around the guru. As Siddha Yoga gained in popularity during the early 1980s, those who visited India or America would have been surrounded by thousands of followers and visitors. The ashram in India was seen as authentic and looked upon as the ‘Mother Ashram’, and thus an attractive destination for those wishing to have an authentic ashram experience (especially so if the guru was

145 in residence). In discussing participants’ experience of ashram living in regard to India, it appeared that there were some things that had changed and some that remained the same. Elizabeth, who visited in 1970, and Jessica, who visited 10 years later, highlight these themes.

(Elizabeth) Baba would tell me to stop meditating and go work in the garden and then he gave me a job, writing down his talks … So he gave me various kind of jobs that required me to focus my mind so I wouldn’t be so out of it all the time … It was very strict discipline, ongoing, not a lot of free time … The chanting, waking up in the morning at, I think, 3 am; there would be a bell, we didn’t have to get up for meditation but we had to be at a morning prayer at about 4.30, then there would be tea and then there would be the morning Guru Gita, and we had to be there. And then there would be breakfast, and there would be a work period and then there would be a rest in the afternoon.

(Jessica) I was popped in garden seva for the first week, you know, sweeping leaves … Then [my sister and I] got put on making dosas. So we were the dosa girls. So we made all the dosas in the amrit every night. So I used to work very hard, I used to get up 1.30 on a Thursday morning and scrub the Nityananda temple with a rag and a little brush. And I used to think I was very special. And then I would go outside and do all the Rangoli patterns out the front of the ashram … And then you would go to get your chai, and then you would go to Guru Gita, and then you go back to have a rest. And then you start your dosa seva. And then you have some time off in the day.

The most striking difference between the two narratives is that, whereas in the early years Elizabeth experienced direct teachings and tasks from the guru, Jessica was directed to her work by what was called at that time a ‘seva captain’. Discipline and, as Elizabeth mentioned, ‘not a lot of free time’ was the shared experience of Elizabeth and Jessica. Although Elizabeth and Jessica were working hard, consistent with many of those in this study who went to India, their experience in the India ashram was regarded by them as a special time.

146 When interviewing Susan, while she remained bitter about her leaving Siddha Yoga two years previously (an issue which will be followed up in Chapter 9), she was at the same time not at all bitter about her experience of eight years in the India ashram: ‘Yeah, it was fantastic, best years of my life’.

Arjuna, who is now with Shanti Mandir, offered a good example of the continuing fondness many of the participants have when recalling their time in the India ashram.

(Arjuna) Oh my god, it was like Heaven … [It] was just like how I imagined living in a utopia would be, just the old ashram lifestyle, and it was, it is, it is just, I reckon it is the best, can’t wait [to get to Heaven].

It was not always clear to participants what made their experience in the India ashram so special. Whether the guru was there or not did not seem to matter. The participants appeared to enjoy the discipline, the routine, the camaraderie and most notably the immersion in an exotic culture.

Ashram life in Australia, after Muktananda’s final visit, may not have been as attractive to devotees as spending time with the guru or travelling to the India ashram. However, for those ‘newcomers’ to Siddha Yoga in Australia, the ashrams gave them the opportunity to immerse themselves in a local form of ashram life. Most of the devotees who were by this time being referred to as ‘old timers’ or, after Muktananda’s death, Gurumayi termed ‘good timers’ (because they were part of the early years), tended to visit their respective ashrams only sporadically. Although some, like Philip and Dan, became members of the board of directors of their respective ashrams, the ‘old timers’ in many respects became low-level participants in the routine of the ashram, and eventually non-participants.

Moving into the Ashram: ‘Ashramites’ Moving into an ashram did not appear to be a requisite for an individual’s increased involvement with Siddha Yoga. Even though many of those who visited Muktananda in India or America briefly lived in an ashram, it was generally as part of their visit. Whether to stay for days, weeks or a couple of months would depend on other commitments in the participant’s life. There were some in this study who appeared to

147 choose to become ‘ashramites’ (ashram residents) for extended periods (six months or more), who were committed to full- or part-time seva. The ashramites helped with the day-to-day running and upkeep of the ashram.

Sally, Harmony, Fredrick, Patricia, Ganesh, Angie, Lali, Shannon, Jessica, Cathleen, Ben, Arjuna and Susan all moved into an ashram within months of discovering Siddha Yoga. Only Angie had a young child who also lived with her at the ashram. Most of the others were single at the time, apart from Fredrick and Patricia whose partners also moved into the ashram.

(Patricia) Well, like, little by little. First we used to go to the evening classes and then I started doing Hatha Yoga and then eventually moved into the ashram.

(Fredrick) I think with each visit to programs and what not, it started to feel like it was, like to get topped up. It started to feel good, it is not that it became addictive. There were probably a few different sorts of elements or reasons why it sort of intensified. It did intensify and then eventually I moved into the ashram. I think it sort of increasingly drove a wedge between, you know, the ashram and my life, which was my life outside the ashram at that time, which I sort of started to reject, I suppose. And it was sort of encouraged by devotees, I think they were pretty open to the idea of people moving in there and experiencing, you know, full-time Sadhana [spiritual practices].

It appears that there was an acknowledgement of a separation between ashram life and ‘life outside’ which, in Fredrick’s case, resulted in the ‘outside’ being left behind for a time (the notion of ‘outside’ had already been acknowledged by Dan in Section 1). Patricia, like others, managed to keep her job ‘outside’, eventually saving enough money to travel to Ganeshpuri and to meet Muktananda. Fredrick and Patricia help to illustrate two opportunities presented around getting more involved through ashram life – those of full-time seva or ‘service’ and part-time seva. Siddha Yoga at this time appeared open to residents working either full-time or part-time for the ashram. Many of those who were full-time were on unemployment benefits, which enabled them to spend extended stays in the ashram. This was often at a reduced rate or free, due to their work for the ashram.

148

(Ganesh) ‘We were able to give a number of people who were willing to do full- time seva free food and board’

This situation was perhaps unique to the 1980s when people could live on unemployment benefits for extended periods of time without a great deal of difficulty. Perhaps this is why many of the people in this study who had become residents at the ashram were young, single and not at that time otherwise committed. Becoming a resident in the ashram could also be seen as a type of freedom and opportunity which is the domain of the young and unattached. At the time, young people like Fredrick, who lived full-time at the Sydney ashram, helped to expand the ashram from a residential home in Newtown to the much larger premises (a former institution for orphaned children) in Hurlstone Park, where the present Sydney ashram is located. These later devotees were following in the footsteps of earlier devotees, with the difference being that establishing and running large ashrams took more commitment and time from some followers than did the intimate household centres and informal satsang.

There were examples of individuals who gave over all their time to work for the ashram to the point where they were worn out, and yet others who experienced a relaxed period. In regard to individuals’ experience of living in an ashram, it is difficult to present as a single exemplar. To describe living in an ashram as being either highly demanding or being relaxing and therapeutic, would not be representative of the participants’ experience. Different people experienced different levels and intensity of activity. Those like Jessica, Shannon, Ben and Fredrick appeared to enjoy being active and working long hours at the ashram, mostly as it connected them to something spiritual. It appears that for these participants, working at the ashram was a way to relate to the practice of Siddha Yoga and be part of the Siddha Yoga community. Harmony revealed a different picture. During her time living in the Sydney ashram she was suffering from a neck injury which limited her seva contribution. Rather than recollecting the work she took part in at the ashram she shared her experience of community, especially at bedtime when she would say goodnight to all those around her. Harmony recalls the way her fellow ashramites would say goodnight as akin to the way it was said on the popular TV series The Waltons; and as one of the residents was named ‘John Boy’, she thought this was the nicest experience of her time living in the ashram. For Harmony, it was the

149 friendship or, as Shannon has termed it, ‘camaraderie’ which was important for her in regard to ashram life.

Puttick’s (1997) study of Osho has the subheading of ‘In Search of Community’. For many of the participants in this study, sharing their experience of Siddha Yoga Practice with others in the community appears as important as the experience itself. And sometimes the act of being in community with others was the experience.

Spiritual Names: What’s in a Name? Whether devotees moved into the ashram or sought some involvement by volunteering to do dishes, as highlighted by Tony, part of becoming more involved, for many of the participants in this study, was to take on a spiritual name.

(Patricia) It was a really big thing when you got your name, and when you did it, it felt like you really belonged.

Individuals who wanted a spiritual name were required to write to the guru, after which they would receive a letter containing their new name and its meaning. As Patricia recognised, the desire to belong was very strong. Whether it was through volunteering or taking on a spiritual name (or Indian name) there existed a desire to become a member of the community. However, there was also a desire to know one’s self. Participants enjoyed the meaning of their spiritual name and felt it said something about who they were.

An amusing incident in reference to spiritual names occured when one of the participants, David, was trying to remember a past member of Siddha Yoga so that I might contact him. He knew his regular name but, he said, ‘I just don’t know his stage name’. David made spiritual names sound like play names, making light of devotees’ taking on Indian names. Gurumayi, the present guru of Siddha Yoga, remarked in her magazine Siddha Path that Muktananda gave Indian names to Western devotees because he could not pronounce or remember their English names. It seems that, like the growth of Siddha Yoga, the use of spiritual/Indian names was something that developed between the guru and the Western followers. The names may have initially been for

150 practical purposes, yet over time, those like Patricia, who received her name in Australia by mail, ascribed to it another meaning, one of belonging.

Considering that many of the participants were young, travelling to India, living in ashrams and at times changing their names, it is appropriate to consider what their non- involved parents made of their involvement in Siddha Yoga.

Non-involved Parents Participants who spoke about their parents mostly realised they (their parents) had concerns about their involvement. Some, like Christine and Patricia, related their parents’ concern was only early on and then they grew to accept it.

(Christine) Initially, they were a bit concerned. When I came back and started playing the chants and playing my little cymbals and all that. But because they saw how I had changed, they were very happy.

(Patricia) Actually my mother initially was worried but she saw it was a change really for the better, like, she came along, and visited the ashram in Sydney, and so she wasn’t that worried.

Susan’s mother, however, never came to accept her daughter’s involvement, to the extent that she would stipulate in her will that Susan could not give any money to Siddha Yoga.

(Susan) My mother was totally horrified and thought that I was going to get brainwashed and stolen away. And I kept saying, “You know what I am like as a person. Have faith, because you know how bloody sensible I am, sensible, conscientious, reliable all that stuff. I am not going to get involved in something that is going to be dangerous to me”.

Jennifer’s father was also concerned and followed his daughter to America to see what was going on.

151 (Jennifer) My father was not the full quid, he was quite eccentric. He saw people bringing things, so he ripped this big plant from the front garden, took off his shoes, and walked down Santa Monica Boulevard, taking the mickey out of it. Shoes in one hand, plant in the other, “I’ve been to Guru centre, I’ve been to Guru centre”. And then I saw these swamis I knew and pretended that I didn’t see them, cause I was really embarrassed. But it was really funny, because I got to see things through my father’s eyes as well, as an onlooker … So I got a different reality check, through my father. And I thought that was quite healthy, to sort of get a different angle on things.

At times participants appreciated their parents’ concerns, and although the participants felt these were misplaced, they reported having attempted to relax their apprehensions. Both Jennifer and her brother David found their father’s concern and scepticism natural; however, David told his father if he wanted to have his children at home he would have to put up with some meditation and chanting from them, which he did.

Arjuna’s abusive home life presented an unusual situation. His mother was more concerned that the people at the ashram would find out about her behaviour than what involvement at the ashram might be doing to the children.

(Arjuna) She came along a couple of times to find out why my sister and I were there all the time. And I am pretty sure she would have been torn between being really happy not to have the kid in her hair and also worried about what we might be telling other people about what our home life was like.

Arjuna’s was perhaps a unique situation. He brought to light that small groups such as families can be as destructive or supportive as larger systems or organisations. The ashram may appear as a closed system to those outside it. But it is, prima facie, public and open to all-comers - unlike a family, which usually represents the private sphere. In Arjuna’s case, home became a place to escape from, rather than a place to retreat to. For Arjuna the ashram became his new family.

152 Although they voiced their parents’ concerns at the time they became involved in Siddha Yoga, most of the participants remained in regular contact with family during their time in Siddha Yoga.

Discussion

Participants’ active involvement in Siddha Yoga can be seen as diverse. Some chose to live for extended periods in ashrams while others had only sporadic involvement with the ashram and the guru. Siddha Yoga did not seem to have an expectation that every devotee would be a highly-engaged participant. The ashrams facilitated many levels of involvement or no involvement at all. It appears that the younger followers were more likely to become residents of ashrams and take on general staffing positions. Ashram life for most of the participants in this study was relatively short in duration (a few months) and generally undertaken as part of a visit to the guru. There were also those who lived in ashrams for many years. Elizabeth, Susan, Jessica, Dan and Shannon all spent many years living in an ashram. When interviewed, participants generally perceived their time lived in ashrams – whether that be years or weeks - in a positive light, especially those periods spent in the India ashram. Susan expressed living in the India ashram as the ‘best years of my life’. In general, participants’ experience of Siddha Yoga and participants’ experience of the India ashram, appear to be separately bracketed. Participants who had visited the India ashram and later moved away from Siddha Yoga still had a fondness for their India ashram experience. (This theme is also represented in the ex-Siddha yoga website.) This, however, is not to suggest that participants were pleased with all aspects of their experience of Siddha Yoga.

Focusing on the participants’ active involvement, especially the early devotees, has shed some light on the growth of a movement and the directions in which it has developed. The most obvious distinction, and one that was reiterated throughout this chapter, is that those who came later to Siddha Yoga discovered an established movement. Furthermore, what devotees discovered in the 1980s may not be familiar to those who today practice Siddha Yoga under the direction of Gurumayi.

The use of the term ‘active’ involvement, and focusing on participants’ role in the development of Siddha Yoga, is to recognise individuals’ personal agency in regard to affiliation or conversion in contrast to what may be considered the deviant perspective.

153 Lofland (1977, pp.816-817) advises students of conversion to consider individuals as active agents in their own conversion. ‘Deviant’ is here used in the functionalist sense, in that Siddha Yoga deviates from the predominant cultural or religious norms. This is not to imply that Siddha Yoga’s practices in themselves are deviant in its popular usage. Early psychological conceptualisations of conversion (James [1902]1979; Starbuck, 1897) payed limited attention to the convert as an active agent and chiefly considered conversion as a phenomenon that happened to a person, rather than as a process with which the person is actively involved (Albrecht & Cornwall, 1989, p.25).

James’ and Starbuck’s perspectives are important when considering conversion in relation to spiritual experience, which will be discussed in Chapter 8. Similarly, those who pursue the brainwashing thesis from a psychological perspective also fail to appreciate active agency. Rather than perceiving the individual as appearing to find a group attractive or actively seeking, many proponents of the brainwashing thesis consider the individual to have been recruited (Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Larsen & Larsen, 1997; Ward, 2000, 2002; Whitsett & Kent, 2003). From this perspective affiliation or conversion comprises exposure to coercive and destructive psychological techniques (Langone, 1995; Larsen & Larsen, 1997; Shaw, 2003; Tobias & Lalich, 1994). In the present study, participation has been seen to have been present in several levels of commitment, with further commitment to the belief system not necessarily leading to any substantial engagement beyond social interactions at a local centre. Some individuals’ connection to the guru may not have even extended to a connection with the organisation.

Tobias and Lalich (1994, 2004) argue that converts to NRMs may give up on their own life goals - career, education and relationships - for those of the new communities. This is a perspective that has also been presented by ex-members of movements, including Guest (2004) on the Rajneesh Movement, and Heftmann (1982) on the Moonies. It does seem that many of the participants in this study had at times either put aspects of their lives on hold or had given up significant time to work full-time for the movement. It must be acknowledged that those who perceive members of NRMs to be mere agents of the movement do have good evidence upon which to base this assertion. It is understood that members of movements do provide, at times, the free labour to build a movement and, as has been discussed, to develop and shape the movement. Overall, members of

154 movements, as Trompf (1990) has found, have logical expectations of what they may derive from participation. ‘For it simply remains true that different interpretations of the world become the premises on which highly varying, and sometime remarkably surprising, anticipations can be built’ (Trompf, 1990, p.71). In the case of participation in seva from the member’s perspective, this was a spiritual practice with an expectation of spiritual development. Hence, in regards to Trompf, it becomes logical to work for the group, and for some to work long hours. Even so, it does appear that participants had also gauged the type and amount of work they were willing to do for the movement. As has been shown in this study, there were some who sought positions of power in regard to becoming swamis and teachers of the movement. It must be appreciated that status was a consideration for some who became actively involved Siddha Yoga, which highlights the fact that experience of the movement is not as prescriptive as a brainwashing model may present (see also Guest 2004; Gordon 1988; and Puttick 1994 for issues of power struggles in the Rajneesh/Osho Movement).

In this study there was evidence that participants did appear to sustain personal agency in regard to life choices while within the movement. Unlike the emotive description of a pre cult persona ‘bound and gagged, locked up in a cage of fear’ by Lalich and Tobias (2006, p.48), those who became involved in Siddha Yoga have been seen to have chosen their intensity of involvement. This is not to say that some participants in hindsight may have felt different about their experience or time spent on the movement’s activities, however, this will be explored in a following chapter on moving away from the group. Of course it could appear that devotees changing their names to Indian names or what they describe as ‘spiritual names’ may highlight Lalich and Tobias’ (2006) concept of a cult personality. It is difficult to assess from the data in this study if individuals’ personalities changed pre and post affiliation with Siddha Yoga, although considering the perspective of Interactionalists such as Mead and Goffman ([1959] 1976) it would be unusual for a person to have a single persona presented to the world. The presentation of self seems from this perspective to be contingent on the context, not on brainwashing (Fook, 2002, pp.74-76). Individuals tend to act appropriately to a situation, therefore individuals may act differently in an Indian NRM, and this may be appropriate in that context. Certainly some of the participants confessed they had changed in some way, and that they began to meditate, chant, live or visit ashrams and also travelled the world to be with their guru.

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It is not surprising that parents of the participants in this study were concerned about their children, especially their new behaviours. Many of the anti-cult movement are, or at least began as, concerned parents of children in movements. For these parent groups the work of Lalich and Tobias (2006), Langone (1995) and Hassan (1990, 1998) has been influential in promoting a brainwashing and mind-control models of affiliation to NRMs as an explanation for their children’s or loved ones’ behaviour. In regard to informing parents of their children’s behaviour it seems the brainwashing and mind- control literature is only partially helpful and may at times be unhelpful, depending on the group with which an individual is involved.

Conclusion This and the previous chapter have focused for the most part on process and structure, yet have dealt with very little in reference to beliefs, practices or spiritual/metaphysical aspects. Now that the ground has been laid, the following chapters will focus on what are probably the missing elements in regard to understanding the motives behind visiting the guru or spending time in an ashram. The following chapter will introduce the spiritual life and experiences of the members’ during their involvement in Siddha Yoga.

156 Chapter 8

Spiritual Life ‘Sadhana’

(Thomas) ‘He never said, “Do your Guru Gita”. Or anything. Later generations he did. But to me, he didn’t say anything. “Don’t do anything, you have Shaktipat”, he said. “The Shakti will be looking after you.”

One of the major themes in this study of being involved in Siddha Yoga was the inner life or spiritual life of the members. The presentation and discussion of participants' spiritual life in this chapter furthers the exploration of attractions to Siddha Yoga Practice presented in Chapter 6 and life changes presented in Chapter 7 and therefore additionally informs the first and second of my research questions. The use of the term ‘spiritual life’, or what in Siddha Yoga is referred to as Sadhana, is an attempt to bring together those aspects of the participants’ experiences which, for them, were separate from what many of the participants have termed ‘outside’ or the ‘world’. Therefore a distinction is acknowledged by participants between a spiritual life and a worldly life, which reflects Durkheim’s (1915, p.52) dichotomy of ‘the sacred’ and ‘the profane’. Although the concept of an ‘outside’ does appear to create at times an antagonism to the world, participants also reported ‘the Shakti’ or spiritual energy to have been working in their worldly or daily lives. Most devotees of Siddha Yoga and the participants in this study lived in ‘the world’, as was reported in Chapter 7, with only short periods of residing in or visiting ashrams and centres. Spiritual life in this study therefore takes into account: • Meeting the Guru • Understanding the Guru • The Experience of Shaktipat or Kundalini Awakening • Spiritual Experiences

Because this chapter explores two separate yet related experiences of the participants’ spiritual life – namely, the guru and their experience of the spiritual - I have found it helpful to incorporate two discussions. The first discussion follows the two sections ‘Meeting the Guru’ and ‘Understanding the Guru’, while the second and related discussion concerns the participants’ experience of Shaktipat and spiritual experience.

157 .

The following two sections present and discuss the participants’ experience of the guru in a Siddha Yoga Practice. The first section explores the participants’ experiences of meeting the guru while the second explores the ways in which the participants have gained an understanding of the guru.

Meeting the Guru He was so evolved it was frightening. He could look at you and you knew he was reading your very soul. (Gordon)

Meeting the guru was the most common theme in relation to Sadhana expressed by those in this study who became involved with Siddha Yoga. Most of those who became more actively involved in the group travelled to Ganeshpuri or America to meet Muktananda and, after his death, Gurumayi and Nityananda.

Muktananda, from the accounts of those in this study who met him, was found to be charismatic and, for some, god-like. As will later be discussed, the guru was often regarded as the grace-bestowing power of god and for many participants in this study, this power or energy was palpable. When Shannon first met Gurumayi at the India ashram she acknowledged the guru’s charismatic presence and to some extent the omniscience of the guru.

(Shannon) Well, I stood in the darshan line and um, she seemed, kind of really larger than life … I was sort of overwhelmed that I’d found something and that she’d found me … So, she just seemed really beautiful. She was very beautiful and I think that was quite intoxicating, and the whole scene, the whole, you know, everyone in saris and in that beautiful marble courtyard and the incense wafting through and tropical flowers everywhere. Um … the chanting was really intoxicating. So, and when I met her I just cried all the time. I was just a blubbering mess.

In highlighting the guru’s charismatic appeal, Shannon also brought to attention those features that may contribute to this appeal. Shannon acknowledged the attractiveness of

158 Gurumayi and the environment of the India ashram, including those which were highlighted in Chapter 6, such as exotic smells and colour. Shannon had moved away from Siddha Yoga two years prior to the interview, yet she was still unable to completely understand why she had become ‘a blubbering mess’. Moving away is an issue that will be explored in Chapter 9.

Many of the participants discussed experiencing an energy coming from the guru. The energy in the context of Siddha Yoga is often discussed in terms of Shakti or the guru’s Shakti. Some participants, even though they did not know the guru was near them, believed they could feel the presence or Shakti of the guru.

