“Dangerous” Disgruntled(s)

Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

On occasion, someone will contact me through this blog. Usually, it’s an “unschooled” spouse, desperately searching for information about the mysterious group that is destroying their relationship. Most are baffled by the odd behavior, growing secrecy and coldness “evolving” from their partner. “School” very deliberately shuts them out – this is typical cultic us vs. them fare. They contact me because other resources are few and far between. I am more than happy to help when I can; sometimes I can’t.

In one such case, a woman asked her fiancé to read this blog; he did, but his response was to tell her that we online-critic “disgruntled(s)” are “dangerous”. Who knew that one day I would be “dangerous”? To be honest, this still makes me laugh. But sadly he threw away his potential marriage due to some cult-contrived fear. In another, more successful, emancipation, the escapee-to-be told me, “You’re contraband, you know.” Then we had a good laugh.

I was telling this story, to fellow “disgruntleds”, one of whom told me: dangerous is deliberately used to instill fear and pre-empt any inquiry. That’s because all humans are programmed to simply avoid danger.  And the cult preys on people who don’t really challenge anything unconventional or dangerous. I have to admit I am proud to be considered “dangerous contraband” by a nefarious cult. After all, “School” loved quoting Martin Luther King: Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

Be careful what you preach, “School”. After I left, I started unraveling your endless tangle of lies; I could no longer be silent. I started reading about high-demand groups and started to recognize that you are just one more, damaging, predatory cult. So I exercise my freedom of speech and speak out against such practices. I tell my story. If that makes me “dangerous contraband”, so be it.

Others see the online critique differently; the “un-schooled” spouses who asked me to help them all told me that the blog lifted the veil on this shady world, helping them to understand the cult perpetrated pressures influencing the men/women they loved. They could finally put the odd and hurtful behavior into context and understand the ripple effect. Additionally, a “disgruntled” recently told me this:

“When I was in the cult, the prevailing belief was that the bloggers behind ‘Esoteric Freedom’ and ‘Gentle Soul’ were evil, malicious, angry, and resentful.  Just bad people doing bad things. But when I escaped, I found these blogs to be healing, helpful, and compassionate.  In fact, the blogs helped confirm what I always felt about the cult.” 

As a firm believer in freedom of choice, I invite anyone reading this right now to decide yourself. Read the online info – break the rules and make your own assessment. You could simply take “School’s” word on blind faith; but then they have made the decision for you. I once had blind faith in that institution and that faith ended up hurting me. When I found faith in my own perceptions and ability to reason, I realized that I much prefer to be “dangerous”.

More resources …

Hi Everyone,

I’ve been neglecting cult confessions lately for a related project, but of course, I can’t get away for long. When it comes to cults there are endless topics to explore and I will be back to posting soon.

In the meantime, I wanted to point out a couple of things:

1) A lot of people were upset when the Esoteric Freedom blog disappeared. You will find some of the material from that blog, and more, on the following site: The Truth About Sharon Gans

2) If you’re a “student” who is presently “breaking the rules” because you’re wondering, questioning, whether this group you’ve joined is truly an “esoteric mystery school”, or a cult, you might recognize the people in a photo posted here: http://www.sharonganscult.com/

Thanks for reading and I’ll be back to posting soon!

Happy Thanksgiving – Gratitude List

You always had the power, my dear. You just had to learn it for yourself.

This is my fourth “school”-free holiday season and I find I have much for which to be grateful. Many of these things came directly from my evolutionary tenure. Every “school”-free day contrasts sharply with my “school”-dictated life, highlighting what leaving the hallowed halls brought to me:

1) A well-honed bullshit detector – while, I have never regretted leaving the institution, I also don’t regret the experience. I do wish that I’d listened to my rebels sooner — five years and roughly $20,000 is way more than I wanted to invest in this con game. However, allowing “school” to yank me around for a time did prove valuable. It reminded me of that childhood lesson from the The Wizard of Oz: everything I need, everything you need, exists within me, and within you, already. The wizards who tell you otherwise, offering pat and overly simplified advice, alleged informed by convenient interpretations of certain esoteric ideas is, at best, deluded and at worst, sociopathic.

