35 VOLUME 7 |ISSUE 1 |2016
About the Author
Eva Mackey Meyrat, MD, is a second-
generation adult whose father was a tenured
professor of philosophy at the University of
Texas at Austin. Her mother was a devotee
of an Eastern cult that practiced a branch
of Hinduism called Advaita Vedanta, a
nondualistic philosophy that teaches that the
self is one with the ultimate truth or reality. Half of Eva’s childhood
was spent in an ashram in India, where she and the other children
were unsupervised much of the day. Despite the upheavals and
instability that characterized her childhood, Eva managed to get
out of the cult at the age of 16 and eventually earned her MD
degree from the University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston.
Dr. Meyrat has a busy family practice, and she lives near Dallas with
her three small children. n
the whole truth yet. Their young minds are still too innocent. All
they need to know is that the ride wasn’t any fun for me.
So we turn away from the ride that I had waited in line for but
hadn’t ridden on. Across the walkway, we see an aquatic area
with dolphins. The show is going to start in about five minutes,
and I know this is just the thing for my kids. “Let’s try this!” I say
enthusiastically.
As predicted, my kids loved it. They were totally impressed with the
way the dolphins dived, leaped in the air, and twisted in unison. I
loved seeing their little faces light up. “Did you see that, Mommy?
Did you see the dolphin catch the ball
in his mouth?” shouts Antoine. “Oh
yes, baby. That is really amazing!”
“Did you get to see the dolphins,
Mommy?” asked Olivier. “Of course,” I
say, not understanding at first. “No, I
mean when you were a kid and you
came here. Did you see the dolphins
then?” “Oh, well no sweetie,” I respond,
“Maybe they didn’t have dolphins
back then.”
I can’t remember for sure if they had
dolphins back then. Something tells
me that they did but the grandson
wasn’t interested. If I had noticed
the dolphins at the time, I’m sure
that I quickly blocked it out lest I feel
the forbidden stirring of a desire to
see them. Better to stay oblivious
to the park and what it had to offer.
Any joy I got out of that trip to Parc Asterix was derived from the
opportunity to talk to my friends when their attention wasn’t
immediately required by our little despot.
As the rides started closing down at Parc Asterix, we made our way
to the exit. On the way out, I got ice cream for the kids. They were
so cute trying to say chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla in French.
After the ice cream, I stopped by the gift shop strategically located
by the park exit and got Gallic warrior outfits for all of them:
swords, helmets, shields, and a bottle for magic potion. By now
they all knew the story of how the tiny Gallic village resisted the
Romans with the help of the druid’s magic potion. I watched them
bang around with their swords. The park employees were dressed
as Roman centurions, and I loved watching the kids’ staged mock
fights with them.
“Mommy, did you get a Gallic warrior outfit when you were here
before? Did you get ice cream?” the kids persist. By now I would
think they should know the answer. “No, my sweet babies,” I sighed.
“I’m afraid when I was here before having fun wasn’t the main
point.” “Why not, Mommy?” asks Colette. She is confused.
“Well, I was with a large group,” I try to explain again. “But it wasn’t
exactly a mean teacher actually, it was another kid.” “Was he a
bully?” asks Antoine. He is trying to make sense of this, “I want to
kick the bully in the wiener!” he says. I can definitely relate to this
sentiment, but I feel the need to temper it a little. “No sweetie,” I
say,” That isn’t the right thing to do. If a
bully is picking on you, you should tell
your parents or a teacher.”
“So why didn’t you do that?” insists
Olivier. “Why didn’t you tell your
teacher?” “You must have had a really
mean teacher!” Colette is back to the
teacher theory.
In a way that isn’t totally off. You could
think of Guru Dev as the mean teacher
and his grandson as the bully who
inexplicably was allowed to get away
with murder. I decided to go along with
that for the time being. The kids will
learn about the evil of cults and their
leaders in the years to come, but not yet.
“Yes, babies. My mother had a really
mean teacher, and he was mean to me,
too. He let the bully do whatever he
wanted. There weren’t any grown-ups
who would listen or help. But don’t worry if a bully is mean to you,
I will always be here to help. I want to hear about it and I will do
everything that I can to help you.” If only someone had said those
words to me as a child!
“It doesn’t sound like you had much fun the first time you were
here, Mommy,” observed Olivier. He has hit the nail on the head.