(Greg) Baba was like this force field and I just felt like whoo! … Even with my eyes closed I felt I could determine when it was Baba walking past.

(Mark) I was just sitting there, and just got overwhelmed with this sort of wave of energy, and Baba came into the room and he seemed to be aware of it. He was sort of looking and me and sort of laughing.

Greg related that, even with his eyes closed, he could sense the energy of the guru. Like other participants in this study, Greg would experiment with sensing Muktananda’s energy, as if he wanted to prove to himself that what he felt was real. Arjuna would collect the water from a bucket that Muktananda had washed his hands in and would give it to friends to drink without telling them what it was, to see if they experienced the energy or Shakti that he sensed when he drank the water. Arjuna said that they would say to him, “Whoo, what was that?”

(Arjuna) I wanted to know what was so different. There was only one explanation. I just thought, Wow! he is a very powerful being.

Like Mark, many participants considered that the guru was aware of them. There was often an expectation that the guru would welcome them on their arrival, and that he would say, as Sally reported, “You’ve come, welcome, you’ve come”.

159 (Jennifer) He just peered down his glasses, and then this beautiful big smile, and it was like in that moment, he recognised me, he knew everything about me, he knew all the trials and tribulations.

When Robert related his first experience of meeting Muktananda in the India ashram he discussed how Muktananda had ignored him as he bowed before him during darshan (the meeting with the guru). A similar experience was told by Ganesh and Nicole. These experiences of being ignored were often interpreted or presented in the interviews as part of the mysterious way of the guru. After Robert had darshan with Muktananda he went across the road from the ashram to a chai shop and had dinner with a fellow Australian devotee, who reassured Robert that he had been ‘seen’.

(Robert) He said, “Oh Baba saw you”. And he was very calm this guy, he had been around for a long time. He said, “Don’t worry, Baba would have absolutely seen you and seen who you were. Don’t even doubt it for a moment. He knew who you were. He touched you, nobody else. He might have looked away, that split second before you looked up, but he saw you. He probably saw you before.” I believed him; he was, like, a very sober guy. We became very good friends.

Some participants did initially seem to struggle psychologically when considering their relationship with the guru. At times, devotees would help each other to understand or resolve conflicting emotions or doubts around the guru. Although discussing issues with other devotees would relieve doubts, especially with those who had been around a long time, as Robert had, it seems that participants’ inner experience or spiritual experience also tended to facilitate the resolution of doubts and the guru’s role in their life.

(Krishna) I thought, What am I doing here? I am worshipping some dude. It just brought up everything, all the negativity … I just wanted to pay my respects and go. So when I reached the chair and I got introduced to Baba, by Shankarananda, he said, “Sydney, Australia.” And then I looked up and Baba looked down and there was this piercing, and then I disappeared for three days … It was amazing ‘cause everything disappeared in the hall, everything was really peaceful, the musicians were quiet, the voices were quiet. He just transported me to another

160 place where I could just handle it where I was in a really nice way … So I stayed for six months.

Like others in this study Krishna felt the initial experience of being around the guru exhilarating, emotionally intense and confusing. Eventually Krishna came to terms with his ‘negativity’ in reference to the worship of, as he said, ‘some dude’. Much of what Krishna regarded as ‘negativity’ was in relation to his conversations with other devotees who had no apparent difficulty in accepting Muktananda as their guru. (Whether they actually did cannot be confirmed from the interviews.) Krishna was aware that he was resisting the relationship with the guru. His experience of disappearing after the piercing stare from Muktananda seemed to also make his negativity and resistance dissolve. By contrast, Greg, who like many others experienced powerful energy from the guru, spent years considering his relationship with the guru.

(Greg) That became my question, What is the guru? And what is my relationship to him?… I said, “Baba, how do I know if you are my true guru?” and Nityananda, young Nityananda, was translating … Nityananda said, “He wants to know, how do I know if you are my true disciple?” And, I didn’t have an answer … I was completely blank. And then Baba moved forward in his chair, and he put his glasses on the end of his nose and said, “Now we work it out between us, you and me” … And that’s what I needed to hear.

Participants appeared to actively consider the role of the guru, especially in relation to their own lives. Some felt it important to be physically near the guru, while others were not overly interested in the physical guru but did acknowledge an inner guru. For these, the inner guru was more important than what was considered the outer form. This inner guru for most participants seemed to represent their inner self.

(Susan) My relationship with the guru was always more about the inner guru. I was never one of these people that went after the guru. I couldn’t stand that at all.

For many participants the physical guru was a manifestation in flesh of the inner guru or inner self. However, some participants, like Patricia and Sally, did not relate to the guru at all. They reported being interested in the practice of meditation, the chanting or the

161 general environment of the ashram. The guru was, therefore, an important aspect to many of the participants’ spiritual experience, but not to all.

There was a minority in this study who did not experience energy from the guru in a phenomenological sense. That is, they experienced neither the palpable energy nor the omniscience reported by others. These participants are interesting in that they go against the general consensus. For this reason, they present a different perspective which helps to give a better picture of participants’ experience of the guru.

(Patricia) Oh, well it was, I anticipated, I was really looking forward to it and a little nervous, but it wasn’t like a great spiritual awakening or anything like that. It wasn’t anything … I remember him saying to me my name, my Indian name that I got was Muktabai, and he is Muktananda, and when he met me he said, “You have got the same name as me.” And I went, “Yeah”… It was no big deal. I think I was more into the practices than the guru. Like the guru was a big thing, but for me I really think I was into the practices more than the guru.

(Sally) I actually asked Malti [Gurumayi] if I could meet Muktananda because I thought he would come up and say to me, “You’ve come, welcome, you’ve come.” And he didn’t, so I asked, and she said, “Sure.” And I was asked into his compound and he came up, I hugged him and there was just no energy there between us. But it wasn’t a bad thing, it was just okay.

It appeared that both Patricia and Sally had some expectation of what they would experience when they met Muktananda. They had both become involved with Siddha Yoga during the early 1980s and may have heard stories or ‘experience talks’ of others who had met the guru. Patricia acknowledged that she did not have ‘a great spiritual awakening’, and Sally, to some extent, wondered why the guru had not noticed that she had come. This experience of Patricia and Sally’s highlights the built-up expectation some participants had of meeting the guru.

Whether those who eventually moved away from Siddha Yoga regarded the guru as an important aspect of their experience will be explored in a later chapter on moving away from Siddha Yoga.

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This section has presented the participants’ experience of meeting the guru. Participants have highlighted their experience of the guru’s charismatic presence and, at times, this was in the form of palpable energy. For others, the guru’s presence did not live up to their expectations. There was also an acknowledgment of the guru as an inner experience. The following section further explores participants’ experiences and understanding of the guru. A strong theme in regards to individuals’ understanding is the use of mainly Judeo-Christian analogies to convey participants’ experience of the guru.

Understanding the Guru Muktananda very openly recognised Jesus as a wonderful saint. (Edith)

Participants have experienced the guru in different ways, varying from simply a teacher to an omnipresent being. Like most aspects of their Siddha Yoga experience, they tended to build their understanding from past and present experience which included the teachings of the movement (commonly the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism). A major theme in understanding the guru comes from the participants’ mainly Judeo-Christian upbringing. Most of the participants in this study came from practising Christian households, with five from secular Jewish backgrounds. Greg was one of three participants to have come from a Christian fundamentalist background. In Chapter 6 he discussed his moving away from Judeo-Christian forms of religious practice as a way to describe what he found attractive about Siddha Yoga. However, in discussing the guru he turned to analogies from his Christian background, especially ideas of Jesus.

(Greg) I couldn’t work out from what people were telling me, what was true. I mean, people were saying wacky things. And I decided, well, if half of it was true, and I had experienced something myself. I thought, well, if half of it is true, if Jesus Christ was alive on the planet now, I would want to meet him, and if this man is anything like, has anything like the power of Jesus Christ, I want to meet him.

As a teenager Greg had had what he regarded as a spiritual experience during a Pentecostal meeting, and therefore considered that he knew something of the sensations

163 involved in spiritual experience. Bruce also experienced a sensation or the power of ‘the spirit’ at a Billy Graham revival meeting in the 1960s.

(Bruce) Went and saw Billy Graham and I was moved by the spirit, I really was. I jumped up … he filled the MCG, record crowd, 120,000 or something … He was someone who could make Christ alive and real.

Although Bruce was moved by the experience he never became a member of Billy Graham’s church. Bruce said that, when he got down to the front to accept Jesus, ‘there was no one there to greet me.’ As we talked about his concept of the guru, Billy Graham was one of the analogies Bruce would use when discussing Muktananda who, like Billy Graham, was able to make the spirit ‘alive and real’.

(Bruce) When I think of Baba I can feel much more substantial about the fact that I am in dialogue with the Lord.

Angie made a connection between what she had experienced through meeting Muktananda and what she understood of the life of Jesus.

(Angie) After meeting Baba it sort of made me realise that Jesus was probably similar to Baba. He was an extremely charismatic person. I actually read The Mystical Life of Jesus … And then I looked at what he used to say, “I am the way, I am the light.” Which is exactly what the Indian gurus say of all of us, “’I am’ is the ‘way’, and the ‘I am’ is the ‘light’”. But they interpret it so it was only him and all the sheep had to follow him. Whereas Baba didn’t say that. He said, “It dwells within you”. And so did Jesus, he said, “The kingdom of God dwells within you”.

Fredrick also noted the relationship between the concept of the guru and Jesus and highlighted that Siddha Yoga tended to actively make that connection.

(Fredrick) Well they’d often flag the idea of ‘enlightened beings’ through the ages … Jesus and Mohammad and Buddha and all these other religious figures and then by extension I suppose bump the gurus in there … It was sort of well, yeah, if there is Jesus Christ then therefore there might be the guru in that sense.

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Fredrick considered that for somebody like himself, who was brought up in a non- practising Catholic household, it was not a radical leap to consider a ‘god-like man’ present in the world. Although he did recognise that it was difficult, also because of his Catholic upbringing, to consider the guru as ‘on par with Christ’.

(Fredrick) I suppose in a way you couldn’t see the whole guru thing as on true par with Christ … It is a bit of a contradiction or a paradox, even though you kind of accept that someone like [old] Nityananda might be, have completely attained this state of, you know, self-realisation, it is still somewhere, because of that Christian upbringing … that it can never be quite equal to Christ.

When Harry was describing a spiritual pilgrimage around India with Muktananda he also used an analogy of Jesus. His use of a Jesus analogy led me to ask him whether he had been brought up a Christian. He told me he was Jewish and reminded me that Jesus was too.

(Harry) Thousands of people streamed into the town and it was all going off because it was like, they were just trying to touch the ground he walked on. It was like Jesus. It was just a dirt road, could have been a thousand years ago so it was totally, like biblical …

Harry was educated in a Christian school and said that he was influenced by their perspective, although he did consider the Jesus story a Jewish story.

In the understanding of Siddha Yoga, when Swami Muktananda died he was considered to have taken Mahasamadi, which is, to merge permanently into the infinite or divine consciousness. In a similar vein to participants’ understanding of Jesus, he is not regarded as dead but as having no physical body, thus he could be thought of as spirit. Some of the participants in this study were living in the India ashram when he died. Krishna travelled to India as soon as he heard the news of Muktananda’s death.

(Krishna) There was amazing energy there in that ashram. It was just like Baba had just dissipated into every pore of that place, you just step into the ashram and

165 go into bliss … With this transition with Baba, many of us had this experience of, ‘Baba’s really now in our hearts.’ We were walking round with these ‘Baba lamps’ within us, and it was so … profound.

The imagery Krishna brings to Muktananda’s death is reminiscent of Christian iconography. Jesus, Mary and other saints are often presented with glowing hearts shining like lamps. Krishna’s notion that the guru lived on in devotees’ hearts as ‘Baba lamps’ highlights Muktananda’s death as a transition towards a new understanding of what the guru is to the follower. For Angie, although she was at the time of the interview a follower of Nityananda, Muktananda was still very much alive for her.

(Angie) Even though I didn’t have the huge amount of physical contact, he was always so alive within me, and is today. His presence is very alive for me.

Discussion Many studies of NRMs describe the leaders as charismatic. According to Weber (1965), the guru or cult leader would have a charismatic form of legitimate authority. For Weber, the statement attributed to Jesus, ‘It is written … but I say unto you’, is the core of the charismatic leader’s approach to the established authorities or traditions (Lindholm, 1990, p.29). That is, the charismatic leader acknowledges how others have seen the world but offers a new interpretation (Lindholm, 1990; Weber, 1968). Weber (1968, p.51) asserts that ‘the genuine prophet, like the genuine military leader and every true leader in this sense, preaches, creates, or demands new obligations’. Rambo (1993, p.85) acknowledges that the individual’s encounter with the group’s leader can have a ‘powerful effect on the potential convert’. Rambo (1993, p.85) also notes that this encounter is an ‘interactional phenomenon’ which is dependent on expectation by both leader and follower. For Weber, it is the obligation of the follower to recognise the charismatic qualities in the leader (Weber, 1968, p.51). To a great extent those in this study who travelled to meet the guru, had certainly built-up expectations of what they might experience. Many of the participants had heard experience talks by devotees, watched videos, read books and discussed the guru and Siddha Yoga topics with other devotees.

166 The context in which participants met the guru was in the most part not within the control of the participant, who generally waited in long lines and many had travelled long distances. Even the ashrams or centres in Australia would have presented an unfamiliar environment to most visitors. Nevertheless, it is interesting that the participants had experienced palpable energy emanating from the guru, or that the guru had a sometimes confusing effect on participants’ own psychological and physical states. In general, though, the effects on participants’ own psychological and physical states were perceived as positive.

There was an expectation of what the participants may experience from reports they had heard from others. This was made clear by Patricia and Sally’s surprise that their meeting with the guru was not particularly eventful. As Greg stated, ‘if this man is anything like, has anything like the power of Jesus Christ, I want to meet him’. Like many others in this study, Greg had heard stories of the guru and was keen to meet him. Most of the participants did have what they regarded as a spiritual experience through their meeting with the guru. The nature and general content of the experiences appeared to reflect Lofland and Skonovd’s (1981, p.377) motif of mystical conversion or that of religious experience presented in James’ (1979) ‘Varieties of Religious Experience’. Mystical conversion and James’ research will be considered in the final discussion of this chapter, following the presentation of findings on spiritual experience.

The participants gained an understanding of the guru in different ways and some appeared to build an understanding from a Siddha Yoga perspective and the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism. The guru within the tradition of Siddha Yoga and that of Kashmir Shaivism is considered as the grace bestowing power of god (Singh, 1990, p.26). From the point of view of Shiva Sutras, when a yogi achieves the highest state he/she becomes Shiva, or god. And once this state is achieved the guru or Sadguru (perfect guru), becomes an instrument of knowledge and the universe is filled with his/her Shakti, energy (Singh, 1982, pp.186-195). This is consistent with the notion of guru consciousness in the Siddha Yoga tradition. Thus, the guru becomes a very important aspect of Siddha Yoga Practice. From the perspective of Siddha Yoga, that which participants report experiencing as palpable energy would be considered the guru’s Shakti. Although most of the participants were familiar with some concepts from Kashmir Shaivism (if only the concept of grace; see Singh, 1990, pp.68-69) they also

167 used Judeo-Christian analogies in forming an understanding of the guru and the guru’s Shakti.

When Muktananda gave a lecture at the Abbotsleigh girls’ school in Sydney in 1974, he used a Christian analogy to get his message across to the students. ‘Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven lies within the heart of man. If you meditate you should be able to see or reach this kingdom very easily’ (Muktananda, 1975, p.157). Muktananda was not, of course, the first of the Indian gurus to use analogy from Christianity to teach aspects of Hinduism. Yogananda, of the Self-Realisation Fellowship, had been adapting Christianity into his own teachings of yoga since the 1950s (Yogananda, 2000).

Participants in the current study appeared to find the analogy of guru with Jesus a way to understand the concept of guru. As Fredrick highlighted, to a certain point using Jesus as an analogy of what the guru may be fails to appreciate the Christian notion of Jesus as being one of a kind. Even so, knowledge of Jesus opens up the notion or possibility for participants that a ‘god-like man’ could be walking on earth. Therefore, belief in a ‘god-like man’ is already part of the Western tradition and not an alien concept imported by Indian gurus. The Indian gurus and movements appear to be aware of this at some level and have used the example of Jesus and Christian saints to tell Hindu stories (De Michelis, 2004; Sinclair-Brull, 1997). In Siddha Yoga’s magazine publications, Siddha Path and Darshan, there have been numerous articles over the years on Christian saints.

The analogy of the guru to Jesus appears to have assisted the participants in this study to integrate the new concept by using the old. In relation to the notion of psychological schemas (representations of their understanding of the world), knowledge of the guru may have become integrated into their existing schema of Jesus. It is clear that Jesus has been a prototype for many New Religious Movements, albeit mostly Christian- orientated groups (Reverend Moon, David Koresh, and Jim Jones among others). Although it may surprise some to find Jesus analogies in an Eastern guru-disciple tradition, this fact does give insight into the ways participants have understood their experience and how they integrated their experience into their own worlds.

168 Although in the previous chapter I proposed that participants have contextualised their prior mystical or spiritual experiences in the context of Siddha Yoga, mystical or religious experience is regarded by some philosophers of religion as mediated by beliefs and knowledge from the individual’s cultural and religious perspective (Katz, 1983; Gimello, 1983; Proudfoot, 1985). This is known as the constructivist perspective. Katz (1983) claims not only that the mystical or spiritual experience is understood or gains context after the event, but also that the experience itself is shaped by previous beliefs and concepts (Forman, 1999, p.38). Katz (1983, pp.4-5) proposes that Christians have Christian-oriented mystical experiences, Buddhists have Buddhist-oriented mystical experiences and so on. In the case of the Western followers of an Indian religious tradition in this study, their prior knowledge of the spiritual was commonly framed and contextualised within a Western Christian perspective. Therefore, from a constructivist perspective, their experience of the guru may have been mediated through that spiritual and cultural background. Katz (1983, p.11) highlights that a Christian’s mystical experience historically relates to a personal experience with a loving god, or more precisely with the beloved (the beloved being Jesus) in a personal and close relationship. When many of the participants discussed their experience of the guru, it had also been in the sense of a close personal loving relationship. The guru is what many of the participants had formed the relationship with, not usually a faceless god, organisation, or abstract notion of consciousness. To some extent, these participants have understood their experience of the guru through their prior religious and cultural backgrounds and, furthermore, this construction appeared to have been reinforced by the use of Christian analogies in Siddha Yoga teachings. However, the use of Christian analogies by participants may not be so surprising given their knowledge of different spiritual/religious traditions may have been limited at the time of their initial involvement. This would, of course, had changed as they learned more about Siddha Yoga throughout their involvement. Nonetheless, these Christian analogies were important explanatory narratives in the interviews, even many years after their initial experience of the guru and also after participants incorporated Siddha Yoga concepts into their worldview.

Forman (1999, p.43), arguing against a constructivist notion of mystical experience, asserts that beliefs, concepts and expectations may shape some experiences, but not all people have mystical or spiritual experiences and, thus, it is not clear that there is a

169 causal connection. Although participants in this study may have had an expectation of a mystical experience in their meeting the guru, not all did and, conversely, some with no expectation or religious knowledge of Siddha Yoga did have an experience. For Forman (1999), there is some mystical experience that is essential and is therefore not mediated by culture. Howell (1998, p.148) also argues that there are non-mediated forms of mystical experience such as ‘loss of awareness of self or separate identity’, ‘lightness of body’ or ‘the awareness of a light’ which do not seem to be culturally shaped. I would argue, however, that how individuals are able to discuss these experiences and integrate them into their existing schema is commonly shaped by their culture or religious traditions.

In the discussion at the end of this chapter I will further discuss participants’ spiritual experiences. The section immediately below explores participants’ spiritual life in Siddha Yoga by presenting findings on Shaktipat and spiritual experience. Participants’ spiritual experiences of Shaktipat have been seen at times to have a direct connection with the guru; therefore, some of the findings presented in the next section overlap and relate to the previous section on participants’ understanding of the guru in Siddha Yoga Practice.

Shaktipat I remember sitting there and we were chanting, and he looked at me and I felt like he had shot a star or something and it hit into my heart like a fire, like a beautiful feeling. It was just incredible. (Nicole)

The ways in which participants’ spiritual life or Sadhana began to be manifested was usually through Shaktipat from the guru. Through touch, thought or dreams, participants had what they perceived as a spiritual awakening initiated by the guru. This, in the Siddha Yoga tradition, is Shaktipat, the awakening of the Kundalini, often regarded as a descent of grace. There were also those, referred to in Chapter 6, who had a spiritual awakening outside of the tradition of Siddha Yoga and, in hindsight, regarded that awakening as their Shaktipat experience. However, for most participants, even those who were actively seeking, their first experience of Shaktipat was through their contact with Siddha Yoga or the guru.

170 When James (1979) presented personal narratives of religious experiences in his 1902 lectures, he offered what, he felt, were important and lengthy concrete examples. James (1979, p.115) asserts, ‘I read you these cases without comment - they express so many varieties of the state of mind we are studying’. Following James’ example, participants’ narratives in reference to their experience of Shaktipat and the following section on spiritual experience are presented in lengthy sections. Those in this study who had what they regarded as powerful experiences, and were willing to speak about them, gave concrete examples of the phenomenon of Shaktipat.

When Christine first met Muktananda in the early 1970s, he was travelling around India on a Yatra or spiritual pilgrimage with some of his devotees from his India ashram. Christine joined Muktananda in a small village not far from the ashram.

(Christine) I recall, when first meeting him, he was giving a talk but it was in Hindi or Marathi … I was the only Westerner in the audience with him. And then our eyes met, my legs locked into lotus [a yoga posture], and I felt the energy rise up and explode through my head. And then everything was made of particles of light … everything - human, animate, inanimate, everything was made up with the particles of light. So of course, I was totally transformed by that … At the end, when the meeting had broken up, I couldn’t of course get up, and Muktananda called me up, and whacked me on the back, and laughed and said, “Australia”. And then sent me off on my merry way, and then I was just surrounded by a sea of Indians and all congratulating me, and saying, “You must write and tell your friends, and parents”.

Christine’s experience of perceiving everything as light is a common theme in regard to Shaktipat. Others also described being ‘locked’ into a yogic posture, and the phenomenon of energy rising in the body. The next passage, by Ganesh, elaborates on some of the elements presented by Christine.

