My journey to find peace in a world where dark meets light.
My heart’s been shattered three times. The first time by a girlfriend in college. The second time was by my former therapist-turned-best friend when he accidentally overdosed on morphine the night his wife died after a long battle with breast cancer. Full story here.
And the third time, when I began to accept the truth about Indian spiritual teacher/peace ambassador Prem Rawat, someone I worked for, dedicated my life to, and loved with all my heart for over fifteen years.
The beginning — innocence and trust.
I heard about him in the summer of 1972 and received the inner Knowledge/meditation techniques he offered a few months later. After completing my English literature degree in 1973, I moved to Boston, determined to fully immerse myself in his mission to bring peace to the world.
I believed he was a Living Master, as did thousands of others across the globe. And the logic naturally follows — if Prem is in the same league as Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, and Mohammed, then I must be one of the chosen ones. No point sitting on the sidelines. Not only did I want to experience his inner Knowledge, I wanted to work for him and get to know him.
My wishes mostly came true. For over fifty years, I’ve practiced meditation almost every day, which has resulted in an experience that fills me with love, peace, and vibrancy. For that, I’m thankful Prem came to the West and introduced me and thousands of others to meditation.
I got involved in the organization supporting his work, Divine Light Mission, later to become Elan Vital. For ten years in my twenties, I played by the ashram rules. No sex. No money and total obedience.
I helped open natural food stores in Boston, Chicago, and Atlanta, became a community organizer in Houston and Philadelphia, and then in 1977, I was asked to be a meditation instructor, which was supposed to be a lifetime commitment of service to Prem. It was serious stuff, and those of us that were instructors took it that way.
A few years later, I became the President of Elan Vital (signing resignation papers in advance, so it would be easy to get rid of me when the time came). And I was the instructor assigned to Prem’s legal and financial affairs office, working closely with Michael Dettmers, Prem’s right-hand man, financial and legal advisor, fixer, and in-house pit bull.
Although I had plenty of small group and a few one-on-one meetings with Prem, I never knew him personally. He was the Master, and I was the disciple. I prayed to him before and after I meditated, carried his pictures around when I traveled, and believed “His Grace” was responsible for guiding and helping me along my life’s journey.
I wasn’t one of the X-rated followers, as they were called, who served him in his private residences. X rated because they saw what he did when he wasn’t sitting on a throne preaching to his loyal followers.
I didn’t rock the boat during my ten years in the cult. I just did what was asked of me. If there was a boy scout group there, I was in it.
However, when I read a letter written by the Vice President of Divine Light Mission in 1974 to all the devoted followers, I took exception to one line he wrote: “As we all know, Maharaj Ji is the Lord of the Universe.”
That rubbed me the wrong way. Who the hell is he to assume that we all know or believe that? So I wrote back, telling him to stop shoving that stuff down everyone’s throats. Later on, we worked together and are friends to this day.
I’m telling you all this to make the point that I put everything in my life into following Prem. I left my family behind in tears and good friends by the wayside.
They all thought I was nuts, and I didn’t care.
Prem appeared and sounded to be the real thing. All his close followers worshipped him. I believed what he said — every word. I wanted to help bring peace to this planet. Simple.
Doubts.
But, when I heard in 1976 that he was drinking excessively, something felt off. I spoke to him privately about it a year later. When I explained my concern, he didn’t deny it. The first thing he asked me was,” Who told you?”
That was what he cared about — who ratted out his private life that was supposed to be hidden from public view. Then he pulled a typical spiritual bypass out of his pocket, saying, “Maybe it was a test.”
How many people would follow a guru with a drinking problem? Not many. Bad for business.
Then, in the early 2000s, I found a website with eyewitness accounts of Prem’s private behavior— letters written by Michael Dettmers and others detailing his drinking, arranged liaisons with female followers, lewd jokes in front of children and adults, demeaning and humiliating behavior towards others, and the cover-up of child sex abuse by one of his most loyal Indian instructors.
