About Sustainers …

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain …

Last night, while stuck in an I-95 construction zone, I found myself mulling over sustainers. Recently a contributor confirmed something I have now heard from “disgruntled ex-students”, near and far, past and present. It deserves the spotlight, because it’s such an egregious lie, such a contrived “school”-perpetrated deception. It is also ridiculous, so I can’t wait to make fun of it in that future musical.

Here’s the comment, gleaned from a much longer story that you can read here: “I realized that school was a fake. I had seen sustainer reports by accident, so I knew how teachers knew supposedly secret information. Now I knew that none of them had any kind of advanced insight or knowledge or ‘secret powers’. I used this to temper my life in school the last three years so I could survive.”

Yes folks, it appears that your “private” relationship, those “confidential” conversations, were reported back to the “leadership”. I guess “school” kept a notebook — a dossier if you will — on each and every attendee. Our sustainers, fellow “disgruntled(s), were responsible for keeping us compliant, attending and contributing financially.

Part of retaining membership included reporting on our “progress”. Teachers would then, cleverly and insincerely, bring up private matters in class at key moments — as though psychic, as though they could see and know more because of their “efforts”; because they had been “doing the work longer”.

It brought back a scene in “class”: a “student” was asking for “help”. I can’t remember the context; I do remember that her inquiry was not related to relationships. After careful contemplation the “teacher” offering her guidance tipped his head to one side as though thinking, paused dramatically, then announced, “I sense that you are lonely.” His presentation was so tender, so empathic, that I was suitably impressed.

“Wow! How could M be so tuned in?” I recall thinking. “I consider myself an empathic person and I didn’t pick up on her loneliness!”

Obviously, this moment stayed with me. Perhaps my memory imprinted it because I had briefly experienced transcendence through this higher being. Or I sensed the deceit in his presentation. Maybe some cell in my psyche woke up briefly, allowing awareness of that gnawing feeling that all “school” attendees get —  that sense of “something doesn’t feel right about this.” Most of us dismissed our perceptions, deferring to those “wiser, more evolved teachers.”  For many of us had come to believe and repeat this phrase: “The more evolved ‘teacher’ must understand something that I don’t”

In the past, I have put out a call for any former sustainer to write a guest post about his/her experience.  Perhaps it’s too hard to dreg this up, but if anyone whose been a sustainer could contribute some insight here, I would appreciate it. Perhaps a current “student” will find this blog and recognize the con job. Or perhaps your insight will provide peace to a former student who is still wondering if s/he has left “the source”. Either way, your truth would help to pull back the curtain, expose the wizard, and be of great service to those either seeking information and/or affirmation.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

School & Marriage: Repost

will you be my valentine?

Recently I discovered that the formatting on the original posting of School & Marriage got messed up, making it difficult to read. I thought it was worth re-posting. As a student, your marriage is soon be considered an “only life thing”. Therefore it is at risk of being victimized and sabotaged by “school-style evolution”:

I want to talk about “school’s” impact on your significant “unschooled” relationships. I am focusing on marriage primarily because my husband is the person closest to me. I have to come to terms with how my “school” involvement hurt him; but you could really insert any important relationship in to this scenario.

School spins a special brand of “school-induced” denial. Our illustrious leader likens “school” to the “French Revolution”.  A revolutionary does not blow off the mission due to laziness, or aimlessness — an “I don’t feel like going tonight to the super, secret strategy meeting.” or “I’d rather curl up on the couch with my spouse and watch West Wing than discuss ‘universal truths.’”  Come hell or high water, a revolutionary with “sufficient valuation” shows up for this exclusive, mission-critical calling.

Any man will do

If I am working on myself, Any man will do

Attend long enough and you buy into the “I am WORKING on MYSELF!” “I am a soul AWAKENING, in the world of sleep walking men and women!” programming. It translates into: My awakening, due to “school”, benefits my family, my friends, my co-workers, my dog, my fish, my neighbors, their fish, Barack Obama, the Police Department, the cashier at the nearby convenient store, all the customers standing in line with me, etc, etc, etc, because I am radiating fineness! I am a walking light casting shadows on the walls of the cave of darkness! Simply my presence as a woman who is ‘GROWING HER BEING’ will benefit all who come into contact with me.

You find yourself – even when every cell in you would rather stay home watching West Wing and snuggling with your spouse – justifying school’s need for your stellar attendance record and absolute silence and compliance.

I may be exaggerating somewhat (or not), but it happened to me, and my vanity glossed over the holes in the French Revolution argument; after all I was a spiritual revolutionary, a soldier marching off to war with my comrades!  Really, I was driving in rush hour traffic to an old, restored, mill in Billerica, to attend “class”. The French Revolution is over. There are no enemies hiding behind corners waiting to ambush the heretic seeking enlightenment – thus there is no legitimate reason for the urgent attend-every-class-at-all-costs requirement, high security and secretiveness (illegitimate reasons, a plenty, but that’s another chapter).

As a “school” student, your presence at home will decrease exponentially in correspondence with the increasing, exponentially growing, super-secret, mission-critical school demands. Of course the number of secrets required also expands exponentially; for if you make certain “efforts” for “school” (i.e. recruiting new students) you cannot discuss them with those in your “only life”. School calls these efforts “third line of work” and touts them essential to “awaken”, to “grow a soul”, to “evolve”. So not only is your physical presence limited, school cleverly hijacks your emotional and psychological presence.

Gradually, the “secrets” required of you will insert and wedge between you and your spouse. The wedge wiggles back and forth, widening the gap with each new demand. You are emotionally and spiritually distracted, physically taxed and sleep deprived; therefore absent even when your body is home.

So, let’s step back further to get some more perspective. One of the first things Robert tells new students is that “sleeping humanity” has a skewed relationship to time. Everyone is “so busy.” He scoffs at this and says, “If you tell me you don’t have time to do this or that, I won’t believe you.” Thus the seeds of  “school” can dismiss the time you need for your insignificant “only life things” are planted early.

So let’s outline school’s evolving time requirements: as a new “younger student” you disappear on Tuesdays and Thursdays between the hours of 6:30-9 or so. When deemed “ready”, you join with the “older class” which extends to say 9:45, 10:00, sometimes 10:30, 11:00 – after which you “observe the required one hour of silence” to “seal off leaks”. I don’t know about you, but if I were to go home and “observe an hour of silence” there, my husband would find it odd. Tack on another hour. Often times during that hour I would enlighten my spirit at the McDonald’s drive through, because I’d rushed from work to “class” without dinner.

After being in school between three to six months, you graduate from “youngest student” to the “been here long enough” phase. One day while sitting in reverent silence awaiting the day’s lesson, a “teacher” will announce, “ I need to see these people.” S/he will read a list of names, including yours. The anointed will file into another room in silent anticipation and dread. Once there the teacher will say one of three things:

1)    “We’re going to have a party.”

2)     “Robert needs our help to grow the school. You have been chosen to embark on a very special ‘third line of work’ (congratulations!) And it only requires you to go out and make new friends.”

3)    “We’re going to present a lecture/presentation and we need you to ‘invite people’.”

These three items need their own sections to flesh out the amount of “effort” and “work” required to throw a “school party”, or go out and “make new essence friends” without revealing your last name, work, home town, whether you have kids or not, own a dog, floss your teeth daily, etc., or invite friends to a “presentation” that has no title, topic, date or location. Suffice to say that you can expect to see your spouse, and or kids, or your “life” friends far less than you presently do. And guess what – they notice your absence. They feel your absence. And they feel something else — insincerity. You tell a white lie, like I’m going to meet a particular friend for coffee, when in fact you are meeting a potential new recruit, or going to a “school” meeting that falls on a Wednesday. If you know that you are telling a half-truth, or a seemingly innocuous lie, or omitting information, they feel it. The gap between you and your loved one widens some more.

For those readers “not in school”, I can hear the thought, “No shit, Sherlock”. But those of us in (or who were in) need rude awakenings to get this message. Often times we would set “aims” to do something special for our beloved. Does the quality time make up for the quantity of time missed? We begin to believe that we can control our spouse’s disappointment with a special dinner, or trip, or gift. We can’t. When the special gift or event doesn’t work and we ask our “sustainers” or “teachers” why not? We are told that if our “beings were stronger, more evolved,” if our “efforts were more sufficient” then we would soothe the savage beast. We must “work harder on ourselves”. Of course, no body states the obvious: these special and “aim-full” events don’t bring back lost time and don’t sooth the loneliness and worry. The loneliness, the worry and your absence will only increase with each passing year.