2) A trusted connection to my inner moral compass and path — Every “school”-free day bears gifts in ways to embrace this connection. Every moment, good, bad, challenging, boring, heartening, frustrating, inspiring — whatever comes — offers me the opportunity to honor what feels right to me and leave behind what doesn’t. I’m free from the cognitive dissonance that wrestled with my inner sense when it didn’t line up with the outer party line. I own my time and life, for better or worse: I spend my days with those I love and doing what I want. I am free to share whatever I experience, feel and think with whomever I’d like. This freedom constantly reminds me that every breath is a gift. It is my responsibility to use my remaining breathes wisely, instead of giving them away. And, by the way, I have a lot more energy.

3) An unencumbered holiday season — The holidays are no longer strained with the unnecessary “school”-sponsored usurpation, otherwise known as The Christmas Party. All accompanying marital stress fell away. My friends and family no longer wonder why I am so unavailable and what could possibly be keeping me busily scrambling around. In fact, now that they all know about the illustrious group and its infamous Christmas party, we’ve had a lot of laughs, and lemme just tell you, keeping secrets takes a lot of energy.

4) A reconnection to my inner creative voice — at some point I will research and write more extensively about the cult-usurpation-of-your-creative-energy phenomenon. For now I will simply say that in 2006, when I joined an “informal discussion group”, I hoped that the it would strengthen and affirm my creative dreams. Five years later, I felt severed from those dreams — songwriting, prose writing, even simple morning pages, ala The Artist’s Way, all felt impossible. The flow of ideas and music that had been with me since childhood shut down. Before my tenure — however insecure and lost I felt — those ideas outlined my dreams and woke me up in the morning. They provided a sense of purpose, and I honored them, despite uncertainty about how to shape and define that purpose. Once I left the cult and started writing my story, I reconnected to that creative voice. Recently songs again began outlining my dreams and waking me in the morning. Welcome back!

5) A clarity of purpose – In leaving the cult, I freed my time. In freeing my time, I freed my mind. In freeing my mind, my voice came forth to tell this ridiculous tale. In putting out this blog, I released my psyche from “school’s” cancerous secrecy. This is my experience of freedom of mind. Secrets cloud and shroud. Clarity arrived when I stopped carrying them around. I believe the purpose of artistic creativity — in whatever modality — is connecting to this authentic voice and empowerment through the expression of your truth. I believe this because I found all the healing I needed within the creative process.

6) My marriage — When I left the cult, I suddenly found myself home more, sharing time with my husband. I suddenly found more energy, physical, emotional, cognitive and psychological to give to him. When I stopped protecting the “highly-evolved esoteric institution”, I suddenly had more to share with him. I left “school” because I knew my marriage would end if I didn’t. But I didn’t realize the damage inflicted until I confessed the inner workings and heard him him talk about his experience of “school’s” highly evolved “help”, as it increasingly dismissed him and our marriage as “only a life thing”. I’m thankful that instead of tearing us apart, we’ve used “school’s” education to strengthen our commitment.

7) Real friendships with real people – One of “school’s” most insidious aspects is the isolation. If you “follow school rules” to the letter, you find yourself in an invisible prison; it eats up more and more of your “only life”. If you leave, you are stonewalled. Additionally you are to pretend like it didn’t happen — “don’t leak”. If you run into a fellow disgruntled at Trader Joe’s both of you are to ignore each other. How crazy making. If you break “school” rules, you find that relationships, friendships, have their own organic rhythm. There is nothing evolved about a group that micromanages and engineers “essence friendships”. I have learned so much about the strength and character of my fellow disgruntled(s) by breaking the “non-fraternization rule.” They no longer embody the flat one-dimensional “school” perpetuated cult identity of the group.

On that note, I will end by offering the hope that your “school”-free existence has benefited you, as mine has benefited me. Because when you find your feet walking a path, directed by your internal compass, to your true north, as Dorothy says, there’s no place like home.

Happy Thanksgiving and here’s to a “school”-free holiday season! Cheers!

Past “School” Morphing

When I was a starry-eyed believer, I silently accepted “school” rules and traditions as wisdom passed down from “secret esoteric schools” through the ages. Recently “disgruntled ex-students” from “school” past, debunked some of these “ancient esoteric teachings”, revealing them as past “school” morph-ing.

