ICSA TODAY 14
While other parents of our TM family
attended Maharishi’s twice-daily
Program (hours of meditation
marathons in gender-divided dome
buildings), Dan led a pack of
enlightened truants who baked
chocolate-chip cookies and played with
my preschoolers in a quest for normalcy.
The teens of the 1980s knew I avoided
the hours of daily Program despite the
objections of my then-husband and
community. I refused to neglect children
the way that my own enlightenment-
seeking TM parents had done.
Spiritual idealism called young-adult
Dan to visit ashrams and TM childhood
buddies the world over, including
several visits to my California home after
I left The Movement. His lifelong quest
to live God’s goodness sometimes
clashed with harsher realities. Cognitive
dissonance and psychosis bought him
repeated admissions to mental
hospitals.
Susan came to me crying on a cold
winter day in the mid-1980s. Dan was a
young adult. She sat in my kitchen and
told me that Dan had called her collect
from a roadside telephone booth. He
stood in the phone booth wearing thin
yoga clothes in the middle of winter. His
bare feet were bleeding because he had
bolted and run 2 miles away from
Maharishi’s men’s celibate retreat center
in upstate New York. He was desperate
for help to cope with disturbing visions
after months of prolonged daily
meditations. From my home, Susan
called for medical help to rescue her
son, 1,000 miles away.
Dan had sought help from TM’s
leadership. Trained leaders responded
with “Something good is happening.”
This is just “stress release” or “bad
karma.” They encouraged him to
meditate more, to turn within for even
more “experiences of higher states of
consciousness.” Unfortunately, TM
teachers neither screen for meditation-
induced psychosis nor acknowledge a
devotee’s cognitive dissonance. While I
dried Susan’s tears, a psychiatric hospital
phoned to confirm Dan’s arrival.
In the 1980s Fairfield’s meditating
community exalted Susan because she
generously donated to Maharishi’s
never-to-be-actualized programs. She
funded many meditator businesses. Like
others, Susan believed Maharishi’s
promises that nature’s support (mystical
blessings) would repay her family with
perfect health, prosperity, and
enlightenment. She depleted family
trust funds to enrich the coffers of
Maharishi’s Shrivastava family.
Dan’s adorable younger sister, Lara, died
suddenly in 1997, at the beginning of
her senior year in Maharishi’s high
school. During weekly long-distance
telephone conversations, Susan relayed
her relief that, as a passenger, Lara died
painlessly with a smile on her face when
her neck snapped in a drug-related auto
accident. Despite such drug-related
tragedies among TM’s youth, a school
official refused to honor concerned
parents’ requests for drug-education
programs, apparently clinging to the
myth that there are not drugs at the
Maharishi School.
Fast forward only a few years. Dan
stabilized in Fairfield on disability funds
because his psychotic bouts prevented
him from holding a job. One evening
Dan found his mother wandering
aimlessly among the aisles of
EveryBody’s Whole Foods, Fairfield’s
meditator-owned natural food store and
social hub. Susan was in a stupor and
did not recognize her son. Dan brought
his mother to Fairfield’s Jefferson County
Hospital. A medical team airlifted her 60
miles north to the University hospital
(now part of University of Iowa Hospitals
and Clinics). Studies found that advanced
brain cancer squished her brain to half
its normal size inside her skull.
Susan’s undiagnosed brain cancer had
grown unchecked for years while she
treated recurrent debilitating headaches
according to directives from Maharishi’s
Ayurvedic doctors, jyotishis (astrologers),
yagyas (prayer ceremonies) to purify her
karma, mystically prescribed gem
stones, and more. Susan followed the
guidance of her guru and her
community. She did everything “right.”
Through all, Dan and his mother
continued a cheerful, abiding love for
their family and community. The
community at large, however, ignored
Susan after she depleted her wealth and
became impoverished. Her closest
friends and children helped as best they
could, while government assistance
funded treatment for brain cancer.
Maharishi’s promises of perfect health
and prosperity were for naught.
With my next visit in June 2000, Susan’s
lovely auburn hair flowed only down her
left shoulder from beneath a red silk
scarf. In a dear friend’s dining room, I
removed Susan’s headscarf. A pink
caterpillar scar curved along the
luminous bald right side of her scalp. I
kissed the length of the scar. Tears
trickled down Susan and Dan’s cheeks.
University of Iowa Medical Center’s
treatments were too late. In spring 2001,
Susan, surrounded by Dan and his other
sisters, repeated her mystical mantra
and joined her deceased daughter Lara.
In 2006, Dan encouraged me to tell
stories of TM damage publicly at a
conference for the International Cultic
Studies Association. He repeatedly asked
when I would publish his family story,
ensconced within my own memoir. Dan
encouraged me that autumn when I
protested the David Lynch Foundation’s
attempt to bring TM to my own
children’s public high school in San
Rafael, California.
After several hell rides, his term for
psychotic bouts, Dan spent his last few
years calmly settled with his father. Dan
painted, composed music, and managed
a few websites. He especially reveled as
a doting uncle.
One afternoon in 2012, Dan’s father
found Dan passed away in his sleep.
Sweet Susan’s son joined his mother and
Dan visits a Maharishi clinic in India.