Alarms may sound but it often takes screeching sirens to shake us out of our hypnotism-induced stupors. Someone is fired. Someone’s spouse, or sibling, or friend, or children confronts them – “What is this thing you are going to every Tuesday and Thursday night. Are you in some kind of a cult?”

Someone loses his/her marriage.

So let me dial back to the marriages. Guess what, no matter what line you’ve been fed, your spouse is not benefiting, unless you’ve chosen to share some of the real and fine ideas that school does indeed expose one to, albeit in a rather twisted presentation. Of course, you break the code of silence when talking about these “secret ideas” outside of school, unless sanctioned by school – which certainly would never be the case unless you are specifically recruiting a new sheep into the fold. I’ve yet to meet a colleague who recruited a spouse.

I left school in August, and it is now February.  Just shy of seven months and several hundred miles later (my husband and I drove from Massachusetts to South Carolina this August and the miles between provided a number of “Oh my God” moments) I can only conclude that school “aims” to break up marriages. Of course my post-leaving discovery that many students in the “older class” are married to each other, or married to teachers highlights this conclusion. And the further discovery that Queen Sharon – the New York branches leader and Robert’s “teacher” – arranges these marriages and breaks them up at her whim further confirms it.

When I decided to leave school, I didn’t know about “school marriages”. I knew that my marriage, my relationship to my soul mate – which had survived several significant losses already including parents, grandparents, jobs and homes – would not survive school. I knew I was not willing to trade him in for this institution. This realization fell on me, followed by an avalanche of others, the most important one being this:

Robert did me a huge favor when he passed on the instruction TELL YOUR HUSBAND TO MIND HIS OWN BUSINESS (insert Wizard of Oz voice here). It shook me out of my stupor. I thought, “But this is his business. If I have to tell him to ‘mind his own business’ in order to be in school, I can’t be in school.”

Later I discovered that Robert is (of course) married to another teacher and I kept hearing echoes of him saying, “I am trying to put myself in your husband’s shoes.”  When I quit school, we talked on the phone. His voice heavy with disappointment he said, “It’s a terrible thing your husband has done to you.” All theater. It is easy to be “in school” when married to another attendee; you don’t have to explain the unexplainable. There are no lies to tell.

As with so many other ironies that exist behind the hallowed halls, suddenly being available to my marriage made me awaken to it. For the last seven months, simply being home to write grocery lists with him without being exhausted or distracted took on new meaning. My gratitude for the man, our union, and the life we work towards together has only grown deeper, along side the love we have for each other.

A healthy marriage needs time and trust. School strips its students of both. Your time becomes its time. Your voice morphs into a font of school propaganda, allowing it to continue its super, secret, critical mission to keep Sharon and Robert rich, at the expense of your “only life things”. Not only are you “paying for your arising” at $350/month, the interest rate increases exponentially with each passing day.  So my hope, dear reader, is that, if nothing else, you come away from this post knowing this:

Nothing can make up for the time lost, except for time together. Nothing can restore trust but voicing the truth. This time, your time, is far too precious to squander away in “school”. Your truth, told in your voice will ring true, thus restoring trust and providing healing.

Break “The Rules”

Recently, a friend interviewed me about my “school” days at a private event. As I answered her questions, a sea of wide-eyed, un-“schooled”, quizzical and puzzled expressions faced me; their inquiries quickly started pelting out, one leading to another popcorn-ing into a lid-lifting pile. Unprepared for the onslaught, I had to keep reminding myself that their bewilderment was normal. I have become accustomed to talking cult.

The contrast between their shock, my surprise at their shock, and my ongoing conversations with “disgruntled ex-students” provides a stark reality check: with enough exposure, “school”-style thought reform becomes normal — freedom of speech be damned. The longer my tenure, the more dependent I “became”. The more dependent I became, the more I sought “teacher help” and approval. The more “help” and “approval” I sought, the more subject I felt to random “school” dictates – everyone in “school” seeks approval: “students” look to “teachers”; “teachers” look to Robert; and Robert looks to Sharon.

