Recently, I was conversing with fellow exiles and the topic turned to “school’s” “help”. One of my co-horts described it as The Unholy Trinity and I had to share.

The Unholy Trinity

“School” claims that its “help” is informed from “above”, i.e. “teachers” who have been “doing the work longer” and are therefore existing on a higher plane. Other options for help, such as therapy for example, come from the “level of life” – or those who aren’t in “school” and are still asleep. Therefore, “school” holds the patent on real “help”.

The Unholy Trinity works on the three-step model of receiving help, expressing gratitude and owing “school”. Let’s take a look at how this works, shall we?

Step 1) Receive “Help”
Let’s say I need more money. I state a “five-week aim” to get a job. With “sustainer” guidance, I crank out resumes, applications, cold calls and in-person visits to offices where I hand out resumes to people I’ve never met, fueled by the “school principle” of as long as you are working any job will do. Some times I run out of steam and ask for “help” in “class” and “teachers” suggest alternative approaches. By the end of the five weeks I have a job. After two years I hate the job, so I’m fucking it up and in addition, it never payed enough to cover my expenses to begin with, so I’m always stressed financially. I rinse and repeat the same employment-seeking formula and eventually, with “help”, I get a job that pays me more than I’ve ever earned. Suddenly I am financially independent. I still wind up hating this job — but more importantly — I’m making a lot more money.

Step 2) Express Gratitude:
I acknowledge in “class” that I couldn’t have found these jobs without “the work” and steady guidance from my “sustainer” and “teachers.” This job with its middle-class salary becomes the measure of my worth as an adult. I’ve become a “woman who can pay for her own arising”. I realize that I am more capable than I believe I am. I thank “school” for introducing me to “the work” and for the “help”. I look forward to having more money and being able to put my attention on other passions, most notably, music.

Step 3) Owe With Interest:

Over time, I realize that — like a credit card — “school’s” “help” comes with an undisclosed ever-expanding interest rate and hidden fees. At first “help” is part of the free introductory five-week experiment. Then “school” wraps it into the monthly “tuition”. At a certain point “school” directs its “students” into the “third line of work”, or new student recruitment. Those who wish to evolve, can’t do so without “giving back to school”, because evolution requires “3 lines of work”, work on yourself, helping others and working for “school”. Most “students” hate recruitment. But “school” will remind them that any good thing in their lives is due to the highly evolved “help” only available from “school”.

The longer you are in “school”, the more the exponentially-expanding “school” demands devour your time. My “only life things” and passions and pursuits were increasingly relegated into corners and spaces not being devoured by “school”. These corners and spaces shrunk in concert with my growing tenure.

Something else began to happen; an emptiness began to fill my heart as my psyche became more fragmented over time. This phenomenon is difficult to describe; I can only say the more demands “school” put on me — top secret orders that I could not reveal to friends or family — the more carved up and pulled apart my psychology felt. My desire to play music and write songs haunted me, but my ability to focus was more and more compromised, as was my ability to connect to my voice and express it in the written word. For the first time since I could pen words on paper, I found myself almost unable to write.

At the same time, and what made this process confusing,  “school” offered “help” that helped. When my father became very ill and passed away, a “teacher” called me daily, offering support and prayers and helping me navigate my grief, as well as the family dysfunction that percolated up as we  faced his death. I imagine that every student has a similar story of extraordinary and real help given by a “teacher”, or “sustainer”.

Other help, though, didn’t feel the same.  We stood in class and revealed our innermost wishes, our deepest scars and our most powerful fears.  Like an abusive relationship, “school” initially offered understanding and validation, but slowly, insidiously its “help” mutated into something humiliating, painful, and confusing with a focus on “your chief weakness”.  The seeds of doubt about who you think you are took root and started growing.

We justified that the “teachers” must know something we don’t: after all s/he has been doing “the work” longer/is more evolved/is a “teacher”, etc. Teachers regularly emphasized that this special and “real” teaching ” says  I don’t know myself; I am a “multiplicity” — I don’t have control over my thoughts, my feelings, or my actions. I am a woman who “cannot do”. I need “help” to become the evolved woman I wish to be.

The more faith we lost in ourselves, the more we needed guidance from “above”. The more guidance we needed, the more we owed. This bottomless debt structure is how “school” coerces some “students” into a life-long tenure, til death do they part.

Looking back on my cult experience, I’m amazed by the diabolical brilliance of “school’s” indoctrination. While *in* the cult, I was acutely aware of the brilliance, but most of the time I was unable to see the sinister coercion and when I did, I didn’t trust my perceptions; everything appeared to be so divinely orchestrated that when I received “help” that felt deliberately humiliating (for example being called out as a “princess” for deciding to quit a coffee shop job that I sucked at and only paid $9/hour) or witnessed another “student” receiving a verbal whipping, I dismissed the myriad of emotions and screaming inner voices that said, step away from the cult, ma’am. “I must not understand something that my more highly-evolved ‘teachers’ do,” I remember thinking. I now know that these “teachers” are simply holding true to The Unholy Trinity, playing out their roles in the three-step process of receive help, express gratitude and owe “school” with interest. You owe, you owe, so off to “school” you go.

