Moving to town opened me to some important new spiritual experiences. Yeah, I know: No guru-hopping, but my temptation to explore was strong, and Swami-ji had always encouraged us to learn about other faiths.
It was about this time that I decided to make a small pilgrimage to New Vrindaban, the Hare Krishna center near Moundsville, West Virginia. For several years I had subscribed to ISKON Today, the Hare Krishna magazine, which frequently featured stories about New Vrindaban. So I put on my tulsi bead necklace and took off for the wilds of West Virginia for a weekend of immersion in “Krishna consciousness”.
What I saw on the surface was a vibrant community of American converts trying hard to live a spiritual life, a life similar to what I had experienced at Yogaville. The big difference was a very rigid and fundamentalist approach as the members strove to become the most orthodox of Hindus, including adopting as nearly as possible an Indian lifestyle.
Prabhupada's Palace of Gold is New Vrindaban's centerpiece attraction. Much of the ornate building was built with resin castings, allowing quick assembly. Guided tours are offered to visitors. (Photo by Lee Paxton via Wikipedia Commons.)
I first toured Srila Prabhupada’s Palace of Gold, an elaborate temple mushrooming out from a small cottage that their the guru “made holy” when he spent a few nights there shortly after the community was founded. Much of the elaborate detailing around the temple was cleverly made with Disney-esque resin castings from huge molds. The castings were then painted and gilded. The building would have taken decades to erect if all that decoration had been carved in stone. The materials are not traditional, but why not use modern methods? It's all for the Divine.
Then I visited the impressive state-of-the-art dairy farm where the devotees proudly showed off their herd of magnificent holsteins. The tour guide claimed their cows happily gave more milk because devotional Hare Krishna bhajans were played in the milking parlor. It has actually been demonstrated elsewhere that cows do give more when relaxing music is played during milking, though in that example the music was classical. New Vrindaban's cows certainly looked well cared for, though I'm not sure what a happy cow looks like. Do cows smile?
In the main temple there was lots of music and dancing (“The Hare Krishna Two-Step”), and lectures by their leader, Swami Kirtananda. He droned on and on about esoteric topics which were far above me. As my attention wandered, for the first time in my life I spotted a real tulsi tree growing in a pot in the corner. Tulsi, or orcimum sanctum, is a plant in the basil family which is considered sacred to Krishna by most Vishnavas.
All the meals were delicious, and I was kept stuffed with Indian food.
And of course, I visited the ever-popular Hare Krishna gift shop and dropped a few bucks.
The most memorable event of the whole trip was a torch-lit night procession to worship at two gargantuan statues of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu and his pal Nityananda. Chaitanya is the major saint in the Gaudiya Vishnava tradition, and the Hare Krishnas trace their guru lineage from him, as well as believing Chaitanya to be an incarnation of Krishna. These two effigies stood side by side, but their identities were unmarked by any signage. I knew who the statues represented, but was confused as to which was Chaitanya and which was Nityananda, so I asked a devotee if he knew the difference. His very practical reply was, “It doesn’t matter. Just think of them as Left and Right Deity.” Well, why not? That works for me.
The massive statues of Chaitanya and Nityananda, or "Left and Right Deity" at New Vrindaban. (Photo by Lee Paxton, via Wikipedia Commons.)
The next day was marred by a near-argument I had with one of the senior devotees. At Yogaville I was used to seeing and interacting with female swamis, and many of them held senior positions of responsibility. I realized that I had never seen a female Hare Krishna renunciate, here or at any of their other centers. So out of curiosity I asked a devotee if there were any female swamis in ISKON. His rather sneering and blatantly sexist response was, "Renunciation is only for men — women cannot truly know Krishna, but if they properly do their duties to their husbands women may be reborn as men in some future life." That answer stank as much as what those happy cows produced along with milk: crap.
So I asked, “What about Mirabai?”
“Who is that?” the devotee countered rather sharply.
I tried to explain that she was a Rajput princess, a contemporary of Chaitanya, and a Vishnava poetess who renounced everything for Krishna. He immediately shut me down with "Don't know anything about that," and stalked off. Curiously, I later learned that some bhajans in the songbook I bought in their gift shop were written by Mirabai. That was then, and later I read in ISKON Today, that their organization indeed had begun allowing women to become swamis.
I was further shocked by a horrid maxim I heard during my visit: There are three things a devotee should beat often and hard — his drum, his dog and his wife.
At the end of the weekend I made the six-hour trip home, much more enlightened about ISKON and touched by the devotion I had seen. On the other hand, their fundamentalism and sexism convinced me that ISKON was not a path I would ever go down.
In fairness to ISKON members, just because my experience at New Vrindaban was soured by extremism does not mean I think that all Hare Krishnas are this way, or even all the people at New Vrindaban. I have met some very mature, courteous ISKON members who have been outstanding representatives of their faith. Like all religions, they have both saints and sinners.
I found another outlet for my devotional energy through a local Siddha Yoga kirtan group which met weekly at a devotee family's home just outside of town. Siddha Yoga is an organization founded by the Hindu spiritual master Swami Muktananda who had “left his body” in 1982. In some ways the organization was similar to Yogaville, with a guru residing at their major ashram, and local centers and house groups scattered around the world.