This group dependence comes from a cult-concocted mirage – a hierarchy that conveniently places “teachers” on the upper rungs as those who have been doing the work longer, with Sharon residing on top. At certain key moments a “teacher” would demonstrate his/her prophetic powers – magically sensing personal things and/or bringing up private matters in class, as though s/he was psychic. Of course, “school’s” “younger students” don’t know that “sustainers” report “confidential” conversations to the leadership. “School” uses the information to bolster the above-mentioned mirage, spinning “teachers” into prescient, “higher beings” with clairvoyant powers, connected to and supported by the Divine.

The truth is that the cult only has power if we follow “school” rules and keep cult secrets. If we don’t question where the money goes, or where the ideas originated, why the source of these ideas are kept from us, whether our “teachers” are truly more evolved, if we don’t ask why the lies are really necessary and who the lies protect, if we stay isolated by honoring “school’s” non-fraternization rule, we perpetuate this mirage. As a “student” your “only life things” will get squashed under the weight of propping up the leadership. If a “student” questions why “school” relegates his/her time, un-“schooled” relationships, passions, health, etc, to the lower rungs, in service to the cult’s mysterious “higher aim”, highly-evolved “teachers” will throw the inquiry back: “Why are you mixing levels?” That pat response becomes normal.

When I finally left the ranks, I had to put intentional and concerted efforts into separating my authentic beliefs from cult propaganda. Fortunately, I discovered a simple and clear-cut path to psychological and emotional health: break “the rules” — tell your story to other people; it doesn’t matter whether those other people are colleagues, or not; as you release yourself from “school”-sponsored secrets, you release yourself from a strange and invisible esoteric prison. For the more you talk freely about your experience, the more you separate the wheat from the chaff and your true beliefs from “school” dictates. When you extract yourself from cult programming, and reconnect to your authentic beliefs and nature, you truly do remember yourself.

Repost of My “School”-Free Year

Burning observation notebooks

I came across this post, written in 2012 to mark my first year of freedom. It still holds true today, 2.5 years later. I’ve included a link to the original comments, an accompanying discussion which concludes that life is much sweeter when cult free:

My “School”-Free Year

One year ago this week I made my first independent decision in five  years and left “school”. I would like to mark that anniversary in this post and check in with one my intentions in writing this blog: to sort through and make meaning out of this experience and understand why I chose it and stayed in it for five years. Here are my conclusions:

Why I chose “school”:
As a woman who had been feeling lost since adolescence, I bumbled into adulthood, clinging to artistic dreams, but without the tools or confidence to realize them.  I ached for guidance and sought direction and purpose at every turn, but a longing for something unexplainable (and seemingly unattainable) clamored relentlessly. Ah, but along came “school” – with “aim”, ideas and teachings that touched on everything from the universal, to the personal, to the cosmological, to the historical, to the spiritual and to the psychological. And it came with “help”. “Thank God,” I remember thinking after attending my first classes at the Belmont Lion’s Club. “I have finally found ‘help’.”

“School” may preach that confidence is a fallacy; that it doesn’t exist. I would argue that confidence, or lack thereof, determined my vulnerability to cult marketing; had I the confidence to trust my inner counsel, I may have tried the “five-week experiment”, but I would not have been sucked in for five years.

Why I stayed in “school”:

Observation Notebook Burning

Given that I lacked confidence and sought guidance, I was “school’s” almost perfect target demographic (if I had money, I would have been perfect). Hope fused me to my newly discovered adventure; I longed to believe it was something real. My new “education” addressed body, mind, heart and spirit comprehensively as nothing else had. Over the first two years, I matured in many ways and my life began to reflect that – I went from temp-worker to decently paid copywriter, single to engaged and from seeing myself as intellectually limited to realizing a passion for history, literature and even the previously dreaded sciences. The teaching was helping; the help was working — until it didn’t.

By that time — had I some level of confidence — I would have thought, it is time to move on. Instead, I fell into a common syndrome – the “I’m not trying hard enough” stage show. Many ‘students’ entertain this stage show and the longer one attends “school”, the more “school” exploits the insecurities that orchestrate, cast and choreograph it. “Teachers” reminded us consistently “If you weren’t in school, you wouldn’t have [FILL IN THE BLANK — the marriage, the new job, the lovely home, etc.]”