(Ganesh) ‘It was like a light went straight out of his eyes right into mine. It was like an eruption occurred, really really low in my spine. It was like I was having an earthquake or standing on a piece of land that was having a severe earthquake. I started shaking, my whole body started shaking, and there was sort of like, I was

171 resisting, resisting, resisting, and there was sort of like this huge ball of energy started spiraling around down there and just went ‘pow!’ and sort of shot up my spine, exploded out through my head and took me with it. I went straight up into some sort of cosmic, I don’t know, netherworld and experienced I don’t know what, some unbelievable, excruciatingly beautiful understanding of life and who I was and what I was supposed to be doing and it was just, you couldn’t shoe on another piece of joy in me if you tried … I just sort of said, “Yes, God, thank you.” It was like, “Thank you, thank you, thank you”… And then gradually I sort of returned into my body and I opened my eyes and Baba was whacking me really hard with feathers … and I started sort of disappearing again into this wonderful blue mist of this parallel reality of joy and I just couldn’t believe what was going on and, furthermore, I was totally immobile. I just sort of, I lost total command of all my abilities to think or reason or to know where I was, or I was just experiencing the moment of this wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful feelings of joy that I had always wanted to have and of course the next minute somebody, two bulky blokes picked me up and started walking me, helping me out … They took me all the way into the courtyard and stuck a Mars bar in my mouth, which brought me down into the material reality of some sort of consensus with everybody else who was sitting there next to me who were having a Mars bar as well … We were all sitting there with Mars bars,[wondering] “Oh, god, what happened?”

Ganesh had experienced Shaktipat through the guru’s look. The guru also used peacock feathers to, as Ganesh stated, ‘whack’ him over the head. Similar to Ganesh, Cathleen was carried away after meeting Muktananda and as she sat she had what she described as a ‘textbook experience’ of Shaktipat.

(Cathleen) They pulled me off to the side and I sat in an incredible meditation posture and I lost consciousness to the world completely, and I was locked inside and I had a Shaktipat experience, like a textbook experience, which I now know, then I knew not. Because it was all new to me and what happened was, I sensed myself becoming huge, and I was inside and something was happening right down at the root of the, this temple, my body. And it was at the bottom of this, like concrete, it was like concrete in a root. You know how the tree roots come through the ground and it was cracking, cracking, cracking, and out through the crack

172 came this root and it didn’t stop at the root, it suddenly flared up and it became a cobra and it eyeballed me, and it was staring at me like this, and then it changed from a cobra into a lotus bud. A big dark red lotus bud on a long stalk. So it is the same shape as the cobra. And it looked at me, this beautiful deep red four-petaled lotus, and it communicated at some level that this is your potential. And then when I understood that, it faded out and into this temple which was my body, became an iridescent blue … It was filled with miniscule, miniscule, atomic life and, um, it was blue iridescent, extremely radiant blue. And I found my self, midpoint, around where the heart is, and there, sitting amongst this blue light, was a blue lotus and it had twelve petals, I remember distinctly, and it was open like this, it was wide open and it communicated to me that everything is consciousness, everything. And this lotus is made of consciousness, like everything is, this and this and this is consciousness. It just has happened to be in the form of something, and it is in the form of this lotus and that this represented the heart and that the heart needs to be open. And when I understood that, I found myself rising up here to the top of the body. (She pointed to the top of her head.)

Like Ganesh and Christine, Cathleen acknowledged that she could not move during the experience, she was ‘locked inside’. Cathleen also continued the theme of energy rising and, similar to Ganesh’s notion of an earthquake, described the energy breaking through concrete. The image of a cobra, as Cathleen described as a ‘textbook experience’ of Shaktipat, relates to her acquired knowledge of her experience after the event through others in Siddha Yoga and books on the subject of the Kundalini.

The experience of Shaktipat was not limited to being in the presence of the physical guru; there were those who considered they received Shaktipat in a dream of the guru.

(Lali) One night I had a dream of Baba. Like this came out of the blue, like I didn’t know anything much about him and I hadn’t even thought about him much … I hadn’t read the book yet … I kind of looked over and Baba just came marching in the door and I just put my head back down again and I felt something whacking me up my spine and not knowing what it was, even in my dream I didn’t know what it was, and it felt like he was hitting me … just hitting me with something gentle, and I looked over and he was just standing right there and he was just looking at me,

173 smiling, but in a very detached way. And so he just smiled at me and then he just walked off. And then, when I woke up the next day, I was like really … in a blissful state, compared to the state I had been in, which was sort of like a bit mixed up, sort of. I just started to do all these spontaneous movements. Like I think somehow it awakened my kundalini and in those days umm … people did a lot of physical kriyas. It seems to have changed now.

For Lali, Shaktipat appeared to have been initiated through her dream, after which she, like others in this study, experienced spontaneous abilities to do yoga postures during meditation. From participant narratives around their experience of Shaktipat, there is definitely a theme of ‘awakening’.

Nicole discovered Siddha Yoga at the same time she discovered Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). As she heard about Shaktipat from others in Siddha Yoga, she began to recognise that she had her own awakening, or Shaktipat experience, through AA.

(Nicole) I picked up a book called, How Bill Sees It. Bill himself had a Shaktipat experience. He described it ... And then, as I read it, there was something changing inside of me and I suddenly had knowingness or experience or feeling there was a higher power and then I started to act as it. I was walking through a park that was like a forest over at Lane Cove with a friend and, suddenly, it dawned on me, spontaneously, that within these plants and flowers and beautiful trees is energy, is a divine energy and it was within everything and I suddenly felt excited and happy.

Although Nicole did not describe the rising of energy through her body, she experienced a connection with the energy in all things that suddenly ‘dawned’ on her. Nicole’s sensation of a dawning appears consistent with the theme of awakening, which appears to be at the heart of the Shaktipat experience, for most participants.

The following section on spiritual experience continues a focus on participants’ spiritual life. After participants had received Shaktipat, whether in the presence of the guru or not, they continued for some time to have what they regarded as powerful spiritual experiences.

174 Spiritual Experiences It is very difficult to talk about spiritual things because it depends on where you are and where the other person is. (Michelle)

When participants discussed their spiritual experience it was often in relation to when they first began practising Siddha Yoga. It appears that the initial experience of Shaktipat and the subsequent meditation experiences were at their most active in the early years of the participants’ Sadhana or spiritual life.

(Elizabeth) Well, because I was having all these kind of kundalini, extraordinary energy experiences, there would be this feeling, like there would be this eruption inside, a very strong emotion, shifting of a very strong emotion, and sometimes I would get very sick, like a high fever, the energy going through my body, and would cause spontaneous movements, and then I never knew what was going on, and then later it would settle down and the next day I would be okay. A lot of the time, because the meditation was so intensive and kind of had its own course, it really just seemed to be happening for me. A lot of the time I was a bit disoriented and didn’t know what was going on. Really, I remember a period of a number of months I didn’t know if I had washed my clothes, and at that point, I have seen that now in other meditators, being a teacher of meditation, I would see it … very ungrounded.

Elizabeth acknowledged that, during the early years of her Sadhana, she was ‘very ungrounded’. When I interviewed her she was still practising meditation. She was a Buddhist nun. Elizabeth regarded many of her early experiences as important, though not necessary for spiritual evolution. Spiritual experience was no longer a focus of her practice. She did, however, appear to enjoy reminiscing about them.

Philip, who was also still practising and teaching meditation when I interviewed him, appeared also to enjoy reminiscing on his early spiritual experience in Siddha Yoga.

(Philip) I was walking back from the Melbourne hall to the dormitory hall where I lived and as I walked along I started to feel very good, in fact I felt so good I had never felt better in my life. I felt terrific, I was ecstatic, I was strong. I felt like a 175 powerful wild animal, happy as could be. Then I felt like I was growing taller, which was very strange, and so I looked up I was going to hit my head on the awning (Philip was referring to a shop awning on the street) and I didn’t, of course, I hadn’t grown any taller. So I stopped on the street, and as I stopped suddenly there was a big explosion of energy inside of me and the whole thing pours out of all parts of my body and starts emanating in a circle around me for about two or three hundred metres … I felt like I became the rain, the streetlights, the garage, the tram lines and all that. And as I stood there, and I was absolutely ecstatic with this rapture of divine love all rolled into one. I stood there for 20 minutes and I thought, “this is amazing, this is it, I’ve got it, what I’m looking for.” I was in this transpersonal state, that state of consciousness. I had to get back into the dormitory house I was staying in to calm down. So I went to bed and when I woke up it had gone by the next morning. I started to have that experience a number of times, an expanded consciousness.

Lali was somewhat hesitant to discuss her spiritual experience. Unlike Elizabeth and Philip, at the time of the interview she had spent little time around other spiritually- minded people. Lali also reported that, in the past, when she did share her spiritual experience with others not involved in Siddha Yoga or another path of yoga, people would not understand what she was talking about, which at times isolated her from others in her work situation. Lali was very shy when she began to speak to me about her experiences.

(Lali) I am just going to say it as exactly as it was … It kind of scared me at first but it was like, umm … everything, one day, everything just looked blue, like literally, it was like a blue mist, and I looked at my arm and there was this like blue vapor coming out of me and I think that happened for a short while and then it went away. But it was sort of like, and I didn’t realise at the time, but I was sort of seeing the world as Shakti … I was sort of being possessed by something, ‘cause I, my eyes would just squeeze really tight and my mind would go completely blank … It wasn’t a voice that I heard, it was like coming out of me, and I wasn’t unconscious. I could hear. The thing that it would say, and it, over the years it has said it. Basically it says, “We are with you, we are with you”.

176 While Lali still practiced meditation and chanting and felt that the guru was always with her, she no longer visited an ashram or kept company with Siddha Yoga devotees.

For participants in this study, their early experiences of Shaktipat - which were usually in conjunction with meeting the guru - were the most important for them to express. The experience appeared to give them insight and awaken them into a new way of being in the world. The experiences for many of the participants appear to have subsided, although their new way of being in the world seems to have continued, which will be more fully explored in Chapter 10.

There were those in Siddha Yoga who did not have any spiritual experience at all, that is, in regard to visions or experiencing energetic phenomena in their bodies. Even so, they did appear to feel the energy or Shakti around Siddha Yoga and the guru. Many of the participants, although they said they had many spiritual experiences, did not go on to speak in any great detail about them. And, while they included general feelings of well- being and a connectedness to everything, these were not always of a visual nature more of a sensation. Possibly because participants had heard others’ ‘experience talks’ during satsang, they would say things like, ‘I didn’t see lights or anything like that’. Sally even discussed how she felt somewhat deficient in that she did not have mystical experiences. She thought that maybe she was not spiritual enough. To some extent, this affected Sally’s self-esteem while with Siddha Yoga.

Those who had dramatic experiences of Shaktipat or other spiritual experiences were more than happy to have – and would receive - an attentive audience at Siddha Yoga satsang.

The final and related theme to participants’ experience of Shaktipat and spiritual experience is that of their perceptions of how much they were changed by the experience at the time.

It was like night to day. (Christine)

Many of the participants reported their lives were changed in some way by their experience of Shaktipat. The changes expressed by some participants appeared to relate

177 to an instantaneous type of conversion. Ganesh recognised his change as being instantaneous and stereotypical of a Christian conversion.

(Ganesh) It was as if, in the cliché of the born-again Christians, it was as if I had been born again … The person who had been studying at the university, who had become interested and caught the train over to Melbourne, and it was like as if it was a different person, and now I was this new person, this person who had had this wonderful experience, and my life just changed instantaneously.

Fredrick wondered why the whole world did not feel the way he did.

(Fredrick) I remember just sort of thinking, why isn’t it, why isn’t it frontpage news in the West? … you know, something like, the headline might be ‘god is Everywhere’ or, you know, ‘Guru is Truth’ or something like that, why isn’t the West, why is the West so, why is it rejecting it? It is so patently obvious.

When Ben went to visit Gurumayi in India he was, at that point in his life, abusing drugs and alcohol. Ben was skeptical about the idea of visiting a guru, but went on his sister’s advice.

(Ben) Before I went I was like, life is like 95% shit and maybe there is some little bit of magic somewhere. I came back and the equation had been reversed and so I thought, wow! Life is fucking amazing.

To consider the findings presented in this chapter the final section is dedicated to a discussion of the major themes in relation to participants’ spiritual life.

Discussion The problem in gaining an understanding of spiritual experience is highlighted by the participant Michelle, who recognised that the difficulty is compounded by ‘where you are and where the other person is’. Hatab (1982, p.62) asserts, ‘mystical language, like all language, displays meaning in a community of use’. Outside of mystically-oriented communities such as Siddha Yoga, spiritual experience to some extent loses its meaning, or may appear deviant. Lali, who found her work colleagues ostracised her

178 when she attempted to explain her interest in yoga and meditation, had few avenues to express to others her inner life since moving away from Siddha Yoga.

For the participants, their experience of Shaktipat was a powerful, instantaneous transforming experience that reflects the motif of mystical conversion proposed by Lofland and Skonovd (1981). James ([1902]1979) gives many examples in his own work in regard to, as he termed it, religious experience and its ability to transform the individual. James’ (1979) examples of individuals’ religious experience were not all drawn from within the context of a religious group. James’ (1979) reference to religious experience appears to be in reference to the individuals’ eventual interpretation of the sensation. As Browning (1979, pp.58-59) observed, ‘James’ position was an early statement of what is known in social psychology as ‘attribution theory’ - the theory that the meaning of ambiguous states of consciousness comes from the cognitive set that one brings to the experience’. James details the progression of an alcoholic’s conversion to Jesus. Arising from a sudden realisation of a phenomenological connection with something greater than himself, this alcoholic made his way to a Jesus revival meeting, where he discovered Jesus was ‘the sinner’s friend’ and began to interpret his experience from a Christian perspective (James, 1979, p. 205). Rambo (1993, p.20) argues that all conversion is experienced in a particular context. In Siddha Yoga, participants were introduced (even if informally) to the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism, which appeared to also help ground the sense phenomena participants experienced. Participants also brought with them their own concepts of connection with God from their own traditions (mainly Christian).

Lofland and Skonovd (1981, p.377) refer to the motif that the earliest researchers on conversion such as James (1979) and Starbuck (1897) focused upon, as mystical conversion. Mystical conversion is regarded as a sudden experience which often contains hallucinations (visual and auditory) much like those expressed by the participants in this study. Mystical conversion is not usually considered to be a process (Lofland & Skonovd, 1981; Rambo, 1993). This type of conversion is commonly regarded as happening to the individual: they are not an active agent, the experience descends upon them. Therefore, mystical conversion is often thought of as difficult for the individual to communicate to others in a coherent and logical way (Lofland & Skonovd, 1981, p.377). Shaktipat could be interpreted as a mystical conversion as it has

179 been seen to descend on the individual, or to be something that has happened to them. For the most part, participants in this study were able to attribute their experience to their proximity to the guru. From the participants’ perspective, it was the guru who appeared to be awakening the experience within them. This was also apparent in those who considered that they were given Shaktipat by Muktananda in a dream.

Some participants in this study, who had what they interpreted as spiritual experiences, believed that they had a connection with God or the infinite. The fact that they came to this conclusion, that they had connected with God, is notable. James (1979) also considered this theme of participants’ connection with an infinite and remarked,

The only thing that unequivocally testifies to is that we can experience union with something larger than ourselves and in that union find our greatest peace … All the facts require is that the power should be both other and larger than our conscious selves. It need not be infinite it need not be solitary (James, 1979, p.449).

James’ (1979, p. 499) qualitative survey of religious experience led him to consider that those who proclaimed to have had a direct experience of god were at least having an experience of something greater than themselves; how much greater he did not know. However, what James (1979) begins to introduce to the concept of religious or spiritual experience is that the experience, whatever in itself it may be, is interpreted within a particular context and commonly that context is religious. What James (1979, p.228) does not do is to dismiss the phenomenon or its influence on the individual’s life, as there is ‘too much evidence’.

Most of those who reported experience of Shaktipat or other spiritual experiences appeared to connect with an infinite, something larger than themselves. The experiences were usually sudden and transformative, and generally tended toward a mystical motif of conversion. Those who could not explain what had happened to them during their meeting afterwards with the guru, began to understand their experience within the context of Siddha Yoga. Cathleen reported she had a textbook Shaktipat experience, although at the time of the event she did not know about Shaktipat or the awakening of the kundalini. It is difficult to determine to what extent Cathleen’s narrative of her Shaktipat experience had changed overtime. She discussed also that she had given an

180 ‘experience talk’ on many occasions at the ashram. Angie discussed how, before she was to give an ‘experience talk’ at the ashram, she was told by a person organising the program to leave out her spiritual experience prior to Siddha Yoga because it was not relevant. It could be that participants’ discussion of their spiritual experience over time may have incorporated aspects of Siddha Yoga teachings, though this cannot be verified from the interviews. Although, as was discussed in chapter 6, those who did have experience prior to involvement in Siddha Yoga found that Siddha Yoga helped to contextualise it.

What is present across these experiences are themes of awakening, connectedness, and an awareness of a higher power. These are themes present in many accounts of religious experience across many cultures (Forman; 1999; Howell, 1997; James, 1979, Katz, 1983). Experiences such as those expressed by the participants seem to be part of the human experience, yet how individuals wish or are psychologically or culturally able to contextualise them is what appears to give the experiences a specifically religious attribution. In Ganesh’s case, as he was sitting with others removed from the meditation hall and eating Mars bars, he thought, ‘What happened?’ It was not long before Ganesh was told he had been given Shaktipat and eventually began to read on the topic.

An interesting consideration in reference to the nature of participants’ so-called conversion, especially in relation to an instantaneous conversion motif such as mystical conversion or Shaktipat, is that the process of conversion to Siddha Yoga for these participants may have only begun. Even though participants have reported conversion turns that reflect those of ‘born-again’ Christians or the Pauline ‘Road to Damascus’, there were many things about Siddha Yoga of which the participants were not yet aware and yet to learn. Participants’ initial experience of Shaktipat could be seen less as an instantaneous conversion than as another aspect to the group which they found attractive. Rambo’s (1993, p.34) research found that ‘conversions are often stimulated by an extraordinary, and in some cases mystical, experience’. Participants in this study were moved significantly by their experience to find out more about Siddha Yoga. Equally, there may have been many people who visited the guru or the ashram who did not find it attractive. Rambo (1993, p.35) acknowledges that ‘from a careful reading of the literature it is clear that in fact most people say no to conversion’. It could be possible that those who experience powerful mystical experiences are then motivated to

181 find out more about the group and their own experience; this type of curiosity may be natural.

Howell (1997) has argued that groups actively take credit for the individual’s experience and promote their techniques for attaining these ‘non ordinary experiences’ or ‘altered states of consciousness’, or, as Forman (1999) has proposed, ‘pure consciousness experience’. However, groups appear most successful when taking credit for experiences that fit the group’s philosophy and types of expected experience resulting from the group’s techniques (Howell, 1997, pp.146-149). Howell (1997, p.148) argues that, if an individual has an experience that seems specific to the group, it challenges a constructivist notion of spiritual experience, especially that of Katz (1983), who insisted that the experience is constructed of the material of the individuals’ tradition. This raises the question of whether an individual from a mainly Western Christian background, having had an experience such as Shaktipat, has, in fact, experienced something unique within a Hindu-style group? Or, as Forman (1999) and Howell (1997) argue, there is something essentially human about religious or spiritual experience that is familiar to many traditions. In agreement with Forman (1999) and Howell (1997), experience may be essentially human, but from the findings, how an individual can, or chooses to, understand or discuss the experience is constructed by their previous knowledge and, subsequently, the new knowledge introduced by the group. Howell (1997) has found, in her study of the Brahma Kumaris, that an individual’s interpretation of their so called spiritual experience into the perspective of the group is one of the factors that foster commitment. Obviously, as has been already stated, the closer the experience resembles the expected outcomes of the group’s particular technique, the greater the likelihood of commitment. However, Barker (1997. p.130) has observed group members of the Unification Church interpreting newcomer’s uneventful dreams in ways that affirm the group’s ideology.

Rambo (1993, p.48) acknowledges that ‘the nature of conversion is, to a large degree, formed out of the religious matrix. In other words, the ideas, images, methods and metaphors of a religious tradition give shape to the nature of the conversion experience’. For participants in Siddha Yoga, the philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism helped to explain or contextualise the process of Shaktipat. According to Kashmir Shaivism, the individuals’ true self or inner-self is none other than Shiva or god. The individual needs

182 only to recognise this, which is why Shaivism is referred to as the Doctrine of Recognition or the Yoga of Supreme Identity. Singh’s (1990, p.26) translation of the Pratyabhijnahrdayam, a major Shaivism text, notes that the liberation of the individual is not ‘achieved by mere intellectual gymnastics, it comes by saktipat (the descent of Divine Sakti) or … Divine grace’. Kashmir Shaivism attempts to explain the way to enlightenment or the recognition of the true self or the supreme self, Shiva (Shankarananda, 2003, p.53). Shankarananda of Shiva Yoga asserts Shaivism is a life- affirming philosophy which posits that all we see and experience is god (2003, p.57).

Given Siddha Yoga’s philosophical and environmental influence in conceptualising participants’ spiritual experiences and their understanding of the guru, it is interesting that participants have also understood the guru within their existing Judeo-Christian framework. Even the use and meaning of the word ‘grace’ in the tradition of Kashmir Shaivism could fit easily into a Judeo-Christian understanding of an individual’s relationship with God. James (1979, p. 259) writes of the ‘grace’ in the Christian tradition: ‘Those who have received grace; an inner state which before all things is one of love and humility, of infinite confidence in God, and of severity for one’s self, accompanied with tenderness for others.’

It would be difficult, therefore, to judge whether participants were interpreting grace in the light of a Kashmir Shavisim or Judeo-Christian understanding, further, how much of the participants’ understanding of god or the guru varies overall from a Judeo-Christian one.

Conclusion Participants’ spiritual experience formed an important part of their affiliation to Siddha Yoga, and gaining an understanding of this experience has helped to address different parts of the research questions of this study on attractions, affiliation and life changes. After the experience, participants have pursued an understanding and have found context within Siddha Yoga. It also appeared to change the participants’ general life outlook from a worldly one to a more spiritually-oriented one (although many of the participants were already of this orientation). How individuals used their prior knowledge and traditions to make analogies or to even help their understanding of their experience of Siddha Yoga was a unique finding in this study. This has shown how

183 individuals have used their existing knowledge or schema to integrate their experience of the mystical aspects of Siddha Yoga Practice and the guru.

The following chapter presents and discusses participants’ experience of moving away from Siddha Yoga. The chapter explores and discusses the various themes and events in the participants’ lives and in the Siddha Yoga organisation which relate to these individuals’ movement away from Siddha Yoga.