Some of his followers might argue that all that stuff is in the past. He’s moved on and cleaned up his act. And to that, I say the passage of time doesn’t erase history. Anyone’s past stands like a statue, no matter what happens afterward. Legacy is built on the footsteps one leaves through every conversation, every act, conscious or not.
After reading the blog, I was stunned. How could Prem, who said he was permanently in God consciousness, conduct himself like this? At the time, I didn’t know how to process it fully.
“The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.” — Carl Jung
This was the man I’d been worshipping since I was twenty-one. In 2001 I was fifty years old, raising a family with a demanding corporate leadership job. My mental and emotional bandwidth was already overloaded.
I couldn’t bear the thought that my guru was a fake. The core beliefs about my life revolved around meeting and following him. If I tore those beliefs apart, I’d have to admit I’ve been fooled. I’d have to reevaluate my entire life and what I’ve done with it.
Moving on.
So, I distanced myself from involvement in his activities but kept practicing meditation.
Mentally I applied the principle that all human beings are flawed and fabulous to Prem. Sure, he’s got flaws, but he’s done a lot of good in the world too. I said to myself many times; He’s a strange man, but the techniques he teaches work.
I stopped praying to him, removed his pictures in my home, and did not attend any of his live events or listen to his online speeches.
The stages of transition.
Not realizing it then, I was going through the first two of three stages of transition described by author William Bridges in his book Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes.
Endings — coming to grips with something over — dealing with sadness, grief, shock, anger.
The neutral zone — a time when the ending isn’t fully processed. It’s the psychological place between the old and the new, often characterized by internal processing and redesign, mixed emotions, and sometimes indecision. It’s also the seedbed for new beginnings.
New beginnings — A time of new understandings, attitudes, and beliefs characterized by creativity, enthusiasm, and renewal.
I was in the neutral zone for the next 15 years.
In 2020 I wrote an article about reclaiming my life after being in a cult. This was the first time I publicly stated that I was in one — a big step forward in the untangling process.
Then, a few months ago, the daughter-in-law of Prem read the article and reached out to me. We had several long conversations about his off-camera behavior. What I heard made me sick to my stomach.
I reread all the online accounts of Prem’s private life and talked to friends and others who spent time with him. The patterns of misogyny, humiliating people for pleasure, drinking, and misuse of wealth and power all point to a man who is deeply flawed psychologically and emotionally.
I don’t have friends that behave like jerks, so why would I want to follow an alleged spiritual teacher who often acts without common decency?
Prem let me down and broke my trust and respect because he pretended to be something he wasn’t.
He had great potential to be an example of goodness in the world, but he crossed the line between light and dark and fell for power and wealth, as many other spiritual leaders have done.
Sure, he’s charismatic, talented, and intelligent. But, he promoted the idea he was a divine and enlightened being for many years. During those years, people gave him millions of dollars and their blood, sweat, and tears. And he built a multi-million dollar empire with the money given to him by people who thought he was the second coming of Christ.
The whole charade makes me angry.
New beginnings.
So in the past few months, I’ve finally left the neutral zone for new beginnings. It feels great to move on and be at peace.
I don’t see him as a flawed and fabulous teacher any longer.
I see him as a flawed human being trying to find his way into peace and wholeness.
He was a child god unable to handle the crown placed upon him. Now he’s sixty-five years old, but, unfortunately, I don’t see a man whose been practicing meditation for his entire life. If he did, he still be radiating like he did when was younger. But now the glow has dimmed significantly.
I hope he finds redemption for his poor behavior, apologizes, and makes peace with those he has offended.
Final thoughts.
No matter who breaks your heart in life, we all have to find our way through grief and recovery into the new dawn, where we can be thankful for the good things we gathered on our journey and reflect on the lessons we’ve learned.
-Don Johnson
First published on Medium.com