Lately, I’ve been going through another phase of letting go of “school”, focusing on other passions, like making music. I haven’t felt the need to write posts. Traffic on the blog has trickled off, which is — in some ways– disappointing, and nice in other ways; it means that others are moving on, too.

Despite this reprieve, a favorite “school” phrase is haunting me: “those are only life things.” As un-schooled spouses, adult children and friends contact me, the insidious damage “school” wrought by dismissing them as “only life things” comes into focus. Thankfully this haunting comes hand-in-hand with its antidote: a “student’s” salvation lies in the people and the things that s/he loves. Once they take precedence and “school” has to accommodate “only life”, instead of the other way around, it’s no longer possible to remain a “student”, til death do you part. Wherein love lies is the healing.

When I bumbled into “school”, my first two years appeared to be about my evolution, which included following my impulses and manifesting my dreams. “School” told me anything was possible and that in me awaited a butterfly: if I followed “school” instruction the butterfly might unfold from its chrysalis and fly. I was excited and wanted to believe they knew something that I didn’t. I wanted to fly.

I noticed, though, that once I’d established myself as a loyal attendee, my “evolution” relied more and more heavily on “school” things and “life things” were more and more often dismissed as “only life”. Students would ask for “help” with a spouse, a child, a job, etc. Teachers would more and more frequently respond with “those are  only life things” insignificant on the scale of universal importance and higher meaning: alleged “school” ideas, “school” parties and chasing and pinning down potential new students — i.e. increased income — insidiously began to supersede my marriage, my finances, my work, my home, my family, my passions, my dreams, my emotional and physical health. Needless to say, all of my “only life things” began to suffer. But, of course, that was because I “wasn’t trying hard enough”, not because “school” was (is) a destructive mind-control cult.

I found myself following protocol in lockstep with my classmates. In correspondence, an emptiness began to fill me; for the phrase “That’s Only Life” began to wear down my already tenuous sense of self-worth. All that I held sacred and true, insignificant in the grand scheme. I kept waiting for the day that I “got it” and my internal butterfly would break free from “only life” confines, flying off to sip nectar from flowers and converse with the Gods. Maybe one day I would “try hard enough” and be rewarded! But the longer I was *in* the farther away and more elusive that magical day appeared. I felt unable to juggle “school demands and my “only life things”.

When exposed to this “only life things” attitude for long enough, “school” attendees begin to freeze up; when “only life things” inevitably challenge their “school” demands, “students” ask for “help” from “teachers” and, therefore, begin to address the inevitable “school”-sponsored conflicts with the same dismissive, odd and cold attitude that their “teachers” display — for the longer you attend “school”, the less meaning your little insignificant “life things” have. ”

In one of my early Christmas Party planning experiences a classmate told us that her father was in the hospital. Despite this, she was trying to attend every party-planning, meal-organizing, decoration-making, performance-rehearsing, meeting that she could. I was surprised that no one expressed concern about her father; “school” offered no empathy. No one said the simple phrase, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad!” or “I hope he’s o.k.” I even heard her tell a teacher not to give up on her when he criticized her intermittent attendance. At the time, it struck me as odd and confusing. How could this evolved institution be so cold to her father’s illness? It should have been a screaming siren, but I was indoctrinated enough to believe there must have been something about the situation I didn’t understand. Now that I see my questions were right on target and since I kept silent the memory is especially heart breaking.

I’m happy to report that this student eventually disappeared from the ranks, as so many do. A couple of things saved me from trading in my “only life things”, until those life things were no more, for efforts to chase an unattainable, undefinable state. These things were both seeded in love both for a person and a passion:

1) I was lucky to have inner revolutionaries who refused to fall into line completely. They didn’t want to run around recruiting new soldiers for the evolutionary battle, allegedly saving ideas for future “school” generations. They missed the time I used to spend on music; they wanted to stay home and play the fiddle, or the guitar, or work on new songs. They didn’t want to waste precious early morning hours on the phone with some older recruitment coach. Besides that, those “school” demands felt antithetical to them, sleazy, unethical, manipulative, coercive. Those rebels openly resented the demands; felt “growing school” was not my problem and shouldn’t take my time and energy.   For a time, I wrote them off as lazy parts of my psyche (or lazy “Is”, as “school” likes to call them). I tried to ignore them. But the more empty, lost, inadequate, desperate and hopeless I felt, the more they poked at me.

2) Somehow my husband was seeing, hearing and feeling that which I tried not to show or tell him. His genuine love and concern for my well-being led him to take steps just when I felt myself hitting an existential wall; in fact, I remember thinking, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. As if on cue, one night he researched the mysterious Tues/Thurs group online and confronted me with his findings. He told me later that he doesn’t know why he researched and confronted me when he did; something in him said, do it now. I think love led him to it; love senses and knows things which our other sense might not.