The kirtan group was run by our hostess, with another long-term Siddha Yoga initiate frequently drumming and leading the chants. There were usually no other Siddha Yoga members, and most participants were followers of other gurus.
We always sang the Siddha Yoga version of "Jyota se Jyota", with a verse specifically mentioning Baba Muktananda. (I had a tape from the Sri Ram Ashram changing that verse to a more generic praise, which is the version I still sing and play on the harmonium.) After chanting Jyota so often, it was burned into my brain, and it remains one of my favorite bhajans. Jyota was followed by a traditional chant that changed with each meeting.
I was a regular at the Siddha Yoga kirtan for about three years, though I never visited the group's ashram in Fallsburg, New York, to have the darshan of their current leader, Gurumayi Chidvilasananda. The local group was eventually disbanded on orders from Fallsburg for reasons which remain a mystery to me.
I had long wanted to broaden my understanding of Jesus and his message. My interest was less on Paul's interpretation of Jesus' rather messy state-sponsored demise buying us salvation, and m0re about Jesus' own teachings. I have never been comfortable with the quid pro quo position of most Christian churches that professing belief in Jesus’ resurrection is all you need for salvation. This trivializes his great ethical messages and his teachings on the love for God. I particularly like the Gospel of Mark which I believe to be the most accurate of the four Gospels (and the least influenced by Paul). Mark was Peter’s secretary and the text relates what Peter claimed to have witnessed.
So I went in quest of a church with a super-liberal interpretation. I had planned to visit the Unitarians and the Quakers, but started with Unity and never went any farther. They were so welcoming I was "charmed in". Not many churches have a "hug ministry", with volunteers ready to embrace everyone who comes in the front door.
The Unity School of Practical Christianity, to use the denomination's formal name, is one of several similar churches in the “New Thought Christianity” movement. Unity was founded by Charles and Myrtle Fillmore in 1891. The Fillmores had been trained as Christian Science practitioners by Mary Baker Eddy, but chose to take their ministry in a different direction, emphasizing what might be described as “practical mysticism”. Unity’s focus is on the application of Jesus’ teachings to enrich our everyday lives. Unity also teaches that the universe is God-permeated and that part of the divine spirit lives in all of us, very similar to the Atman or universal soul of Vedanta. The Fillmores called this spirit “The Christ in You”. Unity’s teachings are all totally positive, just what this sometime-cynic needed.
The focus of this particular Unity congregation was more on New Age spirituality, including many elements from outside Unity's official teachings. Consequently, the Fillmores’ wonderful spiritual message was rarely mentioned. I once asked the minister about this. He responded that some Unity congregations were much more focused on the Fillmores’ mysticism and Jesus’ practical spirituality. However, ministers usually follow their congregants’ interests (after all, a pulpit committee hires the minister best suited the wants of the congregation). Our particular congregation was heavily invested in the New Age, so that was our focus. I'm not against New Age spiritualism, and this congregation did at lot of positive stuff.
I have to admit to abetting the drift away from Unity's founders in a small way. At the minister’s invitation, I taught group study classes on basic Buddhism and also a series on the Upanishads, an important group of Hindu scriptures.
Back at Yogaville, my participation ended in a rather abrupt and painful way.
After a rocky start with one of the swamis, we became friends when she learned we shared a devotion to Krishna, the harmonium and a love of kirtan. The swami was an accomplished musician, both as a singer and as a harmonium player. The love and joy she brought to her music was written all over her face when she led kirtan. Unfortunately, my friend sang in a high register with a nasal intonation as native Hindu women often do (she was actually a New York ex-patriot). This was not popular with some in the congregation, and I overheard several people grousing about her style.
My swami friend was abruptly sacked as kirtan leader, and replaced by another swami. I was not party to the reasons for the change, and there were likely other issues going on as well. I do know my friend was quite hurt by the way she was replaced as kirtan leader. She resigned from the monastic order, and left both the ashram and Swami-ji’s organization completely.
The new kirtanist seemed determined to “improve” our music program. Not only did she personally lead kirtan, changing the music to a more western style, she also extended her mandate to the whole congregation which she treated as a choir. I was squarely in her sights, and the swami made it clear by various actions that she didn’t want me singing and banging on kirtals (hand cymbols), or at least wanted me as far across the room as possible. This really hurt. Kirtan was my main sadhana, and what I truly loved to do at Yogaville. She could have taken me aside for a private chat or maybe even offered me musical instruction if my attempts at singing were disturbing to her, but that didn’t happen.
Finally, one night she stopped the music. Looking directly at me, she screamed in front of the whole congregation, “Now everybody get on key!” Fighting back tears and thoroughly humiliated, I turned and walked out of Shivananda Hall, I thought never to return.
Shortly after my embarrassment, I gave away all my books, pictures of Swami-ji, and other stuff related to the ashram. I stopped using the name Ganapati, and rebranded myself Haridas (servant of Hari, or Krishna). Except for dropping in once to visit a dying friend, it would be over ten years before I again had anything to do with Yogaville, Integral Yoga or Swami Satchidananda. My reconciliation with Yogaville will have to wait for another chapter.