While other parents of our TM family
attended Maharishi’s twice-daily
Program (hours of meditation
marathons in gender-divided dome
buildings), Dan led a pack of
enlightened truants who baked
chocolate-chip cookies and played with
my preschoolers in a quest for normalcy.
The teens of the 1980s knew I avoided
the hours of daily Program despite the
objections of my then-husband and
community. I refused to neglect children
the way that my own enlightenment-
seeking TM parents had done.
Spiritual idealism called young-adult
Dan to visit ashrams and TM childhood
buddies the world over, including
several visits to my California home after
I left The Movement. His lifelong quest
to live God’s goodness sometimes
clashed with harsher realities. Cognitive
dissonance and psychosis bought him
repeated admissions to mental
hospitals.
Susan came to me crying on a cold
winter day in the mid-1980s. Dan was a
young adult. She sat in my kitchen and
told me that Dan had called her collect
from a roadside telephone booth. He
stood in the phone booth wearing thin
yoga clothes in the middle of winter. His
bare feet were bleeding because he had
bolted and run 2 miles away from
Maharishi’s men’s celibate retreat center
in upstate New York. He was desperate
for help to cope with disturbing visions
after months of prolonged daily
meditations. From my home, Susan
called for medical help to rescue her
son, 1,000 miles away.
Dan had sought help from TM’s
leadership. Trained leaders responded
with “Something good is happening.”
This is just “stress release” or “bad
karma.” They encouraged him to
meditate more, to turn within for even
more “experiences of higher states of
consciousness.” Unfortunately, TM
teachers neither screen for meditation-
induced psychosis nor acknowledge a
devotee’s cognitive dissonance. While I
dried Susan’s tears, a psychiatric hospital
phoned to confirm Dan’s arrival.
In the 1980s Fairfield’s meditating
community exalted Susan because she
generously donated to Maharishi’s
never-to-be-actualized programs. She
funded many meditator businesses. Like
others, Susan believed Maharishi’s
promises that nature’s support (mystical
blessings) would repay her family with
perfect health, prosperity, and
enlightenment. She depleted family
trust funds to enrich the coffers of
Maharishi’s Shrivastava family.
Dan’s adorable younger sister, Lara, died
suddenly in 1997, at the beginning of
her senior year in Maharishi’s high
school. During weekly long-distance
telephone conversations, Susan relayed
her relief that, as a passenger, Lara died
painlessly with a smile on her face when
her neck snapped in a drug-related auto
accident. Despite such drug-related
tragedies among TM’s youth, a school
official refused to honor concerned
parents’ requests for drug-education
programs, apparently clinging to the
myth that there are not drugs at the
Maharishi School.
Fast forward only a few years. Dan
stabilized in Fairfield on disability funds
because his psychotic bouts prevented
him from holding a job. One evening
Dan found his mother wandering
aimlessly among the aisles of
EveryBody’s Whole Foods, Fairfield’s
meditator-owned natural food store and
social hub. Susan was in a stupor and
did not recognize her son. Dan brought
his mother to Fairfield’s Jefferson County
Hospital. A medical team airlifted her 60
miles north to the University hospital
(now part of University of Iowa Hospitals
and Clinics). Studies found that advanced
brain cancer squished her brain to half
its normal size inside her skull.
Susan’s undiagnosed brain cancer had
grown unchecked for years while she
treated recurrent debilitating headaches
according to directives from Maharishi’s
Ayurvedic doctors, jyotishis (astrologers),
yagyas (prayer ceremonies) to purify her
karma, mystically prescribed gem
stones, and more. Susan followed the
guidance of her guru and her
community. She did everything “right.”
Through all, Dan and his mother
continued a cheerful, abiding love for
their family and community. The
community at large, however, ignored
Susan after she depleted her wealth and
became impoverished. Her closest
friends and children helped as best they
could, while government assistance
funded treatment for brain cancer.
Maharishi’s promises of perfect health
and prosperity were for naught.
With my next visit in June 2000, Susan’s
lovely auburn hair flowed only down her
left shoulder from beneath a red silk
scarf. In a dear friend’s dining room, I
removed Susan’s headscarf. A pink
caterpillar scar curved along the
luminous bald right side of her scalp. I
kissed the length of the scar. Tears
trickled down Susan and Dan’s cheeks.
University of Iowa Medical Center’s
treatments were too late. In spring 2001,
Susan, surrounded by Dan and his other
sisters, repeated her mystical mantra
and joined her deceased daughter Lara.
In 2006, Dan encouraged me to tell
stories of TM damage publicly at a
conference for the International Cultic
Studies Association. He repeatedly asked
when I would publish his family story,
ensconced within my own memoir. Dan
encouraged me that autumn when I
protested the David Lynch Foundation’s
attempt to bring TM to my own
children’s public high school in San
Rafael, California.
After several hell rides, his term for
psychotic bouts, Dan spent his last few
years calmly settled with his father. Dan
painted, composed music, and managed
a few websites. He especially reveled as
a doting uncle.
One afternoon in 2012, Dan’s father
found Dan passed away in his sleep.
Sweet Susan’s son joined his mother and
Dan visits a Maharishi clinic in India.
