Friday, June 09, 2006

An additional note ...

The other side of what has just been said below is, of course, that the tutor must never see the student as ahankara.

This might seem obvious, but in fact there has always been a tradition of needling the student's weak points to force them to change. As His Holiness has never, to my knowledge, spoken in such a way to Mr MacLaren or Dr Roles, we must presume that this habit was already part of the School in 1960. I remember one long-standing Irish student of the School telling me how he had met a Prominent Member on the stairs at Waterperry. The aforementioned PM looked at the Irishman's toolbox and said unsmilingly, "Oh, I thought for a minute you had come to blow us all up." My Irish friend saw this as a deliberate attempt to force him to face up to his ahankara.

On another occasion I recall a branch leader reporting how he had driven past another car at an intersection without letting the car out, and that the thought had entered his head, "It doesn't matter, he's black". According to the branch leader, there was no way such a thought could have come from him, so it must have been the thought of the black driver, somehow transferring itself. The subtext here is that a prominent person in the School is naturally pure and conscious, while a student or, worse, someone of 'the world', lives in a fallen state. I would propose, following the example of Mr Jaiswal, that this is almost 180 degrees the wrong way.

Last week I sat and watched a tutor responding to several students in turn, each with a little barb of criticism. It was clear that the tutor believed it was his duty to do this. I didn't say anything, because confrontation has proved useless in the past, even though I was perfectly clear in my mind that this was disgraceful. The next day I spoke to one of the students in question and he told me without prompting that the tutor's remark had 'upset his normal equilibrium'. 24 hours later he had still not recovered. Cause and effect.

His Holiness did not criticise Mr MacLaren. Regardless of how many tutors have thought criticism of the student's ahankara was the way forward, it still does not make it right. Criticism is just the way of the world.

PS it may be thought that I spend quite a lot of time criticising people, but it's not so. The student is always right, in some sense. The tutor is not always right, because when he or she is being a tutor, the role is always contrasted with wisdom. We need to be clear about what represents good and bad practice for the tutor.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

In this respect it would be worth looking at the Ouspensky/Gurdjieff tradition in the School. It still underlies an attitude to 'work' in which 'upsetting a normal equilibrium' would be regarded as a measure of success and a step towards 'awakening'.

Kevin said...

I agree with what you say. And in a sense, if someone with some wisdom were to upset one's equilibrium that might turn out to be for the best, because they wouldn't do it blindly or automatically.

Anonymous said...

Hearing this kind of thing makes me want to leave the school. The SES does not have a monopoly on 'The Truth', and in some ways it's got it wrong. There are very wise people 'out there' who are inspiring people and bringing them home to their true selves. Have a look at Gangaji and John Sherman. They do not focus on ahankara. Quite the opposite. I was at a series of meetings recently with Gangaji and her husband Eli. Many SES people, past and present, were in the audience. I have to say it was more inspiring than any ses group night/study/day/weekend/week I have attended in a long while. Gangaji urges you to experience the truth of yourself directly, without any concept it. She radiates love and her interactions with people in her satsangs are tangibly infused with this love.

Kevin said...

Anonymous, plainly I agree with you; however, the extreme examples I've quoted are well over a decade old now. I raised them not to create unhappiness about the School as it is now, but to shed some light on the remnants of criticism (that is, ahankara-mindedness) that are still hanging around, so that we can do something about them.

Revolutions don't happen when things are getting worse, but better. Things are undoubtedly getting better at the moment. Now is the time for those who are aware of a better direction to hold firm. If you leave now, the School of the future may not come about. All those years of your life, given in vain?

As a lady recently remarked to me, "I don't mind that I went through sh*t in the Foundation Group" (I'm sorry, but those were her words), "so long as nobody else has to".

We can have satsanga in the School, just as with Gangaji. It is not a competition.

Anonymous said...

Please let us know the date of the next Gangaji meeting. Many thanks.

Anonymous said...

'All those years of your life, given in vain?' I would say this is a mistaken view or, if not, perhaps you can help further. It's an interesting question - what kind of journey are we on - if it is a journey? There is obvious merit in sticking to your last, but what is the School's responsibility here?

Anonymous said...

I think that all of us who have been long-term members have invested our time and effort not only in spiritual benefits for ourselves, but for others, and have worked to establish and maintain the School as a place of satsanga.

To my mind (you or the other Anonymous may disagree), if I left at this moment I would be in part at least invalidating that effort. Sometimes you have to validate something in retrospect by what you build on it.

More importantly, this is a time of crisis/opportunity. Those who see only the down side won't see the opportunity.

I don't really understand your question about the School's responsibility.

Anonymous said...

Julia, I don't know when Gangaji's next meeting is. I don't think she will be in the UK again until next year. Have a look at her website, or you could try asking Katharine Watson.

Anonymous said...

If you see the down side, you can also see the opportunity. Oddly, in my experience at any rate, the opportunity - which is what the Chinese call a crisis - is more readily seen without the veils of approbation. It's a fine balance not to give way to negativity and doubt, but the view can be very clear from that position.

I've been reflecting on what responsibility the School has to students,and I'd be glad to hear what others think about this. At the moment it's rather take-it-or-leave it. Is this the right approach?

Kevin said...

'Take it or leave it' is for me not about responsibility, so much as a lack of responsiveness. Unless they're the same thing.

The School isn't really set up to respond to its students. Supposedly the student can raise any issue and 'press the question' until it gets escalated, ultimately to HH. In practise, I've seen students ask the same question repeatedly over a period of years, until they give up. I think that is again an aspect of the whole 'tutor=buddhi; student=manas/ahankara' vibe.

When the dress code issue was raised in our group recently, someone said, "why did it take so long?" to which the tutor responded that it happened because some people finally asked the question persistently enough. Oh yeah? So now I understand, it's OUR fault for not asking the questions if there's no movement, not the leadership's fault for not doing anything

Anonymous said...

I follow your line but now we know what to do!

But asking questions in the School can be very discouraging. Often it seems that, unless a question is asked along a pre-determined line, it doesn't warrant a proper answer. It's almost as though the tutor, not knowing the 'correct' answer, is unwilling to stray outside the prescribed path. At more junior levels questions are more freely answered, it seems to me - largely because students have not yet been schooled in the 'correct' approach and so can bowl a googly which has to be met.

Following on from your earlier response, the School is very strong on focus. This has great strength on a 'straight and narrow path' but is not the Eastern way.

On further reflection, I may have been unfair. But there is something very galling about sitting in a room with head of level at the front, unable to ask the question you want.