I now keep contact with several other rank dissenters; we are “breaking school rules” by breaking the imposed isolation (crucial in the healing process) and, from what I can see, many of us left “school” for something, or someone, we love. In one case, “school” was pressuring a woman to leave her un-“schooled” husband when what she wanted was to have a second child. Instead she left “school” and now they have two children and an intact marriage. Another attendee left when he saw through the smoke and mirrors into the damage that “clever insincerity” and “school”-imposed secrecy wrought on his wife and two children.

Another father took a break from “school” intending to return — in part because he believed he needed “school’s” “help” to be the loving husband and father he wanted to be. Suddenly he had unobstructed family time for his son and pregnant wife and he loved it. After his daughter was born, a “teacher” called him to check in. He told this “teacher” about the new baby, how he loved being a father and that basically, “life things” were great. The “teacher” grew exasperated and impatient never congratulating the father or expressing any happiness for him. At that moment it was clear that “school” had no interest in his family, his happiness or his ability to take care of his wife and children.  Another ex-classmate simply grew tired of the ever-exponentially-growing “school” requirements that ate into the time and energy he wanted to put towards other passions. In fact, one “school” night, he decided he’d rather go to a concert so he did (GASP! an unthinkable trespass for us “school” doobies!) While out, he consulted his smartphone and Googled “secret school, Billerica”, which pulled up all the evidence he needed to say goodbye.

In my case, “school” instructed me via our fearless leader, Robert, to “tell your husband to mind his own business”. I couldn’t cross that line. Suddenly I woke up to the complete and blatant disregard “school” had for the man that I love. I knew that in telling him to “mind his own business”, I would have been trading my marriage in for “school”. I found that my little marriage would always take precedence over “school’s” illustrious and mysterious aim (more students, more money) and if that made me some kind of failure, or sinner, so be it. I’d rather “fail” in love, the “succeed” in feeding greed.

Recently, I began reading Steve Hassan’s book, Freedom of Mind, which outlines his process to help people leave destructive, mind-control cults. He has developed techniques centered on love, respect and open communication. In fact, community, friends, family, other ex-cult members, sometimes even other members presently in the cult, play a critical role in what he calls the Strategic Interactive Approach (SIA). He assembles a team of people who love the cult-attendee  and they work together to empower the individual and reconnect him/her to those people and things that s/he loves. They are often able to help that person return to his/her true self and his/her “only life things”, leaving behind the cult.

If you are reading this because you are *in* school and struggling, or if you love someone who is caught in the web, know that at some point the “only life things”, the people and things loved by the “student”, will come into direct conflict with “school”. “School” will demand that the student choose between them in some way.

If you are *in* remember these “only life things” are Your Life.

Your “only life”.

Your Only Life will either be shaped and motored by love for the people therein, or passions to pursue, or “school” dictated, shaped, and motored by the fear that you didn’t make your observation aims, or didn’t really go out to recruit new students when you said you would, or didn’t read the assigned homework, or didn’t say the morning prayer, or fell asleep while “self-sensing”, blah, blah, blah; there are so many  ways you could “fail” “school”.

And when you are pointed towards your true north, the right choice will be clear.

If you are reading this “school” has most likely affected you. Chances are, many of you are trying to understand the behaviors of a current “student”. Your legitimate and sincere concerns are being met with pat, odd, dismissive and cold responses. These deflective tactics don’t ring true to the person you know and you might be baffled by his/her defensiveness.

Like any good cult, “school” employs an arsenal of manipulative tactics. Never is this more true then when the un-schooled dare question the institution; “school” amps up its retain-at-all-costs-machinery and sets to work. Recently a fellow escapee shared his experience with me and supplied  the following: a list of the “school”- sponsored clever insincerity employed on him; the reasons why these tactics failed; a sample letter as a template (in the next post) for those trying to reach current “students”.

I hope the next two posts shed light on “school” psychology and provide tools to help you reach the person for whom you are concerned:

Introduction:
The following letter, written by the same escapee, exposes the “school”-sponsored pressures applied when “students” contemplate leaving. It provides an approach that preempts “school’s” commonly used retention protocol. Understand, Dear Reader, that “leaving” can be terrifying. My fear was such that I started killing the messenger – my husband. He had shattered my faith in “school” as the path to enlightenment. But I couldn’t refute his observations and questions as they rang too true.

Suddenly after five years of asking for “help”, I had to make my own decision. I had to realize that my fear was making it easy for “school” to fill my time. I woke up. I was ready to cut myself off from “the source”. Readiness is the key; you, Dear Reader, can sow seeds of doubt and share your honest emotions. The rest is up to the “student”. Sadly, sometimes “students” aren’t ready and will give decades to this fallacy. There is no graduation date — the longer you attend, the more you “owe”. What “school”  initially presents as a “five–week experiment”  grows into constantly * evolving * debt.