184 Chapter 9

Movement away from Siddha Yoga (SYDA)

In this study, movement away was a process of gaining distance from the organisation of Siddha Yoga. This present chapter and the following one, Chapter 10, responds to the third and fourth research questions of the study: Why did these individuals move away from Siddha Yoga? What did the experience of moving away entail? How did they experience moving away? And, the impact or effects of being involved in Siddha Yoga Practice on career, lifestyle, status, and relationships?

In most cases it was not one event or issue alone that compelled participants to consider moving away from Siddha Yoga - participants reported accumulated events. Yet it seems there was a point beyond which they were no longer willing to go, as in ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’. Highlighted in participants’ interviews was that moving away was, to a large extent, a process that had involved many events rather than a single event or issue. Moving away from Siddha Yoga was not always a move away from devotion to Muktananda or the teachings and practices of Siddha Yoga. For some, movement away was an acknowledgment of a loss of faith in either the organisation or the guru, or sometimes both. For a few, especially for those who had lived in ashrams for long periods, the loss of affiliation was a difficult transition to consider, while for others, moving away opened up new life possibilities outside of the context of Siddha Yoga.

The themes presented in this chapter relate to participants’ moving away from Siddha Yoga and are presented as distinctive yet interrelated themes. As multiple issues were involved with participants’ movement away from Siddha Yoga, some of the individual themes also highlight the related themes. The major themes in moving away from Siddha Yoga are: • Significant events • Changing organisation • Competing interests • The role of the Internet

185 Significant Events There were three significant events within Siddha Yoga that participants reported as contributing to reassessment of their affiliation: • Muktananda’s death and the adoption of Nityananda and Gurumayi as co-leaders • Nityananda’s alleged forced removal and subsequent harassment by Siddha Yoga devotees • Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees

Muktananda’s Death and the Adoption of Nityananda and Gurumayi as Co- leaders Considering many of the participants in this study became involved with Siddha Yoga while Swami Muktananda was still alive, his passing and the instalment of his two successors caused some individuals to reassess their affiliation. When Nityananda and Gurumayi took over as the joint leaders of Siddha Yoga in 1982, participants reported the establishment of competing camps. Some considered Gurumayi as their guru and others Nityananda. Those in this study who left Siddha Yoga at that time were mainly ‘old timers’ who still thought of Muktananda as their guru and could not so easily shift their allegiance to either Gurumayi or Nityananda.

(Garry) Just gradually tapered off, you know. It was still, I was still going around playing the harmonium for various sessions. Two a week maybe, maximum. But the whole, the whole ambience was a bit strange at that time. I was really sick of it, I was ready to leave. In fact we sold the house, sold it in Fitzroy because that was it, you know, we wanted to be finished with it. Baba died, our son was born … then after that it just seemed like obvious, it was time to leave … Chit [Gurumayi] came through and was almost asking for people to commit to some sort of allegiance. I couldn’t do that. That was bullshit, so I was still checking them out, her and Nityananda. So we just sort of really removed ourselves from the scene.

Although Garry discussed moving away from Siddha Yoga because of the changing of the gurus he also identified that it was not the sole consideration. Garry and his partner had also just had their first child which brought with it new responsibilities. New responsibilities or what I have termed competing interests is presented as a separate but connected theme later in this chapter.

186

Dan also discussed moving away from Siddha Yoga after the death of Muktananda and the conflict that followed in relation to the new gurus. For many of the ‘old timers’, the leadership transition was a challenging time. Because Muktananda was their guru, there was not necessarily a need for another guru to take his place.

(Dan) Because Baba was my guru and they weren’t, I didn’t get involved - didn’t mean anything to me … I found everything I wanted in Siddha Yoga and Baba … the rest of it was up to me now. I had got all the guidance that I needed at that time and it was just for me to try and sort the rest out myself.

When Muktananda died, Dan decided to no longer be a full-time member of staff. He held no animosity towards the new gurus but felt it was time to focus on his family and his own career. Like Garry, Dan appeared to take the opportunity of Muktananda’s death to move away from the group and focus on other priorities.

Even though Angie eventually became a follower of Nityananda of Shanti Mandir, she still considered Muktananda to be her primary guru. Many of the ‘old timers’ would consider that their connection (if they had one) with the new gurus was secondary to their connection with Muktananda.

(Angie) They both came and I didn’t feel a huge connection either way. I was still with Baba, my connection was with Baba, and as time passed, I just thought, well, I’ll keep on doing my practices. I wasn’t used to being with him in the flesh anyway. He’s still there; he is still there in the same way.

When interviewed, many of the ‘old timers’ considered Muktananda an active force in their lives. Those who had moved away from the present organised forms of Siddha Yoga Practice still considered themselves on the spiritual path initiated by Muktananda. The best analogy to their present affiliation would perhaps be that of a Christian who does not go to church yet believes in God.

The next section focuses on Siddha Yoga at the time Nityananda stood down from the co-leadership of Siddha Yoga, leaving Gurumayi as sole leader.

187 Nityananda’s Alleged Forced Removal and Subsequent Harassment by Siddha Yoga Devotees When all that happened with Nityananda and Gurumayi, I was sort of doubtful then about following either one of them. (Harmony)

The harassment of Nityananda, reported in The New Yorker (Harris, 1994), The Indian Illustrated Weekly (Kottary 1986) and by participants in this study, also challenged some participants’ faith in Siddha Yoga and played a role in their moving away from Siddha Yoga. When Nityananda was deposed, those who were firmly entrenched in his camp, like Elizabeth, left the movement.

(Elizabeth) Gurumayi sent out about six or seven people and they came out like the Gestapo … They would take people out for coffee and they would try and find some dirt on me, try to find some way that they could, what’s the word … discredit me. And people found it really shocking and offensive, because I was just a simple person, and they couldn’t find anything, and couldn’t understand why were they doing this. And then the manager at the time, she wanted to support me, and they said [to her], “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” and it was all this strange, strange behaviour … I had to leave in middle of the night. And I wrote letters to the trustees and told them none of them wanted to see it … they didn’t want to see what was going on, they would rather believe the party line, which was that Nityananda had sexually misbehaved. And then what the party line was that Baba never intended for him to be a guru … That was crazy, because I was present when Baba designated Nityananda as the main successor. Hundreds of people were there. It was a public event … And I think that is why they were so violent, because I think they wanted to intimidate Nityananda, because if he ever took her [Gurumayi] to court I think he could have won ... So they wanted to just harass him so much that he would never think to do that, and in a way they did, they succeeded, they took everything away from him … It was just shocking behaviour, and I thoroughly expected them to beat me up as well, because I knew they had done that to other people, which is why I left in the middle of the night.

Elizabeth was in a unique position that gave her close access to the guru and the organisation. Others, who were more remote from the centre of the organisation, also

188 reported feeling the pressure to choose sides, especially when the varying stories of Nityananda’s treatment became public. Ganesh reported also being taken out for a coffee around the same time Elizabeth left the ashram and asked if he was sympathetic to Nityananda.

Angie reported how Siddha Yoga attempted to address the impact the negative publicity was having on devotees by making a video of interviews with the women with whom Nityananda had allegedly been having affairs.

(Angie) They showed us this video and I just didn’t believe it, and it just didn’t ring true to me, and he didn’t - the whole look of the thing just didn’t seem right. And then we got smuggled-in newspapers from India ... And as soon as those papers hit, people left the ashram in droves. People stopped coming and I was caught, although I wasn’t living in there, I still had quite a lot of seva there, and I liked the people there, and I liked the people on both sides, so I guess I was a fence sitter … [then] I stopped going there. For me it was the same as breaking up a relationship I guess. I was under the doona for about a year.

Others in the study have also marked the occasion of Nityananda’s alleged forced removal as a point where they felt they could no longer affiliate themselves with Siddha Yoga.

(Fredrick) The thing that really made me deeply cynical was the rift between the brother and the sister. It really starts to smell when a supposedly enlightened person can’t even maintain relations with their own sibling. What is that about? There is something very wrong with that. Then there were these sort of rumours, which are probably true, of tyre slashing and Nityananda, young Nityananda, being sort of punched up … Just the whole power thing, power and privilege and status, all of those things, it started to look like just the same old shit in secular life.

Those who were new to Siddha Yoga, like Susan who had only been living in the Melbourne ashram for a few months when Nityananda was deposed, reported not being overly concerned and accepted the changes and Siddha Yoga’s explanations.

189 (Susan) I felt because I was so new, I felt like I was an observer to everything that happened around the ashram because of it, I wasn’t so emotionally involved with it, but I saw so many people disappear and leave and I just thought, well, this is just part of it. I wasn’t so concerned.

(Ben) I read the letters that had been sent to all the devotees and sort of went – oh, that’s a bit weird but, oh, ok, so maybe they just are trying to maintain the integrity of this important thing that they are trying to deliver to the world. I mean, I think the intensity of the experiences I had made me keep going. Well, I can’t question the experiences I’ve had, because they made me feel amazing. I’d go into deep states of meditation.

A continuing theme in this study is the participants’ trusting their experience, although this appears to mainly relate to their inner or spiritual experience and not usually what was going on around them in Siddha Yoga. This is a theme that will be explored fully in the discussion.

The next section deals with implications of participants’ knowledge of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees and the contribution it had towards some individuals moving away from Siddha Yoga. Although Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations were not initially a focus of this study, many of the participants brought up the subject during the interviews.

Muktananda’s Alleged Sexual Relations with Female Devotees During the interviews for this study, the ‘elephant in the room’, especially for those still devoted to Muktananda, was his alleged sexual relations with female devotees. While many of the participants knew something of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations (usually at the level of rumour), not many individuals in this study had first-hand knowledge of Muktananda’s behaviour. Most participants knew of the existence of The New Yorker (Harris, 1994) article that reported on Muktananda’s sexual relations, and about the harassment of Nityananda, but had not read the article. The only participants who learned from directly speaking with the young girls and women, who allegedly had sexual relations with Muktananda, were Mark and Elizabeth and, therefore, their

190 interviews are key to presenting this issue which, for some, was eventually part of their reason for moving away.

Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations were perceived very differently by the participants in this study. In general, if the participant still regarded Muktananda as their guru they would to some extent rationalise his behaviour in the context of his ‘enlightened’ state. This may have been because devotees usually regard the guru’s actions as infallible.

(Krishna) The stuff that comes out about Baba with his sexuality, or sex stuff, like it was recorded in The New Yorker, it doesn’t touch me one bit because, if you are a master, the way I see it, and you’ve come down to give the teachings … Because he basically just zapped you and you woke up.

Elizabeth makes the point that, within the Tantric tradition, sexual relations can be part of the guru’s practice.

(Elizabeth) Nityananda and I have discussed this in great detail; you know, it is very prevalent also in the Tibetan tradition, so many of the lamas will marry, particularly in older age they will marry because they truly believe that, in order to do a big activity in the world, if you have that contact with a female, you are much more able to do that work, whereas a monk doesn’t have that capability. So it is accepted, and in the Tantric practices Baba understood that, and towards the end of his life some of his bizarre behaviour, we finally decided, was where he was taking the vital energy from the young women and using that to give Shaktipat … But you know, I haven’t talked to all the girls, but to the ones I have talked to, to them it was a positive experience. Now I know for some it wasn’t, but I haven’t spoken to those girls, so I can’t comment on that.

Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees was not solely the issue that led to Elizabeth’s moving away from Siddha Yoga, though it does, as with Krishna, highlight the participants’ rationalising of the guru’s actions within a particular tradition. This is particularly alarming considering that some of these female devotees, as reported by Caldwell (2001), Harris (1994) and Rodarmor (1983), were in their early

191 to mid teens. By contrast, when Mark learned of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees, he could not easily integrate them into his concept of the guru and it began his process of moving away.

(Mark) Baba would send people in. He would say, ‘You should go see [Mark]’, blah, blah, blah. What he didn’t know, unfortunately, was that a lot of the women which he was having Tantric relationships with came to [me]. So that is how I found out about all of that … I can assure you there were more than a dozen of them … They were all different, but generally speaking, they didn’t turn and run away from the ashram the next day, they stayed around. And there was a reason that they stayed around and it was because they were getting special attention. And so, a young girl getting all this special attention, of course they are going to go, ‘Oh, if that is all I’ve got to do to get a little bit extra attention then I’m going to hang around’. I mean, that is the feeling I got from most of them. There were one or two who admittedly were a little upset. There are some of them who are still involved with Gurumayi to this day … I was one of the ones who took care of them, I would talk to them and counsel them the best I could, with my limited amount of psychology … I will now say, yes, he [Muktananda] was wrong when he slept, when he had sex with girls. Personally, I say he was morally wrong when he slept with girls who were married, ‘cause I know one or two who had husbands back in America who he did Tantra with. He was wrong when he slept with younger inexperienced girls.

Not long after Mark spoke with these women about their alleged sexual relations with Muktananda, Muktananda died. When Mark discussed his moving away from Siddha Yoga in the interview, he made connections between his discovery of the alleged sexual relations, the new successors taking up the role of guru too quickly (for him) and the deposing and harassment of Nityananda. No participant in this study reported that their learning of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees was the single issue that made them move away from Siddha Yoga. As already stated, most participants’ knowledge of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations was at the level of hearsay. Because these revelations remained hearsay they did not seem, on their own, to lead participants to consider leaving Siddha Yoga. It is clear that many of the

192 participants heard rumours at the beginning of their involvement and others at later stages.

(Susan) Interestingly, back right at the very beginning when I was about to, when I started going to the ashram, this guy moved into the house which I was in and he had been involved with Siddha Yoga during Baba’s time and he said to me, “You know, Baba used to have sex with girls,” and I thought, Oh this guy is a bit of a wanker. I didn’t take any notice of him. So twenty years later I recall this conversation and think, Oh, god, he was right. But I never heard about it again. I never heard about it again.

(Jessica) All that stuff about Baba and the girls, I didn’t know anything while I was there; I knew a little bit after he had passed away, and I had a friend and she said that he used to grope her and stuff, and I believe her because she is a good friend, but I didn’t really focus on all of that, that wasn’t really, no one really talked about that stuff.

When Cathleen became aware of some of the scandals of Siddha Yoga and witnessed the effects that these revelations had on many of the devotees, she experienced what appeared to be a total loss of faith in Siddha Yoga.

(Cathleen) Well, I went into sort of shock because many of the swamis that I had a lot of respect for started leaving and getting married and having kids … It was like the whole thing just went phurrff. And there was all this awful stuff about Nityananda and Gurumayi, you know, all this stuff, and so I still tried to get up and do the discipline, getting up and doing the Guru Gita and things on my own, at my own house. I didn’t want to go to Gore Street [the Melbourne ashram] any longer, because the vibe was wrong and so I just tried to keep my discipline … and everything died. Not just Baba but everything, and (long pause) it was a very long period of nothingness … I went on the dole. I totally and utterly went underground and lost faith, and umm … was very hard to keep faith … I didn’t make it leave, it was just that everything that I had believed in had sort of emptied and gone away. And umm … all the people that I had, obviously, on pedestals, they crashed to the ground. And well, Muktananda, well his pedestal crashed to the ground, with all

193 the talk about him and the girls and umm …. You know, it was very hard to sustain it. All I could go by was my experience, was the only thread of reality that I had amongst the whole thing. And it was years of my life that had been spent involved in that organisation and suddenly it is cut off and curtailed and finished, and yeah, it was a total ending.

Cathleen’s loss of faith in Siddha Yoga was involuntary: her experience was that it left her. As with mystical conversion, some forms of moving away appear to be instantaneous and life changing.

When Cathleen was asked how she managed to rationalise her knowledge of Muktananda’s alleged sexual behaviour, her response was:

(Cathleen) Well, I don’t … What I do with that is go by my experience and I had a perfect experience. And I am so grateful because of what I gained. I mean, what I gained, it has given me my whole future journey.

While Cathleen is no longer a follower of Muktananda or Siddha Yoga (she is presently a follower of Amma, the ‘Hugging Guru’), her initial spiritual experience initiated by the guru was still relevant, despite her knowledge of the allegations. This was true of many others in this study who continue on a spiritual path. Most of those no longer devoted to Muktananda made no attempt to rationalise or justify his alleged sexual behaviour.

Although participants who moved away from Siddha Yoga did report that they eventually were influenced by the significant events mentioned in this section, it seemed to require more than knowledge of one event to initiate a move away from Siddha Yoga. There appeared to be a limit to how much a participant was willing to put aside.

The changing nature of Siddha Yoga as an organisation, and the competing interests in participants’ lives, have already been alluded to in reference to influencing moving away. The next section presents these issues as separate themes.

194 Changing Organisation It was really nice, the way they did it in the 70s. I think the way it kind of became a slick product in the ‘80s, and the way it is kind of presented now is kind of unappealing to me … They weren’t trying to make money out of it in the 70s, they had just discovered this thing. (Jessica)

As well as the controversies surrounding Siddha Yoga, some of the participants like Tony, Harry, Garry and eventually Krishna, attributed moving away from Siddha Yoga partly to its changing culture, including changes in the leadership. The Siddha Yoga they had known and had become familiar with, had changed. This of course is a continuing theme as Siddha Yoga has continually changed from the grassroots movement that many of the participants in this study first discovered.

Krishna had remained involved with Siddha Yoga through most of the changes. He said, ‘I didn’t want to get involved in all that crap; admittedly it is an ostrich kind of approach’. As Krishna acknowledged, he put his head in the sand; that is, until he could no longer ignore the changing nature of the organisation.

(Krishna) After Gurumayi came in 1991, that was the end of virtually my association … after she left. Look, I had been involved for quite awhile on the internal planning of programming and other events, and I just felt like there was too much of that and not enough pure stuff happening … It just fell away, you know, I had - it was a slow falling away, but I recognised that I was falling away and disillusioned with the process that was existing there.

Krishna related how his affiliation with Siddha Yoga ‘fell away’. It appears that, for some of the participants, although they may not have lost conviction in their initial experience or the practices of Siddha Yoga, they could no longer relate to the changing organisation.

Competing Interests It does appear that, like some conversions, different processes were involved in participants’ moving away. For many in this study, it appeared that competing interests took priority in devotees’ lives as they began to associate less with Siddha Yoga. Both

195 Harmony and Patricia had a child and discussed how the child was given the highest priority in their lives, thus leaving little time for seva or other involvements in the ashram.

(Patricia) Having a kid, it just wasn’t the same. After I had Nathan, I couldn’t be as involved … It was just hard having a baby and being involved and I just lost a bit of interest, I think.

Philip also highlighted his other priorities in life which began to take over.

(Philip) Well I left. I got more intensively involved work wise, and it was when I bought my first house. In those times … I had gone to Ganeshpuri when he died, when Baba died, and a year later they had all that falling out. I still went to the ashram regularly for a chant, but then it started to fade, my interest started to fade a bit.

For many participants in this study the changing Siddha Yoga organisation could not eventually compete with individuals’ personal interest or life goals. This was in part because of the many changes and allegations which could no longer be refuted. For some, this was because they had never put the interests of Siddha Yoga ahead of their own. While they may have imbibed some of the teachings and practices, they appear to have always pursued their own interests in regard to career and family life during their involvement.

The next section focuses on the Internet as one of the main sources of dissent. A major source of information on the significant events presented in this study for those who were not in the ‘inner circle’ of Siddha Yoga was the Internet. Potentially damaging rumours may have been a constant within Siddha Yoga since the very early days, but with the advent of anti-Siddha Yoga sites on the Internet, knowledge of the significant events discussed in this study became more accessible to those who were interested.

The Internet Information on the Internet presented by ex-devotees of Siddha Yoga was an important factor in some participants’ process of moving away. Many of the participants were

196 aware of disenchanted devotees discussing Siddha Yoga on the Internet but had not accessed these user-groups. Surprisingly, out of the 32 participants only four had accessed the Internet for information on Siddha Yoga. Those in the study who were still devoted to Muktananda appeared to be aware of what they termed ‘negative’ information on the Internet and chose not to look at it. Although Elizabeth had read some of the discussions on anti-Siddha Yoga websites she expressed a typical view of those who were still devoted to Muktananda by dismissing it as a kind of ‘sour grapes’.

(Elizabeth) I think it is sad, I think they are projecting their own anger onto the teacher, which I think happens very often, when they don’t have a deep enough experience. They wanted a certain kind of experience, maybe they didn’t get it, and then they became angry, and disenchanted. But I even saw some people who, I thought, threw away the baby with the bathwater. It’s one thing to leave Siddha Yoga, but its another thing to hold in your heart the genuineness of the experience that Baba gave you. You’d be crazy to throw that away.

Ben remembered coming across anti-Siddha Yoga sites while he was still involved with Siddha Yoga and observed that the typical response to these websites from Siddha Yoga devotees was that ‘negative’ people put them out.

(Ben) I’d come across these things when I was still practising Siddha Yoga: “Siddha [Yoga], stay away from them, they are loonies, they are loonies and I’ve spent 20 years in there.” And we had this sort of thing where you don’t listen to doubters and fault finders and all those words, a catch cry for anyone who said anything negative. Anything negative is, “You are just negative and going through your shit.” You know, the world is a mirror and it will be reflected back to you. And Baba would say, “Well if you have got doubts, well that’s what you’ve got isn’t it, doubts.” Okay, umm - Ah! the Internet. So the Internet was like a little thing that allowed some doubts to come.

Even Shannon, who eventually read everything on the Internet she could find on Siddha Yoga, expressed that prior to her moving away from Siddha Yoga she had known there was anti-Siddha Yoga information on the Internet but had never looked at it.

197 (Shannon) Yeah, I had for years never looked at that stuff. Because, I’d felt like I had all these kind of legitimate experiences and felt really good, participating in all that Siddha Yoga stuff. It didn’t kind of bother me.

For devotees, there was always the possibility of finding out something on the Internet or hearing rumours from old timers which, from the perspective of Siddha Yoga, would be framed as ‘negative’ or ‘sour grapes’. The culture within Siddha Yoga, leading devotees to ignore ‘negativity’ in the form of dissent, appeared to be effective. Although Susan had heard about The New Yorker (Harris, 1994) article when it came out, it was not until one year before the interview for this study that she found it on the internet and read it. Susan discussed how Siddha Yoga handled The New Yorker article at the time.

(Susan) When that article came out in The New Yorker, I was still in Ganeshpuri and I was in charge of hosting. That was one of my sevas. So all the people who were involved with greeting new people coming in had this secret meeting where we were told there was this article in the The New Yorker but it was all rubbish and that really we shouldn’t be asking to see it, we didn’t need to. We just needed to know that it was not true, and if anybody came to the ashram wanting to talk about it they were to be told it is not anything that needs to be discussed. Because it was all lies, and creating Maya [illusion] if you talk about it or think about it so don’t do it. So that is how they handled it in Ganeshpuri.