The next few posts depict and link these past revelations with the new millennium “school”.  Let’s begin with “school’s traditional Christmas Party” — brought to us by the eighties, the era of Madonna’s proud declaration, “I am a Material Girl”:

Morph 1: The Christmas Party

One December, during “school’s” annual usurpation of my holiday season, I sought “help” from King Robert for the  perennial marital tensions. A “school education”ensures that its students have zero time for personal holidays; “only life things” — i.e. family, friends, work, colleagues — must be secondary to the big party if one wants to “evolve”.

Among other things, Robert told me, ” … it’s during the holiday season that you benefit the most from ‘school’.”  His brow wrinkled, he wondered how could my husband have any complaints? Didn’t he sense my evolution? Didn’t he get how he benefits from my “work”?

… never mind that I was rarely home; when I was home, I was exhausted and distracted; that the top secret calling devoured my time and energy while intentionally excluding him, as well as bleeding into our time at home with top-secret-holiday-party-tasks (I recall unsuccessfully trying to secretly cut out invisible snowflakes in our living room, only to leave a trail of tiny white paper snippets in my path, which he — of course — called me out on); never mind that our family holiday had to wait until the shindig was over (of course, a more evolved woman would have bought presents and decorated the house after Christmas party prep, between the hours of 3-6 a.m, after which I would go to work).

I was puzzled, too… was I missing something? I mean … this wasn’t rocket science: my husband was lonely. I was neglecting him for the “higher calling”. How do I explain the top secret nature of my critical snowflake-making without leaking??? How do I tell him, “I really don’t want to neglect you during the holiday season; but these demands from the invisible world are critical to my evolution and only benefit you, too!” Even in my “school” coma, I realized that any sane person, left in the dark to wonder why those snowflakes were more important then him/her, would have been saying to his/her spouse, “WTF?”

Nonetheless, my evolved leader appeared stumped by my husband’s complaints, as though no other “un-schooled” spouse had complained before. Of course, I didn’t know then that all three of Robert’s marriages were “school” arranged. As was typical, I started thinking, “There must be something I don’t understand — something only Robert can understand. Maybe, if I tried harder, if my vibrations were finer, I could enlighten my husband into a state of bliss and turn his emotion dial to the happily accepting setting. He would then, of course, say, ‘I understand that your annual disappearing act is an ancient esoteric tradition necessary for your evolution and our betterment! Thank you for doing THE WORK! and benefiting me invisibly.’ ”

Recently “ex-students”, circa 1985, revealed the Christmas Party tradition as an outgrowth of the eighties. One of them told me,“We saw the inaugural Christmas extravaganza that has since caused so much horror to the participants.”

I would love to learn more about its inception, so please consider this post an invitation to share! Since “The Christmas Party” is not an ancient tradition, seeded in esoteric schools of yore, how it did come about?

Morph 2: The Non Fraternization Policy
Morph 3: Drug Use
Morph 4: Recruitment, or “Making New Friends”
 

 

Past Morph 2: Non-Fraternization

“Sealing The Invisible World”

When I enrolled in “school” in August, 2006, the leadership made clear that my classmates and I should not acknowledge each other should we have chance encounters outside the hallowed halls. These were not “school” sanctioned and they told us … “It’s very important to seal yourself off; don’t leak the invisible world!

I envisioned centuries of “students” silently floating out of mystery schools across the globe, spreading “fine vibrations”; infusing healing energy into “sleepwalking humanity”; awakening the world for all salvation. I imagined “students” encountering each other outside the “schoolyard”, exchanging surreptitious smiles and floating off to save lost souls.

I was lucky! I’d stumbled into an exclusive lineage, an elite few, who could “save civilization” through practicing “THE WORK” – i.e. allowing “evolved teachers” to micromanage personal decisions, control “un-schooled” relationships and usurp time and energy in service to the higher “aim” of mo’ recruits, mo’ money, while installing a monthly I.V. drip from my bank account into Sharon’s retirement fund.