But If the “student” is ready to contemplate his/her questions the doubts will grow from within, thus the decision will come from him or her. There is nothing more powerful than that moment of independent decision. It is in that spirit, that I post this letter. I hope it provides you the understanding needed approaching your loved one and the seeds that will empower them to realize that they “owe” “school” nothing and are free to reclaim their lives as a “school”-free birthright:

Dear current “school”/ OSG attendee:

I’ve been told that the first thing you are likely going to do upon receiving this is to immediately call someone in school for help.  And that they will tell you I’m trying “fuck” with what’s your private business.  And that our relationship together is just “life” and unimportant on the scale of the higher meaning that you get from your group.  That you are doing important work, saving humanity in fact, by preserving ideas that will die without you and the rest of the group’s efforts to preserve them.  And by refining your own being to emanate finer and finer vibrations out into the world.

With that in mind, how can our relationship, however painful it might be for you to sacrifice, compete with that?  Choosing your group over our relationship is the selfless right thing to do, and necessary for your own evolution.  You must trust your own fine experience at school over whatever anyone on the outside might try to tell you.  Don’t even listen to what outsiders have to say about school – it is all lies, and it will pollute your mind and make further work on yourself impossible and destroy everything you’ve worked so hard for.

If you have your own doubts about school, you must remember that there is a Judas inside you, eager to tear down everything finer in you.  Don’t trust those doubts – trust the fineness of the experience you’ve had.  Also, those who have left school and are leading fulfilling lives have “stolen” the work, using it to lead “comfortable” lives but are living without consciousness.  How could you betray those who have helped you so much in the same way?  Keep in mind that it is more likely — were you ever to leave — that your life would become meaningless and gray, and you’d forever regret throwing everything away.

In all likelihood, you will continue to listen to this message.  You have had fine experiences.  Your teachers and fellow students are genuine and sincere and wish to help you and others find their higher selves. You have made real advances.  Your life has improved.  Why would you ever jeopardize that?

I only ask that you consider the effect that this work has had on me.  I have felt shut out.  I have felt lied to.  In your heart of hearts, you know that you have lied to me.  You’ve been taught that this is not really “lying” but “clever insincerity.”  You’ve been taught this lying is necessary to protect school.  This may be true but that doesn’t change the effect it has on others.  I can feel the insincerity.  While I may not have known until recently the extent of the deception, I could always feel it.  It has been deeply painful for me.

And your reaction to my questions has been equally painful.  Try to put yourself in my shoes.  If you learned that I was involved with something that you believed was harmful to me, would you not try to find out more about it?  Would it not be a sign that you cared about me?  And if I reacted violently to your inquiry and shut you out completely, would you not be hurt, confused and sad?

I also ask that you consider a phrase you might have heard at school: “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”  Is it possible that your school is based on real and true ideas, with genuine and sincere students and teachers, but that it has veered off course from its original path? Would not its foundation in true ideas explain your fine experiences and the gains you have made?  Would it not explain how genuine and true everyone’s intentions are?  And would not its wrong turn explain the difficulty students have staying married to non-students? Would it not explain why many students disappear? Have you ever found a leader’s actions questionable but written it off to you not understanding?  Have you ever had the courage to directly question a leader’s actions?

The “fourth way” is the teaching by George Gurdjieff that your school is based on.  Gurdjieff taught about A B and C influence – and asserted that real knowledge, a.k.a. C influence, must be passed from person to person.  So if your school were a true school, and not a “degenerate” one (a term used by Gurdjieff) there would be some direct connection to Gurdjieff or someone else who had achieved consciousness.

Is it not possible that Sharon stole the ideas of Gurdjieff and used them to create a school that served her own vanity?  That all of her students are running around learning the ideas of this study and listening to her every word and following her every instruction genuinely trying to achieve consciousness?  But that she herself has no connection to Gurdjieff, and has insisted on complete secrecy and deception to make sure none of her students find out?  Would this not explain both the good and the bad that you have experienced at school?

And wouldn’t that also explain why so many students had such positive experiences initially, but then had fewer and fewer such experiences the longer they stayed?  Perhaps the school, not having any connection to a conscious being, is able to introduce people to the basic ideas, but unable to grapple with deeper ideas or take its students very far down a spiritual path? And would that not provide a plausible way out?

There are in fact true schools that have a direct line to Gurdjieff scattered around the world, including in the Boston area.  These schools, unlike yours, do not have the same level of secrecy.  Would it not be worth talking to that school to learn more about your group and whether it has or has not veered off course? I know you have been instructed away from the internet: but if your school was legitimate, would it not stand up to the scrutiny? Don’t you deserve to know what those criticisms are in order to truly make your own decision as to whether they strike true or false to you?

If for nothing else, could you not do this for me, as someone who has been deeply hurt by what I believe to be a well-intentioned but ultimately misguided group?

I understand that this decision is painful, and there is no one on the planet that can tell you what is true and right for you. I hope you feel that my inquiry is coming from sincere love and concern for you. In that spirit, I will step back and give you the time and space you need.