Most of those in this study who were no longer involved with any form of Siddha Yoga Practice had not, at the time of the interview, accessed anti-Siddha Yoga information on the Internet, including The New Yorker (Harris, 1994) article, despite knowing of its existence. The Internet did appear to have a significant influence for Shannon, Ben and Susan in as much as they reported that it helped them to move away from Siddha Yoga and gain an understanding of what they had been involved in. Also, as Ben noted, the Internet provided an outlet for doubt, and possibly a sense that they were not alone in their doubts. When interviewing Susan, she reported following the discussions on an ex- Siddha Yoga website. Susan thought it was interesting that others had experiences similar to hers but didn’t get involved in the discussions. Following the discussion and not posting is usually referred to as ‘lurking’ by those who participate in the discussion and regarded as common practice on Internet forums.

198 Discussion How and why individuals move away from a group is not a well explored area by those who give credence to the brainwashing thesis. Because the brainwashing thesis proposes such a strong representation of mind control over every aspect of the follower’s life there is not much discussion of personal agency (Ward, 2000, 2002, Whitset, 2003; Lalich & Tobias 2006). Sociologists who have studied NRMs have for some time acknowledged that individuals choose to move away for personal and organisational reasons, highlighting personal agency, and movement away is not usually sudden but gradual (Bromley, 1988; Lewis 1987; Wright, 1987, 1988). From the findings, it appears that there are many reasons for an active member of the group to move away, and these are not necessarily linked to loss of faith in the spiritual practice or the guru; nor does it involve being removed only by external intervention, as has been proposed by some advocates of the brainwashing thesis (Barker, 1984, p.252). The picture of moving away from Siddha Yoga presented by these particular ex-members comprises a variety of reasons that are possibly not even fully understood by the participants themselves. What appears to confuse the issue of moving away is, for many, that they have had what they regard as significant spiritual experience which seemed to have come from their involvement with Siddha Yoga, and particularly their relationship with the guru. Most participants appear able to be critical of Siddha Yoga the organisation, but remain convinced of their own spiritual experience. Spiritual experience has been seen to act as a proof of the path in this study and, as Howell (1997) has proposed, is a major factor in commitment to a group such as Siddha Yoga. Trusting in personal experience, specifically in relation to spiritual experience, appears to have a strong culture in Siddha Yoga.

There is no reason to take anyone’s word for anything. In Siddha Yoga there is nothing to blindly believe or accept on faith. It is the yoga of our own experience, of our own expansion. The only reason anyone practices Siddha Yoga is because of what actually happens to them once they begin. The only validity of Siddha Yoga is that it actually works; it actually transforms us and our lives (Siddha-Yoga, 1989, p.3).

Clearly, for many of the participants in this study, Siddha Yoga transformed their lives in some way and some had striking spiritual experiences through practices or in the 199 gurus’ presences. However, by emphasising that participants should trust their own experience, usually an inner or spiritual experience that corresponds with the group’s expectations, Siddha Yoga may have directed individuals to not trust those critical of the organisation. Siddha Yoga has had its critics for almost as long as it has had an organised presence in the West. When others, such as ex-members, journalists or academics, have been critical of Siddha Yoga, as discussed by Ben and Susan, it was often regarded as ‘negative’ and usually did not correspond to the individual’s inner experience or the expected outcomes of Siddha Yoga Practice. Personal spiritual experience was certainly a factor related to sustained commitment to Siddha Yoga for participants in this study and supports Howell’s (1997) findings. However, for many of those in this study, their experience of the spiritual and their trust in that experience did not put a definitive stop to the variety of doubts that eventually emerged from knowledge of the significant events explored in this chapter.

The significant events - Muktananda’s death and the adoption of Nityananda and Gurumayi as co-leaders; Nityananda’s alleged forced removal and harassment by the Siddha Yoga devotees; and Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees - played a role in participants moving away from Siddha Yoga. It was not any one of these events alone that led individuals to move away from Siddha Yoga. Nor did the individuals usually react to these events when they initially happened (or came to their attention) but at a later date. The first article to report on allegations of Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations and corruption in Siddha Yoga was in 1983 (Rodarmor, 1983). From then on, devotees would always have the opportunity to discover it. The phrase ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ makes for a suitable metaphor given participants appeared to sustain faith in Siddha Yoga with knowledge of some significant events only up to a certain point. Beyond that point, it would appear that participants moved away easily, or that their affiliation, mainly with the organisation, appeared to fall away almost against their will. A theme common across most of the participants was their unease with the changing organisation.

For some, the changing nature of the organisation appeared to precipitate moving away. What they had been originally attracted to, highlighted in Chapter 6, was no longer evident. The changing of gurus, and the changing of the general environment and culture, no longer held the same attraction or authenticity, for some. As Siddha Yoga

200 grew and became more organised, it became less attractive for those who enjoyed its previously looser structure. If the sociological usage of the term cult as a form of mystical fellowship (Campbell, 1978) is considered, it could be that participants were in fact attracted to the cult aspect of Siddha Yoga Practice not the hierarchical or organisational aspects of an established religion. Sociologically, the term cult refers to mysticism and individualism rather than organisation or hierarchy (Bruce, 1978; Campbell, 1978; Troeltsch, [1931] 1992).

Barker (1993, p.134) has noted that NRMs, being new, tend to change over time or even during the participants’ affiliation. Many of the Indian-based guru-disciple NRMs of the 1960s and 70s grew into large organisations in a relatively short period. It does seem that whenever a participant began to affiliate with Siddha Yoga, there were always bound to be changes. It was not only those who met Muktananda in the early 1970s who noticed change; those who became involved in the early ‘80s also experienced organisational and cultural change in the movement. In Chapter 7, Garry highlighted that, early on in the development of the movement, what he called the ‘priests’ were already shaping Siddha Yoga into a religion. This development in Siddha Yoga was not an initial attraction for the participants but is discussed as part of moving away. The mystical and experiential aspects of the Siddha Yoga Practice certainly were initial attractions and difficult for the participants to dismiss because they were very real, spiritual experiences that helped to shape their lives.

Moving away was not always considered a negative experience and, for most of the participants, was a time to reassess and focus on their own life priorities. Much of what constitutes moving away could also be considered in the light of growing older, developing as a person with individual priorities (Barker, 1997; Levine, 1984). Participants became more focused on their lives outside of the group, or their lives outside the group gained a greater focus and dedication of their time and energies. Having children, buying a house and pursuing a career, for some, overtook commitment to the group. It does seem that some participants more than others were always more focused on their own priorities rather than on those of the group.

For the few who were interested in following up on the rumours they had heard in regard to Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees or other

201 allegations, the Internet was one of the only places participants could satisfy their doubts. Yet most of the participants, although familiar with the Internet, did not access anti-Siddha Yoga material. This is extraordinary considering a search for Siddha Yoga on the Internet would likely also return anti-Siddha Yoga sites. It is possible that Siddha Yoga’s culture of dismissing negativity towards the group or the gurus, as discussed by Ben and Susan, was effective. So effective that even those who no longer considered themselves in any way involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice at the time of the interviews acknowledged they did not feel compelled to access anti-Siddha Yoga material on the Internet or elsewhere. Even so, the Internet did give some of the participants a forum for their doubts and a source of information not usually available from other members or the movement. Barker (1997, p.135) has acknowledged that individuals in a group who harbour doubts may feel they are the only ones and therefore find it difficult to voice their misgivings.

Conclusion What seems evident from this chapter is that participants in this study moved away from their affiliation with Siddha Yoga when it no longer corresponded with their own ideas. However, why each individual specifically moved away and how they chose to do this varied. In Chapter 7, it was demonstrated that individuals can have very different experiences of affiliation even within the same group. In this chapter, it has been seen that individuals also have different experiences of moving away from the same group and different reasons for doing so. For some, it may not have been an easy decision to move on from Siddha Yoga and it has been seen to have taken more than one event in the form of competing personal interests, the changing organisation or the significant events in Siddha Yoga history discussed in this chapter. Yet eventually their lives did become detached from the organisation of Siddha Yoga. Some were not very involved with the day to day activities of the ashrams or centres and so movement away from Siddha Yoga did not necessarily present a major change in their lives. Others did have a lot of their day-to-day lives invested in the organisation and therefore participants’ various experiences of moving away highlight some important themes in the following chapter, which explores the participants’ experience of refocusing their lives after involvement in Siddha Yoga.

202 Chapter 10

Life After Siddha Yoga

For most of the participants, life after Siddha Yoga became increasingly focused on their own lives and goals rather than those of the ashrams or centres. There were a few who reported some difficulty and their experiences highlighted some important issues for those who committed substantial periods of their lives living with and working for the group. Some of the participants, as was highlighted in Chapter 5, were at the time of the interviews, practising a form of Siddha Yoga through schism organisations. Seven participants were associated with Swami Nityananda of Shanti Mandir and one with Swami Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga. A further nine of the participants still regarded Siddha Yoga’s founder, Swami Muktananda, as their guru but were not affiliated with any organised form of Siddha Yoga Practice. The remaining fifteen participants were no longer involved in any form of organised Siddha Yoga Practice nor regarded Muktananda as their guru; of these, eight reported affiliation with other traditions. Finally, seven of the participants no longer considered themselves seekers at all, insofar as they were not actively seeking out an organised spiritual path or particular spiritual or religious tradition.

From the interviews, the major themes relating to life after Siddha Yoga that are presented and discussed in this chapter are: • Refocusing their lives • New spiritual affiliation • What has been retained • Sustaining friendship networks

Many of the participants had continued their ‘outside’ careers throughout their time in the group and had therefore not sacrificed a great deal through their affiliation. For example, David, Greg, Angie, Nicole, Philip and others had careers that they continued to follow and others, like Bruce, Harry and Dan, soon began new careers after their involvement. There were some who, more so than others, appeared to have more of their lives dedicated to Siddha Yoga and presented life after Siddha Yoga as a somewhat more difficult process of rebuilding. In relation to those participants, Susan,

203 Elizabeth, Jessica and Shannon presented some important themes around life after Siddha Yoga and rebuilding or refocussing their lives.

Refocusing Their Lives Elizabeth’s departure was, as she discussed, a forced exit because of her allegiance to Nityananda. After many years dedicating her life to Siddha Yoga, Elizabeth reported not having any money or other possessions; she was in her late forties and had to depend on her family to support her. Because of her role as a teacher in Siddha Yoga, she was able to transfer some of those skills, and gained some well-paid work in staff training. Elizabeth eventually trained as a psychotherapist. Although she had a successful new career she reported that she felt uncomfortable out of her ‘robes’. She followed Nityananda for some time but eventually decided to become a Buddhist monk. She thought that leaving Siddha Yoga gave her a better understanding of what she had experienced through her affiliation.

(Elizabeth) I really had something to always to fall back on that made me courageous, and I would never have known that until I left the institution. Because, as long as you’re in the institution, you feel dependent on the environment. You know, that’s what I felt, I felt dependent on the community. So when I decided to leave I made a very strong decision. I said, “Ok, I am going to have to leave. What Baba has given me is real and genuine, it is inside of me, no one can take it away from me, it doesn’t belong to Siddha Yoga, it doesn’t have anything to do with anybody else, it is inside of me, and I have to trust it and I have to follow my own integrity and just do this.” So it was very, very hard, and of course, because I couldn’t access back into the Siddha Yoga community at all, which had been my community, I was very, very isolated. So that was quite sad and quite difficult.

Elizabeth highlights the issue of the loss of community. Siddha Yoga was at the very core of her life and work and when that was lost, she lost most of her support system. Fortunately Elizabeth was still close to her family and found the support she needed to rebuild her life.

Susan spent many years living in the India ashram, and had spent almost 20 years actively involved with Siddha Yoga. In the late 1990s she was told by Siddha Yoga

204 management - as were many others - to leave the ashram and live in the world. Susan said she was told, ‘the ashram is not your home’. Susan respected this new focus of Siddha Yoga, although she loved the monastic life of living in the India ashram. Siddha Yoga gave her some money and told her she could stay at the Melbourne ashram until she found work and that she would be given help to find work. Susan eventually found work and said she has not been out of work since. As Susan grew more distant from Siddha Yoga, and as Gurumayi reportedly became more remote from the devotees, she began to lose faith. The supportive movement that she had once known and depended on, appeared to have become distant. Susan’s exploration of the Internet was her ‘last straw’, her faith became totally shattered. Although many things were going well for Susan in regard to work and a new relationship, she reported feeling empty inside and almost as desperately depressed as she was just before she became involved in Siddha Yoga.

(Susan) I am still coming out of it. I am much better than I was, but I went through a period of grief and anger, the whole mourning thing. Because it had been 20 years of my life, and I felt like I was free-falling and didn’t know where I was going to land, or what I was going to land with or into. And I am still not there really … I am finding it difficult to separate everything. I haven’t really found my way … I do miss the chanting, I loved chanting and so I do feel like there is this big hole in my life that I don’t know how to fill. And so I’m still finding the real who I am now, I guess.

Shannon had also spent nearly 20 years actively involved with Siddha Yoga with much of that time spent living in an ashram. A close friend of Shannon’s was accused of using drugs and therefore both were asked to leave. Shannon was devastated and went to live with her family in northern Victoria. Shannon began abusing drugs in a way that she hadn’t since becoming involved in Siddha Yoga. After some time she got involved with the Siddha Yoga group in her area. Shannon’s drug abuse continued, even though she became a pivotal member of her local Siddha Yoga group. Shannon began to recognise that she was out of control. She had a new son and was spending most of her time travelling around the state organising Siddha Yoga workshops. Shannon eventually discussed these issues with her massage therapist who helped her to recognise that she was not focusing on her own life. For Shannon to remove herself from Siddha Yoga,

205 she decided to live in a small shack in the country with no phone so that she couldn’t be contacted by her Siddha Yoga friends. Eventually Shannon decided to gain some education; she was close to 40 years old and felt she had wasted much of her life working for Siddha Yoga.

(Shannon) It was like I couldn’t think of my life without Siddha Yoga. I was actually damaging myself by spending money on intensives, and just not mixing with people who are actually in my life but preferring to mix with Siddha Yoga people and do all the Siddha Yoga stuff … When I went away on my own I started feeling really angry and I was like, Oh, oh, my god, 38 and I haven’t done anything with my life. I haven’t studied, I’ve just like worked for free for this organisation. Like, I don’t know anything about the world.

Jessica discovered Siddha Yoga when she was 17; her life after Siddha Yoga was presented in relation to growing up and discovering of the world outside of Siddha Yoga. Through casual work outside the ashram, Jessica began to meet others her age who she found interesting. Like Shannon, Jessica regarded her time in Siddha Yoga a waste of her youth. Jessica reflected on what she may have become if she had not become involved in Siddha Yoga.

(Jessica) I think just that whole thing of being taken out of society at such a tender [age] … I might have got into my artwork and painting… Well I might have actually gone into it, instead of being railroaded into something else. Because I was quite a driven young person, I had a lot of talent and I could have gone to art school. I probably could have achieved something with my art work, and I probably got railroaded and distracted. But maybe I would have anyway, so you can’t say that. And probably getting into, getting boyfriends at such a late age. I kind of did what you do at 15 up until my early 30s, a real ratbag. So I did everything late, I’ve done everything late. I suppose I regret that.

Susan, Shannon and Jessica no longer consider Muktananda as their guru and to varying degrees felt they have been misled by Siddha Yoga. Shannon and Jessica to a larger extent felt they had wasted their youth in Siddha Yoga. There were others in this study who were young like Shannon and Jessica when they discovered Siddha Yoga, though

206 they had spent less time in the group. The intensity of the loss experienced by Shannon and Jessica appears proportionate to the time they spent actively in the movement and the age at which they began their involvement.

Susan and Elizabeth’s loss appeared a loss of something they really loved. Elizabeth managed to find her way back to a monastic lifestyle, a lifestyle which Susan also reported enjoying. Many of the participants who moved away from Siddha Yoga were also moving away from some part of their affiliation that they really loved.

(Ben) And sometimes I do miss it myself. All that Indian beautifulness, you know? You go, “that was kind of a nice flavour to live in for a while.”

(Jessica) In one way I wish I had never gone through it, and in another way I am glad, I am happy that I’ve done that, because a lot of people don’t have any spiritual depth at all or any comprehension at all.

Even though Jessica and others had serious misgivings about their affiliation with Siddha Yoga it did to some extent shape their spiritual outlook. After Siddha Yoga many of the participants had to reassess some of their beliefs by dismissing, integrating or turning towards a new spiritual interest. The following section explores some of the new spiritual interests participants reported.

New Spiritual Affiliation After Siddha Yoga As was highlighted at the beginning of this chapter, just over half of the participants, even though they had moved away from Siddha Yoga when interviewed, had stayed within the same tradition. Some participants had retained Muktananda as their guru even though no longer affiliated with Siddha Yoga, and others became associated with Nityananda through his organisation Shanti Mandir. One of the participants had also remained within the tradition by affiliating with Swami Shankarananda of Shiva Yoga.

Many of those in this study who became followers of Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir had no recent affiliation with Siddha Yoga or any other groups. This could be because, according to the participants in the present study, Nityananda had been banned from

207 entering Australia by the Department of Immigration, a ban which was eventually overturned.

(Angie) Linda and a couple of the others were working on getting Nityananda here, and they had huge court cases to get him through Immigration because Siddha Yoga had put blocks on him, saying he was violent, had murdered people and raped people, dreadful things … and then - I can’t even remember what year we finally had the breakthrough - we had Nityananda, we got him his visa, was allowed, and he came to stay, and that was bliss … Nityananda came and it was as if everything was as it should be … The minute he walked into the room it was like, “Ah, this is it, thank goodness.” It has been awhile but it was all worthwhile.

When Nityananda was once again free to visit Australia some of those who had been disillusioned with the Siddha Yoga organisation, but still had affection for Muktananda, began to resurface. Krishna was not altogether interested in meeting Nityananda, but a friend of his had urged him to at least come and pay respects considering Nityananda was one of Muktandanda’s successors.

(Krishna) So I went and saw him … He was giving a small satsang in the top of the church in Woollahra, but I knew as soon as I walked in the room that I was kind of like back where I started. It was very interesting … It is like a lot of people in Siddha Yoga and all sorts of people who have a religious experience, they always talk about, this sensation of coming home.

Krishna re-emphasises earlier themes explored in this study, of being introduced to a group by friends within an existing ‘web of relationships’, and the experience of coming home. Although Krishna’s coming home could appear as a second conversion, it is also a revitalisation of his faith in Muktananda. For most of the participants in this study who were devotees of Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir, their devotion to Nityananda appeared as an extension of their devotion to Muktananda. The importance of Nityananda to the followers, was that he was continuing the lineage of their guru, Muktananda. Nityananda also presented for some a simple form of Siddha Yoga Practice that was perhaps reminiscent of the early years of Siddha Yoga. Nityananda’s organisation of Shanti Mandir presented an intimate environment with easy access to

208 the guru. Those who discussed their attractions to Shanti Mandir highlighted the relatively small size of the group compared with Siddha Yoga and that, in this intimate setting, Nityananda was accessible to devotees. Some of the participants discussed how Nityananda was not interested in developing a large organisation, and that he wanted to keep it small.

(Arjuna) Gurudev [Nityananda] like actively discourages it, like he doesn’t want it to grow and like become organised - organised, do you know what I mean? It is like he has encouraged it all the way along to keep it as a grassroots kind of thing. You know, people donate their time, umm, there is no real money involved anywhere. Because when he comes here, just that many people come. Each tour he has been on the last few years, it is just bigger and bigger and bigger. It is just phew!… It gets scary sometimes.

Arjuna’s remark ‘organised, do you know what I mean?’ appeared in reference to the relatively large size Siddha Yoga had become during the mid to late 1980s and the subsequent changes in leadership and general culture of the movement. Arjuna, like others from Shanti Mandir, seemed to enjoy the smaller scale of their organisation and was eager to get that message across.

(David) I was told he doesn’t care. He has never been interested in numbers. This question was put to him … They said, “Do you care if you have fewer devotees than Gurumayi?” And his answer was, “I don’t give a shit.” I liked him for that answer.

Gordon, Robert and Cathleen moved to other guru-disciple traditions. Gordon became a follower of Yogananda, Robert a follower of Ganga Ji, and Cathleen a follower of Amma. Participants in this study reported that many ex-Siddha Yoga devotees were attracted to Amma. During the course of the fieldwork of this study I was invited to meet Amma and was also introduced to a few ex-Siddha Yoga devotees. An attraction reported by participants in regard to Amma (the ‘Hugging Guru’) was her accessibility in contrast to that of Gurumayi, who was reported by the participants to have in recent years become reclusive and no longer tours to meet devotees.

209 Buddhism was another tradition that attracted participants no longer affiliated with Siddha Yoga. Most notably, Elizabeth became a Buddhist monk, Sally was attending Buddhist retreats, and Dan had returned to his pre-Siddha Yoga interest in Zen Buddhism. Greg also returned to his pre-Siddha Yoga interest in Hatha Yoga. Edith was the only participant who retained a Christian faith, during and after Siddha Yoga.

As noted earlier in the chapter, seven of the participants when interviewed were no longer following an organised spiritual path, nor considered themselves seekers. However, it seemed important to consider what these seven participants had kept, if anything, from their prior affiliation.

What They Have Kept Seven of the participants no longer considered themselves seekers. Harmony, Patricia, Jessica, Shannon, Fredrick, Ben and Susan at the time of the interviews reported no interest in gurus or any other form of organised religion. For Susan, Shannon and Ben it had been just over two years since they had decided to no longer affiliate with Siddha Yoga. It may be possible that they would one day, like some other participants in this study, become attracted to a Siddha Yoga offshoot or maybe Amma. However, those in this study who did move to these other groups had in common a continuing attachment to Muktananda, or they felt they had gained spiritually from Muktananda. Susan, Shannon and Ben, like Harmony, Patricia, Jessica and Fredrick were no longer attracted to Muktananda and also were aware of - and took seriously - the allegations of sexual abuse and other scandals within Siddha Yoga. Nevertheless, these seven participated in Siddha Yoga for substantial periods at an influential time in their development as young adults and thus the question arises as to what, if anything, of Siddha Yoga Practice they have kept within their lives at the time of interviewing.

As I sat in Fredrick’s kitchen I noticed that he had a large wall hanging of the Indian elephant deity Ganesh and some yoga mats in the corner. I asked him if the wall hanging and yoga was something he carried on from Siddha Yoga.