Recently another “disgruntled ex-student” squashed this  “school” myth, telling me, ” I witnessed the creation of the ‘no fraternization’ rule (I remember why and where that happened)”. I have since learned that, back in the wild seventies and superficial eighties, “teachers” encouraged “students” to socialize, work together, live together, sleep together etc, etc, etc. But one rotten apple spoiled the barrel — ruining the fun for every one! A relationship went sour and the woman had two brothers in the New York City police department – I guess that didn’t bode well for corporate headquarters.

While in my “school” stupor, I took that “rule” to heart. Once day I encountered a fellow “student” at the Harvard Book Store; a “younger student” who said hello to me; horrors! I thought, “She must not understand ‘the rules!’ ” Concerned for her soul, and mine (of course), I quickly informed her that we weren’t supposed to be talking. Needless to say, the next recounting of “non-fraternization” as a “school” style ancient ritual is among my favorites. An ex-student of the nineties told me this:

“No talking – well, that one was blown apart for me when I was sent on babysitting duty for a student who was going through a crisis. She was very wealthy and an older teacher and I were to go with her to her country house and be with her so she wouldn’t drink. Sharon said she thought the student was pregnant, and the woman was supposed to go to Betty Ford. None of this happened and she wasn’t pregnant and she drank the entire time. And she called and visited with non-school friends all weekend, leaving me with the teacher who did nothing but gossip about everyone in school all weekend. She was deaf to my hints that we shouldn’t be discussing this, saying ‘Oh who cares!'”

So much for “not leaking”.

Morph 2: The Non Fraternization Policy
Morph 3: Drug Use
Morph 4: Recruitment, or “Making New Friends”

Morph 3: The “No Drug Use” Rule

One evening in “class”, a fellow “student” casually mentioned smoking pot. A “teacher” sternly told him, “You do know that smoking pot is against ‘THE RULES’.” Given her admonishment, I assumed that “school” considered drug use an avoidance of doing “the first line work, or work on the self”.

Needless to say, when a corroborator shared this next bit, I thought, I must share this on the blog (it’s also great source material for the musical that I’m going to write one day, “School” — My Five Years in a Cult):

“ … in 2000 Sharon asked, first her son, and then someone else (after he left) to procure hash for the teachers to smoke at the Christmas party. Some kind of cannabis product was present at teachers’ meetings thereafter.”

Recently, some fellow new-millennium disgruntled(s) confirmed that Boston-branch “teachers” keep the  tradition of “teaching” while toasted alive. Before “classes” our “teachers” hid in the “teacher’s lounge”. A few privileged and trusted servants delivered the aristocracy food and beverage Downton Abbey style. Once upon a time, I had imagined the royalty planning the evening’s secret esoteric teaching in that room, perhaps meditating and praying together. Instead, I guess, they were gossiping and consuming libations; perhaps some were rolling joints and blowing enlightened smoke rings before making a grand appearance in the “classroom”.

“Class” always unfolded via the same bi-weekly ritual: we waited in the “classroom” silently, reverently, for a “teacher”; eventually, either “teacher” Michael would appear and announce, “Time for TAI CHI.”, OR “teacher” Paul would appear and announce “Time for BODY WORK.” We few, we proletariat, would dutifully file into another room to either, follow Michael through the tai chi form, or “move every part of our body in circles” on Paul’s instruction. Once we plebs were sufficiently “relaxed” the “teacher” would send us silently padding into the “classroom”. There we would await (in silence, of course) the grand entrance of whomever was heading the evening’s lesson — don’t leak, no unnecessary talking, no fraternizing!

After several minutes of silence, a more highly evolved being would stroll in and take his/her seat at the front of the room. Usually, that “teacher” would announce, “Let’s read self observations.” We would kill a good first hour, or so, reading out of our “self-observation notebooks”, essentially confessing our sinful, broken, dysfunctional, coarse and heavy thoughts and/or “negative emotions.”

Academic cult researchers reveal this routine as typical cult techniques. The “body work” and/or tai chi are hypnotic devices that make the “student body” more susceptible; the reading of “self observations” convenient confessions so leadership could hone in and utilize our weaknesses towards the higher purpose of world domination… “Oh, my Grandma, what big teeth you have!” … ” The better to eat you with, my dear!” Humiliation, and fear of humiliation, proved a very effective social engineering tool within the hallowed halls. I guess you would have to be inebriated to justify this manipulation as necessary for “evolution” year after year.

