Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 69
We could use these experiences in adapting to the life of the character we portrayed
through becoming more comfortable with and trusting of our instincts, imagination,
intuition, and thought on stage.
We were caught up in the excitement and wonder of possibilities, given permission to
explore, to question, to acknowledge and accept our sensuality and sexuality, to take time
in the process of discovery… to discuss the writer‘s intent and logical progression of his
work. My inner experience was never invalidated. This was a drastic departure from what I
had become accustomed to in Eckankar, where I had been programmed to think, feel, and
act like others who had ―found their way.‖ Our leader stressed that if we dissented or,
worse, left ―the path,‖ something disastrous would occur. This became internalized as a
pathogenic belief.
Not long after I began studying at the Loft. I was the recipient of the kind of ―break‖ that
every actor dreams about. Jennifer Schull invited me to audition for a small part in a major
film, California Suite, written by Neil Simon, produced by Ray Stark, and directed by Herb
Ross. Maggie Smith, Michael Caine, and Walter Matthau were among the lead actors. When
Ross saw me in the waiting room, he said excitedly that I looked exactly like a more
prominent character, a prostitute, who would be playing some important scenes with
Matthau. He invited me to audition in front of him, and, of course, I agreed.
At the audition in Ross‘s office, I froze, a painful but classic example of compliance to
pathogenic beliefs, and the crescendo of unconscious danger that occurs when one pushes
the envelope beyond one‘s current capacity. I find that with pathogenic beliefs, there is
always a dynamic equilibrium spectrum between extreme compliance on one end, and
active working to disconfirm on the other. I was mortified to find that I was blocking myself
from the acting I knew I was capable of. Afterward, Jennifer asked me how it went, and I
gave her the bad news. She empathized with me, saying that people are often intimidated
by Herb, and, with his consent, another audition was scheduled. Again, I froze, and the
opportunity was forever lost. Eventually I was given a smaller part. Extremely discouraged,
I didn‘t give up, knowing that the course upon which I had embarked was critical to my
survival.
Playing the prostitute convincingly, with body language, habits, world view, and so on defied
the edicts that had been drilled into my psyche as an Eckankar ―higher initiate.‖ As I review
the literature, I find it‘s still somewhat difficult to acknowledge how I and others in the
organization, many of whom had advanced college degrees, were so manipulated through
the process of thought reform. As an example of the many efforts to keep members under
his control, Twitchell (1970) wrote:
Since the Mahanta is the Master of the secret teachings, truth learned from
any other source is of little or no value... Only the living ECK Master is
capable enough to give truth as it is to the chela. Unless he is under the ECK
Master then his gathering of truth has little value. He is unable to establish
any link with the Godhead and, more importantly, is unable to find a way to
discover truth for himself. The Master is the link between the chela and the
Godhead, for he is the living Word Itself.
(p. 126)
In acting, through scene and sensory work and character study, I actively challenged these
pathogenic beliefs (consciously and unconsciously) and began to disconfirm them in a highly
personalized and integrative creative process. This included using body, mind, and soul
connecting to past sense memories and current emotions and tolerating ambiguity.
Training at the Loft supported my unconscious plan to disconfirm pathogenic beliefs, reclaim
myself, heal from trauma, and develop through a process of integration that included:
We could use these experiences in adapting to the life of the character we portrayed
through becoming more comfortable with and trusting of our instincts, imagination,
intuition, and thought on stage.
We were caught up in the excitement and wonder of possibilities, given permission to
explore, to question, to acknowledge and accept our sensuality and sexuality, to take time
in the process of discovery… to discuss the writer‘s intent and logical progression of his
work. My inner experience was never invalidated. This was a drastic departure from what I
had become accustomed to in Eckankar, where I had been programmed to think, feel, and
act like others who had ―found their way.‖ Our leader stressed that if we dissented or,
worse, left ―the path,‖ something disastrous would occur. This became internalized as a
pathogenic belief.
Not long after I began studying at the Loft. I was the recipient of the kind of ―break‖ that
every actor dreams about. Jennifer Schull invited me to audition for a small part in a major
film, California Suite, written by Neil Simon, produced by Ray Stark, and directed by Herb
Ross. Maggie Smith, Michael Caine, and Walter Matthau were among the lead actors. When
Ross saw me in the waiting room, he said excitedly that I looked exactly like a more
prominent character, a prostitute, who would be playing some important scenes with
Matthau. He invited me to audition in front of him, and, of course, I agreed.
At the audition in Ross‘s office, I froze, a painful but classic example of compliance to
pathogenic beliefs, and the crescendo of unconscious danger that occurs when one pushes
the envelope beyond one‘s current capacity. I find that with pathogenic beliefs, there is
always a dynamic equilibrium spectrum between extreme compliance on one end, and
active working to disconfirm on the other. I was mortified to find that I was blocking myself
from the acting I knew I was capable of. Afterward, Jennifer asked me how it went, and I
gave her the bad news. She empathized with me, saying that people are often intimidated
by Herb, and, with his consent, another audition was scheduled. Again, I froze, and the
opportunity was forever lost. Eventually I was given a smaller part. Extremely discouraged,
I didn‘t give up, knowing that the course upon which I had embarked was critical to my
survival.
Playing the prostitute convincingly, with body language, habits, world view, and so on defied
the edicts that had been drilled into my psyche as an Eckankar ―higher initiate.‖ As I review
the literature, I find it‘s still somewhat difficult to acknowledge how I and others in the
organization, many of whom had advanced college degrees, were so manipulated through
the process of thought reform. As an example of the many efforts to keep members under
his control, Twitchell (1970) wrote:
Since the Mahanta is the Master of the secret teachings, truth learned from
any other source is of little or no value... Only the living ECK Master is
capable enough to give truth as it is to the chela. Unless he is under the ECK
Master then his gathering of truth has little value. He is unable to establish
any link with the Godhead and, more importantly, is unable to find a way to
discover truth for himself. The Master is the link between the chela and the
Godhead, for he is the living Word Itself.
(p. 126)
In acting, through scene and sensory work and character study, I actively challenged these
pathogenic beliefs (consciously and unconsciously) and began to disconfirm them in a highly
personalized and integrative creative process. This included using body, mind, and soul
connecting to past sense memories and current emotions and tolerating ambiguity.
Training at the Loft supported my unconscious plan to disconfirm pathogenic beliefs, reclaim
myself, heal from trauma, and develop through a process of integration that included:
