Yoga Graduation Day

Truth In The Name Of The Lord
Where Have I Heard That Before
May, '73

Sahash had made arrangements for a weekend retreat. It took place in
an absolutely beautiful spot on the north side of the island. The
gathering was held under a grove of pine trees, about a half-mile off
the highway, on private property. Sahash, his wife, Siri, and a couple
of her friends, prepared the food. By noon, all twelve of us had
arrived (Babbet dropped out of the class after the second week), and
we were under strict orders not to speak. If anybody talked it had to
be Sahash. For the most part, though, we spent the entire day in silence.

It was a warm sunny day, and everybody was excited. In fact, I
worked harder doing the exercises than I had ever done before. The
afternoon meal was, of course, vegetarian. It was the best vegetarian
meal I had ever had, perhaps my best meal ever. It came in all
varieties and colors. I just wished I could have asked what it was.
After dinner there was a scheduled rest period, and then we were back
raising the kundalini to the highest levels yet. During the "breath of
fire" I lost touch with my sense of location, time, and identity. I
did come back down, though. I didn't know it at the time, but before
the night was over, I would find myself not just down, but in freefall.

It was well after dark before Sahash let us go to bed. I was alert
(because of my spiritual condition), but I was also glad to lie down
and relax. It didn't last. We were summoned from sleep at 3 a.m..
Sahash had the campfire going as he motioned for everybody to gather
round. This was going to be his promised final lecture.

He began by telling us that a "new age" was already upon us. This "new
age" required teachers who were willing to make sacrifices. He said,
"God is benevolent, but God requires respect, discipleship, and
service." Essentially, during this talk, Sahash said things I
disagreed with and things that were just plain wrong. Afterward I
wrote down the stuff that was disturbing. (Actually, I wrote what I
could remember down, on the following day, after I had returned to
Keaau, but that’s in tomorrows post).

After Sahash had finished his lecture, he told the group to go back to
their sleeping bags and meditate until the need for sleep arose. As
everybody fell back into the darkness, I took Sahash aside and did the
unmentionable. I broke the silence. I tried to do it in whispers, but
it soon became apparent that Guru Sahash and I were having words, and
not very friendly ones at that. I asked him, "How can any truth
justify an offensive war?" I told him I couldn't live with that.
Sahash, on the other hand, was very upset that I had broken the
silence, especially in the presence of his "holiest of holy"
teachings. That was totally unacceptable. In his eyes, I had become
the infidel, the black cloud that had brought rain to his perfect day.

The life-pulse of the whole retreat was put at risk. I could feel it.
Sahash could feel it. Everybody could feel it. Sahash had to do
something fast or lose face. He ordered me out of the area. He told me
to get my stuff and leave. I was happy to oblige, even though I could
barely see. I grabbed my stuff and walked out from under the trees and
down the ridge to the beach. On the beach, I was greeted by millions
of stars. I was not required to sing their praises, but they were
noted and appreciated anyway. When I was far enough away form the
retreat to feel comfortable, I sat down and meditated until the light
from the eastern sky drowned out the starlight. It took a long time
before I could get my mind into a meditative state, but once there, I
felt more `there' then I had ever felt before.