Fear replaced hope; not trusting my perceptions, I turned to their tutelage, even as my life was deteriorating into the life I never wanted. The more my life deteriorated, the more I questioned my ability to make choices, instead of their guidance – I turned to “teachers” more and more, in fact. I didn’t ask the obvious question: Why am I afraid to say no to instructions given by “teachers” when they feel wrong to me? When I was laid off in 2010, and in a financial quandary, my prevailing thought was,“ Thank God, I have ‘help’!” instead of the more sensible “I can no longer afford to pay the $350 a month ‘tuition’.”

“How did my life get so off track?” I bemoaned myself, “Is my internal compass so out of whack that I can never trust it? Will I have to ask for ‘help’ forever?”

This type of skewed and fearful thinking makes possible the paralyzing dependence fostered by “school”. The leadership reminded us consistently, “Everyone needs help. The student who asks for the most ‘help’ is the student who evolves the fastest.” Thus each day of my tenure, I abdicated more responsibility and inevitably a constant uncertainty replaced my initial optimism. There is no graduation date. Once you’ve entered the den, you begin the march into an unspoken life-long commitment, and “school’s students” “evolve” into indebted bundles of dependent insecurity.

Deriving Meaning – If You Meet The Buddha on the Road, Kill Him:
With one year of “school”-free perspective, I can see that “school” became a mirror reflecting my internal beliefs: I had believed myself incapable, the joy I sought beyond me, my natural strengths and aptitudes for the arts, compassion and empathy unimportant and/or unattainable. “School” was happy to reflect this back adding the unspoken message of you can become a real woman, but only with ‘school’s help’. Otherwise you are doomed to circle the same track of unfulfilled potential until you die.

Thus I turned to false prophets and let them yank me around. The real woman woke up the moment she recognized “school’s help” as a prison with bars constructed from fear and dependence. I became that real woman the moment I said “no” to “school’s” instruction of “Tell your husband to mind his own business.” I finally recognized the blatant disregard for my life, husband and family communicated through this instruction.  The real woman had to embrace the responsibilities and consequences that came along with saying no – this is real freedom, with all of its challenges and rewards.

I have come to believe that every person has an internal compass and it cannot be dictated externally. Once upon a time, mine led me into a false “school” and then – with real help from my husband – it led me out of this “school”.  It may have been a mistake, but do we not learn the most from our mistakes? The moment I said, “No” changed and defined me anew. Today, when I fall into old habits of doubting myself, I can look back at life while in “school” and see the fearful woman who dreaded the sunrise and compare it with life now that every cell in me welcomes each new day. Through my “school” experience, I released myself from the lifelong and constant search for mentoring and meaning; the very mechanisms that led me into “school” fell away the moment I said “no” to it.

Now each new day presents a chance to practice honoring and following my internal compass, for better or for worse. And as I bumble along, sometimes flying, sometimes crashing, I accept my “school” days as the necessary foray that pushed me into a corner that offered two choices – to follow the route whose road signs are constructed and orchestrated by “school”, or to follow this internal compass.   As I choose the latter, I see that life is a perfectly imperfect and lovely journey and its meaning comes from within.

Link to original comments: http://cultconfessions.com/2012/08/10/my-school-free-year/#comments

Resources and Corroboration: Clever Sincerity & Cult Education Institute

Yesterday, I decided to revisit the blog Clever Sincerity. I don’t know why I haven’t pointed readers to this particular page before: http://cleversincerity.tk/new-read-this-first/

It provides a clear and comprehensive assessment of “school” in general, as well as links to the Cult Education Institute, created by Rick Ross.

Apparently, a group of “disgruntled ex-students” from New York provided information to Ross about that branch (i.e. corporate headquarters). It was posted in 2002; the information mirrors my Boston branch experiences almost exactly, and I started this blog in 2012. I guess some things don’t change. Here are some pages I found particularly helpful and poignant:

I hope that you find these resources helpful. Break “the rules”.

 

 

 

Lightening the mood …

Shortly after the inception of cult confessions, there was some banter about creating a musical called “School”. I still think about doing it; “School” provides everything a musical would need: ridiculous story line, characters and song and dance scenes. But there is no topping The Book of Mormon. It covers everything! Last week my husband and I sat in the nosebleed seats at The Boston Opera House and laughed from start to finish. It was worth every penny of overpriced seat. If you can pull it off, it’s the best medicine.

“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.