Love, [YOUR NAME]

Recently, Jehovah’s Witnesses, one adult woman and one teenage girl, knocked on my door. They were talking to people about prejudice. Being familiar with cult recruitment tactics, I asked whether they were working on a project. No. Were they proselytizing. They looked confused (maybe they didn’t understand the word proselytize). We are encouraging people to read the bible, the elder told me.

I read the bible almost every morning. When I told them, the elder looked pleased. The younger fidgeted. The elder said God simply wanted us to live well and fear Him. I asked her whether she thought God operated from a place of fear. I think God operates from love, I said. She agreed. I spouted off my problems with biblical depictions of a jealous God and illustrations of women as property. They offered me a brochure, that I declined. If I had questions, I said, I would go to a Rabbi,  since I am Jewish. They went on to the next house.

I enjoyed our chat. I miss philosophical conversations about big questions. And it felt good to express my questions fully. In “school” “teachers” orchestrated our “discussions” steering all interactions through the “school”-appropriate funnel. Sometimes I picture those “classes”, filled with people seeking freedom and light,  shackled and weighed down by “school” rules implemented to guard shadowy secrets.

No longer bound by these “rules”, I feel free in thousands of simple daily interactions. My precious weekends are no longer impeded by 7 a.m. recruitment meetings, or coffee dates with perspective “students”, or burdened by the nagging obligation to recruit 24/7  — always be on the lookout for those in need of “school”. I am free to simply live. I feel badly for those two women. Maybe there are people who enjoy canvasing door-to-door, imploring strangers to read the Gospel. But I’m willing to bet that there are other things they’d rather be doing.

We’ve all been there; we came to believed we “owed” “school” and had to pay with our lives, literally giving away precious time and energy; some lost decades to “school”. We could have been playing with our kids, or making music, or  hiking trails in the White Mountains, or strolling the beach, or reading a good book, or visiting Foxwoods in Connecticut.  We could have been doing almost anything else.

I  feel badly for current “students”, who are now carrying the burden of “school’s” demand to “give back” what is “owed”.  I thank God I am free of the deceptive practices spurred by “school’s” AIM: approaching strangers, carting around a pretend project (I’m writing a book and am asking people about x) and hidden agenda (recruit more manpower and money for “school”). Needless to say, after the ladies left, I thought, “There but for the grace of God go I.” And went outside to work in my perfectly imperfect garden.

Happy school-free summer to you, too!

Dear Readers,

I am so excited to share this piece of auditory brilliance, written and provided by a fellow escapee.  I love the way he wove “observations” into the song giving them the perfect creepy character they deserve. Would love to hear about your favorite parts! And now, for your listening pleasure:

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/98967833″ params=”” width=” 100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /]

The OSG song (oh, so, good)

OH, SO, GOOD…so, good…so, good…

I’m climbing up towards a finer place
objectively observing, and forcing smiles upon my face
But I just can’t seem to shake this sinking feeling
(no buts no justs, no buts no justs)
You tell me move myself in circles,
we’re forcibly denying. and it’s…

Oh, So, Good
I’m evolving higher
these ideas you stole and bastardized
oh how they inspire
and it’s…
Oh, So, Good
You say you need me to be all in
and address the check ‘OSG’
to pay for my arising
Oh, So, Good
and you keep feeding me lies
in your truth of choosing’s disguise.

What an amazing feat
in this age of vast technology,
to keep us in the shadows…
and blind to your hypocracy.

But I guess I should give credit where it’s due,
(no buts no shoulds, no buts no shoulds)
because you helped me see so clearly,
Now through you I see so clearly,
and now I see so clearly…
that which I already knew.

and it’s…

Oh, So, Good
You say you’re teaching,
but what’s practiced in here
is not what it’s preaching
Oh, So, Good
You call it clever,
but there is no denying
your insincerity’s lying
Oh, So, Good
and you’ll keep eating your lies
in your truth of choosing’s disguise.

Does anyone else have “school” inspired brilliance to share? I’m not posting regularly, myself, so I would love to make  CultConfessions/Gentle Souls Revolution an open forum.

I hope all of you are doing o.k. in the midst of this madness. My family and I were not downtown for the marathon and we live outside the city; I do know people who were either at the finish line or blocks away when the bombs went off. Thankfully, none were injured physically. I have dear friends who endured the lock down in  Boston, Watertown and Cambridge. Needless to say, if you live in Boston and surrounding areas you were affected personally. I hope all of you and your loved ones are safe and sound.

I have been thinking about veering off the the path of “school” to write about this event. Then a couple of messages made me realize that I don’t have to veer off the path of “school” to write about it. First a fellow escapee sent out this interview with cult expert, Steve Hassan of FreedomofMind.com: How Fast Can Someone Be Radicalized

The interview centers around why a seemingly well-adjusted 19-year-old would transform from honors student, successful athlete and all-around popular young man to jihadist. Hassan addresses this question through the lens of Islamist radicalism as cult. He parallels it to his personal recruitment into the Moonies at 19 when, for a while, he swallowed that cult’s ideology hook, line and sinker.