(Fredrick) Well, hang on, the thing I guess about the Ganesh and the yoga mats is that 30 or 25 years ago Siddha Yoga was, it was out there, and yoga was out there, meditation was out there. Now it is mainstream, Hollywood people do yoga.

210 Ganesh and all of those Hindu gods over the last few decades just became kitsch items that you would get on postcards, like Che Guevara … It’s a present from someone from a shop in Glebe … But I still on occasion, still do a little bit of Hatha yoga.

Harmony had a few Buddhist statues in her house and also told me that they were gifts and, though they held no particular divine attributions, they were nice to look at. All of these seven participants had some Indian ornament, incense or picture in their homes and all, except for Susan, still practiced a physical form of yoga exercise. It is interesting that some of the initial exotic attractions and interest in physical yoga were sustained. This would be also true for most of the participants in this study. Further, those who had been to India still held a positive affection and memory of their experience. When interviewing Patricia, she told me she was planning a trip to India with her eldest son and would like to show him the ashram and village of Ganeshpuri. It is interesting that, although many of the participants have discussed their passion for India and its culture, only a few have returned to visit since they moved away from Siddha Yoga.

Other than sustaining an interest in Indian paraphernalia and physical yoga to varying degrees, these seven participants also had in common their present values and the relation these have to Siddha Yoga. A substantial theme among these seven participants is their reliance on themselves rather than on a guru or spiritual organisation for guidance.

(Jessica) I think sometimes I am too cynical, and part of it is that I don’t believe. You believed so much when you’re in the ashram, you believed in fairies in the bottom of the garden type stuff … My concern is the way people treat animals and nature, and that’s of grave concern to me, and that is the thing I worry about and am concerned about. I don’t seek a spiritual - and I don’t seek guidance from the universe and all that stuff. And I don’t believe that “you have to do it yourself” sort of number, and I am just trying to prioritise and do the things that are important to me in the right way. So nature is important to me and animals and like, trying not to leave too much of a heavy footprint behind me, and it would be really nice

211 eventually to work someway, to actually be of some help to the earth rather than just using it up.

(Patricia) I think I find it really hard to believe that a guru, or the guru that I had was an enlightened being. And that, like, anyone can be that far more ahead spiritually than anyone. But I think lots of things have stayed. I think the belief that you are god, I think that because, I think that there is something. I don’t know what it is, we are being created, not even created, that we are all one. Like that realisation that I know what love is, like that is still there, and love is all, it’s everything. And I think that’s something that carried on from that time. And still really clean living and, yeah … I think that that whole realisation, that yeah, it is within me, and don’t put your faith into anyone - not your faith, but don’t rely on someone to give you spiritual guidance. I think it is within you.

(Susan) I feel like I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what I believe, and I’d like to be able to separate Siddha Yoga from my core beliefs again, but basically at the moment [what] I am falling back on is, I guess, my own values about being a compassionate, empathic, caring person who wants good for everyone, and that has always been there, I guess, but that is what I fall back on.

The seven participants who no longer considered themselves seekers appeared not to depend on an organisation or group to direct their spiritual ideas or ethic. Definitely, the Siddha Yoga concept of the guru was clearly dismissed by these seven participants. Susan made it clear that she was purposefully falling back on her own core values. Only Patricia recognised some things that she experienced during Siddha Yoga as still relevant.

The nine participants who no longer affiliated with an organised practice of Siddha Yoga and yet still had some dedication to Muktananda may also be seen as having relied on themselves for spiritual fulfilment. Even though they did acknowledge Muktananda as their guru, they did not appear to need guidance from another living guru. They all held a deep interest in spirituality, even in other teachers, but not to the extent of affiliation. Most of these participants had met in recent years with Nityananda and to some extent respected his position. Changing their allegiance from Muktandanda

212 was not something that they were willing to consider. In general, Muktananda had given them Shaktipat and the rest was up to them. Philip was possibly the most notable example of self-reliance in that he was a prominent teacher of meditation and self- development. Philip’s role as a teacher clearly points to his independent Siddha Yoga Practice and what he considers carrying on Muktananda’s ‘meditation revolution’. Philip was not the only one of the nine who continued to practice Siddha Yoga. At the time of the interviews all nine reported that they continued to chant and meditate in their own homes and that Muktananda was a relevant spiritual force in their lives. Dan summed up well the attitude of these nine participants in regard to their dedication to Muktananda.

(Dan) Baba cured me of ever needing another teacher. I didn’t feel there was anything he didn’t know that I needed to know.

These participants gained something they regarded as important and lasting from Muktananda and have managed to continue their devotion towards him. The ways in which these participants were pursuing their lives at the time of the interviews probably did not differ much from those who no longer considered Muktananda their guru. Harry, Bruce and Christine were all advocates for environmental issues and active volunteers for separate organisations. Their concerns for the environment and social justice were similar to the seven participants who no longer considered themselves seekers. They did have a substantial belief in many aspects of Siddha Yoga and these did appear to be relevant to their daily lives. Perhaps their spiritual practice could be considered a private practice similar to many individuals within a secular society. Except for Philip, their beliefs were not usually discussed outside of a circle of friends, and many of the participants reported they did not discuss their beliefs with others very often.

Those who still had some devotion to Muktananda were convinced of their initial spiritual experience. They considered that Muktananda, whatever his failings, transformed their lives forever. This might also be true of those who moved to other movements. It appears that those who moved away completely from Siddha Yoga have been more critical of their own experience and the status of a guru as ‘god like’.

213 (Shannon) Lately I feel quite resolved about it. I don’t know what to make of it. I sort of go, “What was that all about?” And maybe it was sort of growing up and something that I got involved with. I don’t really know what to make of it.

Most of those who moved away completely from Siddha Yoga tended to put their experience of Siddha Yoga to one side and focus on other life issues. Shannon’s comment, ‘I don’t really know what to make of it’ was reflected in many of the interviews of those who moved away completely. It was not that they did not know what they had been involved in, it was more the case of how does that experience or time in their life fit with present aspects of life.

(Susan) My partner, he is still trying to get his head around it all, and we have only been together for two years, and I have always been so private about it.

It could be said of all the participants in this study that the only place that individuals could comfortably relate or fit their experience of Siddha Yoga would be within another religious or spiritual context. Those who no longer socialise or affiliate with others with a similar interest, appeared to have difficulty making sense of or integrating their experience into their present life. Furthermore, once faith is lost in the guru there is very little in Siddha Yoga for the participant to hold onto considering that Siddha Yoga Practice is primarily centred on the guru-disciple relationship.

One aspect of participant involvement which many of the participants have sustained, is presented in the final section of the findings - sustaining friendships with other group members.

Sustaining Friendship Networks Participants appeared to sustain friendships and links with others who moved away for similar reasons, and often sustained these links even if their friends or acquaintances began affiliation with other groups or gurus. This reflects the nature of the snowball sampling which was used in this study to gain participants. In fact, the sample in itself is evidence of participants’ sustaining friendships with other devotees after their involvement in Siddha Yoga.

214 Those who moved away completely from Siddha Yoga and Muktananda and did not report any difficulties in refocusing their lives, also appeared to have networks of friends with a similar experience of moving away from Siddha Yoga. In fact, some of the participants’ initial involvement with Siddha Yoga was through friends and these friends often remained friends after their time in Siddha Yoga.

(Patricia) Yeah some, not a lot, but they were friends beforehand. Though Sally, I am still friends with Sally.

Participants also developed friendships in the group which have been sustained since moving away.

(Harmony) Over the years I have kept in contact with Jacky, and I’ve kept in contact with Shanti, and through Shanti I’ve heard about Sam and Vanessa and all different kinds of people that way … You just hear about where people are at and what they are doing and all that sort of thing, which is good because I like all those people, they were all interesting people. Everybody that I meet really has something to offer.

(Philip) When I see somebody who was in it, there is a connection there or friendliness there, ‘cause I was around a lot of time. Well, Peter is probably the one that we know the most because he is down the road now, but if I meet somebody that I knew in those days there is certainly a connection.

Friends or social networks seemed to be as important for moving away as they were for initial affiliation with the group. Having friends to share experiences may have helped those, in their lives after Siddha Yoga, to not feel isolated throughout their experience of living without the organisation. For many of the participants, life after the organisation would be something they had in common, whether or not they chose to sustain some or no belief in Siddha Yoga, or become affiliated with another group.

Discussion There are certainly different ways individuals have been involved in Siddha Yoga and these types of involvement appeared to have affected their moving away to a life after

215 Siddha Yoga. It appears from the study there are three distinct, although not exhaustive, groups that have emerged: firstly, those for whom Siddha Yoga and spirituality became the centre of their lives and who offered total commitment to the group, usually by living and working with the group; second, those who experimented with Siddha Yoga and spirituality as an alternative lifestyle and offered total commitment to the group for a limited time; and third, those for whom Siddha Yoga and spirituality enhanced their lives but who offered minimal commitment to the group in relation to living and working with the group. These three distinct types of involvement are not an evaluation of the participants’ commitment, or an attempt to present a hierarchy, but are the considered trajectories of involvement presented by these participants’ experiences. All of the participants appeared to engage with Siddha Yoga Practice in a way that suited their personal situations which, for most, changed over time.

For those who spent only a few years living or working in the ashram, especially those who were quite young, Siddha Yoga appeared only a brief departure from other life possibilities and, for some, a healthy detour from seemingly unhealthy prior lifestyles. It has been long recognised that affiliation to NRMs is relatively short lived (Barker, 1984; Wright, 1988). Even so, it is difficult to know what personal and professional life possibilities members may have missed out on, especially as young adults. This was highlighted by Jessica who considered that, after leaving Siddha Yoga, she started to focus on her personal and professional life much later than others of her age who had not been involved, which made her appear or feel immature. Fuchs (1988), who interviewed 72 ex-Catholic nuns, found that many who had entered the convent as young adults, upon leaving 15 to 20 years later, felt immature in comparison with those they met in the general society, especially in regard to sexual relationships. Many of those in Fuchs (1988) study, like some in the present study, also felt they had missed out on personal and professional life opportunities and the years spent in the convent was time wasted. Sexual immaturity and the lack of focus on personal goals was also a significant finding from Maples’ (2006) study of Western monks leaving a monastery following many years of involvement. However, those in the present study who never committed to living or working in ashrams for any significant periods and continued to focus on their personal careers, did not appear to have any difficulty in adjusting to life after moving away from Siddha Yoga, especially those who still considered Muktananda to be their guru. Overwhelmingly, the participants who had the most

216 difficulty refocusing their lives after Siddha Yoga were those who spent a substantial period of time living in an ashram and working for the organisation. They had invested a substantial portion of their working lives in the group without material gain and, therefore, had little to build upon when leaving. There was some expertise gained from involvement, including teaching or organisational skills, which some of the participants used to gain employment. However, although fortunate enough to have gained well-paid work, they were beginning their careers outside the ashram at a comparatively late age and may have been disadvantaged by their long affiliation in regard to personal and financial gains. For these participants, there was some animosity regarding their affiliation.

Four of the participants who discussed difficulties in relation to refocussing their lives after moving away from Siddha Yoga, highlighted some important issues for those who have spent substantial periods living in and working for a movement. The main issues highlighted by these four participants were: lack of social supports, crisis of faith, loss of community, depression, grief, stilted emotional development, loss of potential educational development, and loss of potential career and financial development. Some of those difficulties discussed by the participants appear to be common to those who have left what Goffman has termed ‘total institutions’ such as monasteries, convents, psychiatric hospitals or prisons (Fuchs, 1988; Goffman, [1961]1981; Maple, 2007). These types of issues were also reported in Boeri’s (2002) study of female ex-members of the group The Children of God/The Family, and are considered by Tobias (1994) to be part of the general experience of ex-cult members. However, it must be acknowledged that there were others with similar periods of involvement and commitment who did not report such difficulties. The main difference may be that others in this study who gave similar amounts of time and commitment to the group, at the time of the interviews, still considered Muktananda as their guru and thus may have had some consistency in their beliefs and social networks after moving away. Therefore, their experience of life after Siddha Yoga appeared to follow a relatively smooth transition because they may have had less to adjust to in a psychological sense. It seems they were able to be negative towards - and have nothing to do with - the organisation of Siddha Yoga, yet retain aspects of the belief system and share these with like-minded others.

217 Given that the guru was, for many of the participants, the one who had initiated their spiritual awakening, to then become ‘negative’ towards the guru may also mean to become ‘negative’ towards their own spiritual awakening and continuing experience. Therefore, it appears to be one thing to move away from the organisation but another to, as Elizabeth suggested some had done, ‘throw the baby out with the bath water’ by focusing on the ‘negative’ aspects of Siddha Yoga. Many of the participants have not tended to focus negatively on their experience, nor have they given their involvement any great deal of thought. Barker (1997, p.134) recognises that ex-members are likely to have ambivalent feelings about their experience in the group. However, most participants have tended to take from their experience of Siddha Yoga those things that appealed to them. What the participants took away with them varied from a comparatively healthy diet and lifestyle to most of the beliefs and practices of Siddha Yoga including sustained belief in the founding guru. Those who were with Shanti Mandir or Shiva Yoga at the time of the interviews appear to have stayed closely within the same belief system of Siddha Yoga by participating in a schism organisation.

Of all the 32 participants, there are few with what may be considered completely ‘new’ forms of spiritual practices. Many continued to practice Siddha Yoga without an organisation and others practiced Siddha Yoga with schism organisations. Others who affiliated with spiritual organisations outside the lineage of Siddha Yoga Practice, did so within a guru-disciple tradition. For most of the participants, their belief in a guru- disciple tradition has remained intact. Only those who have who moved away completely from Siddha Yoga, no longer see relevance in the guru-disciple tradition. For them, their affiliation could be seen as a pathway to ‘no religion’.

Many of the participants have kept their faith in Muktananda even though they no longer affiliate with Siddha Yoga. Many of the participants also share an aesthetic attraction for India, Indian paraphernalia and incense. That snowball sampling was an effective means of recruiting participants for this study is testament to the continuing friendships and relationships between individuals and groups who were once involved with Siddha Yoga.

218 Conclusion This chapter on life after Siddha Yoga presented and discussed the findings in relation to participants’ experiences after moving away. It is important to highlight that life after involvement with Siddha Yoga has meant very different things for different participants in this study. For some, their sustained faith in Siddha Yoga Practice or Muktananda made their experience valuable rather than regrettable. For others, a loss of faith in Siddha Yoga and the guru did not make their whole experience regrettable; although, some did consider their long and dedicated affiliation a waste of their youth and regretted the loss of personal and professional goals and achievements.

The following chapter, Chapter 11, presents the final discussion of the overall findings of the study. This next chapter also restates the initial research problem, research questions, some implications from the findings, suggested directions for research and the thesis conclusion.

219 Chapter 11

The Varieties of Religious Experience

Borrowing William James’ book title, The Varieties of Religious Experience, what is evidenced most strongly from the findings of this study is that individuals’ involvement in a Siddha Yoga Practice presents a variety of experiences in regard to attraction, affiliation and disenchantment which is not helpfully understood by adopting a brainwashing perspective. I have organised these variations into major themes in the previous findings chapters which addressed the initial research problem restated here from Chapter 1:

If a brainwashing model of affiliation does not give an adequate explanation for cult/NRM involvement, how else might it be understood? What is the experience of those who spend significant parts of their lives involved in these types of movements? How do people become attracted and get involved, and what is their experience of leaving and life after the movement? How do movements such as these develop? Can something be learned from individuals’ participation in cults/NRMs which might be helpful for gaining an understanding of both those who thrive as well as those who appear to be harmed by their involvement? And how might this knowledge be beneficial to members of the helping professions who encounter members or ex-members in a therapeutic helping relationship or other contexts?

This chapter, the final chapter of this thesis, brings together a summary of the findings and discussions that have been presented in chapters 6 through to 10. The present chapter also revisits the research process by reiterating the aims and objectives, the research questions and methods that have informed this study of Siddha Yoga Practice. The final sections of the chapter highlight some implications of the study, suggested directions for research, my final reflections on the study, and the thesis conclusion.

220 Revisiting the Research Process The aim of the research, as stated in Chapter 5, was to gain a fuller understanding of cult/NRM involvement than had been presented by proponents of the brainwashing thesis, especially by those in the helping professions. The primary objective of this study was, therefore, to inform the helping professions, which include psychologists, counsellors and my own profession of social work. I was interested in why the individuals participating in this study became involved in Siddha Yoga and what were its attractions. Also, how involvement may have changed their lives and how these changes were manifested, including the impact of the involvement. And what were the effects and process of moving away from Siddha Yoga. A secondary objective was to learn about the growth of Swami Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia and add to the growing literature in sociology on New Religious Movements. This exploration of the development of Siddha Yoga Practice was important for two reasons: firstly, it had not yet been addressed in any study and, secondly, it helped to gain an understanding of the individuals’ input into and experience of the development of the movement.

Listed below are the particular research questions that were presented in Chapter 5 which have been addressed in this thesis. These questions, along with the above aims and objectives, have given structure and focus to this study of cult/NRM involvement:

1) What are the different pathways and attractions individuals recognised in relation to their initial contact with Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga Practice? 2) Did becoming involved in Siddha Yoga change their lives and, if so, how were these changes manifested? 3) What were the effects of being involved in Siddha Yoga Practice on career, lifestyle, status, and relationships? 4) Why did these individuals move away from Siddha Yoga? What did the experience of moving away entail? How did they experience moving away? 5) How did the Siddha Yoga Practice (Siddha Yoga (SYDA), Shanti Mandir, Shiva Yoga) develop in Australia?

To explore these questions the study used a qualitative framework which was informed by grounded theory, ethnography and phenomenology. The strength of this study’s

221 qualitative design, which incorporated mixed and interconnected interpretive practices, was that it allowed the presentation of a “rich” or “thick” description of the participants’ experience (Bryman, 1999; Denzin & Lincoln, 2003a; Geertz, 1960; Lofland, 1971; Silverman, 2006).

Summary of Findings The major findings and discussions of the thesis are presented under the broad headings: Attraction, Affiliation and Disenchantment. Attraction includes participants’ discovery of Siddha Yoga and aspects they found appealing about the movement. Affiliation focuses on the participants’ engagement with Siddha Yoga and their experience of the growth of the movement in Australia. Finally, Disenchantment relates to participants’ movement away from Siddha Yoga and their lives after involvement.

Attraction Chapter 6, the first of the findings chapters, presented the participants’ discovery of Muktananda’s Siddha Yoga. The use of the term discovery rather than recruitment in this study came out of the participants’ usage of the word in interviews to relate to their initial contact with Siddha Yoga or Swami Muktananda. It may be a misnomer to regard becoming involved with an NRM as a ‘discovery’, given that for some there certainly seems to have been unfortunate outcomes. But for all the participants in this study there was a sense of discovery either within themselves or through participation in the new- found community. The notion of discovery seems to bear little relation to what is usually described as recruitment or coercion (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Larson, 1997; Ward, 2000; 2002; Whitsett, 2003). However, it did not appear that anybody in this study was intentionally recruited to Siddha Yoga by specific covert techniques such as being invited to a meal or weekend retreat under false pretences, as identified in past studies of the Unification Church (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006). Nor was there any formal mission to proselytise reported by participants. In fact, Siddha Yoga had not been particularly well organised when most of the participants in this study discovered it. Moreover, the fact that it was not particularly well organised was one of the attractions of the fledgling movement. As Siddha Yoga developed and as more people became involved, the possibility of a member introducing another to Siddha Yoga was heightened. This seemed most likely in relation to people who had some interest in a yoga tradition. Because many of the participants were spiritually interested, especially in eastern traditions, they were already networking within what

222 Campbell (1972) has described as a cultic milieu of spiritually-interested individuals, and as likely to come across Siddha Yoga or a Siddha Yoga devotee as any other tradition.

However, it has also been seen that there were those in this study who had no prior interest in seeking out a movement such as Siddha Yoga, who had been introduced by family members or medical practitioners. This form of introduction I have considered to be reflective of the larger web of human relationships as proposed by Arendt (1998), and would include being introduced through an individual’s pre-existing community and family ties, rather than that of a cultic milieu as proposed by Campbell (1972). Even so, however participants discovered Siddha Yoga there was something about the group or Swami Muktananda that was attractive for them.

My use of the notion of attraction would also be counter to a coercive model of affiliation. What individuals may find attractive about a movement or religion is often overlooked unless it is negatively constructed; for example, the need for a father figure in the male guru or god (Freud, 1985; Fromm, 1963; Puttick, 1997). However, many researchers have acknowledged that interpersonal bonds are an attractive feature of NRMs and are important for fostering commitment to the group (Howell, 1997; Lofland, 1966; Stark & Bainbridge, 1980, 1981). The participants in this study found many things attractive about Siddha Yoga, and most continue to do so. As well as considering that, for participants, Siddha Yoga may have (even if for a time) answered some of life’s difficult questions on being and meaning, as has been proposed by many as an aspect of the role of religion (Durkheim, 1965; O'Dea, 1966; Weber 1965), it also simply addressed community and lifestyle preferences such as eating healthy foods and the camaraderie of fellow travellers on a spiritual journey.

A major attraction of Siddha Yoga for participants in this study was around spiritual experience, as presented and discussed in Chapter 8. The exploration of spiritual experience has been a neglected aspect of the study of religion in sociology, especially NRMs. In studies of NRMs, however, it has been understood as important in the process of conversion and continued affiliation (Howell, 1997; Rambo, 1993). Spiritual experience in reference to initial involvement with Siddha Yoga was significant in two ways. First, for those who had what they considered a spiritual experience before their

223 discovery of the group, Siddha Yoga helped to contextualise their prior experience within the philosophy of the group. For others who had what they considered a spiritual experience in the environment of Siddha Yoga, or in the presence of the guru, this appeared to validate their new-found spiritual path. Howell (1997) found that spiritual experience is very important in fostering commitment in a group, especially if the nature of that experience relates to the group’s philosophy. Many of the participants, like those in James’ ([1902]1979) study, experienced a connection with something greater than themselves. These experiences, however, which are often referred to as ‘non-ordinary experiences’, are vague enough in content to relate to a broad variety of Eastern and Western religious traditions (Howell, 1997; Forman, 1999; James, 1979; Katz, 1983). Therefore, it is not so surprising that some of what the participants experienced as spiritual appeared to easily fit the philosophy of Siddha Yoga. The key issue here, however, is not to assess a spiritual experience, but rather to acknowledge, as Howell (1997) has found and the present study supports, that these types of experience help to foster an individual’s commitment to a religious group. The fostering of commitment to a group appears to be possible either with a spiritual/religious experience which occurred prior to meeting the group, or with the group.