Truth comes out of the mouths of babes who are honest and
innocent. “No, I didn’t have much fun,” I confess. “I’m having a lot
more fun today with you. Let’s focus on that. I’m so glad I got to
come here again with you. I love you, my sweet babies.” n
About the Author
Eva Mackey Meyrat, MD, is a second-
generation adult whose father was a tenured
professor of philosophy at the University of
Texas at Austin. Her mother was a devotee
of an Eastern cult that practiced a branch
of Hinduism called Advaita Vedanta, a
nondualistic philosophy that teaches that the
self is one with the ultimate truth or reality. Half of Eva’s childhood
was spent in an ashram in India, where she and the other children
were unsupervised much of the day. Despite the upheavals and
instability that characterized her childhood, Eva managed to get
out of the cult at the age of 16 and eventually earned her MD
degree from the University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston.
Dr. Meyrat has a busy family practice, and she lives near Dallas with
her three small children. n
the whole truth yet. Their young minds are still too innocent. All
they need to know is that the ride wasn’t any fun for me.
So we turn away from the ride that I had waited in line for but
hadn’t ridden on. Across the walkway, we see an aquatic area
with dolphins. The show is going to start in about five minutes,
and I know this is just the thing for my kids. “Let’s try this!” I say
enthusiastically.
As predicted, my kids loved it. They were totally impressed with the
way the dolphins dived, leaped in the air, and twisted in unison. I
loved seeing their little faces light up. “Did you see that, Mommy?
Did you see the dolphin catch the ball
in his mouth?” shouts Antoine. “Oh
yes, baby. That is really amazing!”
“Did you get to see the dolphins,
Mommy?” asked Olivier. “Of course,” I
say, not understanding at first. “No, I
mean when you were a kid and you
came here. Did you see the dolphins
then?” “Oh, well no sweetie,” I respond,
“Maybe they didn’t have dolphins
back then.”
I can’t remember for sure if they had
dolphins back then. Something tells
me that they did but the grandson
wasn’t interested. If I had noticed
the dolphins at the time, I’m sure
that I quickly blocked it out lest I feel
the forbidden stirring of a desire to
see them. Better to stay oblivious
to the park and what it had to offer.
Any joy I got out of that trip to Parc Asterix was derived from the
opportunity to talk to my friends when their attention wasn’t
immediately required by our little despot.
As the rides started closing down at Parc Asterix, we made our way
to the exit. On the way out, I got ice cream for the kids. They were
so cute trying to say chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla in French.
After the ice cream, I stopped by the gift shop strategically located
by the park exit and got Gallic warrior outfits for all of them:
swords, helmets, shields, and a bottle for magic potion. By now
they all knew the story of how the tiny Gallic village resisted the
Romans with the help of the druid’s magic potion. I watched them
bang around with their swords. The park employees were dressed
as Roman centurions, and I loved watching the kids’ staged mock
fights with them.
“Mommy, did you get a Gallic warrior outfit when you were here
before? Did you get ice cream?” the kids persist. By now I would
think they should know the answer. “No, my sweet babies,” I sighed.
“I’m afraid when I was here before having fun wasn’t the main
point.” “Why not, Mommy?” asks Colette. She is confused.
“Well, I was with a large group,” I try to explain again. “But it wasn’t
exactly a mean teacher actually, it was another kid.” “Was he a
bully?” asks Antoine. He is trying to make sense of this, “I want to
kick the bully in the wiener!” he says. I can definitely relate to this
sentiment, but I feel the need to temper it a little. “No sweetie,” I
say,” That isn’t the right thing to do. If a
bully is picking on you, you should tell
your parents or a teacher.”
“So why didn’t you do that?” insists
Olivier. “Why didn’t you tell your
teacher?” “You must have had a really
mean teacher!” Colette is back to the
teacher theory.
In a way that isn’t totally off. You could
think of Guru Dev as the mean teacher
and his grandson as the bully who
inexplicably was allowed to get away
with murder. I decided to go along with
that for the time being. The kids will
learn about the evil of cults and their
leaders in the years to come, but not yet.
“Yes, babies. My mother had a really
mean teacher, and he was mean to me,
too. He let the bully do whatever he
wanted. There weren’t any grown-ups
who would listen or help. But don’t worry if a bully is mean to you,
I will always be here to help. I want to hear about it and I will do
everything that I can to help you.” If only someone had said those
words to me as a child!
“It doesn’t sound like you had much fun the first time you were
here, Mommy,” observed Olivier. He has hit the nail on the head.
Truth comes out of the mouths of babes who are honest and
innocent. “No, I didn’t have much fun,” I confess. “I’m having a lot
more fun today with you. Let’s focus on that. I’m so glad I got to
come here again with you. I love you, my sweet babies.” n