When the interviewer asked how cults recruit, Hassan responded that they overwhelmingly enlist newbies person-to-person. Typically, he said, cults employ the “love bombing” technique — the flattering tell me all about you, you’re so special and smart, the world needs you, you have a purpose and we can help you fulfill that purpose strategy. He describes a model of destructive mind control called BITE: behavior, information, thought and emotion control used to make a person dependent or obedient.

Sound familiar? When I read the details of BITE, I was astounded by “school’s” mastering of this technique. I experienced almost every aspect that Hassan details on his website.

“No one intentionally joins a destructive cult,” Hassan said. “It’s a step-by-step drawing out information from the person, isolating them if they can, sleep deprivation if possible, dietary manipulation.”

The second thing that prompted this post was an anonymous blog commenter, who reflected on the bombings writing, “I have been thinking about the influence of ‘Spiritual’ teachings that prey upon people’s natural need for understanding and connection, yet in reality actually promote isolation and fear.” The commenter went on to say that cults feed on an over-riding sense of superiority and righteousness that justifies doing whatever necessary, to whomever, in order to “make the AIM”.

“A more true understanding would lead to the insight that we are all connected and that to harm another is to harm oneself,” the commenter wrote. “I am ashamed of my participation in cult activity of scamming a Christmas tree and more…”

Part of my motivation to create this blog was to process and purge the embarrassment and shame around my cult-related behavior. Like any good addict, I did things I didn’t believe in such as scamming the free Christmas tree and participating in newbie recruitment. Thankfully, I never did anything beyond the typical absurd cult activities — I never witnessed, was the victim of, or perpetrated violence. That said, I believe any person who has been sucked into a destructive cult can look at this kid, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, and think this: there but for the grace of God go I.

Ever since I left “school” I have millions of little moments for which I am grateful. I am grateful that I’m home writing this blog, because I decided I needed to write it. The sun is lighting up my dining room. I’m not on the phone with my “sustainer”, or “AIM partner”, or “third-line-of-work” coach planning recruitment techniques. I am no longer allowing “school” to hoist its weird ideology on me and dictate my thoughts, feelings, choices, time and actions. If you are reading this post, breaking “school rules”, it’s likely that you are following your internal compass to the best of your ability and will never again allow some external force to mold you and your life into a series of cult-feeding activities.

As for the past, I can only look back and make efforts to understand why I allowed myself to be led by the nose into some ridiculous situations and try to forgive the naive woman, who felt lost and believed “school” would provide direction, and make amends when possible.

Maybe that’s all any of us can do.

Savino proudly posing with piles of cash

The law firm of Faga Savino represented Joseph Stilwell and led the court case that resulted in the blog’s removal. On April 2nd,  police arrested Jay Savino, the firm’s principal, and the Republican Party Chairman for the Bronx. The charges — bribery in the Malcolm Smith election-fixing scandal.

I’ve heard it said that, “If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.” It seems that “school’s” evolved leadership may not be butterflies as claimed. I, myself, would rather be a caterpillar than a flea.

For more information on the fleas, read the following articles:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/03/nyregion/state-senator-and-city-councilman-accused-of-trying-to-rig-mayors-race.html?ref=nyregion
http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/bronx-gop-boss-adds-list-corruption-article-1.1307310

http://newyork.newsday.com/news/new-york/joseph-savino-bronx-gop-chairman-urged-to-step-down-after-arrest-1.5003267

I am re-posting this account of the 2012 Exodus, as requested. As I recall, the Great Escape unfolded in three parts:

1) Upon reading the esoteric freedom website, 007 decides to leave, but not without informing his classmates. He goes to his last class to surreptitiously distribute flyers to some and speak directly to others.

2) Some colleagues return for one more class to spread the word and pass out flyers, put flyers on cars and confronting “teachers”. 

3) In this class, “school” interrogates its students as described below.

I welcome those of you who experienced this event to contribute to the following account:

Twelve of us left the younger class of 21 students early in January. Three others had left in the summer of 2011. The majority had been in school for less than four years. The following is an account of what happened on the night of the mass exodus, and my reasons for leaving school.

The Heretics

After the class of January 5, a Thursday, some students were given a folded flier, others were contacted by phone. Over the weekend, a teacher called all students twice, asking first if they had received a piece of paper, then a phone call. The teacher reiterated that the papers had to be destroyed, and that we were not to talk to anyone but teachers or sustainers. I had not been contacted and was beginning to feel left out.

Before class on Tuesday, January 10, X happened to walk into a coffee shop where I was reading a book, sat down at my table, gave me a folded flier and told me to read it later. It is hilarious to me now, given my issues with secrecy, to think that I whispered to X then: “You know we’re not supposed to talk to each other?” After a walk and a talk, where I learned of the many who had decided to leave school together (having concurred that OSG was a cult), I realized it wasn’t going to be the same class at all, with all the youngest and brightest gone. I had been planning to leave school for some time – this was my opportunity. X woke me up.