Many of the participants experienced a palpable energy in the presence of the guru. For some, meeting the guru was the occasion of their initial experience of Shaktipat (spiritual awakening). However, there was also something eminently social about most individuals’ numinous experience with the guru. ‘Some of what people experience as religious experience may be put down to a crowd effect or the charismatic appeal of a leader. Usually the combination goes together as part of the theatrics involved in promoting charisma’ (Healy, 2006a, p.307). In a previous paper, I compared the phenomenological experience of meeting with the guru with the philosopher Levinas’ face-to-face encounter with the other (Healy, 2006a). For Levinas (2000), in the face of the other there is access to the infinite. I have argued that the guru is given credit for an experience of the infinite which is common among all face-to-face encounters (Healy, 2006a). However, there were also individuals in this study who, while alone, experienced what they considered to be the infinite or god. Whether the participants experienced sense phenomena that they considered spiritual, alone, in the crowd, or in the presence of the guru, this experience was their initial conversion experience or Shaktipat. For many of the participants the meeting with the guru (even within a dream)

224 was the beginning of their spiritual journey with Siddha Yoga and a major factor in their continuing commitment or belief in the path. As seen in this study, the initial so-called conversion experience (in the form of sense phenomena which participants considered spiritual) was only the beginning of a conversion process that unfolded as participants became more actively involved. Although some participants had what Lofland and Skonovd (1981) would define as a mystical conversion, which is considered to be instantaneous - as in the example of Paul on the road to Damascus or that of Shaktipat - this was only part of their process of conversion to Siddha Yoga. Researchers have noted that conversion is a process in which the individual interacts with the new belief system over time (Balch, 1980; Rambo, 1999; Richardson, 1985). Participants in this study were moved significantly by their initial spiritual experience and undertook to find out more about Siddha Yoga and the guru. The participants began to read literature, discuss their experiences with group members and listen to ‘experience talks’ at Siddha Yoga meetings. One of the most generally accepted aspects of Lofland and Stark’s (1965) ‘world saver’ model is that of interpersonal bonds (Malinowski, 2004, pp 15-16). Their ‘world saver’ model expresses the importance of social bonds and close contact between current and new members in perpetuating the new belief system (Lofland, 1966, p.8). In the present study it is certainly evident that participants began to understand their spiritual experience, the guru and Siddha Yoga through close contact and discussion with other members. However, it must be noted that the initial close contact between current and new members was, for the most part, limited to a number of hours, a few days per week. Outside of their time with the group the participants tended to go about their daily lives as they had before their involvement with the group. Invariably, some did begin to dedicate more and more of their time to the Siddha Yoga centres and or ashrams.

Affiliation How participants chose to follow their newly discovered path varied significantly. Barker (1997, p.135) recognises that each individual and each group they are involved in should be considered independently. In Chapter 8, it was seen that involvement in Siddha Yoga did not, in a practical sense, mean the same thing for all participants in this study. For some, it meant becoming a resident in a local ashram, while for others, it was to be resident in the Indian ashram or being ‘on staff’ with the guru on tour. Yet there were those who would visit an ashram or centre regularly but chose not dedicate any

225 significant time to the running of the ashram or centre. Then there were those who, after receiving Shaktipat from the guru, considered it up to them personally to continue the practices and had no need for an organisation or an ashram. What seems to be present is that, within the variety of people attracted to Siddha Yoga in this study, some were willing to dedicate a lot of time to develop and sustain the movement, while others gave limited time, and still others gave none, preferring to act only as consumers of the spiritual practice. Therefore, each of the participants appeared to engage with Siddha Yoga Practice in a way that suited their personal situations. Each of these expressions of involvement appeared to have been accommodated by the group and the belief system.

In Chapter 8, it was seen that the participants’ experiences of the guru were a major part of their spiritual life in Siddha Yoga. The experiences of the guru, however, varied among the participants. Whereas, for some, the guru was god, for others, he/she was simply a teacher. Some related to an inner experience of the guru while others were attracted to the physical person. Participants gained an understanding of the guru within the Siddha Yoga tradition, especially that of Kashmir Shaivism. What was surprising was the participants’ use of Christian analogies to discuss their experience of the guru. The use of these analogies has shown how some of the participants had integrated their understanding of the guru and Siddha Yoga into their existing schema or that of a dominant religious reference in Western culture. Many philosophers of religion regard religious experience as generated from social interactions and grounded in the particular culture of origin (Katz, 1983; Proudfoot, 1985). The participants’ point of reference for discussion of spirituality or experience of the guru may have been informed by their culture of origin, though the phenomenological experience may, as Forman (1999) and Hume (1997) argue, be universal.

The ways in which participants experienced their affiliation to Siddha Yoga is an important finding from this study. Participants, although involved in the same group and practices, participated in the organisation at differing intensities and in different ways. It is no wonder, then, that there are such conflicting views presented by sociologists and the so-called anti-cult movement on the deleterious effects of some NRMs (Anthony, 1999; Barker, 1984; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Galanter, 1998; Verdier, 1977). From the findings of this study, it seems that a variety of participants can have a variety of experiences of the same group, and some of this appears to have to do with how actively

226 they had participated with the organisation, especially in relation to time dedicated to the group rather than to their own careers or personal goals. Those in this study who communicated the most regret with reference to lengthy involvement are those who did not or could not develop their own life goals because of their active commitment to the group. This will be discussed further but first I want to highlight from Chapter 7 the growth of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia.

One of the objectives of this study was to explore how Siddha Yoga Practice developed in Australia. (Chapter 7 addressed this in exploring participants’ experiences of Siddha Yoga life.) The interesting thing about discussing the early movement with the participants in this study was learning how humble its beginnings really were. The role of participants in developing and sustaining this early movement, in opening centres and experimenting with communal living, was important in shaping the organisation. Like many of the Indian guru-disciple traditions to enter the West towards the end of the 1960s and early 70s, Siddha Yoga developed relatively quickly into a complex organisation with ashrams and centres in many countries. When considering the development of cults/NRMs there is often a focus on the leader as its creator, developer and main benefactor of the group. In this study, the participants’ role in forming the movement has also been recognised. A movement such as Siddha Yoga is made up of people, and the people in this study have been seen as having helped shape the movement. This was particularly apparent in the early years of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia before the establishment of the Siddha Yoga Foundation in America.

From the perspective of the participants in this study, Siddha Yoga in Australia began as a grassroots movement. It appears people came together as a community around the experience they had with Swami Muktananda during his visits in 1970, ‘74 and finally ‘78, or when they visited him in India. The most notable examples of community building from this study are the participants’ early attempts at communal living in Melbourne and Sydney. The participants attempted to model in Australia, to some extent, the ashram environment they had experienced in India. The Sydney communal home was even called, by the participants, the North Sydney Ashram, and although it had no formal status as a Siddha Yoga ashram (mainly because formal ties had yet to be established), the participants ran a daily schedule of meditation and chanting, and even held weekend Intensives. As well as early communal living, small informal chanting

227 groups sprung up all around Australia. Devotees congregated at different houses on different days of the week. Those who had been to India taught the others the various chants and shared stories of being with Swami Muktananda, which would later be formalised in Siddha Yoga as ‘experience talks’.

From the findings of this study, the individual members have been seen to have played important roles in the development of Siddha Yoga, the subsequent schisms and, to some extent, Amma’s group in Australia. One small group of ex-members who left Siddha Yoga and subsequently met for chanting evenings in Melbourne during the 1990s, would go on to assist Amma’s first Australian tour, help Swami Shankarananda of Shiva Yoga establish his initial following in Melbourne, and assist Swami Nityananda in regaining admission into Australia. The importance of highlighting this activity is that, although these groups can be seen as guru-centred movements, they are comprised of individuals who often help to shape the movement. The guru does not exist in a vacuum, there are pre-existing relationships which the guru arrives into, and these pre-existing relationships are amongst people. Swami Prabhupada’s arrival in New York’s East Village at the height of the hippy movement in the 1960s and the subsequent growth of his Hare Krishna movement through participation of these individuals is a clear example of a guru networking within pre-existing relationships amongst people (McDermott, 1975). For the purposes of the present study, the pre- existing relations among families, friends and neighbours formed an important social network which Swami Muktananda entered in the early 1970s. Campbell (1978) has referred to the cultic or occult milieu as the space where spiritual paths or issues are discovered and shared, although this appears to make strange or other what is a natural state of human activity.

What the findings of this study suggest is the need to de-emphasise the mysteriousness of cult/NRM involvement which is often proposed by those who rely on a brainwashing explanation. It seems that the very thing that helps regular community links to grow also helps a cult/NRM community. The early growth of a movement, as discussed in Chapter 8, has shown the importance of existing social ties in assisting in the growth of the movement. By understanding the pre-existing web of relationships it becomes less of a mystery as to why some people become part of a movement and how movements grow. However, there has to be something attractive about the group – though this attraction

228 may be as simple as a healthy lifestyle or being surrounded by a supportive community. What eventuates out of an individual’s affiliation may vary, even in the same movement, which has also been evidenced in individuals’ movement away and life after involvement.

Disenchantment The participants in this study had all moved away from Siddha Yoga and, as I stated in Chapter 5, I had wanted initially to include current devotees of Siddha Yoga in the study but was unable to gain access. However, with each of the 32 participants I was able to discuss their movement away from Siddha Yoga. In relation to involvement with cults/NRMs, especially for those interested in counselling ex-members, moving away is possibly the most important concern. Most of the direct work with individuals involved in cults/NRMs is with those no longer affiliated with the movement, although it must be considered that those who seek help are in the minority (Barker, 1997). In this study, none of the participants sought counselling or reached out to the so-called anti-cult organisations. This is not to say that some may have benefited from some kind of counselling or assistance, but simply that only a minority of ex-members actually seek counselling for issues related to involvement (Barker, 1997). The same could be said of relationship difficulties; not all those who have difficulties or break up seek counselling. There is also a concern that most counselling offered to ex-members of groups tends to be informed by theories of brainwashing. In this study, I have argued that the brainwashing thesis, when applied to cult/NRM involvement, is not adequate for addressing the variety of experiences of participants in these movements. It is especially inadequate in addressing the issues of an individual’s movement away from a group, given the effects of brainwashing are assumed to be so powerful (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Verdier, 1977). Unassisted moving away appears antithetical to the brainwashing claims of the proponents of this perspective.

Perhaps the most challenging aspect of this study in relation to brainwashing claims is that individuals moved away from the group for different reasons and in different ways. This has shown participants’ capacity for personal agency, which proponents of brainwashing tend to understate (Barker 1997; Richardson, 1985). I have preferred to use the term ‘move away’ or ‘movement away’ rather than ‘left’ because for many of the participants in this study theirs was a process that involved various issues over time

229 and not generally a sudden action. This process of moving away was often a long and reflective process which, for some, reignited earlier doubts they had dismissed. Similar findings are found in Fuchs’ (1988) study of Catholic nuns leaving a monastery. The significant events highlighted in Chapter 9 certainly played a part in individuals’ movement away from Siddha Yoga, though it did not seem to be any one of these events but rather an accumulation of knowledge of these over time. For some, the organisation no longer appealed to them, given it had changed so much from the one which had first attracted them; also, it was seen that participants’ priorities changed over time. Fuchs’ (1988) study also noted that, after Vatican II and the changes that came with it, many nuns began to reassess their affiliation. The nuns’ increased activity in the world, such as pursuing their own education, led many nuns to eventually leave the confines of the convents (Fuchs, 1988). In the present study there was a variation in how involved the participants were in the routine activities of the ashram or centres. Some participants seemed so distant from the organisation that moving away may not have been a major event. There were also those, like Elizabeth or Susan, who may not have moved away had they not been asked to leave or been forced out of their positions. Considering the different ways individuals have become involved in Siddha Yoga, what their involvement was in practice, and their subsequent movement away from the organisation, it does not seem useful to rely on one overarching explanation.

Life after Siddha Yoga, as shown in Chapter 10, meant very different things for different participants in this study. Here it was seen that some who spent a long time with the group moved on to a new life relatively easily, utilising what they had learned in the group in their new careers. Elizabeth and Susan both spent substantial time dedicated to the group and despite experiencing some initial difficulty with moving on, the skills they acquired in the group helped them to eventually gain well-paid employment. Others, like Jessica and Shannon, felt that the time spent in the group had been a waste of their youth and felt they needed to make up ground after moving away. The reported regret over missed opportunities by some of the participants in this study is supported by other studies of ex-members of NRMs, Catholic nuns and Buddhist monks (Boeri, 2002; Fuchs, 1988; Maple, 2007; Zablocki, 2007). For some, their sustained faith in Siddha Yoga Practice or Swami Muktananda made their experience valuable rather than a cause for regret. For others, a loss of faith did not make the whole and varied experience of being involved in Siddha Yoga regrettable. For example, though

230 Jessica expressed many regrets about her involvement, she also valued the experience. None of the participants who no longer practice or believe in any form of Siddha Yoga Practice regretted their entire experience of Siddha Yoga. For each person, there was something in the experience that they enjoyed and remembered fondly. The things that the participants initially found attractive about Siddha Yoga were also often the very things they reminisced about during the interviews.

Participants in this study appeared to develop their own ideas of what Siddha Yoga was and what they had experienced through the practices. If there are indeed different expressions of involvement in NRMs, as shown by the participants in this study, it may therefore be difficult to have such a fixed notion of cult/NRM involvement such as proposed by the anti-cult movement as being inevitably harmful (Hassan, 1990; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Langone, 1995). Fixed notions of cult/NRM involvement are problematic in at least two ways: one, a group that may not be considered harmful may actually be harmful depending on the individual’s experience; and two, a group that is considered harmful may not be experienced as harmful by those who participate as regular visitors, distant consumers or confirmed believers. It would be difficult to say outright that one group is harmful and that another is not. It may be more reasonable to consider harm occurring in any organised religious group, as has been shown by sexual and psychological abuses of children and adults in mainstream established churches (Ainsworth & Hansen, 2006; Berry, 2000; O’Callaghan & Briggs, 2003; Pitman, 2008; Rossetti, 1995; Schoener, 2008). It may also be reasonable to consider that, for some individuals, any organised religious group may be beneficial. Individual experience in a religious movement is something to consider in all forms of religion, not just in relation to cults/NRMs. It may not be correct or useful to think that everybody of one particular faith had the same experience of that faith. Bouma (2006, p.63) has noted that, in the Australian mainstream religious context, ‘some individuals have begun to be involved in multiple religious groups, adopting beliefs and practices from a range of religions and spiritualities’. Australians also appear less tied to the traditional organisations such as the Catholic or Anglican churches than in previous times, and are likely to see themselves as ‘spiritual but not religious’ (Bouma, 2006; Hudson, 2007). Certainly this shows that there are many individuals from mainstream religions interpreting or practising their particular faith in their own way, just as there are in a Siddha Yoga Practice.

231

In this study it has been seen that participants practiced Siddha Yoga in their own way, eventually taking from it that which had meaning for them. However, some of the participants have been hurt by their relationship with what some thought to be a living god in Swami Muktananda or other gurus. To be treated badly by the guru would be extremely hurtful for the devotee who considers the guru a living god. It may be the most hurtful of all relationships because, if their god is unhappy with them, where are they to derive solace? No doubt similar sentiments may be expressed by those who have been hurt by mainstream religious groups (Berry, 2000; Pitman, 2008; Rossetti, 1995).

Participants’ experience in relation to attraction, affiliation and disenchantment as presented in this study may be helpful towards informing an understanding of involvement with other religious perspectives, even those of the so-called mainstream. Also, it adds an important perspective for social work’s understanding of religious belief systems. For those in the helping professions, it would be important to gain not only an understanding of an individual’s belief system, but also the individual’s particular perspective of and participation in that belief system. Most important is what that religious perspective may mean for the individual and their own lives, rather than what the religious perspective is supposed to mean. Although some groups may appear dogmatic, fundamentalist, or to deviate from societal norms, the practical day-to-day life of a follower may not be consistent with these labels.

The following sections offer some implications of the study and suggested directions for research. This is followed by my reflections on the study and finally the conclusion to the thesis.

Some Implications of the Study The main implication from the present study for the sociology of religion is to affirm Howell’s (1997) recommendation, not yet widely taken up, to more readily include spiritual experience into the study of affiliation to NRMs. One reason for the limited inclusion of spiritual experience may be that many who study NRMs have been caught up in the brainwashing debate (Lewis, 2005; Palmer, 2008; Richardson & Introvigne, 2001; Zablocki & Robbins, 2001). Spiritual experience, defined and known as such from the perspective of the individual, has been seen in this study as an important part

232 of the wider social processes of conversion to the group. Spiritual experience in this study has been seen to influence initial attraction, act as a type of proof of authenticity of the path, promote continued commitment, alleviate doubts and instil a lingering belief or faith in the path even after the individual has become disenchanted with the organisation or its guru/leader.

In reference to social work, it could be valuable, especially in Australia, for the profession to become better informed of the diverse religious orientations in the wider community in an effort towards enhancing social work education, practice and theory in relation to social work’s diverse client population, as suggested by, amongst others, Canda (2003), Gilligan and Furness (2006), Graff (2007) and Holloway (2007). There is a need for Australian social work to learn from examples of spiritually and religiously- aware social work from America, Canada, UK and New Zealand and to consider how these perspectives could inform our own education, theory and practice (Canda, 2002; Coholic, 2007; Holloway, 2007; Nash, 2002).

There are, of course, some issues specific to theological precepts of the variety of NRMs which are not well understood by the helping professions. However, with the assistance of organisations such as Inform (2008), social workers and others in the helping professions can make enquires of sociologists of religion to assist in understanding the theological precepts of specific NRMs. The gathering of resources is already an expectation of social workers and other helping professionals when addressing the various needs of clients. Therefore, informing oneself of an individual’s religious or spiritual perspective could be an important inclusion in this process. However, I have to restate that individuals, even when involved in the same NRM or, as noted, in mainstream Christian churches in Australia (Bouma, 2006; Hudson, 2007), may have a very different experience of the same group or church. It would, therefore, be important to gain an understanding of an individual’s experience and not attempt to overlay what might be considered the expected or common experience.

A major implication of this study is that individuals are not necessarily harmed or deprived by their involvement in this NRM. In fact, from their own perspective, their affiliation may have enhanced their lives in some way. However, consistent with other studies, there were some participants who appeared to have experienced some

233 detrimental consequences from their involvement. It is therefore important, especially from a social work perspective, to seriously consider the implication of these findings. The main implication for social workers and other helping professionals who come into contact with ex-members of NRMs seeking assistance is that they may already have the existing tools to help these types of clients. It may not be necessary to perceive helping those who have moved away from NRMs as an area unrelated to other forms of assistance, such as addressing practical needs or individual and group counselling. In fact, reliance on ideas of ‘brainwashing’ may unduly complicate the therapeutic helping process and may also lead some professionals to feel they may not be adequately equipped to help ex-members. However, the issues some individuals have reported facing after moving away from an NRM – including grief, loss, low self-esteem, the aftermath of sexual and emotional abuse, lack of social supports, financial, educational, and career difficulties (Aronoff-McKibben, Lynn & Malinoski, 2000; Boeri, 2002; Wright, 1991; Zablocki, 2007) – are well within the repertoire of many in the helping professions. Durocher (1999) has found that group process (a common social work intervention) can be an effective strategy used for those who have been adversely affected by NRMs. Trauma, Systemic and Gestalt therapies have also been acknowledged as helpful by therapists working with ex-members of NRMs (Jenkinson, 2007; Knapp, 2008). Within a mainstream religious context, Chicago’s ‘Walk-In Counseling Center’ is an example of helping professionals already addressing issues similar to those reported by some ex-member of cults /NRMs (Schoener, 2008).

The acknowledgment in this study of social work’s relatively recent interest in spirituality and religion, and the place of spirituality and religion in social work practice and education, are important because of its potential role that intersects child protection and religious tolerance. NRMs often only come to public attention in Australia because of claims of child abuse. In the 1990s, 153 children were removed by police and community services departments in NSW and Victoria from The Family, largely on the basis of rumour. They were subsequently returned without charges being laid (Lewis, 1994; Bouma, 2006). Acting on claims of child abuse in an uninformed way can have detrimental effects on children and on the trust of the group towards the larger society (Wilmoth, 2004). Social workers could play an important role when addressing allegations of abuse in NRMs by being better informed of the groups’ beliefs and practices firsthand through research, visits and discussions with the group. It is

234 important to acknowledge that NRMs such as ISKCON and The Family have been accused of and to an extent responsible for child abuse within their groups. However, Wilson and Barker (2005, p.309) claim that, because ISKCON and The Family have addressed their own internal problems and have institutionalised safeguards, children in these movement could conceivably be better protected than children in the general population.

The next section offers some suggestions for future directions for research.

Suggested Directions for Research In the Australian context there is a need to develop a greater understanding of NRMs. Of course, many groups that exist in Australia have been studied in American and European contexts, and although this may give a broad understanding of the same groups in Australia, it seems important to gain specific knowledge of our own groups and their place within the Australian religious scene. This is particularly important given Australia appears to be more tolerant of NRMs than many European countries which have banned certain movements that exist freely in Australia (Palmer, 2008; Richardson, 2004). In Australia, it is important to discover and be aware of what we are being tolerant of and why.

The present study gained participation from individuals who had not been in contact with anti-cult movements or had counselling. It would therefore be important for a future study to compare the experiences of the individuals from this study to a study that has recruited through anti-cult movement networks or counselling services. A comparison of the sampling methods and the effects on the findings could further the understanding of NRM involvement.

Large quantitative surveys focused on individuals’ lives after NRM involvement, including categories such as career paths, regret over involvement, and new affiliations would also be useful to further explore some of the findings presented in this thesis.

The following section is a reflective piece offering some of my own thoughts on the study as I came to the end of the research process.

235 My Reflections on the Study At the beginning of the study one of the participants said he was more interested in how the study would change me. Now at the end of the study I have thought a lot about that myself. When I asked a colleague during my first conference on NRMs what happens to your own beliefs after studying all these other people’s seemingly ‘wacky’ ideas, he said to me, ‘John, eventually the smell fades from your own rose.’ In many ways the smell has faded from my own rose. I have become much less likely to believe, as one participant stated in this study, that a person can be any more spiritually evolved than another. However, while the experience and attraction of a spiritual/religious community stays with me, I would now like to think that I have an altered understanding of spirituality, not one that is necessarily metaphysical, beyond the body, but one that happens between bodies, the feeling of being with others, the sensation of communing with others, being in community. I would therefore have to agree with Durkheim (1915, p.466) that religious forces are human forces. I do not think this minimises or rationalises individuals’ experiences of the religious. For me it is recognition of how amazing individuals are and how in their coming together around common goals and interests they create communities, which even if only for a time, reflect their dreams and hopes for themselves and the world.