In thinking about drug use in “school”, I remembered a scene from early in my tenure.  As a newbie, or “younger student” (“school” was still courting me at this phase) a fellow “classmate” escorted me to a “class outside of class” — another brand of “all-night-school-party”. The drug-free magic of the evening had me giddy with wonder, a true believer, but my euphoria was briefly interrupted. An “older student” and “teacher” stopped to chat with me; as they zealously expounded on the benefits of “school” and how happy they were for me , an unmistakeable pot smell permeated and circled us. When they walked away, the cloud did too. I felt confused and disappointed; but — as was typical — then I thought, “They must know something that I don’t know about smoking pot.”

It’s amazing to now see how quickly I dismissed my doubts and blinded myself to these inconsistencies; I really wanted to believe in “school”!

Morph 2: The Non Fraternization Policy
Morph 3: Drug Use
Morph 4: Recruitment, or “Making New Friends”

The No More Secrets Policy: Truth as Medicine


When I first left “school”, I believed that each “student” had made a personal choice about “joining” and “staying”. I left because I finally saw how my participation was damaging my marriage, but I was still unable to consider that the group, itself, was destructive. Even as I realized that Robert’s claim of “school” as “the source” was delusional, at best, I vowed to keep the silence out of respect for my colleagues; but when I started uncovering “school’s” seedy past and deceptive recruitment and retainment practices, I formulated my new life policy: No More Secrets.

I “broke the rule” of “no internet research”, mostly because my silence and the accompanying isolation were starting to make me insane. The strange, confusing and intense experience I had recently left was playing out in my mind like a movie. I saw myself giving my power away, surrendering my voice and my perceptions over to those who were “more highly evolved”. I saw myself allowing the institution to micromanage personal decisions to my detriment, usurping five precious years of my “only life”, hurting my marriage and other essential relationships through the practice of “clever insincerity”, steering me away from my passions, squashing my true nature and voice– ironically my essence —  and painting me into the prescribed cult identity of helpless, entitled and unemployable Jewish American Princess.

Even though I was no longer in “school”, its “don’t leak the experience” rule had locked me into a strange and invisible cage, still isolating me from the “un-schooled” — i.e. everyone else.  Contact with the “schooled” was also “against the rules”, unless it was via a “school”-sanctioned teacher conversation. Essentially, I had no outlet or resource to process and heal from this bizarre experience. I was strangely and invisibly alienated from everyone, locked into this secret.

My first month out of the cult, and several hundred miles of travel made me realize that I needed to speak out to save my mental health and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. The blog — i.e. breaking the rule of silence — freed me from the damaging psychological, cognitive and emotional prison. The end result is that I have emancipated myself in every way — I have never felt stronger, clearer and more self assured. Every day reminds me that I am free and I live in a state of gratitude, because I can refer back to my “school” days and contrast them to today. The stark difference between life “in school” and life without “the source” begs the question: source of what?

My No More Secrets policy is the key to my emancipation. I posted my story in cyberspace for this reason. With nothing to hide, I am free to tell it to whomever, whenever I feel it best and right. Secrets lock you into an invisible prison. “School” counts on secrecy on all levels. Secrets fuel the operation and keep it going. I have found healing in telling my story, letting go of that burden, and so can you.

You don’t have to take your story to your grave. You don’t have to blast it out to cyberspace either. But tell it to someone; even one trusted person will give you some relief. No more secrets. Secrets are cancerous. They will eat you up inside. Let them go.  Know that when you give voice to your experience, you reclaim your truth and your true identity. Know that the more people who are telling their stories, pulling the curtain on the Wizard, the more exposed this cult will be and less able to perpetrate its twisted version of “evolution”, also known as life long and dependent “students” who will pay $350 every month.

I imagine most of my readership lives in America, although, I have noted visits from various countries in Europe, Africa, the Middle East and even Asia, which is very cool. Regardless of your location, those of us who lived the “school” experience can practice our Freedom of Speech. In the land of the free and home of the brave we have civil rights and we can speak out against that which has proven odious and harmful.