The Inquisition

It was quite apparent that night that a major upheaval was underway. We were greeted at the door of the classroom by teachers telling us class would be in a different format that night. There was no body work. Eleven of us, half the normal class, sat in a semi-circle in silence, with one teacher overseeing the group. Waiting, perfectly still, not knowing what was happening next. One by one, we were asked to go into the big room, where other teachers in pairs made us sit with them to have a talk.

The questions were about the pieces of paper and the phone calls – were we contacted? (read contaminated). I don’t know how the other conversations went, but I admitted that yes I had been contacted, just before class. I told the teachers that up until then I thought a disgruntled former student was at it again, as had happened in the past, someone who “had gone off the deep end” as we were told, leaving leaflets on windshields and disparaging school with “slander”. But no, I found out that this was a large group of the best, most dedicated recent students, who had done such a great job at the Christmas party that for the first time in years, teachers didn’t have to take notes. While I wasn’t part of that group, I always had issues with the secrecy rules, as they well knew, and brought up again my old questions.

One of them was about the black book. Early on I found and brought to school the books by Ouspensky and Gurdjieff (The Fourth Way, In Search of the Miraculous, The Psychology of Man’s Possible Evolution) from which the black book is retyped with the names deleted.

Teacher:
“How did you better understand the ideas once you knew what book they came from?”
Me:
“I was no longer distracted by wondering where this text came from, which had a context in place (Russia) and time (1920s). It seemed more legitimate to know the source. How are the ideas better understood by not knowing their source?”

No direct answer to that. Only that it didn’t matter.

Me:
“If they are concealed because they are but one strand among many other teachings, and that this school is not strictly about Gurdjieff and his student Ouspensky, then why not say that?”

We kept exchanging questions past each other. There were no explanations, just restatements of how things were supposed to be. I repeated that I never understood why we couldn’t talk about the ideas of the work with others outside of school. It seemed to me that something so deep and important deserved to be shared, and that if we couldn’t talk because we would leak energy or distort the ideas, then we couldn’t talk about religion either.

“This is not a religion.”
“I know, I’m making the analogy to something sacred.”
“Why didn’t you bring this up in class for discussion?”
“Because I didn’t want to break the good mood that often permeated class, be the one to sow doubt. Besides, the few times that that ‘I was given help’ about secrecy, I was told to follow the rules, that it was good for me to obey without explanation since I had too much self-will. Ergo, no explanation.”
“Class is the format to bring up questions.”
“I like this one-on-one discussion format. It’s too bad that it is caused by such dire circumstances, but it would have been good to have these asides regularly.”

More conversation, mostly on my part, prompting sighs on their part and comments that I wasn’t being very clear.

”Well, you can appreciate how that leaves us. The rules aren’t going to change. We can’t afford to have a loose cannon like you. How do you want us to respond?”

“If I were you, I would say: ‘These are the rules. Can you abide by them? If not, you should leave.’”

So they did that, and I told them I would think about it and give them my answer soon, on the school number. It was decided that there was no point for me to stay longer – there was vague talk of having a half hour class after each student had been questioned – and that I could therefore go get my coat in the classroom and leave. But that before that, I should give them the piece of paper X handed me, as they insisted on collecting them all. I told them that paper was in my car. (I had the paper with me all along, but wanted to be able to peal off the yellow sticky note with X’s phone number on it, without them seeing it. Creative insincerity.)

The Excommunication

In the classroom, I handed out a hand-written note to Y that said I was leaving school, wanted to stay in touch, and here was my contact information. Without touching it, Y blushed and looked petrified. Another student also saw the note with horror. “Oh, oh. This is not going to go down well.” I thought to myself. The tension in the air was palpable – you could cut it with a knife. I was smiling and feeling happy. With a flourish I put my coat on and walked out of the classroom. I felt like saying goodbye to everyone, thanking all for the good times and great discussions, but the faces were so gloomy, the silence so loud, the vibrations so far below zero, that I just walked out.

I learned later that while I was in the big room, one of the younger students had waited for most students to be in the classroom, courageously announced that he was leaving school, distributed papers (quickly collected by the teacher) and said goodbye.

A teacher escorted me to my car. (All students’ movements were escorted that night.) The parking lot was abuzz with frantic activity. Someone had written on car windows, and a team of older students was hard at work removing the offensive writings (which one couldn’t see in the dark of night). My car was one of those being cleaned, so I couldn’t leave right away. I opened the passenger door, rummaged through bags pretending to look for the paper, took it out of my pocket book, removed the sticky note with the phone number, plunged the paper in a bag, retrieved it, and straightened up outside the car. “There, here is the paper.”

Escorted back to the building, I am left in the little room, waiting to be told that my car is ready and that I can leave. After a few minutes, Robert enters, thundering, holding my note to Y in his hand.

“Did you write this?”
“Yes, I wanted to stay in touch with Y.”
He tears it in front of me, red with anger.
“You have violated Y’s privacy! You are not to contact students, you know that. So you are leaving school? You have read all this slander and…”
I interrupt him, my own anger rising at this theatrical display:
“I did not read any slander.”
Robert’s thunder calms down to a breeze.
“You are leaving independently, on your own?”
“Yes.”
“This event is a terrible denying force – it always happens when good … “
“You know I have always had issues with the school’s secrecy. I had a talk with the teachers just now that clarified where I stand. I can’t abide by the rules, including this one. Thank you for the truly good classes I have enjoyed over these past years.”
“You received a lot of help over that time (a standard line, not really true for me). I wish you luck in your life.”
With a very conciliatory tone now:
“If at any time you want to come back, you can ask that it be with a different framework, questioning the rules.”

These were not his exact words, but that was their meaning. I didn’t absorb this on the spot, my mind already out of there, but in retrospect, how could this even be possible? The other teacher’s words were more realistic: “The rules are not going to change.”

Exit Robert. More waiting. Enter another teacher, downcast, restrained. “Let’s go.” As I leave with him, he says with disgust: “What you did is despicable!” “What? My note to Y? I just wanted to stay in touch!” Down the stairs. No response. I’m truly hurt by his reaction. I liked this particular teacher. Will these be the last words I hear from school? (Yes)

In the parking lot, many cars standing still with their lights on, people running around. You’d thing there was a police raid. I couldn’t drive away fast enough. I stopped several blocks away, left a message on the school number confirming that I had decided to leave school. Once home, another message to Robert, and a final one to my sustainer. Done!

***

From the beginning, I was always on the fence about school: attracted to the ideas, to making aims, to the accountability of the group, but turned off by the secrecy rules, group therapy and recruiting methods.

Therapy

The group therapy I hadn’t counted on: it wasn’t part of what my recruiter had mentioned in the beginning. Sometimes the discussions were useful, meaningful, and general enough to apply to all of us. But often I felt that a student was being put on the spot and raked over coals, unnecessarily analyzed or berated about very personal issues. By teachers who are not trained in therapy, psychology (despite their claims of knowing ancient psychology), or psychiatry. Students’ advice to each other was more helpful and more affectionate. An underlying theme was that we were supposed to have difficult relationships with our parents, the key to unlocking our potential. Another theme was that professional work didn’t matter: there was no respect for work schedules or commitments. Personal relationships, marriage, even the birth of a child, were “events”, to be discounted and subordinated to the higher life of school. The moral tone that was used to talk about class attendance, being on time, and work on the Christmas party I found particularly annoying. Of course, this was only because I had too much self-will.

Secrecy
I broke the secrecy rules often, sometimes without realizing it, and was always amazed at the overblown reaction of the teachers. When I brought the Ouspensky and Gurdjieff books to school, I thought the teacher I talked to was going to have a heart attack: “Oh my God, what have you done? Stay here in the little room while I go get Robert!” I was instructed to cover the books with paper, if I must have them with me, and I did.

I talked about school with my mother, with whom I was very close, and who had taught philosophy. For reasons of her advanced age, where she lived (outside the US) and her language (not English), I didn’t think much “leakage” would come out of that. But no, that was forbidden too. Robert made me promise to not talk about school or the ideas of the work, to anyone, at anytime. And I obeyed, for a long while.

I met Y at Al Gore‘s presentation of his book Our Choice. We were in line together, waiting for him to sign our copies of his book, talking about how great it would be to bring these ideas of sustainability to school discussions. We were both grilled in class for this taboo encounter.

My questions about secrecy kept accumulating: these books are published, what is the point of concealing them? If we highly value the school’s work, as we are asked to do, why not share our positive experiences with those who are close to us? It may very well be that ancient schools had to remain secret because members’ lives were at stake as heretics, but this is definitely not the case today. These ideas are not threatening any social order or political power. If the issue is that we would distort the ideas by talking about them, then how is any knowledge gained? We discuss ideas to learn more about them, to explore and verify their applications, and gain others’ perspective. We would never talk about religion, science, philosophy, love relationships or intellectual pursuits, if we lived under the risk-of-distortion rule.

Recruiting

I thought the third line of work was extremely devious: recruiting unsuspecting people with half-truths, off-topic conversations about this and that, gaining their trust only to hand them over to the older recruiters, a vast bait and switch operation. We were never allowed to say up front: “I’m part of a school of thought. This is what it’s about. Would you like to join?” I brought several people to the presentation on Eleanor d’Aquitaine and Hildegard von Bingen. The follow-up calls they received came close to harassment. One of them asked me: “Who are these people? Why is this woman calling me all the time? Can’t she see I don’t want to respond?”

I told her that it was a school. She told the caller she didn’t want to join a school. When this came back to the teachers, they asked me to not do third line of work, as I was almost “sabotaging” the work. I was overjoyed and relieved at not having to lie. It’s a wonder they didn’t ask me to leave then.