The next section concludes this thesis. This section highlights the initial research problem, the limitations of the study and brings together the findings in a distilled format.

236 Conclusion The research problem for this study highlighted that, if a brainwashing model of affiliation does not give adequate explanations for cult/NRM involvement, how else might the phenomenon be understood? My main consideration was finding alternative understandings of cult/NRM involvement which could be used by the helping professions, including social workers who appear reliant on a brainwashing model of affiliation in their work. The ‘if’ in my thesis problem related to the fact that, at the outset, I was not certain a brainwashing model was not important given the general agreement among those in helping professions. However, this thesis has found that involvement in cults/NRMs is not helpfully understood by imposing a brainwashing perspective on individuals’ experience of involvement. In fact, the experience of individuals can be better understood through the lens of the sociology of religion.

The knowledge gained from undertaking this study can inform helping professionals, the so called anti-cult organisations and the profession of social work in regard to involvement with NRMs. It is also hoped that this study may contribute to the sociological knowledge of NRMs, especially in the areas of conversion, affiliation and apostasy. It must be acknowledged that there are limitations to the generalisability of the findings in this study to all NRMs and all individuals’ experience of involvement in these types of movements. This is in part due to the qualitative and ethnographic nature of the study. The purposive sample of 32 participants lends itself to a depth of understanding of individuals’ experience but not to a broad representation of all individuals involved in NRMs. Therefore, there does need to be some caution in relation to the interpretation of the findings, especially in any attempt to generalise the findings to other movements. This is due also to its purposeful focus on Siddha Yoga Practice. There are, of course, a variety of groups with varying perspectives that sit under the umbrella term of NRMs which may or may not have commonalities with Siddha Yoga Practice as presented in this study.

One of the main drivers for this study was my concern, subsequently supported by the literature reviewed, that helping professionals and so called anti-cult organisations place too strong an emphasis on brainwashing as a feature of cult/NRM involvement

237 (Goldberg, 1997; Hassan, 1990; ICSA, 2008; Lalich & Tobias, 2006; Langone, 1995; Shaw, 2003; Ward, 2002). From the present study it appears that involvement in an NRM is a more interactive process than that proposed in brainwashing or mind-control models of involvement. This study has concluded that all of the participants found something attractive about Siddha Yoga which spurred on their initial and continued involvement. In regard to the pathways to involvement, some participants have been seen to have actively sought out such a movement, which I have defined as ‘active seekers’, and others with no apparent interest in seeking out a movement who were introduced to the movement I have defined as ‘accidental seekers’. I have defined both groups as types of seekers because both had made a discovery in their contact with Siddha Yoga or Swami Muktananda. Those who were accidental seekers appeared to have no prior interest in spirituality or yoga; however, the sensation of ‘coming home’, ‘finding what one is looking for’, or ‘just feeling right’ was expressed by both seekers and accidental-seekers.

The attractions of the group for the participants consisted in the novel environment of a Hindu based yoga group which included: new smells, such as aromatic incenses and oils; the seemingly healthy diet and lifestyle of the group; group chanting and meditation sessions; the community and camaraderie fostered by involvement; a context for prior spiritual experiences; spiritual experiences in the group; and the participants’ experience of the guru.

Those things which were attractive to participants also fostered a commitment to the group and to the group’s spiritual perspective. Of these, participants’ spiritual experiences appeared to be a defining aspect of their attraction and sustained commitment. Participants’ experiences of the spiritual, which included personal spiritual experience and their experience of what many referred to as a palpable energy felt in the guru’s presence or in the physical ashram, seemed to validate their chosen path. For most participants, their initial spiritual experience in Siddha Yoga was the defining factor in continued involvement. Spiritual experience was an important part of affiliation which has been seen as validation of initial involvement in the path, sustaining commitment, alleviating doubts and the deferral of moving away. It also appears to guard against retribution towards the group by ex-members. For the ex-

238 members, their experience was real or valuable, even though they acknowledged the dysfunctional aspects of the organisation and did not want further involvement.

Although most of the participants reported gaining an understanding of their spiritual experience in the context of Siddha Yoga (especially that of Kashmir Shaivism), they also tended to use analogies from their prior faiths, usually Christian, to communicate their experience of the spiritual and the guru. Analogies of the guru with Jesus were particularly significant in that they highlighted the ways in which participants have integrated their new experience into their existing schemas.

This study has also identified the participants as active agents in their involvement; this is most notable in the ways in which participants have been seen to have played an active role in the development of the movement. It has been seen that Siddha Yoga in Australia began as a grassroots movement. Individuals who had met with Swami Muktananda started centres in their own homes and some eventually experimented with communal living which emulated their experience in Muktananda’s ashram in India. The Sydney community started their own ashram even before Siddha Yoga had formally developed into what became the Siddha Yoga Foundation. Participants have been seen to have been active in developing the early literature and the format for their early Siddha Yoga meetings or Satsang.

This study suggests that gurus such as Swami Muktananda do not appear in a vacuum. The community ties and pre-existing relationships among individuals are ever present and it was these into which Muktananda arrived, especially in relation to his visits to Australia, on which this study has focused. The finding in this study, that community ties and pre-existing relationships are the ground from which movements grow, is supported by other studies’ findings that a major pathway to involvement is through family and friends and that these pre-existing interpersonal bonds also help to foster commitment to the group (Boeri, 2002; Lofland, 1965; Stark & Bainbridge, 1980, 1981). New Religious Movements, in order to grow, appear to use what is already available through everyday human interactions.

A very important finding from this study is in relation to how differently individuals experienced their involvement in Siddha Yoga. Being involved in Siddha Yoga did not

239 appear to constitute the same thing for all of the participants in this study. In a movement such as Siddha Yoga it appears that some individuals may set the limits of their intensity of involvement in the practical work of the ashrams or centres to suit their life circumstances. This finding is reflective of individuals’ participation in mainstream Christian churches in Australia (Bouma, 2006; Hudson, 2007). Therefore, some were highly-engaged participants with a long period of involvement, some were highly- engaged but time limited participants, while others appeared to act as consumers with little active involvement with the organisation, whilst some with no contact with the organisation appeared to practice Siddha Yoga as a personal spirituality. Each of these types of involvement appeared possible within this movement. Therefore, involvement in an NRM, even in the same NRM, as in mainstream Christian churches in Australia, may in fact mean very different things to differently involved individuals and may not be helpfully understood by using only notions of brainwashing when considering affiliation. A broader notion of religious involvement informed from the sociology of religion would be more useful.

What made individuals move away from Siddha Yoga tended to involve more than one event. However, none of the participants were counselled out of the group by family or planned interventions. The significant events in Siddha Yoga history discussed in this thesis included: Muktananda’s death and the adoption of Nityananda and Gurumayi as co-leaders; Nityananda’s alleged forced removal and harassment by Siddha Yoga devotees; and Muktananda’s alleged sexual relations with female devotees. Each of these events has played a role in participants’ moving away from Siddha Yoga. Even though these significant events led some to reconsider their affiliation, many of the participants drifted away from Siddha Yoga as other life priorities, such as children and career, replaced their involvement. Participants’ priorities also changed with the changing of the organisation. The group they moved away from appeared to no longer resemble what they had first begun to affiliate with.

What appears to have made participants initially unwilling to take seriously any doubts that may have arisen during their involvement seems to have been largely reflected in two Siddha Yoga concepts: ‘negativity’, and ‘trusting your own experience’. Siddha Yoga’s frequent reference to personal doubts or apostate views as ‘negativity’, discussed by the participants, appeared to quash for a time doubts arising from gossip or

240 rumours heard about the significant events discussed in this study. Further, Siddha Yoga’s focus on ‘trusting your own experience’ in reference to spiritual experience also appeared to allay the dissonance arising from any ‘negative’ gossip or rumours they may have heard. The mystical and experiential aspects of the participants’ contact with Siddha Yoga certainly were difficult for the participants to dismiss. Participants, therefore, tended to trust their inner experience over rumours; that is, until the rumours became difficult for them to deny.

All of the individuals in this study moved away from their involvement with Siddha Yoga, which in itself is an antithesis to a brainwashing understanding of involvement. However, moving away meant different things to the different participants, as did involvement. Possibly the clearest notion of moving away can be seen in those who moved away and no longer considered Siddha Yoga or the guru to be a valuable part of their life following their involvement. However, there were those who moved away from the organisation of Siddha Yoga but still regarded themselves on a Siddha Yoga path - which had begun with Muktananda - and sustained a faith in Muktananda while holding no allegiance to either of his successors. Then there were those who moved on to schisms of Siddha Yoga, to Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir and to Shankarananda’s Shiva Yoga, and were also still involved in a Siddha Yoga Practice.

Those in this study who appeared to have the most difficulty in relation to life after Siddha Yoga were those who had dedicated significant periods of their time solely to working for the group. Consistent with findings in other studies (Boeri, 2002; Durocher, 1999; Tobias, 1994; Zablocki, 2007), some participants in this study reported having difficulties in relation to: feelings of grief over loss of community and support the Siddha Yoga community offered during affiliation; loss of opportunities such as education, career and personal life goals; and financial instability and delayed emotional maturity. Most of these difficulties were addressed over time by the participants, and the skills developed in the movement (such as public speaking, teaching, management and administration) were valuable towards addressing some of these difficulties. Regret over what was perceived as a wasted youth and wasted life opportunities appeared to linger in some of the participants, as it did in others studies of ex-members of NRMs, Catholic nuns and Buddhist monks (Boeri, 2002; Fuchs, 1988; Maple, 2007; Zablocki, 2007). Even so, none of the participants in this study reported regretting their entire experience

241 of their involvement in Siddha Yoga. This study suggests that the issues faced by those who are harmed by their involvement in an NRM are not all that dissimilar to those who experience abuse in mainstream religions.

The participants in this study have graciously shared their experiences of being attracted to, affiliating and becoming disenchanted with Siddha Yoga. Their experiences have shown that involvement in a New Religious Movement may not be reduced to simple stereotypes, especially those of brainwashing. What these participants have shared and the interpretation that I have offered in this thesis will, I hope, inform those in social work and other helping professions. For the sociology of religion, this thesis attempts to contribute to the growing empirical knowledge of New Religions Movements in Australia.

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266 Appendices

Appendix 1 A lineage of Siddha Yoga Practice

Bhagavan Nityananda circa 1886-1961

Thought to be born enlightened. Was the guru of

Muktananda, and is a revered India saint

Muktananda Paramahamsa 1908-1982 Disciple of Bhagavan Nityananda. Declared himself the successor of Nityananda’s lineage, which he latter called Siddha Yoga

Both Guru Mayi and Nityananda junior, siblings of long-term disciples of Muktananda, were named co-successors of the movement Siddha Yoga in 1981 and subsequently parted ways in 1985 over some differences.

Nityananda 1962 became a Guru Mayi 1955 Mahamandaleshwar and

continued as leader of began the movement Shanti Siddha Yoga Mandir in 1987

The fracturing of Siddha Yoga in 1985 caused many Swamis and devotees to move away or choose between the two successors. The majority who stayed within the tradition stayed with Guru Mayi, while a minority supported Nityananda’s Shanti Mandir. Some of the leading swami’s also created their own movements, most notably Swami Shankarananda.

Swami Shankarananda1940, one of Muktananda’s earliest disciples began his own Ashram in Melbourne on the Mornington Peninsula in the mid 90’s called Shiva Yoga

Each of the extensions of Muktananda’s original movement sees themselves as part of the tradition or lineage that began with Bhagavan Nityananda. Many ex-Siddha Yoga devotees have also moved on to other guru’s outside of this lineage, most notably Amma. Amma 1953 The Hugging Mother. Today one of India’s most prominent Gurus

Other groups that consider themselves part of Swami Muktananda lineage include: Master Charles’ Synchronicity, Jivan Mukta Swami Ganapati’s Siddha Shiva Yoga, Acharya Kedar’s Supreme Meditation, Mark Griffin’s Hard Light Center of Awakening, and Sally Kempton.

267 Appendix 2 X-Sieve: CMU Sieve 2.2 Subject: RE: PHD RESEARCH Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2005 11:10:45 -0400 X-MS-Has-Attach: X-MS-TNEF-Correlator: Thread-Topic: PHD RESEARCH Thread-Index: AcXZx5eWNU5ZDCQtQbWSYTsCl6PcMwCCMZ9g From: To: X-Spam-Status: No, hits=1.089 required=5 tests=[HTML_90_100=0.189, HTML_MESSAGE=0.001, HTML_TEXT_AFTER_BODY=0.151, HTML_TEXT_AFTER_HTML=0.205, NO_REAL_NAME=0.178, SUBJ_ALL_CAPS=0.365] X-Spam-Level: *

Dear John,

Thank you for giving your time to speak with me on behalf of Siddha Yoga about your PHD. I enjoyed talking with you very much and I appreciated the great respect I felt in your words and also in your letter to Gurumayi. Perhaps we will get an opportunity to meet sometime in Sydney when I get back to OZ again.

I passed on your request in regard to a written statement from Siddha Yoga and I am sending you the response I received.

I wish you every success with your PHD.

With love, Swamiji.

"The SYDA Foundation is not able to offer support with research nor to endorse dissertations by individuals. Best wishes for your success and thank you for writing."

Indrani Weber, Permissions, SYDA Foundation.

268 Appendix 3

269 Appendix 4

Approval No (05 2 142)

THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES AND PARTICIPATING ORGANISATIONS

PARTICIPANT INFORMATION STATEMENT AND CONSENT FORM

‘Leave your ego with your shoes’: Swami Muktananda's Spiritual Legacy

You are invited to participate in a study of individuals’ prior or present experience of Siddha Yoga Practice. I hope to learn; 1) why you became involved and the attractions of the movement; 2) how the involvement influenced your life and how these influences were manifested; 3) the general impact of your involvement; 4) for those no longer involved, the effects and process of moving away, and; 5) gain an understanding of the development of the Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia. Building a picture of the history of the movement in Australia from the lived experience of the participants is also an important focus of the study. This study is undertaken to add to the growing understanding of alternative spiritualities in Australia. You were selected as a possible participant in this study because you have at least 2 years experience of Siddha Yoga Practice in Australia.

If you decide to participate, I will interview you at a place of your convenience for 1-2 hours, and if possible, on two occasions, at least a month apart. This is to give time for us to reflect on our discussion, and consider other important issues we may wish to further explore. In some ways the interviewing process becomes a telling of your story and issues that are important to you. The interviews will be tape-recorded and transcribed for the purpose of getting an accurate account of your experience and so that I can attempt to develop themes from your and other participant’s perceptions. If at anytime during the interview you wish to discontinue, you are free do so without prejudice to your future relations with The University of New South Wales or participating organisations.

Any information that is obtained in connection with this study and that can be identified with you will remain confidential and will be disclosed only with your permission, except as required by law. If you give me your permission by signing this document, I plan to discuss and publish the results in conference papers, journal articles, PhD thesis and finally a book. In any publication, general themes from the findings will be discussed in such a way that you cannot be identified. The tape recordings from the interviews, transcripts and files will be kept securely in a locked cabinet at the

270 University of New South Wales that only I have access to for the duration of the study, and destroyed after seven years.

Complaints may be directed to the Ethics Secretariat, The University of New South Wales, SYDNEY 2052 AUSTRALIA (phone 9385 4234, fax 9385 6648, email [email protected]). Any complaint you make will be treated in confidence and investigated, and you will be informed of the outcome.

Your decision whether or not to participate will not prejudice your future relations with The University of New South Wales or participating organizations. If you decide to participate, you are free to withdraw your consent and to discontinue participation at any time without prejudice.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me. If you have any additional questions later, I will be happy to answer them. Mr, John Paul Healy, Home: 93806679, Mobile: 0404615071.

You will be given a copy of this form to keep.

271 THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW SOUTH WALES (AND THE OTHER PARTICIPATING ORGANISATION[S])

PARTICIPANT INFORMATION STATEMENT AND CONSENT FORM (continued) ‘Leave your ego with your shoes’: Swami Muktananda's Spiritual Legacy

You are making a decision whether or not to participate. Your signature indicates that, having read the Participant Information Statement, you have decided to take part in the study.

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Signature of Research Participant Signature of Witness

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. (Please PRINT name) (Please PRINT name)

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Date Nature of Witness

…………………………………………………… Signature(s) of Investigator(s)

.……………………………………………………. Please PRINT Name

REVOCATION OF CONSENT ‘Leave your ego with your shoes’: Swami Muktananda's Spiritual Legacy

I hereby wish to WITHDRAW my consent to participate in the research proposal described above and understand that such withdrawal WILL NOT jeopardise any treatment or my relationship with The University of New South Wales, (other participating organisation[s] or other professional[s]).

…………………………………………………… .……………………………………………………. Signature Date

…………………………………………………… Please PRINT Name

The section for Revocation of Consent should be forwarded to (John Paul Healy, Department of Social Work, Level 15, Mathews Building, University of New South Wales, Sydney, NSW, Australia, 2052).

272 Appendix 5

Approval No (05 2 142)

Dear

My name is John Paul Healy and I am currently undertaking a PhD study at the University of New South Wales (UNSW) into individuals’ experience of Swami Muktananda's Spiritual Legacy of Siddha Yoga Practice. I was in fact fully involved in Siddha Yoga Practice through the Sydney Ashram from 1981-1985, and was given the name Rahul. Presently I work as a researcher and tutor at University of New South Wales while completing my PhD into New Religious Movements (new to the west). On a personal level this study furthers my own knowledge and interest into religious and spiritual practices. On a professional level, I think a study such as this will illustrate some of the diversity in spiritual practice that exists in Australia. Exploring personal experience of Siddha Yoga Practice gives voice to what I feel will be rich and yet untapped resource.

Attached to this letter is a participant information statement and consent form. This form explains my study and what I wish to explore with you. It also outlines the interviewing process and confidentiality details. I hope to begin interviewing from the beginning of January. Please read the form and if you then decide to participate in this study please contact me at your own convenience. Thank you for your time in considering my request ………John

Phone: Home: 93806679, Mobile: 0404615071. email: [email protected] Address: John Paul Healy, Department of Social Work, Level 15, Mathews Building, University of New South Wales, Sydney, NSW, Australia, 2052

273 Appendix 6 Religious Relationship Present Religious Age Discovered Age at Time of Participant Gender Education tradition at Status tradition Siddha Yoga Interview Birth Sally female single University Christian Buddhist 18 46 Technical Angie female single/parent Christian Shanti Mandir 29 61 college Mark male single University Christian Tantric Practice 26 57

Bruce male single/parent University Christian Muktananda 28 64

Elizabeth female single University Jewish Buddhist 29 61

Harry male married/partnered University Jewish Muktananda 24 58

Jessica female married/partnered University Christian None 17 45

Philip male married/partnered University Christian Muktananda 24 66

Ganesh male single University Christian Shanti Mandir 27 55

Krishna male married/partnered University Jewish Shanti Mandir 28 55

Tony male single/parent University Christian Shiva Yoga 24 53

Susan female married/partnered University Christian None 33 53 Technical Gordon male married/partnered Christian Yogananda 56 84 college Patricia female single/parent High school Christian None 20 45

Dan male married/partnered University Christian Muktananda / Zen 23 59

Michelle female married/partnered University none Muktananda 30 62 Technical Shannon female single/parent Christian None 23 41 college Ben male single/parent University Christian None 20 44

Harmony female single/parent University Christian None 28 52

Edith female widow/parent University Christian Christian 40 72

Cathleen female single/parent High school Christian Amma ji 29 58 Technical Arjuna male single Christian Shanti Mandir 10 40 college Garry male married/partnered University none Muktananda 29 62

Robert male married/partnered University Christian Ganga ji 24 60

Jennifer female single University Jewish Shanti Mandir 26 54

Lali female single University Christian Muktananda 21 52

Greg male single University Christian Asurya yoga 30 60

Nicole female married/partnered University Christian Shanti Mandir 35 51

Fredrick male married/partnered University Christian None 19 43 Technical Thomas male married/partnered none Muktananda 39 73 college Christine female married/partnered High school Christian Muktananda 24 58

David male married/partnered University Jewish Shanti Mandir 28 57

274 Appendix 7 Interview Guide

How did they find out about Siddha Yoga? Friends / family or professional recommendation Invited by acquaintance / work place/ social events Media sources: newspaper / magazine / television / Internet / advertisements Were they already interested in Yoga? Self-seeking: visiting organizations /reading /travel experience. What was happening in their lives prior to Siddha Yoga? Their careers, relationships What was their birth religion and were they actively involved with it. What was their initial experience of Siddha Yoga Like? Was there things that they liked, didn’t like about the group or the people involved. Did they meet the Guru and what was their experience of this meeting? Are there differing interpretations of the Guru amongst followers? An exploration of the individuals’ experience of or relationship with the Guru Was their experience with the Guru close or distant? Did they meet the Guru in an intimate setting or at a large event? What does/did the Guru mean to them? Their experience of the Death of Swami Muktananda Discuss the participant’s spiritual experience in the group In what ways did they get involved in Siddha Yoga Did they move into an Ashram, visit India? The degrees and individual nature of incorporating the group’s belief system, including: Did Siddha Yoga have any relation to previous beliefs? Did the group call for abandoning previously held beliefs? Do followers take on all beliefs held by group? Enquiry into what keeps the follower involved and the possible benefits of this involvement including: High or low participation in the group. Improvements or changes in areas of carer path; social status; family relations; partner relationship; new and old friendships; sense of wellbeing.

275 An exploration of the individuals experience of leaving the movement? What if any life events lead to moving a way including; personal relationship or breakdown of these; career moves; location moves; family or personal responsibilities? Loss of faith - disillusionment – disappointment Practices of the group that are still pursued after involving For example, meditation? Hindu or eastern philosophy? (Other). Are some of the groups’ beliefs still held? Sorting out the wheat from the chaff Are they involved in another similar or different group? Is there any contact with the group? Do they occasionally visit Ashrams or centres? Do friendships made in the group still persist? What do family, friends colleagues think of their prior involvement? Is involvement discussed with new friends and acquaintances? An exploration of participants’ knowledge of the early Siddha Yoga Muktananda’s visits to Australia? What was the early movement like? How has the movement evolved over time?

276 Appendix 8

277 Appendix 9

The line connecting attractions to getting more involved is to highlight that the attractions discussed in this study not only led to initial involvement but also with further involvement. 278