 

 

“The Rules” and “School” Paranoia

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to talk about my cult experience at a private event. Rather glibly, I said, sure, adding that we could make it hilarious. I invited some friends, family,  fellow ex-“students” and un-“schooled” spouses. The anxiety it kicked up in my ex-“classmates” knocked that glib-ness down a peg or ten. For the damage “school” inflicts with its cult-induced paranoia is not funny.

As a woman who disclosed her cult tenure in a blog, not caring who read it, or who could identify me — in fact honoring my personal post-cult policy of No More Secrets —  I forget that my fellow “disgruntled(s)” might be uncomfortable seated anonymously in the audience. I felt a sudden guilt for extending this anxiety-inducing invitation to my dear friends–for I love these people and I have leaned heavily on them since leaving the ranks. For the first time, I felt trepidation about coming out as the cult-survivor poster child; it dawned on me that I would be sharing my cult confessions with — well — people. I called a friend to ask, “Am I crazy?”

It is one thing to confess to, and interact with, a computer screen; it is another thing to announce to an audience largely unaware of this little cottage-industry cult, “I got suckered into spending roughly $20,000, over five years, putting countless hours, and a lot of energy into a con job, to chase the ever-elusive and undefinable goal of evolution.”  The words shame and embarrassment jump to mind. The question, “how could I be so gullible and dense?” rears up. The hurt I inflicted on those near and dear during my tenure confronts me.

Shame and embarrassment are familiar feelings to the “schooled”, as well as the following cult-induced paranoia(s):

1) Leaving the institution means “cutting yourself off from the source.”

2) Breaking the silence “seal” and the “non-fraternization” rule creates “leaks” that will drain me of the goodness gleaned from my “work.”

3) If the “sleepwalking” masses learn of my “school” days, I may lose my job, or friends, or house, or marriage, etc, etc, etc.

4) Confessing my cult days will prove, at best, embarrassing, and, at worst, devastating.

Seeing my anxiety rise, my friend said that we could cancel the interview. But since I left the ranks, the more I practice No More Secrets, the more healing and freedom I experience. I guess the time has come to take that policy to another level; to own my cult days in real time, in front of real people, who will be invited to ask real questions–shame and embarrassment be damned.

That being the case, I would like to share how No More Secrets has debunked all of the above-listed paranoia(s):

Paranoia 1 — You will cut yourself off from the source: Robert refers to “school” as “the source” in key moments; when defections threaten his institution the phrase “… cut off from the source” echoes through the hallowed halls. The morning I defected, I distinctly remember the sunrise. It woke me up (literally) to the arrogance of labeling “school” “the source” and the falseness in the threat of “being cut off”. Source was apparent in pink-lined clouds that morning and is available in each and every sunrise and sunset. Source lives in the time I spend with my fiddle, or guitar, or when I am writing a new song, or new post for this blog. Source was in a beautiful concert I attended at Jordan Hall recently and the three-hour conversation that followed (a conversation that could have lasted all night if the restaurant had stayed open). Source is in any honest conversation, good laugh, or good cry, that I share with my husband. Source is in the songs we write and sing together. Source is in the crocuses that are poking through the barely unfrozen dirt.

When you debunk this idea of “school” as “source”, you see that the claim itself cuts “students” off from the real source. The longer my tenure, the more “school” consumed of me. Source does not need to devour my time, stealing me from my spouse, family, job, friends, passions etc. Source does not need to charge me $350/month. It simply needs me to awaken to it, so I can connect to the abundance therein. While a “student”, I was too consumed with “school”-induced self loathing and resentment spawned by allowing “teachers” to dictate personal decisions; decisions that sent me bumbling into the Life-I-Never-Wanted. Source needs me to honor and cherish my energy and life; and for every person to do the same. For source lives inside and all around each and every one of us. These days, I connect source when I feel gratitude for what I have, when I recognize that beauty surrounds me and thank God for my paltry and insignificant “only life things”. Source is always available, if we are awake to it.

Paranoia 2– Breaking the seal of silence leaks “The Work” out of you: This is complete bullshit.“School” does not have the power to steal what you have in your heart and mind. If “school” sincerely wanted its students to evolve, it would encourage independent thought and authentic expression of, and reflection on, feelings and personal experiences. For me, “school’s” version of “The Work” began with honest efforts to become a financially independent adult and devolved over time; the longer my tenure, the more consumed I was with a constant-navel gazing assessment of every-fault-I-have-and-can’t-overcome-without-“school’s-help“; the end result of my “education” was more dependence, fear, and childish self-absorption. Surprise, surprise, this fear and dependence infected my ability — or inability as the case may be — to find and hold down a job. Once while discussing my not-so-illustrious employment prospects with a teacher named Carol, she offered this heart-warming missive: “Maybe you will never be able to hold down a job.” Her tone dismissed my anxiety as trivial on “school’s” evolutionary scale (with its lofty pursuit of income generation for Sharon at the top and your only life things at the bottom). You can imagine what her “help” did to my already paper-thin sense of self worth.

When I broke the silence with other “disgruntled(s)” our conversations revealed that “school” lies constantly. I saw how “school” twists the ideas presented therein to suit its evolved unspoken “aim” of income generation and slave-labor retention. It serves “school’ to feed the insecurities of its attendees; the more we need the institution, the more we feed it. That revelation set me free to see such “help” for what it really was — a proliferation of my “school” role as entitled and unemployable Jewish American princess who-will-always-need- “the help”. My cult confessions to the un-“schooled” obliterated my “school”-induced denial: I learned that which I had believed “invisible” was — in reality — very visible to them: they had felt my clever insincerity, i.e. lies, and experienced my increasing withdrawal from them as “only life things” —  insignificant on “school’s” grand scale of evolution.

These conversations unsealed and affirmed the questions, suspicions and discomfort that all “students” have, but are afraid to explore — Where does the money go? Why does such an evolved institution need to lie about so much? Where do the “ideas” come from and why is the source top secret? Why do other “students” suddenly disappear, never to be mentioned again? At what point do I trust my own perceptions again? “School” dismisses “students” who are brave enough to broach such inquiries within its hallowed halls, labeling these questions “lack of valuation” and/or “suspicious I’s”, warning “students” against the use of such critical thinking. Stay in that environment long enough, and you begin to dismiss your perceptions yourself.

Breaking the seal of silence began a healing and empowering process, as I realized that my concerns, questions and discomforts were not simply undue suspicions or inner saboteurs trying to impede my “evolution”. The connections and conversations freed me from a childish need to please my “teachers” as well as the “school” dictates, assignments and demands; free from the cult-mandated “clever insincerity” that spread like cancer into all areas of my paltry life; free from time-and-energy-devouring cult tasks; free from the $350/monthly tuition that drained my bank account and damaged my marriage.

Most importantly, though, I had to start trusting myself. When I departed the ranks, I thought,”This might be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but at least, if I’m going to fuck up my life, I’ll be doing so on my own terms.” The “school”-free life that  followed — with all of its bumps and foibles — is sweet. Ironically, the benefits I did glean from “school” in my early years have only been reinforced by my departure; any real growth I experienced — and there is some real growth to be had — stayed with me. That which no longer served me, or that which ultimately hurt me, fell away. ” By the way, a month after my departure work found me and it keeps showing up.

Paranoia 3 — If the “sleepwalking” masses find out about my cult days, I could lose my job, friends, partners, kids, etc, etc, etc: please believe me, those who haven’t been affected by “school”–i.e. most people– DON’T CARE ABOUT “SCHOOL”. Very few people are concerned that a group seeking enlightenment gathers twice a week to “move all parts of your body in circles,” or practice a watered down version of tai chi and discuss certain not-so-“secret” esoteric ideas. This paranoia feeds “school”-induced delusions of grandeur. It is highly unlikely that the un-“schooled” have the time, or the inclination, to dig around seeking cult information. People are busy and absorbed in their own lives. Others only begin to care when the cult impacts them personally, or if they work in a cult-countering profession. Potential “school” recruits have contacted me on occasion, when the weird behavior of a “new friend” aroused suspicions.  If “school’s” required “clever insincerity” begins to destroy a relationship, than the “other” — spouse, sibling, friend, employer, employee — will seek information; for the institution has deluded itself into expecting the “others” to suck it up while their spouse, friend, brother, sister, parent, employee, business partner, or child silently “evolves” school style. I must admit that while indoctrinated I  believed my relationships magically immune to any damage inflicted by the lies I told and the neglect I inflicted on those near and dear — and that is the biggest lie of all.

At this point, I’ve spoken with many and various un-“schooled” spouses; while the personal details are different, being on the receiving end of “school-style” “external considering” (i.e. putting yourself in the “other” persons shoes) is the same  — what begins as a seemingly benign bi-weekly pursuit increases exponentially over time, consuming the “schooled” partner while his/her lies increase in correspondence — the longer your tenure, the more you lie. The un-“schooled” confronts the “schooled”; the “schooled” ask for “help” and then “school” starts to work its divorce-commencing magic. The “schooled” start dismissing the perceptions, experiences and feelings of the “un-schooled” spouse. At the same time s/he will try schedule special gifts, dinners and surprises between school’s required demands, on “school’s” recommended help. Anything but confront the real problem — that the “schooled” spouse is in a cult and believes the institution should supersede his/her marriage.  This evolved expectation, coupled with the required lying, is becoming, and will be, “school’s” downfall. I’m confident that “school” is and will continue to corrode from the inside out.

Paranoia 4 — Confessing my cult days will prove, at best, embarrassing and, at worst, devastating: School’s arbitrary and self-serving “rules” infuse in your bones after you steep and marinate in them for a number of years. The fear of “breaking the rules” runs deep even after you leave the “evolving” rank and file. I consider this a cult-specific post-traumatic stress disorder.  Unlike P.T.S.D. experienced by war veterans, or victims of violent crime, the sense of fear is induced by a slow wearing away of the self — after all “we don’t know ourselves”; we need the more “highly evolved and enlightened teachers” who have been “doing the work longer” and “see us more clearly than we do”; they live from a higher level, floating above sleepwalkers and crawling caterpillars seeing “only life things” from a higher vantage point. The attack on your psyche is a slow-moving cancer; it gets under your skin and seeps into your bones, infecting your thoughts and emotions. The more you keep the silence, the more it spreads. The more it spreads, the more imprisoned you are by it and the more it damages you and yours.

The No More Secrets policy set me free; the truth unshackled me from my dependence — my addiction to “school”. As the shackles continue to fall away, I am no longer consumed with “school”-style evolution. I wake up to the wonder and beauty innate in every moment of every day. Like the Wizard of Oz, lift the curtain and you find a little old, bald guy — or in Robert’s case, a kind of round and overly tan guy — hiding behind a curtain manipulating strings. When you lift the veil, you find its “privacy” policies hide a seedy past and questionable and possibly illegal financial practices, “protecting” Sharon and Robert and hurting everyone else — although the possibility of tax evasion, or money laundering may bite “school’s” top lieutenant’s in the ass eventually. For in this age of vast technology, one only needs to turn to the internet to expose a con job, as you can see.

Still, for many people, the experience is too painful to reveal. Everyone has a personal reason for protecting their hearts. Admittedly, I may be crazy in my need to confess my cult days, to expose the institution as much as I as can, to keep others from falling into the “school” net. But my ongoing confession keeps healing me and setting me free; I strongly advocate finding a safe way to release and process those secrets, for in letting them go, I am confident that you will recover yourself. Each cult confession I make untangles me further from the invisible “school” shackles. This written account of my often ridiculous cult day untangles my spirit, heart and mind from the vast web of “school”-induced lies and paranoia. For “school’s” only power lies in the secrets we keep for it. When we raise the curtain, we see that “school’s” influence is limited to the poor souls who keep showing up at the Faulkner Mills building in Billerica, every Tuesday and Thursday — some of those attendees have been lugging around “school” shackles for 20, 30, 40 years. Ask them how its going; see if you get a sincere answer, or “clever insincerity”.

When you walk out and let go of the secrets you empower yourself. Your story, your truth, will set you free.

 

 

 

Heads up NYC/Gans survivors: Fellow ex-“student” seeking comradarie …

Today I received a message from a woman who referred to herself as a “Sharon Gans alum.” She attended the NYC group from 1979-1982 and wishes to decompress with some old “classmates”. Are there NYC people out there who would be open to connecting with her?

If so, please send an email to GSR@cultconfessions.com. I’ll get you in touch with each other.